"The qualifiers for the Interhigh are now halfway through, and the powerhouse schools are once again living up to expectations! In the East, the reigning kings, Rakuzan High, even without their captain, Seijuro Akashi, have gone four-for-four and secured the first ticket to the round-robin stage!"
"Meanwhile, in the West, Kaijo High hasn't finished all of their qualifiers yet due to scheduling, but before their fourth game they dropped a monster win—175 to 31—basically announcing to every team: 'We're still the champs!'"
"On the same day, in the South, Yosen High also broke a record. In their last qualifier, they won 100 to 0—the first shutout in Japanese basketball history with a triple-digit score! Fun fact: the previous record holder? Yosen again, with a 98–0 game."
"The other regions are solid, but if you want pure chaos, the North is where it's at!"
"In the second round of qualifiers, one of the North's traditional giants—Seihō High—took on last Winter Cup's quarterfinalist, Tōō Academy, and fell short! 97 to 45. For Seihō… interhigh is already over."
—Excerpt from a viral tweet by a well-known basketball blogger.
The comments section blew up:
"Seihō got wrecked again. Every year, same story—they can't even touch the main court."
"Can't blame 'em, really. The North is a total bloodbath this year."
"So what do you guys think—will Kaijo three-peat?"
"Unlikely. They've already won both the interhigh and winter last year. Plus, their roster isn't as intact as Rakuzan's or Seirin's. I'd give those two the edge."
"Lol. People said the exact same thing last year, right before Kaijo lifted the trophy. Watch them shut everyone up again this summer."
"+1, placing my bets."
"+1 +1 +1, Kaijo repeat incoming!"
…
"Hello everyone, and welcome to Basketball Talk, proudly sponsored by XX! I'm your host, Sasha."
"And I'm Nini. Today, we've got a special guest—the most popular basketball blogger right now, Mr. Bobo!"
"Hey, what's up, I'm Bobo."
...
That evening, inside Shark Gym:
Araki lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, TV remote in hand, watching the show with interest.
Next to her, Kota sat on a yoga mat stretching, a phone clamped between his shoulder and ear.
"No! No way! I've told you a thousand times—no changing nationality! What, are you going through a rebellious phase now, trying to defy me on purpose? If your mom hears you're planning to run abroad, she'll break your legs!"
Grinding his teeth, Kota barked into the phone while pushing his muscles to the limit.
From Araki's perspective, it was hard to tell if he was pissed at Kise… or just mad at his hamstrings.
"Careful—you'll tear a ligament like that," she said lazily, before turning her attention back to the TV.
"So, Mr. Bobo, how do you feel about this year's Inter-High?"
On-screen, Sasha—stylish, sharp, and camera-ready—read from her cue card.
For some reason, Araki found Sasha oddly familiar. Same with Nini, the second host. She'd never seen them before, and this was her first time watching the show, but something about them nagged at her.
"Ahem."
Bobo cleared his throat and said confidently, "This year's Interhigh is full of surprises! Dark horses are popping up everywhere, while the powerhouse schools are still going strong. Even the qualifiers are exciting—that's never happened before! Just look at the North, the games there are absolute fire! Honestly, I can't wait to see which teams make it out of the round-robin!"
His eager expression and energetic delivery made it clear—this guy wasn't camera-shy at all.
Sasha exchanged a quick glance with Nini. Nini immediately picked up the next question.
"So, Mr. Bobo, which teams do you see making a deep run? Who's your pick for the championship?"
Unlike Sasha's elegant, almost intimidating vibe, Nini had a softer, "girl next door" style. Combined with her sweet voice, it almost made Bobo forget he was on live TV.
He coughed again, pulling himself together.
"Well, obviously Kaijo are favorites, having won both titles last year. Then you've got Rakuzan, who fell short in the Winter Cup semis, and Seirin, who lost a nail-biter in the finals. All of them are serious contenders…"
Bobo went on to name more schools — Tōō, Yosen, even Shūtoku. His classic "everyone gets a compliment" strategy was in full swing.
"Kaijo really is amazing. Two straight championships in one year! But a lot of fans think their chances aren't as strong this time. Can you explain why, Mr. Bobo?"
Sasha brushed her hair back dramatically and gave the camera a perfect side profile. Bobo nearly tripped over his words again.
"Well, Kaijo did lose some key seniors. Last year's starting shooting guard and center both graduated. Compared to Rakuzan and Seirin, their lineup has more turnover."
He paused, then quickly balanced the scale with praise: "But honestly, I still think Kaijo's core has always been in their backcourt with Kota, and on the wing with Kise. As long as those two are around, Kaijo's offense isn't going anywhere!"
"Kise… truly an extraordinary player."
Neither host seemed to notice their cheeks reddening as they said his name.
"Exactly! But Kaijo's strength isn't just Kise. Sure, his talent is once-in-a-century level, but in my opinion, Kota is the player I respect most on the team!"
Bobo leaned in, selling his point. Praising Kaijo like this was guaranteed to win him new fans.
"Kota may not have overwhelming natural gifts, but as Kaijo's brain, he's led the team this far. That contribution is invaluable! Fun fact: his raw athletic stats are only slightly above the average Japanese basketball fan! If you're a player chasing improvement, watch Kaijo. Their 'Twin Stars', Kota and Kise, aren't just close friends off the court—their on-court chemistry is second to none."
Araki shot Kota a sidelong glance.
At that moment, he looked like a frustrated dad scolding a rebellious son—pleading, threatening, and bargaining all at once.
"I told you! The Japan Basketball Association will never let you go quietly. Staying here is better than running off with me to China… are you even listening? Hello? Hello? Damn it!"
With a growl, Kota tossed his phone onto the sofa and flopped onto his back, tongue pressing against his cheek in sheer irritation.
"Did you just hang up on them?" Araki asked, fighting back laughter.
"…Yeah."
Covering his face with both hands, Kota let out a deep, frustrated sigh.
"***"
…
The outside world had no idea that Kaijo's "Twin Stars" had now entered a stage of silent rivalry.
Off the court, and even during practice, they barely exchanged a single word. The only time they actually spoke was after practice—ironically, through loud arguments over the phone.
A brand-new trend: "phone fights."
"Kaijo's final possession! Only twenty seconds left… oh! Our floor general decides to give up the last play. He tucks the ball at his waist and shakes hands with today's opponents one by one. Now that's the composure of a king! Congratulations to Kaijo for another overwhelming win, advancing to the round-robin stage and earning their ticket toward the main tournament!"
This was Kaijo's last qualifier. In the stands, a popular outdoor streamer was broadcasting the match live on his phone.
As digital gifts and comments flooded his screen, the guy was grinning so wide it looked like his face might split in half.
"Forgive me if my words weren't precise — entering the round-robin doesn't mean Kaijo automatically qualifies for the main tournament. They still have to play three more games in the round-robin for a chance to be one of the top three in the West. But honestly, with Kaijo? That's barely even a challenge."
Because of the schedule, the Western qualifiers ended the latest, but their round-robin stage started the earliest among all four regions.
As expected, within two days Kaijo won all three matches with huge margins, taking first place in the West and punching their ticket to the main tournament.
Even though Kise and Kota still spoke almost zero words to each other…
…their on-court performance was flawless.No talking, barely even eye contact, yet it was like they shared the same brain. The two lit up the court with highlight plays, drawing endless screams from the crowd.
"Oh my God! Somebody tell me what these two just did!"
Inside the live broadcast room for the West's round-robin, Bobo clutched his head, hand trembling as he pointed at the replay.
From the 45-degree wing, Kota casually strolled with the ball in one hand, no sign of calling a play. If you ignored the basketball in his hand, he looked like he was taking a walk in the park.
Suddenly, Kota made a sharp fake pass with both hands to the right, selling it so perfectly that the defenders all bit on it.
But it was only a feint.
His body and gaze stayed fixed to the side as if he had really passed, but with his left hand he flicked the ball high toward the rim.
Even the cameras lagged behind. Only when the rim rattled with a thunderous slam did the shot cut to the paint—
Where Kise was hanging from the rim with both hands, his body swaying slightly before landing gracefully as the defenders stared in shock, pupils practically falling out of their eyes.
Silence.
Thousands of people in the arena, and not a single one had actually seen what just happened. All eyes had been glued to Kota outside. Nobody even noticed Kise sneaking in.
The big screen above the court replayed the missed moment: Kota's fake pass to the side, eyes locked left, every defender fooled. But Kise, who had been resting in the right corner, read Kota's intention instantly.
Without hesitation, Kise sprinted, and at the perfect moment Kota fired the lob—without even looking. Kise soared through the air and hammered down the alley-oop!
Sure, in terms of difficulty or flair, this dunk wouldn't even crack Kise's career highlight reel.
But the telepathic trust between the two—that was what drove the crowd insane.
The arena erupted like a volcanic roar. The broadcast director wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned.
That replay? Absolute gold.
"I can't believe my eyes! Kota must have eyes in the back of his head—how else did he know Kise was there? And Kise… is he even human? Jumping that high, he's got springs in his legs! The organizers better check him after the game!"
Bobo's deadpan commentary sent the chat into hysterics. He grinned at the flood of "HAHAHA" scrolling across the screen.
"Oh, and while you're at it, check Kota too! I swear these two have built-in walkie-talkies. They're more in sync than twins. Totally unfair!"
The livestream's popularity skyrocketed.
Next to Bobo sat a skinny newcomer host. Watching Kaijo's Twin Stars pull off such a godlike play yet remain completely expressionless and distant, he couldn't help blurting out:
"Uh… the Kaijo Twin Stars don't look too happy. Do you think they're fighting? Last game too, they didn't talk the whole time. Even if the match wasn't stressful, isn't that kind of weird?"
This newbie, nicknamed "Stone" was only on his third live broadcast ever.
Hearing such a rookie comment, Bobo kept his face calm, but inside he was fuming.
Stupid teammate. Now I gotta save this.
Under the table, he stomped Stone's foot, then said cheerfully:
"Hahaha, Stone, you're hilarious."
Turning to smile at him, Bobo winked out of sight of the camera.
"Their chemistry is so perfect, it's like they were born from the same womb. If these two aren't getting along, then brotherhood doesn't exist in this world!"
He even clicked his tongue in admiration, looking like the ultimate Kaijo fanboy.
Come on—when every Kaijo fan nationwide is shipping the Twin Stars, you dare say they're not on good terms? You trying to get yourself canceled?
Of course Bobo had noticed something strange between them. He watched every Kaijo game, often multiple times, praising them each time. He knew better than anyone.
But pointing it out on stream? Way too risky.
Viewers and commentators see things differently. Even a newbie like Stone could sense it, but the fans? Completely oblivious.
That's the advantage of the information gap. As a streamer, your job is to give fans what they want to see, even if it's smoke and mirrors.
Who cares?
As long as his follower count kept climbing every day, all it cost him was pretending not to notice the obvious.
Honestly, Bobo was praying for Kaijo's Twin Stars to stay together forever. He'd ride that hype train to the end.
Such was the flexible bottom line of a half-entertainment-circle streamer like him.
Stone, though, was just too inexperienced. Luckily, thanks to Bobo's quick save, he finally caught on and smiled at the camera.
"Bobo's right! I was just too nervous, hahaha."
"I also believe Kaijo's Twin Stars will never split apart. Kota and Kise will stick together all the way until graduation, when they'll join Japan's national team and bring glory to the country!"
"I'm really looking forward to that day!"