"But… even if Shogo gave it his all, we still couldn't win!"
Midorima Shintaro guarded Haizaki Shogo perfectly, while Kise Ryouta drained a three-pointer, overtaking the score and widening the gap.
Taking the ball passed by Fukuda Sasaki, Haizaki Shogo didn't care about the growing deficit. If Teiko Junior High still couldn't stop Fukuda in the fourth quarter and had no way to secure a win, that would have been strange.
From Kise Ryouta's frequent three-pointers, Teiko's strategy was clear: use long-range shots to widen the score and seal the victory.
But now, the shooter wasn't the one Haizaki was guarding—Midorima—but Kise Ryouta instead.
If Haizaki returned to guard Kise, Midorima would be unleashed. Teiko was deliberately presenting Shogo with a challenge.
Since Teiko couldn't stop Haizaki from scoring, their only option was to pile up points, using the score difference to determine the outcome. This was Shirogane Kozo's style: victory above all.
And it worked. Fukuda's score kept slipping away point by point. Fukuda Sogo's hope of winning was extinguished.
From the moment Kise started hitting three-pointers, Fukuda's chance at victory was completely crushed.
"BEEP!"
The buzzer sounded.
The game ended: Fukuda Sogo 78, Teiko Junior High 86.
Panting heavily, Haizaki Shogo looked at his teammates supporting themselves on their knees, shaking his head—partially unsatisfied.
Indeed, the game left him wanting more. But a game is a game. Losing is losing.
He, Haizaki Shogo, could accept that!
After the game, both teams lined up, bowing to each other before shaking hands and exchanging words of goodwill.
In front of Shogo stood Midorima, glasses glinting. He extended a large hand with a hint of regret.
"Somewhat regrettable, but congratulations—your third consecutive championship!"
"Yeah, somewhat regrettable," Midorima adjusted his glasses and spoke, leaving Shogo wondering: what did he mean by "somewhat regrettable"?
Was it because Shogo had left Teiko? Or that neither of them had gone all out?
Shaking his head, Shogo moved on, approaching Murasakibara Atsushi.
"Atsushi, let's have another match next time. This one wasn't satisfying enough."
"Next time? Next time I'll crush you, Haizaki!"
"Haha! I'm looking forward to it!"
Next came the small figure of Kuroko Tetsuya. Looking at the slightly awkward Kuroko, Shogo extended his right hand.
"Kuroko, how did it feel being sealed?"
"Haizaki, did that person truly give up everything?"
Shogo paused, then nodded silently. Of course, he knew Kuroko meant Fukuda Sasaki, the team captain of Fukuda Sogo.
Kuroko and Sasaki were similar types of players, but Kuroko's abilities were more unique, more obvious, and more effective—so more formidable.
Sasaki, on the other hand, could only fully suppress Kuroko. Beyond that, he had no other use.
"You're very similar. But in the end, you won. Congratulations!"
Ignoring Kuroko, who wanted to say more, Shogo moved on to Kise Ryouta.
After a brief pause, Shogo extended his hand to shake.
"Kise, although I hate admitting it, your growth in such a short time is remarkable. Your talent is undeniable."
"Really?"
"Isn't it?"
"Thank you for the compliment!"
After a brief, awkward chat, Shogo walked back to Fukuda Sogo's rest area.
He took the towel offered by Shimizu Rena, wiped his sweat silently.
Having just finished the game, not only had they lost, but he also had to smile politely at former teammates and offer words of goodwill.
For someone like Shogo, who valued pride, this was difficult.
Neither the old Shogo nor the current Shogo liked this feeling.
On the bus back to school, silence filled the vehicle. The atmosphere was heavy, almost defeated. A pack of disheartened players.
At that moment, a deep, resonant voice spoke—it was Coach Ichiro Kudo.
"From now on, you can relax. Our schedule is done, but daily training continues as usual.
Losing today isn't the end. You'll go to high school, college, and find opportunities again.
Today, we held our ground against Teiko Junior High. We should be proud. Keep working, and your future will be brighter.
Honestly, this is Fukuda Sogo's proudest moment yet. Unlike the last two years, we aren't collapsing into despair. Our fighting spirit remains, our passion is still alive. We should be happy."
Coach Kudo's words, though calm, energized some players and made others reflect.
This game was a baptism for Fukuda Sogo. Some rose from the ashes, some quietly stepped away, and some rookies hit their limit and gave up basketball.
After leaving the bus, Haizaki Shogo walked side by side with Shimizu Rena.
"Shogo-kun, you don't need to—"
"No need to comfort me, Shimizu-chan. I'm not discouraged, nor disappointed."
"Then why do you seem so down?"
"Ah! Shimizu-chan, you know, only the three of the Generation of Miracles appeared today. You didn't see Aomine Daiki, and the captain Akashi Seijuro didn't show up either."
"So, Shogo-kun, you're down because they weren't here?"
"Yeah! The two strongest weren't here. But that's okay—there's hope for the future."
"Shogo-kun, that #15 from Teiko… seems strange."
"The blue-haired short guy?"
"Yes, him."
For once, Shogo ruffled Shimizu's hair without any mischief, looking at a plane flying overhead:
"Shimizu-chan, you'll understand later. I'll save the story about Little Kuroko as a surprise for you—an Easter egg."
Shimizu blushed, staring at this extraordinary Shogo. She felt an inexplicable charm radiating from him.
Boy and girl walked shoulder to shoulder toward the next train station, under blue skies and white clouds, a bird gliding past.
A beautiful scene. It marked the end of Haizaki Shogo's middle school basketball league. Though the results weren't perfect, there were no regrets. He witnessed Teiko Junior High's third consecutive championship firsthand.
It seemed as if fate itself dictated it. Even a freshman Shogo couldn't stop the era of Teiko—the Generation of Miracles.
At Teiko, in a classroom:
Akashi Seijuro played a solo game of shogi, controlling both sides. He picked up the king piece, ending the match.
Elsewhere, on an unnamed rooftop:
Aomine Daiki, eyes closed, feeling the wind and sun, slowly opened his eyes and murmured:
"Haizaki shouldn't have lost so badly."
Indeed. Haizaki Shogo's loss was not disgraceful.
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