The roar of the crowd inside the Kanagawa Arena was thunderous. Not because of a game-winning shot or a miraculous block, but because Sakuragi Hanamichi—Kanagawa's most unpredictable power forward—was balancing three basketballs on his head and shoulders during warm-ups, screaming, "BEHOLD! THE GENIUS AT WORK!"
"You're going to strain your neck," I muttered from the bench, already regretting giving him the idea during yesterday's cooldown stretch.
He turned toward me, triumphant. "Kudo! The crowd loves it! I am the man of the hour!"
"You're going to give Anzai-sensei a heart attack," I said, tossing him a towel. "Also, we have a game in ten minutes."
He blinked. "Ah. Right."
One Day Earlier
Coach Anzai stood in front of the chalkboard, the usual calm in his expression. But today, even he seemed... focused. Serious.
"We're playing Kainan tomorrow," he said simply. "And they're watching us more than we think."
Mitsui leaned back, arms crossed. "They've always been a wall. This time we climb it."
"You won't climb anything if you're still relying on fourth-quarter miracles," I said, standing up. "We need a full 40-minute effort."
"Listen to bench-kid over here," Rukawa chimed, half-joking, half-serious, towel around his neck.
"Maybe because I actually observe when I sit," I shot back. "Rukawa, you take too long to pass out of double teams. Mitsui, your cuts are predictable when you're tired. Akagi—"
"I know," our captain interrupted. "I'm too stiff on help defense. You don't have to remind me."
"Actually," I smirked, "I was going to say you're getting faster. I can tell. You've been working on your footwork."
That drew a small, rare smile from Akagi. "Appreciate it."
Anzai-sensei nodded at me. "Kudo-kun has been studying the game. Let's use that."
And just like that, I wasn't just Kudo the Benchwarmer. I was the guy who helped the team see themselves.
Midnight Training – The Rooftop Court
After dinner, I found myself dragging Sakuragi, Rukawa, and Mitsui to the rooftop court above the dorms.
"Why are we doing this again?" Mitsui grumbled, hoodie over his head.
"Because Kainan plays with timing," I said, setting up cones. "If we don't disrupt that rhythm, we'll fall behind fast."
"What do you want us to do?" Rukawa asked, arms folded.
"Play a no-dribble scrimmage. Full court. 10 minutes. You can only pass or shoot. No bounce passes."
Sakuragi blinked. "W-what!? How can the genius show his power without dribbling?!"
"You learn to move. You learn to trust. You stop thinking like individuals. You play connected."
We ran the drill. Chaos, at first—Rukawa got frustrated. Mitsui shouted at Sakuragi. Sakuragi yelled back. But minute by minute, something clicked.
Rukawa cut without looking, and the ball found him. Mitsui rotated to the top of the arc and caught a perfect swing pass. Sakuragi, of all people, set a screen that actually opened the floor.
They were... in sync.
I blew the whistle. "Again."
They didn't argue.
The Night Talk – Bonding
After the training, the four of us collapsed on the cool cement floor. Moonlight cast shadows over our sweaty faces.
"I never thought I'd be training like this," Mitsui said, lying flat. "A year ago I wanted to quit everything."
"You're here now," I replied. "And that's what matters."
He glanced sideways. "You know, Kudo... I used to think you were just some weird transfer kid with a mouth too big for his shoes."
"I am," I grinned.
"But also... you're a real part of this team."
I felt that.
Rukawa, leaning against the fence, said softly, "You're annoying. But I listen when you talk."
Sakuragi nodded. "You're the only one who tells me I'm stupid and explains why."
I laughed. "Thanks, guys. I think."
We sat in silence for a moment, letting the bond settle.
Then Sakuragi stood, stretched, and yelled, "BUT I WILL STILL BE THE STAR! EVEN IF I PASS ONCE IN A WHILE!"
Game Day – Kainan vs. Shohoku
Tip-off.
Kainan's captain, Shinichi Maki, exuded calm menace. Everything about him screamed control. And right from the start, they pressed hard.
First quarter, Shohoku was trailing 18–10.
"Same pattern," Akagi growled during the timeout. "We're starting slow."
"Because we're reacting," I said. "Let's flip it. Play the press against them."
"How?" Mitsui asked.
"Rukawa and Mitsui switch roles on the press-break. Draw defenders to the wings. Sakuragi cuts to the middle after the inbound. Akagi, seal for him. Easy bucket."
Anzai-sensei raised an eyebrow. "Try it."
They did. It worked. Twice in a row.
The bench looked at me like I was casting magic.
"Not magic," I murmured. "Just... vision."
By halftime, Shohoku had clawed back to 37–37.
The Halftime Locker Room – Emotional Growth
Inside the locker room, tension hummed in the air.
"We can beat them," Mitsui said. "I feel it."
Akagi nodded. "But not if we go back to old habits."
Rukawa looked at me. "What's the plan?"
I took a deep breath. "Don't think of it as one big game. Think of it as eight mini-games. Five minutes each. You just have to win each five-minute stretch. That's it. Focus. Win in small pieces."
Sakuragi added, "Then let's win piece by piece!"
Anzai-sensei smiled. "Good. Let's go."
Fourth Quarter Finale
Three minutes left. Shohoku was up by one.
Kainan started trapping hard, pushing Shohoku to the brink. One turnover. Then another.
Timeout.
"We're choking," Mitsui muttered.
"No, you're adapting," I corrected him. "Remember the rooftop drill. No dribbles. Just vision and trust."
Back in play. Sakuragi took the inbound and—miracle of miracles—didn't dribble. He kicked it to Mitsui, who instantly swung it to Rukawa, who cut baseline.
The pass from Mitsui was perfect.
Two points.
Then, on defense, Akagi swatted a layup and screamed like a war god.
Final Play
Shohoku up 70–69. 6 seconds left. Kainan ball.
Everyone looked at Maki. Of course he'd take the final shot.
I leaned forward on the bench, heart pounding. "Switch the screen," I whispered. "Please switch the—"
On court, Rukawa and Mitsui saw the pick coming. Rukawa switched instantly.
Maki hesitated.
Sakuragi jumped the lane, flailing wildly—
Steal.
The buzzer sounded as he sprinted down the court, flung the ball up in wild celebration, and crashed into the wall.
Shohoku had won.
Pandemonium.
Post-Game
Back in the locker room, everyone was still buzzing. High-fives. Towel slaps. Shouts of "We did it!"
Coach Anzai looked over at me, smiling. "Good work, Kudo-kun."
"I didn't score a point," I chuckled.
"But you helped everyone see more clearly," he said. "That matters."
Sakuragi ran over, still sweaty. "KUDO! You saw me?! I saved us!"
"You did," I nodded. "And you passed when it mattered."
He blinked. "Wait... you're proud of me?"
I grinned. "Don't get used to it."