The next day.
News spread like wildfire, sweeping across all of Kanagawa like a storm.
Shohoku defeating Tsukubu and advancing to the top 8 took flight like it had wings, spreading fast through the high school basketball scene in Kanagawa.
At the same time, the name Aoi Kunisaku stirred up a huge wave.
His ridiculous dribbling, unpredictable shooting, out-of-this-world speed, and near-unstoppable offense—every one of these stood out.
Praise poured in nonstop. Titles and labels piled on Aoi Kunisaku's head like they were free.
His popularity skyrocketed like a rocket launch. With him at the center, Shohoku's status also soared.
Some even boldly guessed—maybe Shohoku could be the team to finally end Kainan's reign.
Of course, most of that was just chat over lunch. Fun speculation to get people talking.
But another piece of news stole all the spotlight.
[Kanagawa Prefectural Semifinals Coming Soon! Shohoku VS Shoyo!]
The announcement dropped like a bomb, pulling every high school basketball team's attention toward it.
In everyone's eyes, Shoyo was on the same level as Kainan.
Even if Kainan had been champion for years, Shoyo always stayed solidly in second. That alone showed how powerful they were.
For years, no team had been able to break the Shoyo-Kainan grip on the top.
In a small ice cream shop in Kanagawa, Akagi Takenori and Kogure Kiminobu sat face to face, talking quietly.
"Can't believe we really made it this far," Kogure Kiminobu said with deep emotion. His eyes sparkled with excitement he couldn't hide.
Thinking back on their three years in high school, it felt like a dream.
Akagi Takenori stirred the ice in his iced coffee without a word. But the look on his face said he agreed completely.
Kogure Kiminobu went on, "Next game is against Shoyo..."
He paused, a hopeful look spreading across his face. Then he added, "Maybe this year, we really have a shot at nationals, Akagi."
Akagi Takenori's eyes lit up with determination. He gave a firm nod. "Yeah."
Then Kogure suddenly said, "Still, Aoi really gave us one hell of a surprise. I don't know why, but as long as he's around, I feel... steady."
"Hmph." Akagi Takenori let out a short snort. His tone was stiff. "Who knows. That guy only knows how to play solo. Shoyo's nothing like the teams we've faced so far. What if they shut him down? Then what?"
Uh...
Kogure Kiminobu froze. He hadn't thought about that.
But remembering Aoi Kunisaku's insane skills, he replied, "I doubt it. With his level, there's probably no one left in high school basketball who can match him."
Akagi Takenori said seriously, "Don't forget—this is the prefectural tournament."
"Don't stay wound up all the time. You gotta relax a bit too, Akagi," Kogure Kiminobu said with a laugh.
Akagi might not know this—
But Kogure had heard it from Shimizu Kanon: last time, Aoi only used the most basic version of his Super High-Speed Dribble and Formless Shot. He hadn't shown his more advanced techniques at all.
Which meant Aoi Kunisaku was still holding back a big chunk of strength.
Thinking of that, Kogure couldn't help smiling. He told himself, We've got this.
…
At an outdoor street court—
Aoi Kunisaku was practicing alone, dripping sweat as he played. His moves were fast, sharp, like there was a worthy opponent in front of him.
Shimizu Kanon sat quietly on a bench nearby. Sometimes she fiddled with her phone, fingers swiping across the screen. Other times she scribbled in her notebook, totally absorbed.
The constant thump thump of the ball hitting the court didn't bother her at all. It actually seemed to fuel her focus.
Aoi Kunisaku had long gotten used to this.
He kept dribbling and shooting, not disturbing her.
Time ticked by. No one knew how long had passed before Shimizu Kanon finally paused, looked up, and smiled with relaxed confidence.
"Finally done." She stood up, stretched, and loosened her stiff body.
…
At that moment, the sound of a basketball swishing through the net rang out again. Aoi Kunisaku had lost count of how many shots he'd made.
Noticing her movement, he turned his head and asked, "You finished?"
Shimizu Kanon nodded gently. "Yeah. I've organized data on every Shoyo player. Wanna see it first?"
Aoi Kunisaku clicked his tongue, looking bored. "Nah. That'd ruin the fun."
Shimizu Kanon grinned slyly. "I really think you should take a look. Shoyo's strong, you know. You might lose!"
"Hah?" Aoi Kunisaku raised an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with confidence. "Lose? What're you talking about? Someone who can beat me—"
He suddenly stopped, a puzzled look crossing his face.
Weird. Why'd I say that?
Shimizu Kanon noticed and asked curiously, "What is it? What were you about to say?"
Aoi Kunisaku shook his head. "Nothing. I just hope Shoyo lasts longer this time. Last match didn't satisfy me."
Shimizu Kanon felt something was off, but didn't push. "I need to get back to the basketball club to finalize the data. Let's go."
"Oi! Why do I have to go too?" Aoi Kunisaku grumbled, clearly reluctant.
Shimizu Kanon instantly put on a pitiful face and whined, "You're a big guy, aren't you? It's getting late. Would you really make a girl walk home in the dark alone?"
Aoi Kunisaku rolled his eyes. They'd been childhood friends since forever—of course he could tell she was faking it.
"Ugh..." Aoi Kunisaku let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll come."
When Aoi Kunisaku agreed, Shimizu Kanon instantly dropped the pitiful act. A bright, sweet smile spread across her face.
…
Evening.
Shohoku High School · Gymnasium.
The quiet gym held a burning intensity in the air.
Thump...
Thump...
Thump...
The sound of the basketball bouncing echoed in rhythm.
Rukawa Kaede's figure darted across the court. His eyes were sharp like a hawk, a fierce fighting spirit burning in his gaze.
Right now, his mind was full of Aoi Kunisaku's performance on the court.
That Super High-Speed Dribble, those Formless Shots…
As he thought about it, he started mimicking Aoi's dribbling.
But as soon as he began, the ball slipped away, bouncing off across the floor.
Rukawa Kaede frowned. He wasn't discouraged. He quickly grabbed the ball and tried again.
But every attempt ended in failure. Either he pushed the ball too hard, or it bounced off his foot. Nothing he did could match Aoi's precise control.
His brow furrowed tightly, full of frustration.
He never thought the gap between him and Aoi Kunisaku was this huge.
Thinking back to their one-on-one, he realized Aoi had gone easy on him.
No—"going easy" wasn't enough. It was like throwing the whole ocean at him. A whole galaxy's worth.
That thought lit a fire of anger inside him. But he quickly forced it down.
He knew with his current level, he couldn't beat Aoi. Challenging him again would be pointless.
Then he thought of Aoi's casual, yet pinpoint-accurate shooting.
He stepped to the Free-Throw Line, jumped, and copied Aoi's relaxed shot form.
Clang…
The ball slammed into the rim and bounced out of bounds.
He didn't give up and kept trying.
Clang…
Clang…
Clang…
The sound of bricks echoed in the gym. A few times, he even completely missed the rim and backboard.
It was only then he truly realized—Aoi's seemingly casual shooting was way harder than it looked. It wasn't just about timing and force. Even the angle was brutally difficult to control.
"That guy actually sinks every one of those shots," he thought, quietly amazed.
At that moment, he didn't notice someone outside the gym doors peeking through the small crack, watching him.
"That damn fox… he's copying that weirdo again," Sakuragi Hanamichi mumbled as he watched Rukawa practice, but didn't go in.
He wanted to score points too. But he just couldn't.
Watching Aoi and Rukawa shine on the court made him feel left out.
They were his least favorite people on the team.
"Sakuragi." Suddenly, a voice called from behind.
He jumped, face going pale and body stiff. He nearly passed out.
He turned around slowly—and found Akagi Haruko standing behind him.
Instantly, his expression melted into a goofy, awkward grin. "Haruko…"
Akagi Haruko smiled sweetly and asked curiously, "Sakuragi, why are you standing out here? Why don't you go in?"
"Uh? I… I… uh…" Sakuragi Hanamichi stammered, totally lost for words.
He instinctively shifted his body to block the door crack, afraid she'd realize he was spying on Rukawa. That'd be way too embarrassing.
Akagi Haruko tilted her head, watching him with curiosity. Something felt off.
"Hahaha…" Sakuragi Hanamichi suddenly let out a loud laugh, scratching his head. "I was just passing by! What a coincidence running into you here, Haruko!"
Uh…
Akagi Haruko looked totally confused.
Wasn't this the gym?
Meeting someone here wasn't exactly rare.
…
A little way down the path, under the soft glow of a streetlight, a round figure stood quietly.
His white hair swayed gently in the evening breeze, like it held stories of time gone by.
His glasses caught the moonlight, reflecting a cold glint. It gave him an air of deep mystery.
It was none other than Anzai Mitsuyoshi, the coach of Shohoku.
He'd just been passing by. But seeing Sakuragi Hanamichi sneaking around the gym entrance caught his attention.
Inside, the steady thump-thump of a basketball echoed.
Anzai Mitsuyoshi thought for a moment. He had a good idea who was in there.
Most of the team had gone home by this hour.
Only Akagi Takenori, Kogure Kiminobu—and Rukawa Kaede—would still stay late.
And from the sound of that blinding fast dribble, it clearly wasn't Akagi or Kogure.
So the answer was obvious. Rukawa Kaede must be inside practicing.
As for why it wasn't Aoi Kunisaku, Anzai Mitsuyoshi chuckled to himself.
That guy was lazy by nature. Just showing up on time was a miracle. Expecting him to stay late for extra practice? You'd have to be dreaming.
He looked at Sakuragi Hanamichi and could tell what his basketball problem was. He started thinking—maybe it was time to teach him some shooting basics.
Anzai Mitsuyoshi rubbed his chin, lost in thought.
But he didn't notice—two other people nearby were watching him with weird expressions.
"Isn't that Coach Anzai? What's he doing over there?" Shimizu Kanon asked in a whisper, puzzled.
Aoi Kunisaku glanced over casually. "Who knows. Old people stuff. Why do you care?"
Shimizu Kanon blinked and thought, True. Coach is pretty old. Doing weird things now and then isn't that strange.
"Ahh…" Aoi Kunisaku yawned, clearly impatient. "Alright, let's go! I haven't eaten yet!"
"Okay, okay." Shimizu Kanon was feeling hungry too.
The two of them walked side by side out of the school, quickly disappearing into the night.