Miyamoto Tokima led everyone to the front of a restaurant.
Daiki Aomine stared at the yakiniku place in front of him, practically drooling.
"Yakiniku! Yakiniku!"
Ignoring everyone else, he rushed straight inside.
Satsuki Momoi looked at Daiki Aomine helplessly, then turned back with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry about that. Aominei's always like this."
Miyamoto Tokima nodded.
"It's fine. I'm used to it."
He led everyone into the restaurant as well.
After choosing their ingredients, they started talking about what had happened earlier that day.
"I've gotta say, Midorima, your threes are way too accurate," Daiki Aomine said bluntly. "You're the second most accurate shooter I've ever seen."
Shintaro Midorima paused for a moment, then pushed his glasses up with a finger.
"I merely obey the will of fate."
"…Then who's the most accurate you've seen?"
Rather than responding to the praise, he was clearly more focused on that last statement.
After all, he couldn't accept the idea that someone else might be more accurate than him.
"Obviously it's Tokima," Daiki Aomine said. "He's the most accurate shooter I've ever seen."
He slung an arm around Miyamoto Tokima's shoulder and gave his chest a firm pat.
Shintaro Midorima didn't respond, but a competitive spark flared up inside him.
He had to find a chance to compete with him.
"By the way, is Murasakibara always like this?" Satsuki Momoi asked, sounding puzzled.
Everyone turned to look at Atsushi Murasakibara.
He was holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, his head turned toward the grilled meat at the neighboring table.
A hungry, almost feral expression was plastered across his face, saliva slowly dripping from his wide-open mouth.
The customers at the next table noticed his strange stare and immediately stood up and fled, shouting "Pervert!" as they ran.
...
Everyone stared at Atsushi Murasakibara in silence, their expressions clearly saying they wanted no association with him.
"He's only like this when he sees food," Seijuro Akashi explained calmly, stopping the misunderstanding from going any further.
"Speaking of which, Akashi, you're amazing," Satsuki Momoi said. "You became vice-captain as soon as you joined the club."
"That's not true at all!" Daiki Aomine immediately cut in. "The vice-captain spot was supposed to be Tokima's, but that idiot said he didn't want it!!"
He was clearly still hung up on that moment, his face full of frustration.
Satsuki Momoi was stunned.
She had assumed Seijuro Akashi had always been the choice, never imagining that Miyamoto Tokima had been the first pick.
"That's not it," Miyamoto Tokima said casually. "I just think Akashi's more capable than me, so I didn't want the vice-captain position."
Then, with a crooked grin and a sideways glance at Daiki Aomine, he added in a teasing tone,
"After all, only capable people should be vice-captain, right… substitute player Daiki Aomine?"
With a few clever words, he smoothly shifted the topic.
Daiki Aomine took the bait immediately.
"That's only temporary! One day I'll definitely be a starter!"
"I'll be waiting," Miyamoto Tokima said with a quiet laugh.
"Your grilled meat is here!"
The waiter arrived with a platter of sizzling yakiniku.
As they ate and joked around, the distance between them gradually disappeared.
"Murasakibara, that's mine!! Eat what's on your own plate!!"
Daiki Aomine clamped his chopsticks tightly around the meat on his plate, refusing to let Atsushi Murasakibara steal it.
"C'mon, Aomine-chin, don't be so stingy. Let me have some," Atsushi said lazily.
He grabbed it outright and stuffed it into his mouth.
"My meat!! Spit it out! Spit it out!!"
Daiki Aomine grabbed Atsushi Murasakibara's mouth and tried to pry it open.
"O-once it's in my mouth… it's mine," Atsushi said, completely slurring his words.
Seijuro Akashi and Shintaro Midorima quietly watched the two of them bicker, calmly eating the grilled meat on their own plates.
"Tokima, your grilled meat smells really good," Atsushi Murasakibara suddenly said, leaning forward to stare at Tokima's plate.
He didn't snatch it—after all, Miyamoto Tokima was treating them, and he still respected that.
Miyamoto Tokima twitched, black lines practically forming on his forehead.
"Boss, bring us a few more plates of meat," he called out.
"Coming right up," the owner replied.
After ordering several more plates, Miyamoto Tokima turned back to Atsushi Murasakibara.
"There. That should be enough for you."
"Thanks, Tokima," Atsushi said.
Knowing more meat was on the way, Atsushi finally stopped stealing and sat quietly in his seat, waiting.
Satsuki Momoi watched the five of them laughing together and felt her own mood lift.
She liked this atmosphere—it made her feel relaxed and warm inside.
...
After finishing their feast, everyone went their separate ways and headed home.
"Dad, I'm back," Miyamoto Tokima said as he took off his shoes.
"Welcome home. How was school today?" his father asked with a warm smile.
The family Miyamoto Tokima had transmigrated into was extremely wealthy, though most of their assets were in China and the United States.
Their holdings in Japan were modest by comparison. They were only living here because his father had business to handle.
"It was fine."
Miyamoto Tokima briefly told his father about what happened at school, then went straight to his room to relax.
Watching his son's retreating back, his father nodded in satisfaction.
His son had made new friends in Japan—at least he wasn't slacking off alone every day anymore.
If his son liked basketball, then he would fully support it. Anything was better than endless loafing.
...
A few days later.
Inside the gym's training court.
"First Team, assemble!"
the assistant coach shouted.
"The middle school league preliminaries are coming up soon."
"From now on, the coach will be personally training you."
"Miyamoto, what kind of person do you think the coach will be?" Daiki Aomine whispered to Miyamoto Tokima.
"Oh, right—you guys haven't met the coach yet," Shuzo Nijimura said, turning around.
Suddenly, a hand landed on Daiki Aomine's shoulder.
The owner of that hand spoke.
"Is that so? Then I suppose I should introduce myself properly."
"My name is Kozo Shirogane. Nice to meet you, Aomine."
Daiki Aomine was clearly startled. He froze for a moment before asking,
"You know me?"
Kōzō Shirogane laughed.
"Of course. I know every student here."
Miyamoto Tokima looked at Kōzō Shirogane quietly.
In the original story, Kōzō Shirogane was an extremely responsible coach who often observed everyone's performance from the second floor.
To be honest, if Kōzō Shirogane hadn't fallen ill, the Generation of Miracles might never have split apart.
After he became ill, the assistant coach naturally took over.
Although that assistant coach noticed the internal problems within the Generation of Miracles, his attempts to fix them were blocked by the school board.
The board demanded that the Generation of Miracles play no matter what, insisting that heroes had to stay on the court.
That decision only accelerated their downfall, until the five eventually went their separate ways.