Friends.
Sudō Ken quietly chewed over the word in his heart.
Yes. Kanji was his friend.
The only friend he had made at this high school, after once being isolated in middle school.
"..." Letting out a quiet sigh, Sudō said, "I'm not possessed by anything weird. My brain isn't broken either."
"How should I put it… I guess I've just started to see myself clearly."
It was ridiculous.
Whether it was life, or the basketball he took pride in.
He used to think that basketball was the only thing he could accept, the only thing he could be proud of.
But the harder he worked, the more clearly he realized the unmistakable boundary between humans and monsters.
…Actually, he shouldn't have given up so early.
No matter what, if he hadn't tried it himself—challenged those people, seen with his own eyes what 'real basketball' was like—he probably wouldn't have accepted it.
The videos of the Generation of Miracles were terrifying.
So terrifying that everyone doubted their authenticity, doubted whether what they had been playing all these years was really basketball.
But those were just recordings.
Since the seniors in the basketball club were still working hard.
Since they firmly believed they could do it.
Then Sudō felt that he should be able to do it too.
After once falling into despair, he regained his fighting spirit and decided to find, through intense training, the reason why those people could perform such inhuman feats.
Then, one day, during extra practice…
By accident, forgotten by the seniors, he heard the truth.
"You guys can do it! You're the future of basketball!"
"Pfft—hahaha, did you see those freshmen's faces? They really think they can beat those monsters."
"Seriously, if it weren't for getting funding from the school to keep the club running, I wouldn't bother playing house with them."
"Just muddle through until graduation, then get the school to recommend us to some local place as basketball coaches. What's the point of working so hard?"
"Don't say that. If the freshmen weren't training so hard, what would we use to deal with the school? Just shout some slogans, set some impossible-sounding goals, and we can get funding. Where else would you find something so easy?"
"Besides, they'll only work hard for a year. Once they go to real competitions and see the scene, their confidence will be crushed and they'll become like us."
"Heh heh, passion and youth! Struggle! Hahaha…"
The seniors' voices faded into the distance.
Sudō, meanwhile, hid in the restroom, pressing against the wall, cold sweat pouring down.
His heart pounded violently.
It was summer, yet he felt freezing to the bone.
Just to deal with the school?
Playing house?
Just for funding?
…Then what had he been training so hard for?
Sudō suddenly woke up.
Like from a nightmare, he sat up, drenched in sweat.
What if…
What if the basketball path didn't work out…
For the first time, he seriously thought about this question.
Looking at the passing line marked by Chabashira Sae.
Looking at the glaring "0" on the blackboard.
Looking at the match recording on his personal terminal that he had replayed countless times without understanding.
Sudō began to panic.
Huh?
Why did things suddenly turn out like this?
If I really get expelled…
What should I do?
It was only first year.
His high school life had just begun.
Yet he was already anxious.
The first half of his life had been spent in the mud.
If the second half had to be spent in the mud too, relying on that disgusting father of his—
He'd rather study.
"Study. Just study. It never hurts," Sudō sighed quietly, patting Ike Kanji on the shoulder.
It was his sincere advice to his friend.
Ike Kanji: "???"
Sudō had gone crazy.
No, no, he couldn't give in yet.
Gritting his teeth, holding Sudō's book, Ike tiptoed up again and tried to move toward Yamauchi Haruki.
Haruki would understand!
Studying was something you could pass by cramming at the last minute!
He looked over with hopeful eyes—
And saw a pair of eyes.
"..."
Hirata Yōsuke was staring at him.
"Eek—" Ike shuddered and quickly shrank back.
But if shrinking your head worked, ostrich culture would've taken over the world.
"Keep doing your problems," Hirata said gently, patting Yamauchi's shoulder.
With a warm smile, he walked over to Ike.
Bending down, he whispered, "Ike, it's about time you studied too."
"Y-Yes…"
...
"Eh…" A trace of surprise appeared in Asakusa Tetsu's eyes.
He had been watching from the start.
He thought Class D's deadweight had come to disturb everyone.
But aside from Ike's initial shouting, they were unexpectedly quiet.
Sudō, the most impatient one, was studying.
Yamauchi, the least human-like one, was firmly suppressed by Hirata.
Even Ike, the noisiest one, hadn't escaped Hirata's grasp.
Are you really Hirata Yōsuke?
In his memory, Hirata was supposed to be the type who smoothed things over, insisting everyone get along, that no one should be left behind—a super nice guy.
This wasn't good.
Now he couldn't even be called Discount Hayama anymore.
Originally, at this point, Horikita and Kushida should've stepped up to lead these deadweights to passing.
But after his diary had spoiled everything, Horikita and Kushida stuck together instead.
And Hirata became the "mom."
Unexpected.
However…
If he remembered correctly, Class D's homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae, was going to pull something during midterms.
When they realized they'd been studying the wrong scope…
How much more resentment would they have toward her?
Click click click.
Should he write in his diary and remind little sister about it?
"(Poke)"
Just as Asakusa was thinking, the girl behind him quietly poked him and handed over a piece of paper.
On the paper, in neat handwriting, were these words:
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