Those spectators who once mocked him as a "foul-out king" and a "complete amateur"—
were now all on their feet, applauding without restraint for the red-haired boy.
This was recognition of strength.
A tribute to that earth-shaking dunk.
Sakuragi froze.
He stared blankly at the roaring stands, at the crowd cheering his na.
A strange current surged through his body, making his simple, straightforward heart pound wildly.
So this is… what it feels like to be a hero?
"Heh… heheh…"
Sakuragi scratched the back of his head, cheeks flushing red, that familiar foolish grin spreading across his face again.
"As expected… everyone's finally noticed this genius's brilliance!"
Just then—
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Rukawa Kaede stood on the court, his gaze as cold as ever, but his tone unusually serious.
"I'll handle the rest."
Sakuragi's eyes widened as if the sun had risen in the west.
"Hmph! If you lose, this genius won't forgive you!"
"I won't lose."
Rukawa turned away, his back lone and resolute.
...
At the highest point of the stands—
Several figures in purple jackets watched with solemn expressions.
Kainan.
Maki Shinichi stood with arms crossed, his gaze locked onto Makino Juro, who was being helped off the court.
"That first-year point guard… that last steal and pass—those were what truly killed the ga."
"Even with his stamina completely drained, he still maintained that level of composure and precision…"
"He's terrifying."
Maki's voice was low.
"It looks like the balance of Kanagawa is about to change."
A dignified voice sounded behind them.
Kainan's coach, Takato Riki, had appeared at so point, folding fan in hand, eyes deep and calculating.
"Fujima Kenji did more than enough, both as a player and a coach."
"But unfortunately…"
Snap.
The fan closed sharply.
"Shohoku has produced two extraordinary 'monsters.'"
"Especially that boy, Makino Juro—his existence completely disrupts conventional tactics."
"Fujima's era… is over."
Beside him, Kiyota Nobunaga opened his mouth to argue, but found his throat dry.
Even Coach Takato said so…
That guy who always looked half-asleep… was really that strong?
On the other side.
Sendoh Akira from Ryonan stroked his chin, a playful smile curling on his lips.
"How interesting."
"Looks like this year won't be boring after all."
...
Makino Juro felt like a puddle of mud—he didn't even have the strength to lift his legs.
"Hey… Sakuragi…"
he called weakly.
"What?"
"This genius is busy right now—enjoying the cheers!" Sakuragi was still blowing kisses to the crowd.
"Carry ."
"…Huh? What did you just say?" Sakuragi glared.
"I can't walk. Carry back."
Juro said it like it was only natural.
"That last play? I passed you the ball."
Sakuragi clicked his tongue, face full of disdain.
"Tch, that was clearly this genius scoring with pure skill."
Even so—
he crouched down anyway.
"Get on!"
"Troubleso guy! Just this once, okay?!"
Juro didn't hold back, climbing straight onto Sakuragi's broad back.
"Not bad… pretty sturdy."
"Of course! These are a genius's back muscles!"
The scene was both ridiculous and warm.
A red-haired giant carrying a boy who looked half-asleep—
walking slowly back to the bench under thunderous applause.
At that mont, it felt like ti itself had frozen.
Mind and body.
Strategy and raw talent.
In this sumr, they had fused into sothing perfect.
There were 40 seconds left.
With Fujima no longer dictating the tempo, Shohoku subbed in the steady defender Kogure.
Though they had lost Makino Juro's playmaking and Sakuragi's rebounding, Shohoku's montum completely overwheld Shoyo.
"Defense!!"
Akagi Takenori roared under the basket like an immovable guardian.
"Lock this possession down!!"
Mitsui Hisashi gritted his teeth, dragging his heavy legs as he clung to his opponent.
Miyagi Ryota used his speed like an annoying gnat, constantly disrupting Shoyo's passing lanes.
Rukawa Kaede took over on offense—
slashing through the defense and dishing to Akagi for an easy finish inside.
70:60.
A double-digit lead.
Shoyo collapsed completely.
Fujima Kenji stood on the court, staring at the scoreboard.
At last, tears spilled from his eyes.
He knew—
it was over.
BEEEEEEP!!!
The final buzzer sounded.
The entire arena erupted like a tidal wave.
70:62.
Shohoku High had defeated last year's runner-up—
the powerhouse, seeded team, Shoyo High!
"We won!!! We won!!!"
Shohoku's players rushed onto the court, surrounding Akagi and Coach Anzai in celebration.
Makino Juro lay on Sakuragi's back, listening to the deafening cheers around him, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him.
This ti—
he could finally sleep peacefully.
"Not bad… everyone…"
he murmured silently.
Then his head tilted—
and he lost consciousness completely.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for completing the mission]
[Calculating rewards...]
The system's voice echoed in his mind—
but Makino Juro could no longer hear it.
In the stands.
Maki Shinichi stood up, straightened his collar, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"Let's go."
"Ti to prepare."
"Our opponent for the finals… has appeared."
The Kanagawa Prefecture Tournant Finals.
Shohoku—
has officially entered the stage.
...
The noise in the stands gradually receded like a retreating tide.
The scoreboard still glowed—
70:62.
That once-dominant Shoyo—
the team hailed as the second strongest in Kanagawa.
had fallen to a group of "troublemakers" in white jerseys.
The spectators left reluctantly, still buzzing with discussion.
The topics?
That red-haired dunk.
And the first-year point guard who took over the ga in its final monts.
At the exit tunnel.
Ryonan High's team prepared to leave.
Coach Taoka Moichi paused, glancing back toward Shoyo's bench.
There—
Fujima Kenji sat with a towel over his head, shoulders trembling faintly.
No wailing.
Only a suffocating silence.
"Coach, let's go."
Sendoh Akira stood with hands in his pockets, wearing his usual carefree smile.
"…Yeah."
Taoka sighed deeply.
A long sigh—filled with regret, and a quiet sense of shared sorrow.
He shook his head, hands behind his back as he walked away, voice low as if speaking to himself.
"Fujima's a good seedling…"
"A star player… and the team's coach."
"That burden…"
"For a high schooler…"
"…is simply too heavy."
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