After dinner, Souta went to the storage room, digging through the clutter to find his lost basketball.
In the kitchen, Haruka washed the dishes, his face clouded with worry as he thought about their dwindling savings.
Sora, meanwhile, came over holding the rabbit doll she'd been clutching earlier—just like she had in the Simulation.
"Souta, what are you looking for?" she asked.
"My basketball. The one I tossed away a while back—I want to find it again."
Sora blinked, startled. Even Haruka froze mid-wash at that.
She leaned closer, pressing her forehead toward his to check if he had a fever.
Souta saw it coming and lightly poked her smooth white forehead to stop her.
"Relax. I'm not sick or possessed."
"I just… suddenly found my motivation again."
"Oh—here it is!"
He pulled out the deflated ball. It had been sitting there for so long it had almost gone flat.
Sora just stared, wide-eyed.
The expression on his face—it was the same as before. No, even more confident.
Curious, she asked, "Did something happen?"
"Nope. Don't overthink it," Souta said, holding the ball as he turned his back to them. "Didn't I say? I just found the drive to keep playing."
Before long, the ball was fully inflated again.
He bounced it a few times; dust scattered into the air.
Sora quickly covered her nose. "You're really gonna use that? It's filthy!"
"It's just some dust. A quick wash will do," Souta said, gripping the ball with both hands. "What you should be worried about is that I left this thing sitting here for so long."
The familiar texture in his palms brought back a rush of emotion.
He'd given up this ball countless times… and picked it back up just as many.
Being able to pick it up again now—what a blessing.
"I'm heading out. Don't wait for me."
He waved casually and walked out the door.
Sora stood there hugging her rabbit doll, watching his back until he disappeared from sight.
"What's wrong, Sora?" Haruka called from the kitchen.
"Nothing." She turned and went back to her room.
A while later, Souta arrived at the familiar streetball court.
The lights were dim—no surprise there. In a rural place like this, no one ever bothered to repair public facilities.
Didn't matter, though.
A broke kid and a rundown court—somehow, the two just fit together, like rain, chocolate, and music.
After a quick warm-up, Souta dove into training.
He needed to get used to the 15-point boost he'd just added to speed.
"Just fifteen points, and it's this big of a difference? Damn, I'm way faster than before."
At 80 speed, both his full sprint and explosiveness felt worlds apart from when it was only 60.
"I wonder how fast Aomine is," Souta muttered.
As the fastest player in the original story, Aomine's speed stat was probably at least 90—maybe even triple digits.
He still had a long way to go.
"That's fine. I've got time."
He closed his eyes and visualized defenders, practicing crossovers and drives in his mind.
That was another perk of his high mental stat—he could train perfectly even without a real opponent.
By ten that night, Souta trudged home drenched in sweat.
The Kasugano house was mostly dark.
He slipped quietly into his room, changed clothes, and stepped into the shower.
His hair was short, so it dried quickly, even after washing.
When he was about to lie down, the door suddenly opened.
Sora walked in wearing a nightgown. Then—without warning—she took it off, leaving only her underwear.
Wh… what?!
Souta froze. Was this kid seriously testing an old veteran like this?
He wasn't exactly a saint!
"Wh-what are you doing?!" he sputtered.
Watching her nightgown fall, his sleepiness vanished instantly.
"I'm going to school," Sora said flatly.
"Huh?"
"I'm going to school."
She repeated it like he'd misheard.
"Then just go! Why are you taking your clothes off in front of me? You're still so young—"
"???"
Sora's foot shot up and stomped on his face—so fast and precise it was like she'd practiced it ten thousand times. Her balance was steadier than Tim Duncan's footwork.
"Idiot Souta! I wanted you to take my measurements for a custom uniform!"
"Oh. You could've led with that. I thought—"
"What did you think?!"
Running into his room at night, stripping down—how else was he supposed to take it?!
Wait a second… wasn't this part of the original story? Wasn't Haruka supposed to be the one doing this for her?
Whatever. Not important.
Souta grabbed a measuring tape and started taking her measurements. Naturally, there was some unavoidable physical contact, which made Sora's face turn bright red.
After a while, he finished.
"All done. I'll get it ordered tomorrow, but the school's pretty slow, so you'll probably have to wait a couple days."
He paused, handing her the nightgown. "By the way, Sora, why the sudden decision to go to school?"
She took it, hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "I wanted to know why you've been so motivated lately."
She almost asked if he had a girlfriend—but couldn't bring herself to say it.
"Oh, that's all? I've always had motivation. Just kept it buried." Souta flopped onto his bed. "Anyway, go to sleep. And shut the door."
"Mm."
She left.
Souta's eyes snapped open the moment the door clicked shut.
He'd noticed it back during the Simulation—something was off.
Now he was sure.
That little devil had definitely been trying to test if he had a girlfriend.
And she was flirting while doing it…
"Wait—things are getting way too complicated here!" he groaned.
Even if she wasn't his blood sister…
Nope. Can't think about that. Too dangerous!
The night passed without incident.
The next morning, Souta and Haruka headed out together.
At the gate, a girl with glasses and an impressive bust was waiting.
Yorihime Nao—Haruka's childhood friend.
Worth noting, in the anime, those two had already been very close as kids.
Watching them exchange flirtatious glances now, Souta couldn't help but think, Man, Japanese people sure know how to have fun.
Were you even fully developed yet when you pulled that off?
No wonder the anime eventually got banned—denying hardcore fans the chance to revisit a classic.