"Just you wait…"
Sakuragi Hanamichi gritted his teeth, snorting like an angry bull.
"One day, this genius is going to make you kneel and worship me!"
"You'll beg to praise me!"
Just as Sakuragi's inner monologue was reaching critical mass, an icy gaze suddenly sent a chill down his spine.
He snapped his head around.
There stood Fukuda Kicchou not far away, his narrow eyes locked firmly onto him.
Even after being baited into that offensive foul by Mitsui Hisashi, the fire in Fukuda's eyes hadn't dimmed in the slightest.
If anything, he looked even more dangerous now—like a wounded lone wolf, his threat level skyrocketing.
Their eyes met.
There were no sparks—only an awkward, suffocating silence.
"Hey."
Sakuragi broke it first.
Hands on his hips, chin raised high, he tried to look down on Fukuda through sheer nostril arrogance—desperately covering up the embarrassment of getting blown by earlier.
"What are you staring at?"
"Never seen a genius before?"
He pointed straight at Fukuda, brimming with swagger.
"Don't look at me like that!"
"I just let my guard down earlier, got it?"
Fukuda didn't respond immediately.
He simply stared.
His slightly gloomy face twitched faintly.
Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.
His voice was hoarse, slow, and carried a strangely rigid, almost textbook seriousness:
"You should say… 'please don't look at me like that.'"
"Huh?"
Sakuragi froze, as if he'd just heard an alien language.
"Because I'm a year older than you. I'm a second-year, you're a first-year."
"A junior must use honorifics when speaking to a senior."
Fukuda's face remained expressionless, his tone dead serious.
The people nearby who overheard nearly broke on the spot.
Even Miyagi Ryota, who was retreating on defense, slipped and almost face-planted.
"This guy…"
Miyagi's lips twitched wildly. "Is his brain short-circuiting or something?"
Sakuragi's eyes went wide, as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous joke of his life.
"Honorifics?"
He suddenly leaned in, their faces almost touching.
"You want me—a genius—to use honorifics for you? Are you dreaming?"
"I'm the future savior of basketball! A being beyond common sense!"
"In a genius's world, there's no such thing as grade levels—only strength!"
The more Sakuragi spoke, the more fired up he got, his red head nearly butting into Fukuda's forehead.
"You want me to call you 'senpai'? Dream on!"
"You should be kneeling and calling me 'Lord Sakuragi' instead!"
Fukuda: "..."
Faced with Sakuragi's completely illogical reasoning, Fukuda's mental CPU clearly overloaded.
He fell silent.
From the Ryonan bench's perspective, however, the scene looked entirely different.
"Hey, look!"
"Fukuda-senpai is actually talking to that redhead!"
"No way!"
"Fukuda-senpai is usually so withdrawn he barely talks at all!"
"What kind of magic does that Sakuragi guy have to make him open his mouth?!"
The Ryonan players whispered among themselves, stunned—it was rarer than a comet sighting.
"Hmph. Don't get provoked by him, Fukuda."
"That red-haired kid might have decent physical ability, but at his core he's just a loudmouth punk."
"He can't play, but he sure knows how to mess with people's mentality."
From the sidelines, Coach Taoka suddenly roared, his voice booming like a bell:
"FUKUDA! IGNORE HIM!"
"That guy's best at running his mouth!"
"Shut him up with your play!"
That shout carried across the court like a built-in loudspeaker.
Sakuragi, already on the verge of overheating, twitched at the words.
"Running my mouth?"
Those four words were like a spark dropped into a powder keg.
He whipped his head toward the Ryonan bench, his wide eyes instantly locking onto Taoka Moichi.
For a split second, Taoka felt like he'd been targeted by a prehistoric T-Rex. A chill crept up his back.
Then—
Sakuragi planted one hand on his hip and pointed straight at him.
Drawing a deep breath from his core, he unleashed a thunderous roar:
"WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU OLD GEEZER?!"
"BOOM!"
It was like a lightning strike had hit the center of the arena.
The entire gym fell into dead silence.
Everything froze.
The referee's whistle dropped from his mouth.
Akagi, who had been drinking water, spat it all over Ayako.
The audience's jaws collectively hit the floor.
"Old… old geezer?"
"What did he just call Ryonan's coach?!"
"My god, this guy's insane!"
"That's Coach Taoka! A top-tier coach in Kanagawa!"
On the Ryonan bench, players shrank into themselves, pale-faced, not daring to even glance at their coach.
At the eye of the storm, Taoka Moichi stood frozen.
His face went through a dramatic geological shift—
From confusion… to shock… to absolute fury.
Veins bulged across his forehead like writhing earthworms, his face twitching uncontrollably.
"Old… geezer?!"
His mind roared.
"I'm only in my forties!"
"I'm in the prime of my life—the pride of Kanagawa!"
"How am I old? How am I a geezer?!"
"That uncultured monkey!"
But he was a renowned coach—the face of Ryonan.
If he stooped to arguing with a first-year high schooler in public, it would be utterly humiliating.
"I must endure… I must endure…"
Taoka took a deep breath, forcibly swallowing the surge of blood rising to his throat, his face turning a deep purplish-red.
Meanwhile, Sakuragi had absolutely no idea how much trouble he'd just caused.
Seeing Taoka remain silent, he assumed the man had backed down—and became even more smug.
"Hmph! What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
"Forgot how terrifying this genius is?"
"Daring to badmouth me behind my back!"
"Let me tell you—not only am I sharp-tongued, my basketball skills are unmatched!"
"Just wash your neck—no, wait—wash your eyes and watch closely!"
Sakuragi puffed out his chest, full of pride.
Everyone else: "..."
On the Shohoku bench, Makino Juro was already collapsed over Akagi's sports bag, laughing uncontrollably.
"Hahahaha! 'Old geezer'…"
"That kid's taunting skill is absolutely maxed out! He's got built-in AoE aggro!"
"Coach Taoka's blood pressure must be through the roof right now—he probably needs emergency heart pills!"
Wiping tears of laughter, Makino Juro glanced toward the stands.
That's where the players from Kainan were seated.
"Come to think of it… how's that 'middle-aged man' feeling right now?"
Sure enough—
In the stands, Maki Shinichi, known as the "Emperor," stroked his chin with a rather complicated expression.
He looked at the red-haired boy hopping around on the court, then at Taoka, who looked on the verge of exploding.
And suddenly, he fell into deep thought.
"Last time we met, that kid called me 'middle-aged man'…"
Maki glanced down at his slightly mature complexion.
Then compared it to the term "old geezer."
"…Hmm."
He nodded slightly, a strange sense of relief rising within him.
"Only calling me 'middle-aged'… seems I'm still holding up pretty well."
"At least it's better than 'old geezer.'"
If Kiyota Nobunaga knew what his captain was thinking right now, he'd probably lose it on the spot.
"Captain! What kind of comparison is that?!"
"Where's Kainan's pride?!"