Neon lights.
Tokyo.
Teiko Middle School.
On a spring morning with cherry blossoms drifting lazily through the air, Hanyu Sota nearly overslept and missed his first day of school.
He scrambled into his clothes, grabbed a piece of bread, and bolted out the door.
As a twelve-year-old transmigrator, Hanyu Sota had a very simple reason for choosing Teiko.
Because this school's basketball team was a true monster among monsters—
their national championship trophies were practically sold in bulk.
As for his family, his father held a high-ranking position in the Metropolitan Police Department, while his mother was an iron-faced, no-nonsense judge at the courthouse.
Both parents were constantly busy, rarely home.
As a result, Sota spent most of his time living alone—free, but also a little lonely.
When he skidded to a stop at the school gate, panting, the scene before him was even more terrifying than the morning rush on the subway.
Upperclassmen from every club had green light in their eyes, like a pack of starving wolves hunting the "newbie" rabbits.
Flyers were slapped onto faces like falling snow.
Recruitment shouts overlapped one another.
The chaos was completely out of control.
"Hey! You there, real man! The romance of a Japanese guy is baseball! Come sweat with us!"
"Don't listen to those smelly guys—come to the swim club instead! We've got tons of beautiful senpai in swimsuits!"
Hanyu Sota felt like he was trapped inside an industrial press.
It took the strength of nine oxen and two tigers just to squeeze his way out of the wall of flesh.
Along the way, his naturally snow-white hair drew constant stares.
People kept turning their heads back, whispering in amazement.
While politely asking for directions to the faculty office, he casually handed over the basketball club application form he had prepared in advance.
At last, he found the door marked "Class 1-A."
He pushed it open and walked in.
Taking the "protagonist seat" by the window in the back row, he rested his chin on one hand and gazed at the drifting cherry blossoms outside.
But his thoughts had already flown to the basketball court.
I wonder if this year's team is hiding a few exciting great white sharks…
His eyes flickered with a trace of burning anticipation.
Before long, the classroom door opened again.
A middle-aged male teacher with a receding hairline and a kind smile walked in.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm Hata, and I'll be your homeroom teacher for the next three years of middle school. I hope we can get along well."
"Hiiii—"
The entire class dragged out their reply.
Teacher Hata nodded in satisfaction, the lights gleaming off his smooth forehead.
"Alright, to help you all get familiar with one another, let's start self-introductions from the far-right row."
Thus began the slightly awkward, slightly stiff round of introductions—students standing up one by one, then sitting back down.
"I'm…"
"My name is…"
Until a single voice cut through the monotonous rhythm.
"My name is Akashi Seijūrō. My hobbies are basketball and shogi. Please take care of me."
Hanyu Sota heard those two keywords and instinctively turned his head.
His gaze landed on the boy who had just spoken.
Brilliant crimson hair.
A calm, composed aura that didn't match his age at all—but…
Sota silently compared their heights.
Isn't this guy… a little too small?
Could that body really survive on a court full of giants?
After a long wait, it was finally Sota's turn.
He stood up, adjusted his collar, and said simply,
"My name is Hanyu Sota. I like basketball. Um… that's about it."
He wracked his brain for more words, but his mind had clearly gone on strike.
"Waaah—!"
The moment he finished, a synchronized squeal erupted from the girls.
In their eyes, it was as if pink heart-shaped bubbles were bursting into the air.
There was no helping it—Sota's face was simply too unfair.
He looked like a delicate figurine straight out of a shōjo manga.
"So handsome! He's like a god!"
"Hey, hey, Hanyu-kun isn't wearing a ring—he must be single, right? If I go line up now, will I still get a number?"
"..."
Sota's mouth twitched.
We just started middle school… isn't your thinking a little too advanced?!
Compared to the girls' enthusiasm, the boys' resentment had nearly condensed into visible black smoke.
Damn it!
Why would the heavens throw such a handsome guy into our class where mating rights are already a battlefield?!
This bastard should be exiled to another class!
Teacher Hata watched everything with a gentle smile, clearly used to youthful turbulence.
He then announced the end of introductions and began assigning seats.
Instantly, the podium was surrounded by girls, all gazing at him like they were praying to a god, hoping to be placed next to Sota's "treasure seat."
Teacher Hata merely rubbed his shiny head, smiling, unmoved.
In the end, fate did not favor the lovestruck maidens.
The one seated next to Sota was an ordinary-looking boy.
And Sota remained firmly on his window-side throne.
...
Morning classes began.
First period: self-study.
Second: Japanese.
Then came the soul-crushing mathematics class.
It wasn't false modesty—Sota felt a physiological rejection toward abstract symbols.
His math grades were truly tragic.
But don't be sad, Sensei. My other subjects aren't any better. If classes were divided by grades, I'd probably be studying in the basement.
Bored, he looked out the window, then back at his desk mate.
That guy was nodding like a pecking chicken—every sentence from the teacher was met with a heavy nod, as if performing some sacred ritual.
Sota felt genuine respect.
Is this guy a hidden genius? He actually understands this heavenly script?
But the truth was—his desk mate's brain was complete mush.
He simply understood the law of survival:
Always act like you understand, so the teacher won't call on you.
This was actually very common in class.
Most students were lost, but nodded along to avoid standing out.
Finally, the dismissal bell rang like heavenly music.
School was over.
"Ahh… I survived. I feel like my body's been hollowed out."
Sota stretched hard, his joints cracking loudly.
"Hey, Hanyu-kun, wanna walk home together?"
"Wah, that's cheating—cutting in line!"
"Me too! Hanyu-kun, let's go the same way!"
The girls once again swarmed him like a zombie apocalypse.
They had even staged a full palace-drama-level battle at lunch, fighting over who could eat with him.
Sota helplessly held his forehead.
This cursed, nowhere-to-put charm…
As for the boys, if their jealous glares could shoot fire, Sota would already be ashes.
If you've got a problem, come at me!
Let go of Hanyu—let me handle it!
With a perfectly apologetic smile, Sota said,
"Sorry, everyone. I've got something very important to take care of later."
Then, like a slippery loach, he slipped out of the crowd, leaving a group of girls frozen in the wind.
...
Teiko's basketball club, the school's golden signboard, occupied the three most luxurious gymnasiums on campus.
Outside the second gym, new students lined up in a dragon-like queue that seemed endless.
Standing at the very back, Sota stared at the sea of heads and complained internally:
Is this line going to last until the Year of the Monkey? Did you all use Flying Thunder God to get here?!
Just then, a shadow fell behind him—another person joined the line.
The guy's skin was so dark it looked like he'd just returned from Hawaii, topped with unruly blue hair.
And beside him stood a cute girl with long pink hair.
So this is what they call a "normie"? First year and already bringing his girlfriend to club sign-ups?
And seriously… this guy's tan is really something.
"Hey, bro, you here for the entrance tryout too?" the dark tall boy asked.
"..."
Sota was speechless.
I'm standing here—what else would I be doing? Buying milk tea?
The pink-haired girl sighed.
"Daiki, are you an idiot? Isn't it obvious?"
Ignoring his childhood friend's sarcasm, the boy grinned.
"I'm Aomine Daiki. What's your name?"
"Hanyu Sota."
"Looking at you, you must love basketball! Anyone who loves basketball is a good person!"
"..."
Sota felt this guy's brain circuitry was… unique.
Almost adorably stupid.
Aomine continued, eyes shining.
"Wanna play one-on-one later?"
"No!" Sota replied instantly.
"Eh? Why not?"
Because I don't want to duel a basketball-obsessed weirdo.
Of course, he only dared to think that.
Throughout the long wait, Aomine chattered nonstop.
His beast-like intuition told him—this white-haired boy was strong.
His battle instinct was already roaring.
...
"All new students, assemble immediately!"
"Tweet!"
A sharp whistle pierced the air.
The chatting students instantly fell silent and hurried into formation.
At the front stood a middle-aged man in a dark suit.
He pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, holding a roster, looking like he was interrogating criminals.
"Since everyone's here, I'll keep it short."
His sharp gaze swept over their young faces.
"At Teiko, only the First Team gets to wear the official jersey. Your only goal is to climb into that team."
"This tryout isn't just a test—it's a ranking battle. If you perform well enough, you might even be promoted directly to the First Team."
"Until then—give it everything you've got!"
The crowd instantly exploded into whispers.
"Direct to First Team?! Yeah! I'm fired up!"
"Don't dream. Since Teiko's founding, no freshman has ever skipped straight to First Team. Aim for Second Team!"
"If you don't have dreams, you're no different from a salted fish!"
"That's not pessimism—it's reality. Second Team is already most people's ceiling!"
Amid the noise, Sota's focus drifted elsewhere.
He glanced around and realized the people near him had red, purple, blue, and green hair.
With his own white hair, they could form a rainbow squad.
Unable to resist, he asked,
"Um… are your hair colors dyed? The saturation's kind of unreal."
Aomine laughed. "Nope. Natural."
Akashi replied calmly, "Mine too."
The green-haired boy, Midorima Shintarō, snorted in displeasure.
"Hmph. Yours isn't exactly normal either."
As for the purple-haired giant, Murasakibara Atsushi, he merely glanced at Sota lazily.
He was absurdly tall—like a hormone-fed monster baby—especially standing next to Akashi.
The contrast was brutal.
"Enough talk. Testing begins!"
With the coach's command, the freshmen were split into groups and sent to different half-courts.
First round: physical tests—vertical reach, shuttle sprints, and ball-handling.
The examiners were bored… until Sota stepped up.
"So fast!"
"That dribble speed is faster than me without the ball!"
"Who is this guy?!"
Even the stoic examiner widened his eyes.
He double-checked the numbers.
Even last year's strongest rookie, Nijimura Shuzo, hadn't reached such terrifying stats.
Then came the main event—real combat.
Sota's group had to face current Second Team members in one-on-one matches.
When it was Sota's turn, he stood still with the ball.
The Second Team player frowned.
"Hey, junior. Why aren't you attacking?"
"Senpai, are you one of the best in Second Team?" Sota asked.
"Of course. I'm an ace there."
"Then I'm relieved," Sota said softly.
"I have no interest in bullying the weak."
The man laughed in anger.
"In Teiko, trash talk means nothing. Only strength matters."
"Then, Senpai… please prepare yourself."
The moment he started dribbling, his aura changed—
from a lazy cat into a hunting leopard.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Then—he vanished.
By the time the defender turned, Sota had already finished a smooth layup.
Silence.
A monster…
The Second Team player felt cold sweat soak his jersey.
In that instant, he had seen—
not a boy.
But a beast.