Kuroko's Basketball template: the king of slacking off, Shohoku's strongest sixth man.

The next room.

The curtains were drawn tightly, and the air conditioner was blasting cold air.

Rukawa Kaede has wrapped himself up like a silkworm cocoon.

For this fox, sleeping is a sacred ritual of recharging.

Sleep for basketball, because only when you're well-rested can you dominate your opponents on the court.

He lay flat on his back, his hands clasped over his abdomen, looking as peaceful as if he were waiting to ascend to heaven.

The brain is running its final shutdown procedure.

"Fengyu...Nanlie..."

The sinister look in that man's eyes from earlier that day flashed through my mind.

Rukawa Kaede rolled over.

He didn't dislike that look in his eyes.

That's the look in a wild beast's eyes when it sees meat.

Just right.

It's still uncertain who will eat whom.

He began to silently recite the hypnotic mantra that had been ingrained in his bones since junior high school.

"I'm number one in the country..."

"No one can beat me..."

"I'm number one in the country..."

"..."

The fifth second.

His breathing became long and even.

Rukawa Kaede falls asleep at the speed of light.

In his dream, he stood on the floor of the national tournament finals, facing the best players from all over Japan.

And he is preparing to dunk over the whole world.

……

Not everyone can be as carefree as Rukawa Kaede.

Sakuragi Hanamichi's room was brightly lit, resembling an interrogation room.

This red-haired, single-celled organism was sitting cross-legged on the bed, clutching a microphone tightly in its hand, its face as red as a pressure cooker that might explode at any moment.

If Sakuragi's gang saw that awkward look, they'd have a lifetime of laughs.

"That's it... haha..."

Sakuragi let out a lewd laugh into the microphone.

The free hand frantically crumpled the bed sheet, turning the smooth sheet into a dried salted vegetable.

"That ponytail brat was so intimidated by my genius aura that his legs went weak on the spot!"

"And that middle-aged man, Amu, also bows down to this genius!"

He's bragging.

And they boasted about it with such confidence and without any psychological burden.

On the other end of the phone, Haruko Akagi's voice was as gentle as a March breeze, creeping along the phone line and melting Sakuragi's bones.

"Really? Sakuragi-kun is amazing!"

"I knew it, Sakuragi-kun is the real savior."

"that……"

"Tomorrow is the first game, Sakuragi-kun, you have to do your best!"

Haruko paused, her voice tinged with a hint of girlish anticipation.

"Leave it to me!"

Sakuragi suddenly straightened his back, pounding his chest with a loud thud.

"Just you wait, Haruko! This genius will build an impenetrable wall under the basket!"

"That Feng Yu guy, don't even think about taking a single point off my defense!"

"Even if that 'Osaka scoring champion' came, it wouldn't work!"

"Mmm!" Haruko's response was full of blind trust.

The atmosphere is perfect.

The night was just right.

Sakuragi Hanamichi's heart began to pound wildly, out of his control.

Thump, thump, like I'd just stuffed a rabbit that'd had a Red Bull in my hand.

He glanced at the moon outside the window.

The moon is so beautiful tonight.

Should we... take it a step further?

Those famous lines that only appear in shoujo manga?

Sakuragi swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

My palms were sweaty and slippery as I held the microphone.

"Um... Miss Haruko..."

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

Sakuragi took a deep breath, preparing himself for a heroic sacrifice.

A blush spread from her cheeks all the way down to her heels.

"I……"

"Tomorrow...I..."

"I would do it for you..."

At this critical moment!

Just as this confession, which would be recorded in the history of Shohoku, was about to be uttered!

"Slurp—"

I'm so nervous.

My palms were so sweaty they slipped.

The heavy, old-fashioned microphone slipped from his hand.

With a loud thud, it slammed heavily onto the bedside table, then bounced off and crashed onto the floor with a heartbreakingly crisp sound.

"ah!!!"

Sakuragi let out a scream and frantically scrambled off the bed to grab the microphone, his posture as clumsy as a husky fighting for food.

"Hey! Hey! Ms. Haruko?!"

"Sakuragi-kun? Was that an explosion just now?"

On the other end of the phone, Haruko clearly hadn't heard that crucial half-sentence.

Sakuragi lay face down on the floor, his face pressed against the cold tiles, his heart still pounding.

But that desperate courage was shattered by that crisp sound.

He pounded the floor in frustration.

Stupid!

Sakuragi Hanamichi is such a big idiot!

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

Are you a pig?!

"N-nothing..."

Sakuragi got up from the ground, dejected, like a big red dog that had been soaked in the rain.

"Just now... my hand slipped..."

"Oh, that startled me."

Haruko breathed a sigh of relief. "Then Sakuragi-kun, get some rest. See you tomorrow!"

Listening to the busy tone on the receiver.

The annoyance in Sakuragi's eyes gradually faded.

Instead, it has been replaced by an unprecedented wildness.

Although I didn't say it out loud.

But men don't need to rely on words to get things done.

He gripped the microphone tightly, facing the air and his own heart, and solemnly swore:

"Miss Haruko."

"Just you wait and see."

"This genius will never lose."

After hanging up the phone, Sakuragi sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his gaze gradually sharpening like a knife.

"Toyotama..."

"Whoever dares to stand in the way of this genius, I'll send them flying!"

……

The night was deeper.

The corridor was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Kiminobu Kogure, like a worried old woman, inspected each room one by one.

"Miyagi is grinding his teeth... Rukawa is fast asleep... Sakuragi is grinning like an idiot... Never mind."

Finally, he arrived at Akagi Takenori's room.

The door was ajar, and the sound of turning pages could be heard from inside, along with a barely suppressed smell of gunpowder.

Kogure pushed open the door and went inside.

Mitsui Hisashi was sitting on the sofa, holding a copy of "Basketball Weekly" in his hand, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly, looking utterly displeased.

Akagi Takenori stood by the window, his huge back almost blocking out all the moonlight.

He rested his hands on the windowsill, like a silent stone statue.

"Still not asleep?"

Kogure asked softly, "Tomorrow is the first match, you need to be well-rested."

"Sleep my ass!"

Mitsui didn't even look up, shaking the magazine in his hand so loudly it rustled, as if he wanted to tear the paper to shreds.

"Look at the utter nonsense these writers are spouting!"

He pointed to the line of text above, gritting his teeth:

"Overall rating: C. Shohoku High School lacks experience in major competitions and has insufficient bench depth. They will likely be eliminated in the first round against Toyotama, a strong A-level team."

"Huh? Stopped? C-level?"

Mitsui slammed the magazine onto the coffee table, his voice rising eight octaves.

"Why is that Fengyu an A?"

"Just because they were in the top eight last year?"

"These data-challenged idiots!"

"Tomorrow I'll show them what the Flame Man's true strength is!"

Kogure picked up the magazine and smiled wryly.

"Alright, Mitsui, people can say whatever they want."

"Whether it's a C-grade or not, we'll only know after we play it."

He looked at Akagi by the window.

Akagi has been silent since just now. This is very unusual.

Normally, Akagi would have yelled at Mitsui to go back to bed.

"Akagi?"

Kogure walked over with some concern. "What's wrong?"