Shohoku High School Basketball Club
At this moment, the entire Shohoku Basketball Club was squeezed into their small, stuffy clubroom.
The paint on the walls had long since yellowed, the fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat and worn-out sneakers.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the crookedly pasted tournament schedule hanging on the wall.
"Mokichi High School… Nanbara High School…"
Kogure Kiminobu pushed up his glasses, his voice uncertain. "I've never even heard of these schools."
Tetsushi Shiozaki, however, spoke with urgency. "Forget those obscure schools for now. The real problem is that Takezato's in our group."
He jabbed his finger at the schedule. "They're one of the top four in the prefecture — same level as Ryonan."
The memory of their practice match against Ryonan still haunted him. None of the top four could be underestimated.
At the front of the room, Takenori Akagi stood with his brows tightly furrowed, his gaze locked on the two characters for "Takezato." His fists clenched unconsciously at his sides.
Kakuta Satoru scratched his head, forcing a smile as he tried to ease the tension. "Hey, don't stress so much. It's a round-robin — two teams advance from each group. Even if we lose to Takezato, as long as we beat Mokichi and Nanbara, we still have a shot."
But Sakuragi Hanamichi looked annoyed. "What's Takezato? We'll just beat them! Why make it sound so complicated?"
Before anyone could respond, Akagi turned his head slowly, his deep voice echoing in the small room.
"He's right. As long as we give everything we've got and defeat every opponent, the spot will be ours."
Ayako glanced down at the papers in her hands, flipping through them before looking up.
"There are only two venues this round. Group A's Kainan and Group C's Ryonan play first. Groups B and D go after. Should we go watch their games?"
Kogure adjusted his glasses. "No point watching Kainan's match — everyone knows they'll win. If we're going to watch one, it should be Ryonan's. Their opponent's at least one of last year's top eight."
Silence fell for a moment. Even the faint hum of the fan became audible.
In everyone's mind, the same image appeared — that crimson figure.
Red hair. Heterochromatic eyes.
That overwhelming aura he radiated when he stood on the court.
Akagi finally spoke, breaking the stillness. "Let's go watch."
Ryonan's reputation this year was simply too strong to ignore.
And besides…
His eyes fell on the schedule again.
A team that made last year's top eight might just be strong enough to draw out Ryonan's hidden cards.
Shoyo High School Basketball Club
Sunlight slanted through the windows, scattering gold across the polished floor. Dust floated in the warm glow like fine mist.
Fujima Kenji sat quietly by the window, holding the freshly distributed schedule in his hand. The edges were already creased from his fingers.
"First match… Kasuga Daiichi?"
He said it flatly, as though reading the weather, his expression unreadable.
Hanagata Toru stood beside him, arms crossed. "Never heard of them. First time in the Sweet Sixteen. There's barely any info on them — probably just lucky. Strength-wise…"
He smirked. "They're no threat to us."
Fujima slowly lowered the paper and met Hanagata's eyes, his voice calm but firm. "This year is different. There are too many unknowns."
He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Sometimes, you can spot the champion from the start. But a dark horse… by the time you notice it, it's already stepped over you."
Hanagata hesitated. At Shoyo, Fujima's words were law.
Moments later, Fujima stood and stretched. "We don't have a match tomorrow. No use sitting around."
He turned to Hanagata. "Want to go watch some games?"
Hanagata blinked. "You mean… Kainan's game?"
Fujima shook his head. "No." His voice lowered, calm but with a faint edge. "Ryonan's."
"Ryonan, huh…" Hanagata murmured, brows furrowing slightly before he fell silent.
The Next Day — The Sweet Sixteen Begins
That day, two games drew all the attention:
Ryonan vs. Miuradai.
Kainan University-Affiliated High vs. Sarashina High.
By this stage, the tournament no longer felt like an ordinary inter-school event.
Reporters gathered. Fans poured in from every direction. Even outside the usually quiet gymnasium, the buzz of vendors and students' cheers filled the air.
Before the matches began, crowds already packed the venues, a wave of energy and anticipation spreading through the streets.
And of the two matches, Ryonan vs. Miuradai was clearly the hotter ticket.
Inside the arena, the stands were nearly full.
Few cared about Kainan's game.
Sarashina High? Hardly a name anyone knew.
Their record showed they'd only made it this far through narrow wins — no upsets, no surprises. Against last year's champions, the result was already decided.
But Ryonan vs. Miuradai was different.
Both were seasoned powerhouses. Ryonan was last year's top four; Miuradai had hovered around the top eight for years.
It wasn't just a matchup — it was a clash of pride and reputation.
The air was thick with tension even before tipoff.
Inside the Arena
Bright lights shone on the polished wooden court.
Up on the second-floor corridor, a man and woman hurried along.
The woman wore a sharp business suit and large hoop earrings that swayed as she walked. Her eyes gleamed with intelligence — Aida Yayoi, reporter for Basketball Weekly.
Beside her was a young man in a crisp shirt and glasses, his round face full of earnest seriousness — Nakamura Taizo, a new assistant at the magazine.
Aida checked her watch. "Good. We're not late. The game hasn't started yet."
Nakamura adjusted his glasses, curiosity getting the better of him. "Um, Aida-senpai… why aren't we covering Kainan's game? They're the champions — wouldn't that be the bigger story?"
Aida shot him a sidelong glance and sighed. "Exactly because they're the champions, that's why we're here."
She looked toward the empty court below. "A champion facing an unknown team? The outcome's obvious. There's nothing worth reporting there."
Her lips curved slightly. "But a top-four team going against a top-eight? That's where the real story is."
What she didn't say aloud — she was also a Sendoh fan.
"I see!" Nakamura's eyes lit up. "As expected of you, Aida-senpai. I've got a lot to learn."
Then he asked, "So… who do you think will win?"
Aida tilted her head, about to answer —
Bang! Bang!
The double doors swung open with a thunderous echo, silencing the chatter in the stands.
Every gaze turned toward the player tunnels.
From Miuradai's side came faint, echoing voices.
"Five straight 100-point wins… nothing impressive."
"Our only real opponent is Kainan."
"This year, we'll get our revenge for last time."
"Ryonan? Hmph…"
The murmurs faded, replaced by the sound of heavy footsteps.
Miuradai's players emerged — stern-faced, their formation steady.
At the front stood their captain, Kengo Murasame.
"Look, that's Miuradai!"
"They look fired up."
"Who's that bald guy? Must be their center — he's huge!"
"This year's Miuradai feels different."
And then —
From the opposite tunnel came a ripple of noise.
Ryonan's players walked out, their footsteps calm and steady.
The first figure to appear wore a white warm-up jacket, crimson hair gleaming under the lights, and eyes of two different colors that seemed to pierce straight through the air.
Ake Ryu.
The moment he stepped onto the court, the atmosphere shifted.
It was as if an invisible wave of pressure rippled outward. The crowd fell silent — even the air itself seemed to pause.
Then came Uozumi — tall, broad-shouldered, his presence like a wall of steel — and behind him, Sendoh, hands casually in his pockets, that easy smile playing on his lips.
As soon as the last Ryonan player stepped out, the arena erupted.
Cheers, screams, whistles — a thunderous roar that shook the ceiling.
"Ryonan's here!"
"Who's that red-haired guy? He looks incredible!"
"That must be the rumored first-year captain!"
"Sendoh! Over here!"
"That tall one must be Uozumi!"
The stands were a sea of waving arms and flashing cameras. The noise was deafening, the air electric.
Both teams faced each other across the court — Miuradai with smirks and narrowed eyes full of disdain, Ryonan calm and silent, their gazes sharp but controlled.
No words. No taunts.
Just quiet confidence.
The tension was thick enough to feel in the air.
Everyone knew — from this point on, words meant nothing.
Everything would be decided on the court.