Kanagawa Prefectural Gymnasium.
The square outside the gym was already overflowing with people.
Students, alumni, basketball fans, reporters—an endless stream poured toward the entrance. Today was not an ordinary match day.
Today marked the opening of the Final Four.
The 4-to-2 semifinals.
Kainan.
Shoyo.
Shohoku.
Ryonan.
Four names that represented the ceiling of Kanagawa basketball.
From this moment on, every win and loss directly determined who would stand on the championship stage.
Calling the level of attention "unprecedented" was no exaggeration.
Match Schedule
Morning
First Match: Kainan VS Shoyo
Afternoon
Second Match: Ryonan VS Shohoku
Each game was a focal point.
On one side stood King Kainan, the long-standing ruler of Kanagawa, facing Shoyo, the perennial second place hungry to overthrow the throne.
On the other side, Ryonan, surging upward with terrifying momentum, would clash with Shohoku, this year's greatest dark horse.
Ambition versus tradition.
Rising waves versus unshakable walls.
The stands were already packed to capacity.
Noise, anticipation, and tension intertwined beneath the dome.
Cameras were set up early, lenses trained on the player tunnels, afraid to miss even a single frame.
Coaches from various schools took their seats with solemn expressions, eyes sweeping the court again and again.
Today was a day worth studying.
Ryonan Arrives
A ripple spread through the crowd.
At the entrance of the player tunnel, Akashi Seijuro stepped into view, leading the Ryonan squad.
In an instant, countless gazes converged.
"That's Ryonan."
"The red-haired one… that's Akashi Seijuro."
"So that's him?"
"Is he really as strong as the rumors say?"
"And Sendo and Uozumi are right behind him…"
Voices overlapped—admiration, curiosity, speculation.
Akashi paid none of it any attention.
His eyes passed through the crowd, landing directly on the court ahead.
As if everything else was irrelevant.
The Ryonan players followed behind him, expressions composed.
Pride stirred quietly in their chests, but none showed it openly.
Akashi led them through the aisle and into their designated rest area, sitting down calmly.
Across the stands, Shohoku had arrived as well.
Kogure pushed his glasses up, eyes sharpening.
"Ryonan's here."
Ayako crossed her arms.
"Of course they are. It's the Final Four."
Mitsui's gaze locked onto Akashi.
The red-haired captain sat lazily, chin propped on one hand, posture relaxed—as if he were merely watching a casual match.
"Just looking at him annoys me," Miyagi muttered.
Sakuragi clenched his fists.
The memories came flooding back—
Being toyed with by Sendo.
Being crushed by Uozumi under the basket.
Having his dunk anticipated and blocked by Akashi.
And worst of all—
Those calm expressions at the end of the practice match.
Like thorns.
Rukawa Kaede said nothing.
His eyes briefly found Akashi, lingered for only a few seconds… then shifted away.
There was no point staring now.
Bang—!
The heavy iron doors at both ends of the court swung open.
The noise in the gym dropped instantly.
From the tunnels emerged—
Kainan, clad in white.
Shoyo, clad in green.
The response was explosive.
"KAINAN—! KAINAN—!"
"SHOYO—! SHOYO—!"
Cheers collided like crashing waves, shaking the air itself.
Banners waved.
Cheer sticks beat in rhythm.
The dome trembled.
Aida Hikoichi stared in awe.
"So many cheerleaders…"
Koshino snorted.
"Normal. These two always go all out."
Ikegami's gaze fixed on the court.
"This match always comes down to Maki and Fujima."
Uekusa nodded.
"Kainan always wins… but this is Fujima's last year."
Koshino sighed.
"This is his final chance."
Coach Taoka watched silently, eyes moving between Shinichi Maki and Fujima Kenji.
This match is decided by them.
Sendo suddenly leaned over, smiling lazily.
"So—who do you think wins?"
Akashi answered without hesitation.
"Fujima is no match for Shinichi Maki."
His eyes scanned the court like a cold radar.
Explosiveness.
Stamina.
Physical ceiling.
Maki surpassed Fujima in every measurable aspect.
Sendo blinked.
"…But?"
Akashi continued calmly,
"Shoyo still has a chance."
Sendo's interest ignited.
"Oh?"
"The probability is low," Akashi said flatly.
"It depends on how long Fujima can hold out against Maki."
To Akashi, the other players on both teams were nearly equal.
The true battle lay at the top.
Warm-ups ended.
The players took their positions.
The atmosphere tightened like a drawn bowstring.
Beep—!
The whistle sliced through the noise.
The ball was tossed skyward, catching the lights for a split second—
And the clash began.
Kainan VS Shoyo.
Final Four — First Match.