Inside the basketball gym of Tōō Academy
"To be honest, since it's still the off-season, I haven't gathered much intel on Kaijō. The footage from last year's Nationals is all we've got to go on."
Momoi spoke seriously while reading the report in her hands—data she had compiled on the Kaijō players. Aside from Aomine, who was crouched in a corner "studying" a photo book of dubious athletic value, the rest of the team listened intently. After all, Kaijō was a top-tier school. Even though Tōō had strengthened significantly this year, especially with Aomine's arrival, Kaijō's legacy still made them a serious threat.
"Kasamatsu Yukio — Kaijō's point guard. Fast, with excellent shooting."
"Kojiro Hyuga — uh, no wait, wrong file — oh, here it is. Kōji Kobori, Kaijō's center. Strong physique, great performance in last year's Nationals."
…
"Kise Ryota, Kaijō's ace, and a former member of the Generation of Miracles. He's their small forward… Hey, Aomine! Are you even listening?"
Momoi sighed, rubbing her forehead. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if Aomine had only shown up because their opponent was Kise.
Unbothered, Aomine scratched his back and replied lazily,
"I'm listening, jeez. Meetings are a drag. Doesn't matter though—I'll crush them all anyway."
Before Momoi could scold him, Wakamatsu—who never saw eye to eye with Aomine—snapped,
"You jerk! At least pretend to listen to the manager, damn it!"
Aomine turned, glanced at him, then casually stood up, picked up a basketball, took a running start… and slammed a dunk so hard that the rim snapped clean off.
He looked down at the bent hoop, feigning regret.
"Oops. Guess I went a little overboard" Then he smirked at Wakamatsu. "Like I said, talk to me when you've earned the right."
.....
"Still, Tōō isn't exactly famous, but it's not tiny either" Kasamatsu said, confused.
"I'd never even heard of the school before."
"I thought all the Generation of Miracles went to big-name schools. Why are Kuroko and Aomine at some low-tier place?"
Kota furrowed his brow.
Kise shrugged. "Aomine's always believed in individual power. He picked a fameless school on purpose—to prove he doesn't need a team."
Kasamatsu grimaced. "Sounds like a headache to deal with. Are all of you Miracle kids that eccentric?"
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Kise protested. "I used to think I could do everything solo too, but I'm different now!"
Kota nodded. "Yeah, Aomine's really something else. Every time I see his smug face, I feel like flipping a table. Compared to him, even Kise feels like an angel."
Kise twitched. "…Not sure if that was a compliment or a drive-by insult."
Just then, a tall middle-aged man approached.
"Nice to meet you all. I'm Harasawa, the coach of Tōō Academy's basketball team."
Takeuchi stepped forward to shake hands. Internally, he sighed in relief. Finally, a normal coach. Seirin had a teenage girl pretending to be one—what a circus.
"Whoa, their coach is much younger"
"Totally! He looks way younger than ours."
Takeuchi overheard his players whispering and shot them a death glare. If we lose this game, they're running fifty laps.
Sensing their doom, Kaijō's players instantly went quiet.
Kise muttered, "Welp… add another reason we can't lose today."
"Come on in, everyone" Harasawa said politely. "I'll call the players over and have someone show you to the locker room."
As he spoke, his gaze landed on the corner where the hoop had been broken. He blinked, surprised.
Momoi leaned in and whispered an explanation. The coach didn't react — just nodded. But Takeuchi's face darkened. That hoop reminded him of… unpleasant memories.
Kota then spotted Aomine lounging with his photo book and smirked. He walked over and called out, "Honestly, with that attitude last time, I figured you'd only bother showing up for the second half, Mr. Aomine."
Aomine glanced up, grinned. "Oh look, it's Kise's number-one fan. Thought I was rude last time? I was just being honest."
Kota laughed mockingly. "Since you're so sure teams are pointless, I figured I'd ask the expert: how should we play basketball, then? Teach me, Mr. Aomine."
That sarcasm lit Aomine's fuse. He stood up and loomed over Kota. "You punk… I'll teach you alright. 'Teamwork' is just a fantasy weaklings invented so they wouldn't feel lonely."
Kota smiled casually and licked his lips. "Then let's settle this on the court. Let the ball do the talking."
.
"The match is about to begin. Players, take your positions"
"Let's have a good game!"
BEEP—
Wakamatsu out-jumped Kobori, and Tōō secured first possession.
"Sorry!"
"It's fine! Just hold your positions—don't let anyone through!"
Kasamatsu led calmly, even though Kota was technically the point guard now. Still, Kasamatsu had always been the team's voice of reason, and everyone trusted his calls. Kota didn't mind letting him shout orders—organizing the offense through hand signals was way less exhausting anyway.
Imayoshi dribbled past half-court and passed the ball to Aomine, then jogged to the baseline to join the other three players.
Kota scanned the court. All four of Tōō's players had cleared out — leaving Aomine completely isolated.
"Isolation play, huh? So typical of you, Aomine" Kise muttered, licking his lips. No one else around—just him and the one guy he was dying to beat. His adrenaline was spiking.
Aomine didn't respond. He casually dribbled, testing Kise's balance, then exploded with a crossover, blowing past him. Kise flinched.
Damn, he's still terrifying…
With the paint wide open, Aomine took a step past the free-throw line and launched into a dunk.
Score! he thought.
But before he could finish, a blur of white shot in from behind. Kise had recovered—and blocked Aomine mid-air.
"Underestimating me comes with consequences, Aomine" Kise smirked.
"Nice block, genius!" someone shouted.
Kota grabbed the loose ball and began pushing forward—but slowly, scanning the court.
Because of their confidence in Aomine, Tōō's other players had already turned to get back on defense. Their early rotation accidentally prevented a fast-break.
Kota clicked his tongue. "Misjudging the situation ended up helping them? That's annoying"
As he crossed half-court, he noticed Kise glowing with excitement at the 45-degree angle—yet he didn't call for the ball. He was waiting on Kota's decision.
Kota smirked. "With that expression? Like I'd pass to anyone else."
Whether it was the adrenaline from the block or the fact that his rival was standing right there, Kise looked fired up. Kota passed to him without hesitation and signaled the team to clear out.
Momoi blinked in surprise. So Kota's the real floor general — not Kasamatsu? And now they're using Tōō's own strategy of clearing the floor for their ace?
She made a mental note: This freshman is no ordinary player.
Kise's teammates spread out. One-on-one time.
Kise centered his stance, brimming with energy but keeping his mind sharp. Can't match his speed? Then I'll beat him with tempo.
He feinted right, then dashed left. Aomine tracked him effortlessly.
"You won't lose me that easily, Kise."
"I know," Kise grinned. "But how about this?"
He stopped abruptly, faking a shot. Aomine halted—and in that split second, Kise accelerated again, driving past and slamming a vicious one-handed dunk.
Ignoring the stunned faces of Tōō's defenders, Kise grinned at Aomine.
"That's one point for me, Aomine!"