Prologue: The Sky Cracks
At 3:13 AM, every student in Shohoku heard the sound.
Like glass cracking in the heavens.
No alarms.
No sirens.
Just the faint shimmer of light above the campus—ribbons of red energy spiraling through the clouds like ink in water.
When I opened my eyes, the room glowed faintly crimson.
And somewhere in the silence…
A new presence arrived.
Not a player.
Not yet.
But a warning of what was coming.
The Protocol had begun.
Morning Briefing – Anzai's Hidden File
Coach Anzai gathered us in the equipment room before practice.
All of us.
Even the benchwarmers.
Even Sakuragi, who was halfway through stuffing a banana into a rice ball.
"This is no longer a normal tournament," Coach began. "There are shifts in reality occurring around our campus."
Sakuragi raised his hand. "Coach, does this mean the aliens are coming?"
"No," I said before Coach could answer. "But we're being watched."
Coach placed an old file on the bench: a dusty red folder stamped with Clocktower Emblem 03B.
"What's that?" Mitsui asked, narrowing his eyes.
"A containment plan," I said slowly. "One designed for events that disrupt narrative balance."
Coach nodded. "I called it the Red Sky Protocol."
Understanding the Protocol
The folder contained ten pages.
Each one showed a profile of a fictional player.
Abilities, personality, origin—some from alternate timelines, others from rejected game plans.
Some were familiar to me.
Too familiar.
Because I remembered writing some of them… during late nights in my old world, for a basketball RPG forum that no one ever read.
One in particular made my stomach drop.
Page 7: "Akashi Jin – The Mirror Commander."
Position: Point Guard
Origin: Timeline Zero-Alpha
Trait: Command Zone – Reflects and replays any play he witnesses with 120% efficiency.
He wasn't just fiction anymore.
He was coming.
Training Disrupted – Visitors from Elsewhere
While we ran drills, the gym door burst open.
In walked three unfamiliar players wearing no school colors—just jet-black jerseys marked with a silver spiral.
They didn't speak.
They lined up at the free-throw line and began shooting, one after the other, in perfect rhythm.
Akagi stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The tallest one smiled. "Visitors."
"From where?"
The smallest one replied, "You wouldn't believe us."
I felt a sharp pressure in the air. The kind you feel before lightning strikes.
These weren't just players.
They were constructs.
Rukawa stepped beside me. "Do we fight them?"
"No," I said. "We surpass them."
Shohoku Reacts – The Spirit Remains
Later that evening, as the sun painted the sky in gold and rust, we met on the roof.
Sakuragi kicked his legs against the ledge. "So… what now? Robots from another timeline? Space twins?"
I smiled. "Something like that."
Mitsui tossed him a soda. "All we gotta do is keep playing our game."
"Against what, though?" Yasuda asked. "They don't bleed. They don't foul. They don't even talk trash."
"Then we beat them so hard they start crying code," Sakuragi declared.
Rukawa smirked. "They'll learn emotions by losing."
Even Akagi cracked a small grin. "Shohoku will not bow. Not to machines. Not to gods. Not to ghosts."
That was when I felt it.
The reason I was here.
Not to fix the story.
But to finish it.
The Arrival – Akashi Jin Steps Onto the Court
The next morning, we arrived for an unscheduled exhibition match arranged by the regional committee.
The opposing team wore black and gray.
And leading them was Akashi Jin—eyes silver, movements fluid, a gaze that pierced through time itself.
"Kudo Hirata," he said. "I've been waiting."
I swallowed. "You shouldn't exist."
"I exist because you do," he said calmly. "We were born from the same draft. I just… evolved."
He raised one finger. "This is not for a title. This is for supremacy of narrative flow. You win, the story stays yours."
"And if you win?" I asked.
"I overwrite it."
Match Start – Chaos Controlled
From the opening tip, it was different.
Akashi Jin didn't need teammates.
He became the play.
He copied Rukawa's stepback, Mitsui's jump shot form, and even Sakuragi's dunk pattern.
It was like playing against a mirror with a mind.
But we didn't panic.
Coach Anzai whispered to me during the timeout, "Give them the unfinished play."
"You mean—?"
He nodded.
I smiled.
Time to improvise.
Kudo's Unwritten Play – 'Ripple Flow'
I shouted out a new formation.
One we never practiced.
One I only sketched in my journal under the title "Ripple Flow."
A decentralized offense where no one is the anchor. Where each movement triggers another, like water ripples in a pond.
Sakuragi set a fake screen but didn't roll.
Mitsui shot-faked and passed backward.
Rukawa tossed it mid-air.
And I, from the top of the key, tipped it—not to the rim, but to Akagi behind the backboard.
He slammed it home with a grunt that shook the gym.
We weren't playing basketball anymore.
We were creating it.
Akashi's Response – The Mirror Shatters
Akashi Jin tried to adjust.
Tried to mirror.
But our unpredictability created lag.
He slipped once. Then again.
His teammates—programmed for perfection—began glitching as they failed to recalculate our flow.
Rukawa intercepted a pass.
Mitsui drilled a corner three.
Sakuragi… dunked over two defenders so hard the rim bent and stayed that way.
Shohoku 76 – Protocol 70.
Akashi stared at the floor.
He looked up at me.
And smiled.
"Beautiful," he whispered.
Then he vanished.
Just like that.
The rest of the constructs turned and walked silently out of the gym.
Post-Match – The Team Speaks
We sat together on the court, sweat and silence mixing under the flickering gym lights.
"So," Sakuragi huffed, "what was that?"
"A warning," I said.
"Think they'll be back?" Akagi asked.
I nodded. "Probably with fewer smiles next time."
Mitsui leaned back. "Then we train harder. Laugh louder. Win bigger."
Rukawa, tired but thoughtful, said quietly, "We made a dent in their world."
And I smiled.
"Then we keep hitting it until it breaks."
Shohoku Team Update – Post-Protocol Battle
Name
Role
Status
Kudo Hirata
Strategist / Creator
Led team through unpredictable tactical play. Strengthened team identity.
Sakuragi Hanamichi
Variable PF
Reinforced unique rhythm play; emotional anchor with hidden potential.
Rukawa Kaede
Ace SF
Adaptive and unflinching; senses deeper anomalies.
Mitsui Hisashi
Veteran SG
Sharp shooting and grounding presence.
Takenori Akagi
Captain / C
Unshaken pillar; unlocked late-game mobility and trust.
Akashi Jin
Simulacrum PG
Defeated; vanished after narrative fracture. Threat suspended.
Closing – Above Shohoku, a Rift Remains
That night, I walked out into the quiet of the schoolyard.
The red sky had faded… but not completely.
A single crack remained, suspended in the stars.
A voice echoed—faint, hollow, and somehow familiar.
"You've resisted the protocol… but the final draft is coming."
I stared up and whispered to myself:
"Then I'll write the ending with my own hands."
And behind me, I heard footsteps.
Sakuragi. Rukawa. Mitsui. Akagi.
Together.
Team Shohoku.
Unwritten. Unbreakable. All in.
[Next Time on Benchwarmer Chronicles — Chapter 41: "Author's Note – When Fiction Strikes Back"]
A mysterious book appears in Kudo's locker titled "Benchwarmer Chronicles – Volume 1." Its chapters reflect their actual matches—word for word. But the final pages remain blank… except for one name. "Sakuragi – Dead Ball."