The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Akagi Takenori looked at the anxiety and frustration written all over Sakuragi Hanamichi's eyes—and froze.
He had originally thought this idiot had come to mess around again.
But now…
"You're serious?" Akagi asked in a low voice.
"Of course I'm serious! I'm a genius, remember?!"
"Tomorrow is Shoyo!"
"If I get thrown out again in less than twenty minutes like before…"
"I—I won't accept that!"
Sakuragi clenched his fists, his face filled with unwillingness.
Akagi stared at him, a faint trace of approval flashing in his eyes.
This self-proclaimed genius… was finally starting to face his own shortcomings?
"Hmph."
Akagi snorted, turned around, and grabbed his jacket from the hanger.
"Come with me."
"Where?" Sakuragi blinked.
"Where else? The gym."
"How am I supposed to teach you defense here? Use the dinner table as a basket?"
…
Meanwhile…
On the street outside Shohoku High School.
A low engine rumble broke the quiet of the early morning.
A heavy Harley motorcycle stopped by the roadside.
Tetsuo sat astride it, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.
His gaze landed on a figure not far away—
A boy walking toward school with a sports bag slung over his shoulder.
Short hair.
Neat uniform.
Straight posture.
Gone was the gloom and delinquency he once carried.
"Hey… Mitsui."
Tetsuo called out.
Mitsui Hisashi stopped and turned around.
Seeing who it was, his eyes flickered slightly—then softened into a relieved smile.
"Tetsuo, huh…"
They stood there, a few meters apart, looking at each other.
Once, they had been partners in street fights, ruling the streets together.
Now—
They stood at the crossroads of two different worlds.
Tetsuo sized Mitsui up, then started the engine.
The roar of the motorcycle filled the air.
"That hairstyle…"
He put on his helmet, his voice coming out muffled and rough.
"It suits you."
"See you around… athlete."
Without another word, he twisted the throttle.
The Harley roared like a black beast, speeding into the distance and vanishing into the morning mist.
Mitsui remained where he was, watching the direction Tetsuo had disappeared.
For a long time, he didn't move.
Finally—
He took a deep breath, letting the cool morning air fill his lungs.
"See you, Tetsuo."
Then he turned and strode toward the gates of Shohoku High.
That was where his teammates were.
Where his basketball was.
And where the glory he had once lost—
He would reclaim, no matter what.
"Shoyo…"
A blazing fire ignited in Mitsui's eyes.
"Just wait. I'll take back everything I lost over these three years."
Shohoku High Gymnasium
Late at night.
The campus was silent, save for the faint chirping of cicadas.
Akagi and Sakuragi arrived at the gym entrance. Just as Akagi reached for his keys—
Both of them froze.
"Thump! Swish!"
"Thump! Swish!"
The crisp sound of dribbling and net snapping echoed from inside the locked gym.
At this hour, in an empty school—
It sounded especially clear.
"G-Ghost…?" Sakuragi gulped, hiding behind Akagi.
"Shut up, idiot."
Frowning, Akagi pushed the door open.
The lighting inside was dim—only a row of overhead lights was on.
But on that court, where light and shadow intertwined—
A figure was moving relentlessly.
Sprinting.
Stopping.
Pulling up for jump shots.
Black hair soaked with sweat, clinging to his forehead.
A gray T-shirt, drenched, now darkened and tight against his lean, defined muscles.
It was Rukawa Kaede.
And this wasn't ordinary shooting practice.
He was simulating real-game scenarios.
At the three-point line, ball in hand—
Though no one stood in front of him, he moved as if facing an entire army.
He lowered his center of gravity.
Exploded to the right.
Instantly pulled the ball back behind his back—
Followed by a large step-back.
Jump.
Release.
His movements were unbelievably fast.
His gaze—cold and razor-sharp.
"Swish!"
The shot went in.
Rukawa landed without pause.
He immediately dashed to retrieve the ball, sprinting back beyond the arc.
"Ha… ha…"
His heavy breathing echoed through the empty gym.
Sakuragi stood frozen at the doorway, as if struck by lightning.
He had always believed that this damn fox was strong because of talent.
Because he liked to show off.
He thought that after winning games, Rukawa would just go home and sleep or watch TV.
But now…
Watching that sweat-soaked, tireless figure—
For the first time, Sakuragi felt something called "the gap."
Not just in skill.
But in that relentless hunger for victory.
That almost obsessive dedication.
"Rukawa…"
Akagi watched him, his expression complicated.
Rukawa seemed to notice them.
He stopped, turned his head.
Those cold eyes swept over Akagi and Sakuragi—
No surprise.
Just a slight nod.
Then he went right back to practice.
Completely ignoring Sakuragi.
"That damn fox…"
Sakuragi gritted his teeth.
But this time—
He didn't charge in to pick a fight.
Instead, a strange fire ignited in his chest.
"Gorilla! Hurry up!"
"Teach me! I want to train too!"
"This genius is NOT losing to that fox!"
He turned to Akagi, his eyes blazing.
Just then—
"Creeeak"
The gym doors opened again.
"Let go, Ryota!"
"I haven't finished my run yet!"
"I need to get home early to watch JOJO!"
"I'm seriously calling the cops, you know! This is kidnapping!"
A reluctant, exasperated voice echoed in.
Then—
Miyagi Ryota dragged someone inside.
That someone, wearing running shoes and looking utterly lifeless—
Was Makino Juro.
Behind them stood a surprised Mitsui Hisashi.
"Makino Juro! Just teach me once!"
"That ultra-fast dribble! That move where you just disappear!"
"Fujima's fast—I need to be faster tomorrow against Shoyo!"
Miyagi clung tightly to Makino Juro's arm like it was his lifeline.
"Bro, I haven't even finished my 10K run today."
"And that's talent. You can't learn it."
"You won't know unless you teach me!" Miyagi refused to let go.
The two struggled as they walked into the gym—
Then froze when they saw Akagi, Sakuragi, and Rukawa already inside.
The air went quiet for a few seconds.
"…Uh."
Makino Juro blinked.
He glanced at the sweat-drenched Rukawa.
Then at the burning-with-motivation Sakuragi.
"What's going on?"
"Is this some kind of Shohoku problem-child gathering tonight?"
He rubbed his forehead helplessly.
"I just wanted to finish my run and go home to sleep…"
"Juro!!"
Sakuragi looked at him like he'd just found both a savior—and a rival.
"You're here too?! Perfect!"
"Watch closely! This genius is about to master a new ultimate move!"
"Don't want to. Not interested. Goodbye."
Makino Juro turned to leave.
"NO!"
"Since everyone's here, it must be fate!" Miyagi suddenly hugged his leg.
"Captain, since we're all here… how about a scrimmage?"
"It'll help Sakuragi get used to the rules—and I can try defending Makino Juro's drives!"
Mitsui's eyes gleamed.
The moment the words "scrimmage" were spoken—
Rukawa, who had been focused only on his own training, twitched slightly.
He stopped.
Picked up the ball.
Walked over.
His eyes locked onto Makino Juro—
Burning with fighting spirit.
"I'm in," Rukawa said coldly.
Makino Juro looked at the group of hungry, wolf-like gazes surrounding him.
And let out a deep sigh.
He already knew.
There was no way he'd be getting any sleep tonight.
"Alright, alright…"
He slipped off his slippers and stretched his ankles.
"If you all want to get destroyed that badly… I'll oblige."
He walked to center court and picked up a basketball.
His eyes sharpened instantly.
"But just so we're clear—after this game, I'm going home."
…
That night.
The lights in Shohoku's gym burned bright.
No one knew what happened inside.
Only that the next morning—
When the janitor came to open the doors.
He found several bodies sprawled across the floor.
And right in the center...
Sakuragi Hanamichi lay spread-eagle.
Though too exhausted to move—
A strange smile hung on his lips.
"Heh… heh heh…"
"This genius… learned it…"
"Next time…"
"I won't get ejected…"
END OF CHAPTER
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