On the way to school, Haruka and Nao chatted and laughed. Souta chimed in now and then.
Nao had that big-sister vibe—warm, attentive, caring.
The problem was, Souta's real age was over thirty. Nearly forty.
Sure, he'd been stuck in a kid's body, surrounded by teenagers, but his life experience was still in the twenties-level range.
A little girl trying to act like a mature woman? Yeah, no thanks. She probably just wanted to marry Haruka already.
"So early in the game, huh?" he muttered.
"What'd you say, Souta?"
"Nothing. Anyway, I'll head off here. See you, Haruka."
He waved and left, unable to stand watching those two childhood sweethearts any longer.
Souta spent most of the day napping.
When the final bell rang, he stretched, yawned, and walked toward the Basketball Club.
He was early—only the old coach was there.
"Ota, you're here early today," the coach said without looking up.
Ota was the club captain, a third-year center, and one of Tochigi Prefecture's Four Great Centers.
Sure, that title didn't mean much on the national stage, but at least it put him on the map.
After a while, when no reply came, the coach finally looked up—only to see someone he hadn't laid eyes on in a year.
"Souta?!"
"Long time no see, Coach."
"You—you came back? Don't tell me…"
Kasugano Souta threw in an English line with a Jordan-like swagger. "I'm back. I'm planning to start playing again. Do I need to reapply to join the Basketball Club?"
"What are you talking about? You never left in my book."
Of course not.
There were only two real pillars of the team, and the coach had never officially approved Souta's departure. Over the past year, he'd tried more than once to persuade Souta to come back.
"Good. My locker's still the same one, right?"
"Of course. No one's ever touched it. Everyone believed you'd come back someday."
Tch.
People who watched too much anime all talked like they'd walked straight out of a script.
Souta rolled his eyes inwardly, exchanged a few polite words, and headed to the locker room to change.
Not long after, the doors to the Basketball Club started opening one after another.
As the members filed in, each of them froze mid-step—then rubbed their eyes like they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
Was that really…?
The guy who'd announced his retirement right after last year's National Tournament—Kasugano Souta—was back?!
And not only that, he was already in his training gear, practicing before anyone else had even arrived.
"Souta? You're back?"
"Long time no see, Ota."
Souta's return sent a jolt of energy through the whole club.
He'd been one of their core players—one of the reasons Hozumi Academy had made it to the National Tournament last year.
Now that he was back, everyone's confidence skyrocketed. The next tournament suddenly didn't seem so far out of reach.
Still, there was one concern. Souta had been off the court for a while—no one knew how much of his form he'd managed to recover.
Sensing their hesitation, Souta grinned. "Then let's find out with a match."
"But are you sure your body's ready?"
Coming back wasn't something that happened overnight.
Even someone like Jordan had struggled when he first returned.
Back in 1995, when Jordan announced his comeback, he'd kept it short and iconic—I'm back!
He didn't even wear his old number 23, opting for 45 instead, because he knew he wasn't the same yet.
That season, he played only seventeen regular-season games—and got knocked out early in the playoffs.
But then he trained like a man possessed that summer, came back stronger than ever, and built his second dynasty, earning the title of GOAT.
So yeah, it made sense that both the coach and the players were skeptical of Souta's condition.
"Don't worry about me," Souta said with that familiar spark in his eyes. "Life doesn't have rehearsals—every second's live. So bring it on."
He was brimming with confidence.
The arrogant, fearless pressure monster was really back.
The twenty-minute scrimmage started soon after.
Coach Oten wanted to see how much of Souta's skills had held up, so he had him lead the bench squad against the starters.
Souta didn't mind. He turned and pointed straight at a mushroom-haired player in the group.
"Give me that mushroom head."
"You sure about that? You know how he plays, right?"
Of course, the coach knew Sakurai Ryo.
The kid was a transfer student with great shooting mechanics—on paper, at least.
The problem was his shot selection. He'd fire without even aiming half the time—completely reckless.
In real games, there wasn't room for that kind of waste.
The coach knew it well. Before joining Hozumi Academy, he'd been a pro player himself—even if only a benchwarmer.
And precisely because he'd been a benchwarmer, he understood how rare chances were. No coach would ever tolerate a sub squandering possessions.
On top of that, Ryo's demeanor screamed "soft." Always timid, hesitant—a pushover if there ever was one.
Souta, on the other hand, came back and immediately started calling shots like a team captain, acting like even the coach was beneath him. Arrogant, commanding… the kind of presence every real ace had.
Now that's a basketball player.
"His haircut says he knows what he's doing. He'll be fine—leave him to me."
"Alright then. Let's see how you do with him. Ryo, you're on Souta's team."
Ryo hesitated but obeyed, walking over nervously.
"Souta… uh, senpai…"
"You're good at shooting threes, right?"
"I-I guess so."
"Good. What's your sweet spot?"
"Sweet spot" was simple enough—it meant the area where a player hit the most shots, their highest-percentage range.
Ryo swallowed hard. "Around the forty-five-degree angle on either side of the three-point line."
"Perfect. When we're on offense, park yourself there. The moment my pass reaches you, shoot. No hesitation. Got it?"
"I… I can do that!"
Ryo's eyes lit up. He'd been dying to prove himself.
Ever since Hozumi Academy's unprecedented run to the National Tournament last year, Coach Oten had put his full faith in the starting lineup.
After a year together, they'd grown tighter and stronger—there was no reason to change the roster lightly.
So it wasn't just Ryo who wanted to prove himself. The coach wanted to prove his worth too.
He was sick of his wife sneering at him during arguments—"You think you're someone special? You're just a useless, balding middle-school basketball coach who can't even win!"
This year, he was determined to shut her up for good.
He'd take Hozumi Academy to the National Tournament again—twice in a row, maybe even three times.
Tochigi Prefecture's true king?
Yeah. He wanted that title.