Yōsen High

As the echoes of the roaring crowd faded, all that remained in the gym was the lingering scent of sweat and hard-fought competition.

Shiro and his teammates had changed out of their jerseys and back into their casual clothes when Momoi quietly approached him.

"Shiro" she spoke softly, her voice warm and gentle, like a spring breeze rippling across a lake. "Our next opponent has been decided."

There was a mix of anticipation and concern in her eyes.

"Yōsen High, huh? No way he's losing either" Shiro responded with a confident smile, completely at ease.

Then, he reached out and gently pulled Momoi into his embrace. He hadn't had the chance to properly spend time with her today, hadn't gotten his usual recharge.

Even after all these years together, Momoi's cheeks still flushed slightly. She leaned into Shiro, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

With so many people around, her shyness and reserved nature made her a little embarrassed.

But seeing Shiro take the game so seriously today filled her with pride and warmth.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair, her gaze full of concern. "You must be exhausted"

"Not really. As long as you're here, I don't feel tired" Shiro murmured, burying his head against her chest.

His voice carried a deep sense of reliance and comfort, as if simply being with Momoi could erase all his fatigue.

This display of affection instantly drew scornful glances from Fukui's single teammates. Watching the two of them so close, they couldn't help but feel a mix of envy and frustration.

Noticing their stares, Shiro lifted his head with a teasing grin. "Don't look at us like that. If you're jealous, go find yourselves a girlfriend."

His words were playful but still managed to rub salt in the wound.

"Get lost!" The team snapped, gritting their teeth, refusing to acknowledge him any further.

They quickly shifted their focus back to the upcoming match, trying to distract themselves from Shiro and Momoi's sweetness.

"Yōsen… That means Murasakibara, right?" Nijimura muttered, stroking his chin, his expression serious.

After all, Murasakibara was no ordinary player. Physically, the only one who could compare to him was Shiro.

But unlike Murasakibara, Shiro wasn't as tall or bulky. He didn't have the same physical dominance in the paint, but his speed, agility, and basketball IQ were his greatest weapons.

Kawamura also had a grave expression. His mind drifted back to three years ago.

Back then, Murasakibara had been just a rookie, yet he was already showing frightening potential on the court.

"Three years ago, he was already capable of going toe-to-toe with Hachimura" Kawamura muttered, his tone heavy with both anticipation and tension.

Now, Hachimura was holding his own as a key player in the American high school circuit, and Murasakibara was three years younger than him.

That fact alone made it impossible for anyone to underestimate this upcoming battle.

Yōsen Gym

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the gym, casting scattered patterns across the polished wooden floor.

The rhythmic bounce of a basketball echoed in the vast space as Himuro dribbled, his movements fluid and precise. Each bounce of the ball synchronized with his heartbeat.

Every action—his dribbling, spin moves, jumps, and shots—bore the mark of relentless training.

The ball traced a perfect arc through the air before swishing cleanly through the net.

Himuro knew how strong their next opponent was. He had to push himself even harder. A flicker of unease flashed through his eyes.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Okamura appeared at the doorway, his gaze filled with a mix of concern and expectation. As team captain, he understood Himuro's abilities better than anyone, and no one was looking forward to his performance more than him.

"Still here, Himuro?" Okamura's voice carried a slight chuckle as it echoed across the gym.

Himuro turned, wiping sweat from his forehead with a calm smile. He took a deep breath before replying, "Tomorrow's quarterfinal… The opponents are tough."

Okamura nodded, his eyes filled with trust and determination. "No doubt. But we believe in you. You and Murasakibara can take them down."

Himuro let out a small, wry chuckle. This game would be on an entirely different level. Their opponents didn't just have a Generation of Miracles ace—they also had his old friend, Nijimura, once the best power forward in middle school.

Himuro inhaled deeply, steadying his emotions before diving back into training. He knew that only through relentless practice could he bring out his very best tomorrow.

Fukui's Gym

"Tatsuya Himuro?!" Nijimura's voice rang through the gym, laced with disbelief and complex emotions.

Ever since Himuro returned to Japan, their contact had dwindled.

Nijimura's thoughts drifted to the past, back to the days they had spent together.

Back then, Himuro was only fifteen — already a tall guy. 

They first met through a nasty streetball incident. Himuro had rushed headfirst into a gang's hideout to rescue his friend Mike, who had been kidnapped by thugs.

That night, in a brutal showdown, Himuro showcased his surprising fighting skills, effortlessly taking down several delinquents.

To this day, Nijimura could still remember the awe he felt in that moment. Under the dim streetlights, Himuro's figure seemed larger than life, every movement radiating power and finesse.

It was then that Nijimura realized this guy wasn't just all looks—he had something much deeper within him.

From that day forward, the two became close friends. They spent their free time playing basketball, sharing their struggles, and building a bond beyond the game.

Basketball became the thread that tied them together, a testament to their youth.

And now, they would face each other again—not as friends, but as rivals.

Nijimura's heart was filled with conflicting emotions. He was eager for this matchup, yet there was an underlying sense of unease.