The warm light of the ramen shop spilled over the wooden table, casting long shadows of the two.
Sendo lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, his tone carrying a few points of pre-battle seriousness: "Gu Jin, tomorrow in the first match I'll face A Mu. How about I go test the waters for you first?"
"Test the waters?" Gu Jin raised an eyebrow and smiled, a determined light flashing in his eyes, "With your ability, shouldn't you be thinking about defeating him?"
"It's not that simple." Sendo put away his smile, drawing an arc on the table with his fingertips, "I've carefully analyzed that game against Mike Okita. A Mu probably still has a hidden trump card that he hasn't revealed."
Gu Jin fell silent for a moment, the image of Maki Shinichi from the anime in his previous life appearing in his mind—that almost dominant court control and his ability to single-handedly take on opponents were indeed top-tier. The scenes in the plot where Shohoku's four players couldn't stop him despite ganging up on him were vivid. Although Sendo had fought him to a standstill in the Ryonan vs. Hainan game, a one-on-one match had too many variables, leaving no room for underestimation.
"I have absolute confidence in you." Gu Jin looked up, his tone resolute, "Remember, Maki Shinichi is a slow starter. The longer it drags on, the stronger his adaptability to the rhythm becomes. You must seize a fast pace at the beginning, catch him off guard, and your chances of winning are very high. Also, he absolutely cannot defend against the changing direction techniques of the Kash Step."
Sendo's eyes lit up upon hearing this, his fingertips secretly outlining the footwork under the table: "Okay, I'll do as you say." He changed the subject, suddenly leaning in closer, his tone a bit mysterious, "Oh, right, Gu Jin, Coach Taoka was furious yesterday, do you know why?"
Gu Jin raised an eyebrow: "Is it related to me?"
"Not entirely." Sendo's smile became even more mysterious, a playful curve on his lips.
"Stop being so secretive." Gu Jin reached out and tapped the table.
"The Ryokufu people approached the school board yesterday." Sendo lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret, "To poach you, they offered to donate ten top-of-the-line multimedia classrooms to Ryonan—what made Coach Taoka most furious was that, besides Chairman Shenmu, the other board members were actually tempted." He looked up at Gu Jin, a hint of teasing in his tone, "I didn't expect it, but you're quite the hot commodity now, capable of attracting investment."
Gu Jin's hand, holding the water cup, paused, the steam from the rim blurring his profile.
When he looked up, there was no hesitation in his tone, every word clear: "I will not leave Ryonan, no matter how much money."
The night wind outside the window rustled through the treetops, the aroma of ramen in the shop mingled with their conversation, slowly spreading in the warm light.
The outcome of tomorrow's game was uncertain, but at this moment, the bond belonging to Ryonan had already taken root deeper in the silence.
At 9:30 AM the next day, beneath the metal dome of the Kanagawa Prefectural Gymnasium, a restless atmosphere, like a coming storm, already permeated the air.
In the center of the court, Sendo casually dribbled the ball, the arc of his fingertips across the ball's surface carrying a relaxed air, yet his gaze occasionally swept towards the figure not far away—Maki Shinichi was bent over, doing shuttle runs, each step landing with a solid thud, his muscles tensing with a steady power beneath his sportswear.
Although they hadn't spoken, an invisible tension already entwined in the air.
There were five minutes left until the game started.
On the sidelines, Taoka Moichi's voice was loud enough to pierce through the entire stadium: "Sendo! Show them everything you've got! Let them see who the ace of Kanagawa really is!"
The other Ryonan players cheered in unison, the wave of sound filled with the passion of youth.
On the other side, Takato Riki was calm and composed, his voice not loud but every word clear: "A Mu, don't give them any chances. Remember, the name of Hainan tolerates no provocation." The other Hainan Team players immediately straightened their backs, their eyes burning with undeniable fighting spirit.
The stands had already erupted, discussions rising and falling like a tide.
"Oh my god, this setup is too exaggerated, isn't it? Both teams actually came!"
"Nonsense, Sendo and Maki Shinichi! This is a head-on clash between Kanagawa's two aces, who wouldn't take it seriously? To put it bluntly, this is a battle of pride!"
Suddenly, Taoka Moichi turned his head, his gaze directly meeting Takato Riki's.
The two gazes collided in the air, as if sparking with crackling fire.
"Takato!" Taoka's voice carried an uncontainable sharpness, "Watch closely! Today, Sendo will personally overthrow your Emperor right here!
And in the Prefectural Tournament, Ryonan will definitely drag Hainan down from its pedestal!" He clenched his fist, knuckles white, his heart churning with years of accumulated obsession.
Takato Riki, however, merely curved his lips faintly, his eyes hiding an unrevealed certainty.
He didn't speak, but in his heart, he clearly retorted: "Taoka-senpai, after all these years, you still haven't changed.
Neither you, your players, nor your team will ever defeat me."
The referee's whistle suddenly sounded at that moment, cutting through the commotion on the sidelines.
Sendo and Maki Shinichi stopped their movements simultaneously, turning to look at the center of the court.
The ace showdown, on the verge of erupting.
After rock-paper-scissors, the referee tossed the ball to Sendo. Sendo flicked his fingertips skillfully, and the basketball, spinning, landed in his palm.
He remained still, but his gaze met Maki Shinichi's three steps away, and the air seemed to solidify instantly.
"Here it comes!" A tsunami of cheers erupted from the stands.
Sendo suddenly accelerated, the tip of his left foot scraping a semicircle on the floor, the basketball seemingly creating afterimages between his hands.
Maki Shinichi lowered his center of gravity, his arms spread like iron gates, his eyes devoid of any ripples—he was too familiar with this rhythm, just as a cheetah always anticipates an antelope's leap.
Three consecutive crossover dribbles, Sendo's jersey flapped in the wind, only two steps away from the hoop.
He suddenly stopped, his wrist flicking lightly, and the basketball arced in a parabola.
"Bang!"
Maki Shinichi had leaped up at some point, his long arm like a pole, forcefully pinning the ball against the edge of the backboard.
The basketball bounced away, Sendo grabbed the ball again, but all his offensive routes were blocked.
The red light of the shot clock suddenly lit up, a 24-second violation.
The entire stadium was first silent, then erupted in deafening cheers and sighs.
Sendo raised an eyebrow as he landed, dusting off his palms, a hint of interest added to his gaze towards Maki Shinichi.
Offense and defense switched, Maki Shinichi dribbled the ball forward.
His movements lacked Sendo's agility, but carried a mountain-like oppressive force, each step like a drumbeat.
Maki Shinichi suddenly changed direction, pulling the ball behind him with his right hand, looking as if he was about to drive to the left.
Sendo's center of gravity shifted sharply, only to see Maki Shinichi's wrist move, dribbling the ball back to his right hand—it was a fake!
Taking advantage of Sendo's shift in balance, he suddenly pulled up, even glancing at the hoop during his hang time.
Sendo jumped almost simultaneously, his long arm covering down like an umbrella.
The two collided in mid-air, Maki Shinichi's shot was interfered with, and the basketball hit the side of the backboard and bounced out.
The red light of the shot clock lit up at this moment, 24 seconds resetting to zero again.
"Phew—" Maki Shinichi exhaled as he landed, a sharper glint in his eyes as he looked at Sendo.
Offense and defense exchanged, Sendo's fingertips seemed to stick to the ball as he dribbled, a front crossover into a behind-the-back dribble, his footwork creating afterimages like a tango.
Maki Shinichi remained unmoved, consistently maintaining a half-step distance, his eyes locked firmly on Sendo's waist—that was the key to determining the direction of his breakthrough.
Sendo suddenly accelerated, his left shoulder seemingly about to break through the defense, but he instantly pulled back his force before contact, his foot stepping back, a reverse Euro step! This move was as fast as lightning, looking as if it would shake off Maki Shinichi.
"No way!" Maki Shinichi growled, twisting his body forcefully, his long arm reaching from behind diagonally, his fingertips just touching the basketball.
Sendo's shooting rhythm was disrupted, the ball hit the front rim of the hoop and bounced out.
Another 24-second violation.
The scoreboard still read 0:0, but the air on the sidelines was already hot enough to ignite.
Takato Riki put down his thermos, his knuckles gently tapping the rim of the cup;
Taoka Moichi gripped a sports drink bottle, his fingerprints deeply embedded in the plastic casing.
In the stands, some held "Sendo" cheering signs, others roared "A Mu's" name, the sound waves hitting the dome, making eardrums tremble.
Sendo patted the ball, then suddenly raised an eyebrow at Maki Shinichi: "Now what? Are you warmed up yet?"
Maki Shinichi tugged at the collar of his jersey, revealing his defined collarbone, his voice low like sandpaper: "The main course is just about to be served."
Sunlight streamed through the dome's glass, casting a straight line between the two.
The next second, Sendo dribbled the ball again, the sound of the basketball hitting the floor, like war drums, echoed throughout the stadium.
