Time flowed quietly, like a river.
Before anyone realized it, the date had already turned to May 19th.
In front of a gymnasium somewhere in Kanagawa, sunlight slanted across the pavement as the murmur of voices gradually grew louder.
A massive banner hung high above the entrance, the bold red characters on a white background declaring:
"Kanagawa Prefecture High School Boys' Basketball Preliminary Tournament."
The bright red letters carried a sense of solemnity and pride.
Since Ryonan had been one of the top four teams last year, even though this was just the first game of the preliminaries, the crowd was far larger than expected.
While other venues remained relatively quiet, this one was already buzzing with people.
Seven or eight out of every ten spectators were clearly here for Ryonan.
As fans filtered in, chatting excitedly, the noise outside swelled—
And in the distance, a bus with "Ryonan High School" painted on the side rolled steadily toward the parking lot.
"Look! It's Ryonan's bus!"
"They're finally here!"
"I came just to see Sendoh—he was amazing last year!"
"Wait, didn't Ryonan change captains this year?"
"Yeah, I heard it's a first-year student. Is that true?"
The crowd stirred with excitement, all eyes fixed on the approaching bus.
But just off to the side, near the gym's diagonal entrance, stood another group of figures—quiet, almost forgotten in the noise.
They wore matching dark blue tracksuits, "Kawanobe High School" printed across their chests.
They were today's opponents.
The cheers, the screams for Sendoh, the whispers about Ryonan's new captain—every word drifted past them like the wind.
They heard everything.
But no one looked their way. To the crowd, they were nothing more than background characters in Ryonan's grand story—dust waiting to be brushed aside.
"Hmph. It's just a top-four team. What's the big deal?" the tallest boy scoffed, his jacket hanging open to reveal a jersey marked No. 8.
"Don't underestimate them," said another, voice calm and steady. His number, 6, peeked out beneath his jacket. "Ryonan's not an easy team to beat."
"Hey, did you guys hear that?" a boy with short, curly hair grinned, his No. 7 catching the sunlight. "They're saying Ryonan's new captain is a first-year. That's gotta be a joke, right?"
Before he could continue, a low, commanding voice cut in.
"Enough."
It came from the shortest boy—No. 4, printed boldly across his chest. He was smaller than the others, yet when he spoke, everyone fell silent.
Without another word, the Kawanobe players turned and quietly entered the gym, their figures swallowed by the shadows inside.
Moments later, the door of Ryonan's bus hissed open. Sunlight poured in as figures stepped down one by one.
Each movement was calm, measured—almost ritualistic.
At the front was Ake, his reddish hair glowing like embers under the light.
Behind him followed Sendoh, that same lazy smile on his face as always.
And last came Uozumi, his towering frame nearly blocking the bus's doorway. His heavy steps made the ground seem to tremble.
When all the players stood together, an invisible pressure filled the air.
As they walked toward the gym entrance, the crowd instinctively quieted. The noise faded, replaced by a collective awe.
A path opened naturally, as if for royalty.
"Is this Ryonan…? Just walking past them feels intense."
"Look—it's Sendoh! Oh my god, he's even better-looking in person!"
"Wow, that must be Uozumi. He's massive—I'd barely reach his chest!"
"But who's that one at the front? His hair's so striking…"
"Didn't they say the new captain's a first-year? Could that be him?"
Ake ignored the chatter. Without a glance at the crowd, Ryonan marched straight through the path, disappearing into the shadowed entrance of the gymnasium.
Across Kanagawa, the same scene was repeating—teams arriving at their arenas, stepping onto the stage where their seasons would begin.
Time, carried on the rising tension, quietly slipped by.
Ryonan's Locker Room
The locker room smelled faintly of disinfectant and worn sneakers.
Dim yellow lights flickered overhead, and spare gear was stacked in the corner beside a whiteboard scribbled with half-erased tactics.
Aida Hikoichi stood in front of the team, clutching a dog-eared notebook with both hands, his face serious—like a soldier about to deliver a crucial report.
"I've gathered all the player data on Kawanobe," he began, voice steady but low. The room immediately fell silent.
He flipped open the notebook.
"Takigawa Mata, Kawanobe's captain. Point guard, 177 cm, 65 kg."
"Sato Shota, shooting guard, 183 cm, 69 kg."
"Yuta Watanabe, small forward, 185 cm, 71 kg."
"Aoki Kenta, power forward, 181 cm, 68 kg."
"And lastly, Yamamoto Itta—their center. He's the only player over 190 cm, weighs 76 kg, and he's a first-year newcomer this season."
Aida closed the notebook with a soft sigh, as if he'd completed a monumental task.
"That's it?" Koshino raised an eyebrow. "That's all you found?"
Aida hesitated. "Uh… yeah. That's all."
Koshino blinked in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? That's just their height and weight! What about their actual skills?"
Aida's face turned red. He scratched the corner of his notebook awkwardly. "Sorry… time was tight, and Kawanobe's way out on the western edge of Kanagawa. It's a two-hour trip both ways. I only managed to find this much."
Before Koshino could respond, a calm, iron-edged voice cut through the air.
"That doesn't matter."
Everyone turned.
Ake was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes calm. "I won't be playing in this match," he said flatly. "Even if we lose."
"What?!" Uekusa's voice cracked.
The room tensed instantly.
This wasn't a practice game—this was an official match. Losing meant elimination.
Ake's gaze swept across his teammates, sharp as a blade.
"That's right," he said, each word deliberate. "Everything depends on you. If you can't even make it through the preliminaries without me, then you can forget about the national league."
The silence that followed was heavy.
No one could argue.
If they couldn't win this on their own, they didn't deserve to dream of anything more.
Determination replaced fear. One by one, their eyes sharpened. They had to win—beautifully.
Time moved swiftly again.
Soon, a staff member appeared at the door. "It's time."
The Ryonan players rose, pulling off their warm-ups to reveal their white jerseys emblazoned with Ryonan.
Shoelaces tightened. Wristbands adjusted.
Focus.
They lined up, walking toward the court's tunnel.
The Arena
The lights blazed. The air was thick. The stands were nearly full.
A metallic clang echoed—the sound of the Kawanobe team entering first.
Five blue jerseys stepped into view.
A few polite claps followed. Mostly whispers.
Then came another clang.
This time, the crowd erupted.
"They're here—Ryonan!"
"Look, it's Sendoh!"
"Uozumi's huge!"
"Who's that red-haired guy? He looks scary strong!"
"Ryonan! Ryonan! Ryonan!"
"Sendoh! Sendoh! Sendoh!"
The cheers rose like waves, echoing beneath the dome until the entire arena vibrated with energy.
Across the court, the Kawanobe players watched silently.
How could they not feel jealous?
That spotlight, that roar of the crowd—it was what every player dreamed of.
But if they wanted those cheers… they'd have to earn them.
They'd have to beat Ryonan.
At the bench, Ake faced his teammates, voice cutting clean through the noise.
"I'll announce the starting lineup," he said.
Everyone straightened instinctively.
"Center: Uozumi."
"Small Forward: Sendoh."
"Power Forward: Ikegami—you start the first half."
Ikegami nodded sharply. "Got it."
"Fukuda, you'll take the second half."
"Yes, Captain."
"Shooting Guard: Koshino."
"Point Guard: Uekusa."
He didn't wait for feedback. Didn't ask for agreement.
He commanded.
And they followed.
Spectators began whispering again.
"Who's that red-haired one talking to them?"
"He's No. 4. Could that be the new captain?"
"He's a first-year? He looks so composed."
"He's kinda cool, actually."
On the opposite bench, Kawanobe's center, Yamamoto Itta, sneered.
"So that's the new captain? Doesn't look so tough."
Beside him, Yuta Watanabe frowned. "Don't underestimate him. To captain Ryonan, even as a first-year, he's gotta be something."
Their captain, Takigawa Mata, clapped his hands sharply.
"Eyes here," he commanded. "No matter who the opponent is—genius, powerhouse, it doesn't matter. Remember who we are. We are Kawanobe."
"Yes!" they shouted together.
Back on Ryonan's side, Ake gave a final glance toward the court.
"That's all. I've said everything that needed to be said," he murmured.
Then he sat down, arms crossed, perfectly calm—like the coming storm had nothing to do with him.
The seconds ticked away.
Then—
Beep!
The referee's whistle sliced through the air.
The Ryonan vs. Kawanobe match had officially begun.