The school bell finally rang, signaling the end of classes.
Inside the basketball gym, the squeak of sneakers against the wooden floor blended with the thump of basketballs hitting the court, creating an electrifying symphony of motion.
Though they had just survived a brutal match, the exhilaration of defeating Shoyo washed away every trace of fatigue.
Even Makino Juro had just completed an hour of "recovery training."
"Line up!"
With a roar like thunder from Takenori Akagi, all sound immediately ceased.
The team scrambled to form a line along the sidelines.
Sweat soaked their jerseys; their chests heaved violently.
Yet in every eye shone a light they had never seen before—a light belonging to victors.
Akagi stood at the front, hands clasped behind his back, scanning every face before finally resting his gaze on Coach Anzai.
"Coach, everyone's here."
Anzai stood before them, glasses glinting in the light, concealing the expression behind his lenses.
"Ho ho ho… well done, everyone," he said, smiling like a serene Maitreya Buddha. "Ayako, tell everyone the situation."
"Yes, sir!"
Ayako stepped forward, holding a tactical board. Her expression was unusually serious today. Unlike usual, her folding fan wasn't waving—she gripped it tightly in her hand.
"Everyone, first of all, congratulations to Shohoku! We've made it into the inter-school semifinals—the final four of the prefectural tournament!"
"Ohhh!!!"
Though they had anticipated this outcome, hearing Ayako officially announce it still sparked cheers from the team.
"Wahaha!"
"All thanks to me, the genius!"
"As long as I'm on the court, ruling the nation is a piece of cake!" Sakuragi Hanamichi laughed boastfully.
Rukawa Kaede spat coldly beside him: "Idiot."
"What did you just say?! You damn fox!"
"Quiet!"
Akagi punched Sakuragi on the head—silencing him instantly.
Clearing her throat, Ayako continued:
"Though we beat Shoyo, the battles ahead are real hell mode."
She posted four slips of paper on the tactical board, each bearing the name of one of the semifinal teams.
"This is the final four of this prefectural tournament."
"From Group A, the reigning king of Kanagawa for seventeen consecutive years: Kainan University Affiliated High!"
"From Group C, our longtime rival: Ryonan High!"
"From Group D, one of last year's final four: Takezono High!"
"And finally, from Group B—us, Shohoku High!"
The mention of "Kainan" and "Ryonan" immediately cast a shadow over the team.
Ayako paused, her gaze hardening.
"I need to share a statistic."
"Just yesterday, while we were fighting Shoyo tooth and nail, Kainan finished their quarterfinal match."
"Their score was…"
Ayako took a deep breath, then wrote a staggering number on the board: 150.
"150 points?!"
Miyagi Ryota's eyes nearly popped out. His voice cracked.
"Wait, wait, Ayako… you didn't make a mistake, did you? It's 150 points? Not 105?"
"The opponent was strong too—how could anyone score 150 points?!"
Mitsui Hisashi's brow furrowed tightly.
"Forty minutes in a match… 150 points… that's nearly four points per minute."
"Absolute massacre."
Kogure Kiminobu pushed up his glasses.
"And I heard their ace, Maki Shinichi, barely even played in the second half…"
The locker room sank into silence.
150 points.
The number pressed down on everyone like a mountain. The thrill of victory over Shoyo was instantly overshadowed by this overwhelming sense of terror.
So this is Kainan, the king?
So this is the team we have to challenge?
Even the ever-confident Rukawa Kaede clenched his fists, a gravity he had never shown before settling over his expression.
Only two people remained unfazed.
One was Sakuragi Hanamichi.
"Hah! 150 points, big deal!"
Sakuragi crossed his arms, scoffing.
"That's because the other team is weak!"
"If this genius were on the court, I'd crush that Maki Shinichi so badly he wouldn't know north from south!"
"And anyway, we beat Shoyo! Shoyo's the second-best team in the prefecture!"
"Right, Yohei… ah, I mean Ryota!"
Miyagi smiled wryly, saying nothing.
The other was Makino Juro.
He leaned against the wall, half-closing his eyes.
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue.
"150 points, huh…"
"That middle-aged guy really doesn't leave anyone alive."
Though he always acted nonchalant, Makino Juro knew better than anyone that Kainan's strength didn't rely solely on Maki Shinichi—it was their relentless, unerring stability.
Like a precise killing machine, tireless and flawless.
"What a pain…"
Makino Juro sighed, draping a towel over his head.
"Can we just fast-forward to the award ceremony?"
At that moment, the usually silent Coach Anzai spoke.
"Sakuragi is right."
His voice was quiet, but possessed a strange clarity that immediately hushed the room.
He pushed up his glasses, and the eyes behind the lenses—normally gentle and smiling—flashed with wisdom.
"Confidence is crucial."
"If you're intimidated by the opponent's score before even stepping onto the court, this match is already lost in your mind."
The slightly stooped coach now seemed taller than ever in the eyes of his team.
"Facing the king, Kainan, without a will to win—even if it means biting off a chunk of your opponent at the cost of your own body—we can never compete with them."
Anzai walked slowly to the front of the team, his gaze sweeping over every member:
Akagi, Kogure, Mitsui, Miyagi, Rukawa, Sakuragi, Juro…
"Tell me," he said, his voice deep and powerful,
"Do you… want to win?"
Those simple words landed like a spark in a room filled with gas.
Akagi's head shot up, eyes blazing.
He had waited three years for this moment.
Every late-night practice, every injury endured, every broken dream…
"Yes!!"
He roared, shaking the gym.
Mitsui clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
"Of course I want to win!"
"I'm taking back all the time I lost!"
The boy who once knelt crying on the floor, pleading, "I want to play basketball," now had eyes filled solely with the thirst for victory.
Miyagi grinned, showing a sharp canine tooth, defiant and fierce.
Rukawa said nothing, but his aura exploded like a drawn sword, sharp and deadly.
Sakuragi leapt up, pumping his fists:
"Old man! Do you even need to ask?!"
"This genius will beat everyone! And then laugh at the top of the world, hahaha!"
"And Makino Juro?"
Anzai's gaze shifted to the corner where Makino Juro leaned casually.
All eyes followed.
Makino Juro pulled the towel off his head, revealing his deadpan eyes.
He looked at his fired-up teammates, letting out a helpless smile as he scratched his head.
"Ah… it's a pain, sure."
"But… losing? I hate that even more!"
END OF CHAPTER
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