Chapter 2: First Steps at Shohoku
The morning sun streamed through the classroom windows of Shohoku High, catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air. The school had the usual buzz of students shifting between classes, some laughing, some grumbling about the first exams of the year. Among them, a boy with sharp, observant eyes weaved his way through the crowded hallways with a quiet determination. Renji Takahashi had officially transferred to Shohoku High today.
Shohoku High wasn't just any school. Its basketball team had a reputation that reached across the prefecture—strong, competitive, and notorious for producing prodigies who would one day leave their mark on the national scene. Renji knew that. He had read about them, watched videos, memorized stats… but today, it was no longer theory. Today, he would see it firsthand.
He entered his homeroom quietly, greeted by a few curious glances. Most of the students didn't know him yet, and that suited Renji perfectly. He preferred observing before interacting—a habit that had become second nature ever since he realized the potential of his copying ability.
"Hey, new guy! You're Shohoku now, huh?" a familiar voice called from the back of the classroom.
Renji turned to see a tall, fiery-haired boy grinning at him, leaning casually against the desk. His aura screamed confidence, bordering on reckless arrogance. This had to be none other than Hanamichi Sakuragi, the notorious troublemaker everyone in the basketball club whispered about.
"I… yes," Renji replied politely, his calm tone a stark contrast to Hanamichi's energetic presence.
Hanamichi's grin widened. "Cool. So, are you gonna be good at basketball or what? Shohoku's got a bunch of strong players, you know. You better not be another weakling."
Renji's lips twitched into a small smile. "We'll see."
The bell rang, cutting short their brief exchange. Renji followed the flow of students into their next class, his mind quietly mapping the school layout, mentally noting the gym, the basketball courts, and even the lunchroom where he might run into members of the basketball team.
After classes ended, Renji made his way to the gym, curiosity and a subtle nervousness propelling him forward. The sound of basketballs thudding against polished wood echoed down the hall. When he pushed the door open, he froze—not out of fear, but out of observation.
On the court, a lean boy with a cold, almost untouchable air was effortlessly maneuvering around defenders, shooting with uncanny precision. His name, Renji would soon learn, was Kaede Rukawa—the silent ace of Shohoku, already legendary even in his first year.
Nearby, the red-haired Hanamichi was bouncing the ball aggressively, trying to match Rukawa's skill but failing comically, drawing laughter and groans from the other team members. The contrast between the two was striking—Rukawa, composed and naturally talented, and Hanamichi, a whirlwind of raw energy and stubbornness.
Renji stepped onto the court quietly, ball in hand, and observed for a few moments. Every movement, every feint, every change in stance was cataloged in his mind. This was his world. By simply watching, he could absorb skills—though he knew the challenge wasn't just physical. Reading the timing, predicting reactions, and syncing with teammates—those were aspects that no mere mimicry could grant.
Hanamichi, noticing a new presence, called out, "Hey! You! Yeah, you! Think you can play?"
Renji met his gaze steadily. "I can try."
Hanamichi laughed loudly. "Try? That's all? Come on! If you're really good, show me something!"
Renji didn't say a word. He dribbled once, then smoothly performed a step-back jumper he had just observed from Rukawa, landing it with perfect balance. The ball swished through the net, and a few students who had been watching murmured in surprise.
Hanamichi's jaw dropped. "Whoa! What the—how'd you do that?!"
Renji tilted his head, shrugging lightly. "Just… observation."
The murmurs grew louder. Rumors had traveled fast in Shohoku, and now whispers of a new transfer student who could "copy anyone's moves" began spreading among the gym-goers.
Coach Mitsuyoshi Anzai, a gentle and wise figure who had guided the Shohoku team for years, stepped onto the court, his eyes narrowing slightly at Renji. He had seen many talented players, but there was something different about this new kid. Something that went beyond ordinary skill.
"Who are you?" Coach Anzai asked calmly.
"Renji Takahashi, sir," he replied politely.
Anzai's gaze softened slightly. "I see. You've just transferred in, and you've already caught my attention. But basketball isn't just about skill. It's about teamwork, heart, and understanding each other on the court. Can you handle that?"
Renji's eyes met the coach's. "I'll do my best, sir."
Hanamichi, still in shock from Renji's jump shot, couldn't help but blurt out, "We're gonna see if this guy can play with us! Right, new guy?"
Rukawa's cold gaze lingered on Renji, silent, unreadable, yet somehow assessing. Renji felt the unspoken challenge: a battle not of brute strength, but of skill, strategy, and instincts.
Practice began. Drills, scrimmages, layups, and fast breaks—all of it moved at a furious pace. Renji copied, adapted, and integrated. Every move he saw, he could replicate; every feint, every crossover, every shooting angle—he absorbed it. But he didn't just copy mechanically. He added subtle personal touches, slight variations that made the moves his own.
Hanamichi, furious at being outshone, charged at him repeatedly, trying to block, steal, or force errors. Renji read every attempt, his body moving almost instinctively, and with each play, he turned Hanamichi's raw aggression into failed attempts.
By the end of practice, the gym was silent for a moment, as if everyone was digesting what they had just witnessed. Coach Anzai finally spoke, his voice low but firm:
"Renji… you have skill. But remember, copying is only the beginning. The heart of a player comes from creating, not just imitating. Do you understand?"
Renji nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand."
Later, as the students left the gym, Hanamichi glared at him, muttering under his breath, "This guy… he's gonna be a problem. But… maybe he's interesting too."
Rukawa, silent as ever, walked past without a word, but Renji noticed the faintest hint of acknowledgment in his eyes.
Outside, Renji texted Haruko: First day at Shohoku. Gym… amazing. I think I'll like it here.
Haruko replied almost instantly: I knew you would. Don't get into too much trouble, copycat. 😏
Renji smiled, feeling that familiar warmth. Yes, Shohoku High was bigger, faster, and more competitive than anything he had known. But with his ability, his drive, and the quiet support of Haruko, he felt ready to face the challenges ahead.
The stage was set. Rivalries would form, friendships would be tested, and Renji Takahashi—the boy who could copy any move—was about to step into a world where talent alone wasn't enough. Where heart, courage, and ingenuity would determine true greatness.
And as he dribbled the ball under the fading sunset outside the gym, he knew one thing: this was only the beginning.