Kise was sprawled over the railing, boredom practically written all over his face. On the basketball court, Aomine was in the middle of a one-on-one drill with a senior member of the current national team. Of course, calling it a one-on-one was generous; it was more like a one-sided slaughter.
Aomine alternated behind-the-back dribbles with both hands, occasionally throwing in exaggerated streetball moves. His style was flashy and flamboyant, carrying a strong flavor of American street basketball. Facing him head-on was none other than the current captain of the Japan national team. Against Aomine's endless variety of offensive techniques, the captain's eyes were spinning, and his defensive balance had long since been completely torn apart.
In the stands, Kise, who could tell at a glance who was superior, half-heartedly raised his right hand and shouted weakly, "Do your best, Aomine."
As soon as Kise finished speaking, Aomine turned into a bolt of lightning, blowing past the national team captain in an instant. Facing the rim head-on, he answered Kise's cheer with a thunderous one-handed tomahawk dunk.
Watching Aomine score so effortlessly, Kise covered his face with both hands and let out a wail. "Seriously, I've had enough already! How long are we supposed to stay like this?!"
Kise angrily slammed the railing and complained, "This damn training center! We've practically cleared it already, so why isn't it open yet? Who the hell came up with these rules? Closed training for three whole months?! I can't even play matches anymore! If Kaijo doesn't win the championship this year because of this, who's going to compensate me?"
Not far away, Kagami heard Kise's shouting and slowly walked over, saying irritably, "Be grateful. At least Kaijo hasn't been eliminated yet. Seirin went home in the first round!"
Kagami sighed, his expression darkening. "Kiyoshi-senpai and the others have already graduated. Now Seirin is being held up by just me and Kuroko. And now I'm not even there, leaving Kuroko alone to lead the team against the Generation of Miracles. Just thinking about that makes me feel awful."
Veins bulged on Kagami's forehead. He, too, had been thoroughly worn down by the semi-militarized, feudal-style management of the training center. If this place were packed with strong opponents who could immerse him in the joy of basketball, it wouldn't be so bad. But ever since he arrived, he'd basically run through everyone on the Japan national team, starters and bench alike. It felt worse than the Interhigh.
Even though the professional players' mindset and court awareness were solid, in terms of individual ability, Kagami, Kise, and the others didn't even need the Zone to suppress them with ease.
Kagami and Kise exchanged a glance, both reading the same helplessness and frustration in each other's eyes. Kise leaned back against the railing, slowly squatted down, and finally sat on the floor. Staring up at the ceiling, he muttered, "I wonder what Kota is doing right now. He's probably doing special training for the finals. I really want to see it."
...
At this very moment, the Kota constantly on Kise's mind was sitting inside an internet café.
"Pair of fours."
"Beat that."
"I'll cover."
"Pair of twos."
"Pass."
"Rocket!"
"Wow, you play your cards incredibly well!"
Amid the upbeat background music of Fight the Landlord, Kota stared with dead-fish eyes as he ruthlessly crushed the two farmers, scooping up the gold beans he'd won.
"Are netizens these days really this bad at Fight the Landlord?" Kota smacked his lips, picked up the soda on the desk, and took a small sip as if tasting fine tea. Then he clicked "Change Table" and continued his grind.
Don't get the wrong idea; Kota wasn't slacking off instead of training. In fact, he had already completed Kaijo's scheduled training, which was why he came to the internet café to relax. As for why he didn't go for extra training at Shark Gym, that was because just half an hour earlier, he'd been physically shoved out by Araki herself. She used the excuse of preparing special tactics against Kaijo and insisted she didn't want him to see them.
"Seriously, does Araki really want to beat me that badly? Special tactics and all… I really wonder what kind of expression she'll have tomorrow when she sees the bombardment strategy." Kota shook his head with a chuckle.
If the opponent were a fast-break-oriented team like Touou or Seirin, he might actually feel some pressure. But since it was Yosen, a slow, heavy team, he couldn't figure out how Kaijo was supposed to lose.
"If we completely crush Yosen tomorrow, would Araki cry? Kind of want to see that." The thought surfaced in Kota's mind, but he immediately shook his head. "No, no. If I really do that, I probably won't be allowed back into Shark Gym tonight."
Sniffing lightly, Kota decided that for the sake of a more comfortable offseason, it would be better to restrain his on-court performance. That half-game arrogance was absolutely unacceptable. After all, Yosen was no longer the team from the original story that collapsed the moment Murasakibara was neutralized. The current Himuro could already enter the Zone consistently, and if he got hot, it would still be a significant headache for Kaijo.
"Forget it. I'll head back to Kaijo's gym and shoot a bit more," Kota sighed, draining his soda.
...
At the same time, inside Shark Gym, Araki had put on a pair of glasses and somehow produced a blackboard from nowhere. Her phone was connected to a group meeting, linked to all the Yosen players who would be taking part in tomorrow's game.
Holding a katana in one hand, she tapped the blackboard like a strict homeroom teacher. "Did you all understand what I just explained?"
Inside the gym, there was dead silence. Every Yosen player perfectly played the role of a terrified student. Faced with Araki's question, all of them lowered their gazes, not daring to meet her eyes.
Araki's beautiful eyes narrowed as she raised her voice. "Did you understand or not?!"
"We understood!" the Yosen players shouted in unison.
...
"Yo, Yuki. Shooting hoops?"
Kota walked into Kaijo's basketball gym and immediately spotted Yuki. The junior was drenched in sweat, and his usually neat hairstyle had become messy from training.
Kota loosened his wrists and walked over. Just as he was about to pick up a basketball, the corner of his eye caught a figure in the corner of the gym. It was a girl in a Japanese school uniform sitting there, her eyes fixed firmly on Yuki.
Kota froze. Looking at Yuki beside him, whose cheeks were faintly flushed, everything suddenly clicked.
"Yuki… are you seriously doing a gym-play scenario here?"