A week later.
The sky was cloudless, the sun blazing high above, and the air carried the unmistakable heat of midsummer.
A high-end sedan bearing the Akashi Family crest glided smoothly through the city streets, its polished windows reflecting the ever-shifting urban scenery.
Inside the car, Akashi reclined lazily against the back seat, his gaze drifting out the window as he casually observed the bustling streets outside.
It had been over ten years since he arrived in this world.
This kind of life—luxurious, orderly, and distant—had long since seeped into his bones, as natural to him as breathing.
"Young Master, where would you like to go today?" the driver asked respectfully, one hand steady on the steering wheel.
Akashi did not turn his head. His voice floated out calmly, almost absent-mindedly.
"I want to buy a pair of basketball shoes. Find a shoe store."
Lately, perhaps due to his growth, he had begun to feel that his current pair was slightly tight.
Not long after, the car came to a smooth stop in front of a newly opened sports shoe specialty store.
"Young Master, we've arrived. This store just opened recently. The selection is very comprehensive—most mainstream brands are available."
Akashi nodded, opened the door, and stepped out.
"Wait here. I'll go in alone."
"Yes, Young Master."
The driver inclined his head and said nothing more.
The moment Akashi entered the store, his eyes narrowed slightly as he adjusted to the indoor lighting.
The interior was spacious and modern, with rows of neatly arranged shoe racks. The air was filled with the mixed scent of new leather and synthetic rubber.
Unlike the single-brand stores he remembered, this was a multi-brand specialty shop, its selection dazzling and complete.
Under normal circumstances, by the Akashi Family's standards, he could have simply raised a hand and said, "Send one of every style to the Akashi estate."
Simple. Efficient. Appropriate for his status.
But he had never liked that approach.
Despite having more than enough money, that kind of "I want them all" behavior always struck him as strangely awkward.
Almost… childish.
He preferred to browse, to compare, to choose—like an ordinary person.
So he walked slowly through the store, his eyes sharp and deliberate as he examined each pair of basketball shoes in turn.
It didn't take long.
His judgment had always been precise.
In the end, he selected three pairs.
One classic model.
One featuring the latest technology.
And one limited-edition collaboration.
At the counter, he paid with a swipe of his card, his movements clean and decisive.
Carrying three shopping bags emblazoned with different brand logos, Akashi turned and headed for the exit.
Just as he was about to step outside—
The door opened.
Two figures entered at the same time.
One tall.
One short.
"I'm exhausted… Why is this place so far away? It'd be great if it were closer to Kainan." The shorter one complained, panting.
The taller figure didn't even turn his head.
"Who told you to insist on coming?"
"Hey, don't be so heartless!" the shorter one protested. "Captain Maki, I came specifically to accompany you!"
At that exact moment, Akashi passed between them.
Their shoulders barely missed one another.
Akashi cast a brief glance their way, his eyes lingering on the taller man for less than half a second before moving on.
He heard their voices.
He saw their faces.
And he recognized them.
Yet his expression remained perfectly calm—no ripple, no flicker of emotion—just as if he had passed by two ordinary strangers.
They crossed paths like wind brushing treetops, leaving no trace behind.
Only after Akashi's figure disappeared outside did the taller man suddenly stop.
He slowly turned around, his gaze passing through the glass doors and settling on the receding back.
"Hm?" the shorter one noticed and tilted his head. "Captain Maki, what are you looking at?"
The taller man was silent for two seconds before withdrawing his gaze.
"…Nothing," he said quietly. "Just felt that the person just now had a different kind of presence."
"Different?" The shorter one scratched his head, thinking hard. "You mean that guy with the shopping bags? He looked pretty normal to me."
"Let's go."
The taller man turned and continued into the store.
"Hey—Captain, wait for me!" the shorter one hurried after him.
Outside.
Akashi got into the car without pausing, and the vehicle pulled away smoothly.
He had heard their conversation clearly.
Shinichi Maki.
The name fell like a pebble into the depths of his memory, stirring faint ripples.
If he wasn't mistaken, that man was Shinichi Maki of Kainan High School.
But to Akashi, they were nothing more than passersby he happened to encounter on the street.
Vroooom—
A sharp engine roar suddenly tore through the street.
A motorcycle shot past the car like a gust of wind, leaving only a fleeting afterimage behind.
Akashi's gaze lifted slightly, following the silhouette through the window.
Long hair whipping in the wind.
A crimson vest.
Flamboyant jeans.
One foot pressing down hard on the accelerator.
Wild. Unrestrained.
…Familiar.
His eyebrows twitched faintly as his eyes followed the figure until it disappeared around the corner.
"That direction… Shohoku High School."
Leaning back against the seat, Akashi lowered his gaze.
A strange premonition rose quietly in his chest.
As if a storm was slowly gathering over Shohoku.
But his expression did not change.
It had nothing to do with him.
And he had no intention of interfering—main cast or not.
Ryonan High School – Basketball Gym
Despite it being a holiday, the basketball gym was unusually lively.
Thump—thump—thump—
The rhythmic pounding of basketballs echoed through the spacious gym as sweat and the smell of rubber filled the air.
Sendo advanced with the ball, his steps steady and composed.
A sudden change of direction.
A subtle shoulder feint.
He slipped past the first defender with ease, stopped abruptly, turned, and shook off the second—
Then leaped.
Clang!
The rim vibrated violently as the ball slammed through the net.
"Sendo's getting scary strong," Koshino Hiroaki said from the sidelines, hands on his knees as he panted. His eyes, however, were bright. "This year… we might actually make Nationals."
"Yeah." Uozumi Jun nodded beneath the hoop, looking up at the settling net.
Uekusa wiped his sweat and glanced around.
"By the way… isn't it strange? I haven't seen Captain Akashi at all today."
Ikegami, tying his shoelaces, replied casually, "It's a holiday. Taking a break once in a while isn't abnormal."
"True…" Uekusa nodded. "Still, it feels like something's missing."
Everyone felt it.
Since Akashi joined the team, the gym lights had almost never gone dark on holidays.
That relentless persistence weighed on everyone—pressuring them, suffocating them—yet never allowing anyone to slack off.
It had become habit.
Then Ikegami spoke again, lowering his voice slightly.
"By the way… have you heard? Coach went to find Fukuda."
The name drew everyone's attention at once.
"…Fukuda," Koshino murmured. "That guy's coming back?"
"Not sure," Ikegami shrugged. "But I heard it was Captain Akashi's suggestion."
"Oh?" Koshino raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "If it's Akashi's call, then it should be fine."
He nodded thoughtfully.
"We do need a power forward. Fukuda's impulsive, but his skills are real."
"What're you talking about?" Sendo walked over, spinning the ball on one hand.
Uekusa smiled. "We were talking about Akashi. Haven't seen him all day."
"Akashi?" Sendo's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "That guy… never follows the script."
"Oh, you're all here!"
A low voice suddenly echoed from the gym entrance.
Everyone turned.
A familiar silhouette stood there—both familiar and distant.
"…Fukuda."
Fukuda Kicchou.
Standing at the doorway, fingers unconsciously gripping the doorframe, his sharp eyes swept across the familiar faces.
Embarrassment. Nostalgia. Unease.
All tangled together in his chest.
Coach Taoka's words echoed in his mind.
"The reason I'm asking you back… is Akashi's idea."
"He's the current captain. Report to him directly."
Akashi?
Fukuda frowned, searching the crowd.
Sendo stepped forward first, smiling gently.
"Welcome back, Fukuda."
"Welcome back," Koshino added, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Teammates again," Ikegami said casually.
"Your locker's still there," Uekusa laughed. "Didn't even change it."
"If you're free, join practice," Uozumi said bluntly.
Fukuda hesitated, then asked, "You're… not the captain anymore?"
Uozumi shrugged.
"Nope. Captain's Akashi."
"…Who?" Fukuda frowned.
Uekusa answered without hesitation.
"A first-year. Joined this year."
"What?!"
Fukuda froze.
"A first-year… captain?" His voice rose involuntarily.
Everyone else nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Koshino patted his shoulder.
"We felt the same at first. You'll understand once you meet him."
Ikegami's tone was serious.
"He's not normal. He's a monster."
Fukuda sneered, pride flaring.
A first-year giving orders?
Fine.
He would see for himself.