The two teams gathered at center court. The contrast was stark—Shinmaruko in their crisp, matching uniforms with proper numbers and school logos. Kuzuryu in mismatched practice jerseys hastily borrowed from the girls' team, looking more like a pickup game crew than an organized team.
Sora stood among his teammates, barely visible behind Momoharu and Chucky. His heart was pounding, but his hands were steady.
Yasuhara leaned down toward Sora, his voice uncertain. "Hey, Kurumatani. I've never been in a real game before. This nervous feeling in my stomach—is that normal?"
Sora looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah, it's completely normal."
"Oh, good. So you've done this before, right? You know what to expect?"
"Actually," Sora's smile widened, "this is my first time too."
"WHAT?!" Yasuhara's shout drew everyone's attention.
"Wait, what do you mean first time?" Nabe demanded.
"First time in a real game?" Chucky added, his expression alarmed.
Momoharu's head snapped toward Sora. "Oi, Sora, what are they talking about?"
Before Sora could answer, Momoharu raised his hand. "REF! TIMEOUT!"
The referee looked confused—they hadn't even started yet—but allowed it.
The Kuzuryu team huddled on their bench. Madoka looked worried in the stands. The Shinmaruko players watched with amused expressions.
"Explain," Momoharu said flatly. "Now."
"Okay, okay," Sora held up his hands defensively. "I was on my middle school basketball team, but I was always a substitute. Because of my height, the coach never let me play in actual games. I practiced with the team, I knew the plays, but I never got to be a starter."
"You've got to be kidding me," Yasuhara groaned.
"So you're telling us," Nabe said slowly, "that we've been taking advice from someone who's never even played in a real game?"
"I know what I'm doing!" Sora insisted. "I've practiced more than anyone. I know basketball inside and out. I just never got the chance to show it in a game. Until now."
Momoharu stared at him for a long moment, then started laughing. Actually laughing.
"What's so funny?!" Chucky demanded.
"Don't you get it?" Momoharu said, grinning fiercely. "This is perfect. We're a team of delinquents who barely know the rules, led by a captain who gave up basketball two years ago, and coached by a short first-year who's never played in a game. We're the biggest underdogs in the history of basketball."
He stood up, his grin turning into something predatory. "Which means when we win, it's going to be that much sweeter."
Sora felt warmth spread through his chest. "Captain..."
"But," Momoharu pointed at him, "if you screw this up, I'm making you clean the locker room for a year."
"Deal," Sora said immediately.
As they broke the huddle, Sora caught Momoharu's arm. "Captain, do you remember our secret plan?"
Momoharu's grin widened. "How could I forget? Let's give these prefecture-level players something to remember."
----
Momoharu and Chiba stood in the center circle, ready for the jump ball. Despite being the same height, Chiba's muscular build made him look more imposing.
Tokiwa approached Sora with a friendly smile. "Hey there! Looking forward to a good game—"
Sora didn't respond, his eyes locked on the ball in the referee's hand. His focus had kicked in, tuning out everything except the game about to begin.
Tokiwa blinked, surprised by the cold reception. Then he smiled wider. The tiny shrimp must be nervous. Probably overwhelmed by the moment.
"Don't worry," Tokiwa said encouragingly. "We'll go easy on you—"
"Everyone in position!" the referee called out.
Sora moved to his spot, his body coiled like a spring. Beside him, Tokiwa was still smiling, already thinking about the easy win ahead.
Chiba noticed Momoharu and called out mockingly, "Yo, Hanazono! Where's your brother? Chiaki too scared to show up?"
Momoharu's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He just stared at the ball, every muscle tensed.
The referee held the basketball high.
Here we go, Sora thought. Time to show them what six days of hell can do.
The referee tossed the ball up.
Both Momoharu and Chiba shot upward like rockets, their vertical leaps carrying them high above the court. They rose simultaneously, their timing nearly identical, both reaching for the ball at its apex.
Their hands met the ball at the same instant.
SMACK!
The basketball compressed between their palms, squeezed by two opposing forces of nearly equal strength. For a moment, it seemed like a stalemate—two athletes perfectly matched, neither able to gain advantage.
But while Chiba had already started his descent, Momoharu's superior hang time gave him a split-second longer in the air. He redirected the ball with his fingertips, sending it toward Sora's position.
The ball arced through the air, not quite controlled, more of a deflection than a clean tip.
But Sora had anticipated it.
His enhanced court vision had tracked both players' trajectories, calculated the ball's likely path, and positioned himself perfectly. While the Shinmaruko players were still processing what happened, Sora was already moving.
He caught the deflected ball cleanly at the three-point line.
For a moment, the gym was quiet. Everyone expected him to dribble, to set up the offense, to do something conservative for the opening play.
Instead, Sora set his feet, brought the ball up, and released.
From just inside half-court.
"WHAT?!" Tokiwa's eyes widened in shock.
The ball left Sora's hands with perfect rotation, his form flawless—a blend of Himuro's elegance and Hyūga's precision. It arced high through the air, seeming to hang forever.
The entire gym held its breath.
SWISH.
The ball dropped through the net without touching iron.
3-0, Kuzuryu High.
The Shinmaruko gymnasium erupted—but not in cheers. In shocked gasps and confused murmurs.
Sora landed, his expression calm, and looked directly at the Shinmaruko bench.
"Don't underestimate me," he said clearly, his voice carrying across the suddenly quiet court, "just because I'm small."
The Kuzuryu bench exploded in celebration. Yasuhara and Nabe were jumping up and down. Chucky was shouting something incomprehensible. Even Momoharu was grinning like a maniac.
"DID YOU SEE THAT?!" Yasuhara yelled.
"FROM HALF-COURT!" Nabe added.
"THAT'S OUR TEAMMATE!" Chucky finished.
In the stands, Madoka's jaw had dropped. The girls' team was in similar shock.
"Did he just..." one girl started.
"From half-court..." another finished.
"On the first possession..." a third added weakly.
Madoka found herself smiling despite her shock. So this is your secret plan, Sora?
----
Chiba's expression had darkened considerably. "That was a fluke," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "He got lucky. Won't happen again."
"Don't let it shake you!" Tokiwa called out to his teammates, though his eyes kept darting to Sora with new wariness. "It's just one shot! We're still going to dominate!"
The Shinmaruko point guard brought the ball up the court, more carefully now. Tokiwa moved to receive the pass at the wing.
But as the ball left the point guard's hands, a shadow blur crossed his vision.
SLAP!
Chucky, using the aggressive defensive instincts Sora had drilled into him, had jumped the passing lane perfectly. His street-fighting reflexes translated into quick hands on defense.
"CHUCKY!" Yasuhara shouted, already running up court.
Chucky grabbed the loose ball and threw it ahead to Yasuhara, who caught it awkwardly but managed to secure it.
In the stands, the girls' team gasped again.
"Did Chucky just make a steal?!"
"And Yasuhara caught the pass!"
"They couldn't even dribble six days ago!"
Yasuhara, remembering the countless three-man weave drills, immediately looked for Sora. Their eyes met, and Yasuhara threw a chest pass.
It wasn't pretty—the ball had too much spin—but Sora adjusted, catching it at the top of the key.
Tokiwa, finally taking this seriously, rushed to defend. He dropped into a proper defensive stance, hands up, feet moving.
"Not this time, shorty," Tokiwa said, all friendliness gone from his voice. "I'm guarding you for real now."
Sora faced him, the ball in his hands. For a moment, he just stood there, reading Tokiwa's stance. The defender was taller, longer, more athletic. But Sora had practiced against Momoharu for six days straight. He knew how to create space.
Sora executed a perfect shot fake—one of Himuro's signature moves. His shoulders dipped, his knees bent, his arms came up as if releasing the ball.
Tokiwa, eager to contest after the half-court make, bit hard on the fake. He jumped, hands stretched high.
Sora waited for him to reach his apex, then calmly stepped into his shot. The ball left his hands with textbook rotation.
SWISH.
6-0, Kuzuryu High.
Tokiwa landed, his expression stunned. He'd been completely fooled—and he knew it.
Chiba stared at Sora with new eyes. Then, surprisingly, he laughed.
"Alright, Tokiwa," Chiba called out, jogging back on defense. "You were right not to underestimate him. That kid's the real deal."
"Glad you finally noticed," Sora said, surprising even himself with the trash talk. But the clutch mentality he'd inherited from Hyūga was flowing through him, giving him confidence he'd never felt before.
Momoharu jogged past Sora, clapping him on the shoulder. "Nice shooting, rookie. But don't get cocky. They're about to adjust."
"Let them," Sora said, his eyes bright. "We're just getting started."
----
The Shinmaruko coach called timeout, his expression bewildered. His team gathered around him, equally confused.
"What the hell is happening out there?" the coach demanded. "We're down 6-0 to a team that doesn't even practice!"
"Coach," Tokiwa said seriously, "that #4... Kurumatani. He's not normal. Those weren't lucky shots. His form is perfect. His fakes are elite-level. He's got skills comparable to prefecture-level players."
"He's 149 cm tall!" the coach protested.
"I know what I saw," Tokiwa insisted. "The height doesn't matter if we can't guard him."
Chiba nodded. "Tokiwa's right. That kid is special. And their captain—Hanazono—his vertical leap is insane. We need to take them seriously."
The coach took a deep breath, adjusting his strategy on the fly. "Alright. Tokiwa, you stay on Kurumatani—no more gambling on steals. Chiba, watch for their captain crashing the boards. Everyone else, tighten up the defense. They caught us sleeping. It won't happen again."
----
The Kuzuryu team was celebrating like they'd already won the championship.
"SIX TO NOTHING!" Yasuhara was practically dancing.
"WE'RE BEATING A TOP TEAM!" Nabe added.
Momoharu grabbed them both. "Calm down. It's been one minute. We have thirty-nine more to go. They're going to adjust, they're going to come at us harder. Stay focused."
He looked at Sora. "How you feeling?"
"Good," Sora said honestly. His enhanced stamina meant he wasn't tired at all despite the adrenaline rush.
"Good. Because they're going to start double-teaming you. When they do, find the open man."
"Got it, Captain."
As they broke the huddle, Madoka caught Sora's eye from the stands. She was beaming, tears of joy in her eyes.
Sora gave her a small nod, then turned back to the court.
This is for you, Mom, he thought. Watch me fly.
The timeout ended. Both teams returned to the court.
Shinmaruko had the ball, their expressions now serious and focused.
The real game was about to begin.