Anzai Jitsurei gestured toward Kawata, who was sitting in the last row against the wall.
"Kawata, turn off the lights."
Kawata immediately stood up and flipped the switch.
The small video room plunged into darkness, leaving only the television's glow illuminating the space.
Through the faint light, the silhouettes of the Youth Team players could be seen sitting quietly in front of the screen.
This scene made Nango think that if they were about to watch a horror movie instead of a basketball game, the atmosphere would be perfect.
What year was The Ring released again?
Anzai Jitsurei pressed the play button, and the paused footage began to move.
"This is Game Three of this year's NBA Finals," Anzai said.
"The Chicago Bulls versus the Phoenix Suns."
He paused briefly before continuing,
"In the first two games, the Suns, despite having home-court advantage, lost both games. You could say they were already on the brink of elimination. So in this match, they showed incredible resilience."
Anzai chose this game for two reasons.
First, it was a classic—exciting, intense, and filled with high-level basketball that allowed the players to witness the beauty of the sport at its peak.
Second, it was the perfect motivational tool.
The two teams battled fiercely, pushing the game into three overtimes.
It wasn't just a contest of skill—it was a contest of will.
No matter who they supported, anyone watching could feel the burning fighting spirit on the court.
After pressing play, Anzai fell silent and watched along with the players.
Even though he had already seen this game many times, he still enjoyed it every time.
Everyone watched intently.
Everyone—except Sakuragi.
He didn't quite understand why everyone was so focused on a game played by foreigners, or why they looked as serious as if they were watching a famous drama or movie star.
But with nothing better to do, he kept watching.
Gradually, Sakuragi noticed something interesting.
The team in purple jerseys kept targeting the player wearing number 23 in red.
Meanwhile, the team in red kept targeting number 34 in purple.
"Hey… those two guys," Sakuragi whispered, covering his mouth,
"Numbers 23 and 34 are the aces, right?"
Nango replied softly, "Yeah. Number 23 is Michael Jordan from the Chicago Bulls. Number 34 is Charles Barkley from the Suns."
If Sakuragi were still destined to play power forward, Nango might have added that Barkley was someone worth studying.
But plans had already changed.
At that moment, another thought crossed Nango's mind.
Kawata's playing style… was actually very similar to Barkley's.
Even their physiques weren't that far apart.
Sakuragi's gaze gradually became locked onto Jordan.
Jordan's presence on the court was simply too dazzling.
No matter how tightly he was guarded, he always found a way to attack.
His movements looked relaxed and effortless.
He shook defenders with ease, rose into the air smoothly, and released the ball with a beautiful shooting form.
Even when surrounded, he remained calm, using unbelievable methods to score.
Sakuragi's mouth slowly fell open.
He swallowed hard and exclaimed,
"Jordan is amazing!"
Nango chuckled.
"Of course. The shoes you're wearing are Air Jordans—the ones he endorses."
"Really?!"
Sakuragi looked down at his shoes, eyes shining.
"These shoes are awesome! And they were cheap too! The shop owner only charged me 100 yen!"
"…."
Nango didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Rukawa Kaede shook his head.
"What an idiot."
On the screen, Jordan continued to shine.
But despite his brilliance, neither team could pull away.
The game remained tight all the way through three overtimes.
When it finally ended with the Bulls losing, Sakuragi sighed.
"What a shame. Even with Jordan playing like that, they still lost."
Nango smiled faintly.
Some things were better left unsaid.
In this era, the NBA was still a business league—but things were handled subtly.
The Bulls had already won two road games.
This was Game Three.
A triple-overtime Finals game.
The Suns had 31 free throws.
The Bulls had only 9—their lowest in the entire series.
The outcome was hardly accidental.
Nango patted Sakuragi's shoulder.
"Don't worry. Even though they lost this game, the Bulls will still win the championship this year. It'll be their third straight title."
Sakuragi blinked.
"So… what exactly is the NBA?"
"The NBA stands for National Basketball Association," Nango explained.
"It's the hall of fame for basketball players. The highest level of basketball in the world. If you can play in the NBA, you're already standing at the top of the sport."
Sakuragi hesitated.
"There are so many foreigners… what about us Japanese?"
"As long as you're good enough," Nango said,
"you can play there too."
He didn't add the rest:
That the road would be extremely hard.
That discrimination, culture, and opportunity would all be obstacles.
Seeing Sakuragi still indifferent, Nango added,
"Also, even if you just sit on the bench in the NBA, you can still earn hundreds of thousands of dollars a year."
Sakuragi's eyes instantly lit up.
He clenched his fists.
"Then I'm definitely going to the NBA!"
Rukawa Kaede snorted.
"At your level? Impossible."
"What did you say?!"
Sakuragi immediately exploded.
Nango quickly grabbed him.
"Alright, alright. Let's all aim high together!"
After the video ended, Anzai Jitsurei announced a day off.
Before dismissing everyone, he warned,
"Rest properly today. No extra training is allowed. Tomorrow's workload will be heavy. Don't show up half-dead."
With those words, no one dared disobey.
They obediently returned to their dorms.
But when they checked the time—
Not even five o'clock yet.
Feeling bored, Mitsui suggested,
"Let's go take a walk."
Akagi, lying on the bed, replied flatly,
"Walk where?"
Mitsui was instantly stuck.
They had been here two days already.
There was nothing around.
Their daily routine consisted of training, eating, and sleeping.
"I'll make a phone call," Nango said, standing up.
"I'll be back in a bit."
After he left, Mitsui flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
"Seriously… minors dating this early… how outrageous."