Time seemed to freeze at that very moment.
Murasame didn't even have time to scream—his eyes rolled back.
His entire body stiffened like a wooden post as he fell straight backward.
"Thud!"
He hit the floor hard, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth—completely unconscious.
The basketball, after smashing into his head, bounced high into the air and flew out of bounds.
Dead silence filled the arena.
Everyone's mouths hung open, their eyes nearly popping out.
Even the referee froze—his whistle dropping from his lips.
Sakuragi Hanamichi landed, still holding his post-dunk pose with full swagger.
"D-Did it… go in?"
He looked up excitedly.
Only to find the rim completely untouched.
And at his feet… lay a "corpse."
"TWEEEET!!!"
The delayed whistle finally shrieked through the air.
"Shohoku Number 10! Foul!!"
"Five fouls! You're out of the game!!"
The referee rushed over, making that cruel signal toward Sakuragi.
Sakuragi froze solid.
"F-Foul?"
"Out…?"
"My dunk…"
At that moment.
At the entrance of the gym, someone who had just arrived witnessed the shocking scene.
Kiyota Nobunaga stood there, stunned for a full three seconds.
Then—
"Pfft… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
He clutched his stomach, laughing so hard tears streamed down his face, rolling on the ground.
"Who the hell was that?! Hahaha!"
"Is that Shohoku's secret weapon?!"
"Using a basketball to dunk someone's head?! Is that some new strategy?! Hahahaha!"
"That's hilarious! He's a complete clown!"
"I'm dying here!!"
Kiyota's unrestrained laughter echoed sharply through the silent gym.
Sakuragi slowly turned his stiff neck toward the long-haired "wild monkey" rolling on the ground in laughter.
His fists… clenched.
On the bench.
Hearing the commotion, Makino Juro lifted the towel from his face and glanced at the farce unfolding on court.
Then he looked at Kiyota, who was laughing like he might pass out.
"Ah… the wild monkey's here."
Makino Juro shook his head helplessly and pulled the towel back over his face.
"So noisy."
"But…"
"The game's over."
The clock on the electronic scoreboard hit zero.
Shohoku vs. Miuradai.
Final score:
135 : 50
A massacre.
A farce.
And the opening curtain… of a new era.
Unfolding slowly amid absurdity and shock.
…
As Miuradai's unfortunate captain was carried off the court after being "knocked out by a basketball,"
Shohoku High's debut came to an end in a way that was both absurd… and unforgettable.
Final score: 135 to 50.
That number hit the Kanagawa basketball scene like a depth charge.
But this… was only the beginning.
In the following preliminary matches—
Shohoku bulldozed through their opponents like a machine in overdrive.
Kakuno High—crushed by a huge margin.
Tsukubu High—broken by halftime.
Makino Juro barely even broke a sweat.
With Rukawa Kaede and Akagi Takenori forming a dominant inside-outside duo,
plus the coordination of Mitsui Hisashi and Miyagi Ryota,
they were more than enough to dismantle these weaker teams.
However
Behind this unstoppable winning streak,
one person was sinking into deep despair.
"TWEEEET!"
"Red Number 10! Pushing foul!"
"Five fouls! You're out!"
That damned whistle.
like a curse—
rang out in every single game.
First match against Miuradai: fouled out in under ten minutes.
Second match against Kakuno: lasted twelve minutes before fouling out.
Third match…
Sakuragi Hanamichi had become like a programmed "foul machine."
No matter how hard he tried
No matter how careful he was
The referees seemed to have their eyes locked onto him.
Even the slightest contact would trigger the whistle.
"King of Ejections."
"Foul King."
These nicknames began spreading through the stands.
…
Time flew by.
In the blink of an eye, Shohoku reached the final hurdle before the championship round.
Their opponent:
Last year's second seed.
A traditional powerhouse—
Shoyo High.
A team where every player stood over 190 cm tall.
A true wall standing between Shohoku and the national tournament.
The Night Before the Game
The night was ink-dark, streetlights stretching long shadows across the road.
Sakuragi walked home alone, lazily dribbling his basketball.
"Thump… thump…"
The dull sound echoed—matching his mood.
"Damn it…"
He stopped, staring at his reflection in a shop window.
The red-haired boy frowned deeply.
For the first time—
A trace of something called self-doubt appeared in his eyes.
"Could it be… that this genius…"
"…is really just a complete amateur who only knows how to foul?"
Images flashed through his mind—
Rukawa dominating the court.
Haruko cheering for Rukawa from the sidelines.
And Makino Juro—that lazy bastard—
who barely moved, yet casually drained deep threes, admired by everyone.
And him?
Every time.
He left the court to the sound of laughter.
"What kind of joke is this?!"
Sakuragi slammed the ball hard into the ground. It bounced high into the night sky.
"I refuse to end like this!"
"Tomorrow is the Shoyo match… If I foul out again…"
A sense of crisis, stronger than ever before, wrapped around him.
Sakuragi suddenly lifted his head, his eyes turning fierce once more.
"No… I need help!"
"Ask Makino Juro?"
"…No, that guy's probably out night training again. He's been working like crazy lately."
"Ask Rukawa? No way!"
A certain cold face flashed through his mind.
"Got it! The gorilla!"
Akagi Residence
Akagi Takenori sat at the dining table, enjoying a rare moment of peace.
A hearty meal was laid out—grilled fish, miso soup, and a large bowl of rice.
Tomorrow was the crucial match against Shoyo.
As captain, he needed to maintain his strength.
"Shoyo…"
Akagi picked up a piece of fish, his expression serious.
Fujima Kenji—the player-coach and ace point guard.
And Hanagata Toru, the flexible, skilled center.
This wouldn't be an easy match.
"BANG BANG BANG!!!"
A sudden, violent knock on the door nearly made him drop his chopsticks.
"Who is it at this hour?"
Frowning, Akagi set down his utensils and walked to the door.
The moment he opened it—
A massive face shoved right up close.
"GORILLA!!"
"PFF!"
Akagi nearly spat blood.
Standing at the door was Sakuragi Hanamichi, gripping the doorframe with both hands, wearing a deeply troubled expression.
His red hair looked especially wild under the night sky.
"Sakuragi? What the hell are you doing?"
A vein popped on Akagi's forehead.
"If you're here to borrow money, forget it."
"It's not about money!"
"Gorilla, I've got something extremely urgent to ask you!"
Akagi sighed and closed the door, staring at this headache-inducing delinquent.
"Alright. What is it?"
"If it's about Haruko, get out."
"It's not Haruko!"
Sakuragi spun around, his face flushed red.
After holding it in for a long moment, he finally shouted:
"Teach me!!"
"Teach me how to stop fouling out!!!"