"Whoosh!"
As the basketball swished through the net, the whistle signaled the end of the team scrimmage. Haizaki Shogo had led a few substitutes to completely dominate the opposing five starters.
"The gap is unreal! Totally out of reach!"
"No kidding. They're on a whole different level. Forget defense—even just not freezing in fear is impressive."
"A monster!"
"A Generation of Miracles player! Truly inspiring!"
"Luckily, the captain is on our team!"
The five on the opposing side muttered in awe, simultaneously relieved and shocked by the power of someone at the miracle-era level.
After finishing the training, Shogo was about to head to the locker room to change when a familiar voice called out.
"Shogo-kun, could you help me for a bit?"
Shogo turned, surprised to see Sasaki from Fukuda looking sincere.
"What is it, Sasaki?"
"Shogo-kun, could you practice with me a little longer?"
"Sure!"
Without hesitation, Shogo agreed.
For Sasaki, Shogo had nothing but respect. A normal player with no innate talent, Sasaki could only rely on pure effort and sweat to achieve even slight progress.
Dribbling the ball, Shogo observed Sasaki's defense carefully. It was impressive—almost at the limit of what an ordinary player could achieve.
Sasaki had even learned to take small, quick steps to conserve energy and extend endurance.
"Shogo-kun, as our team grows stronger, the opponents we face will also get stronger. My defensive ability is relatively limited… I want to become stronger, even stronger."
I want to become stronger… even stronger.
Those words struck Shogo deeply. The desire to improve so intensely, yet limited by natural talent—it was cruel.
With the wind whistling past, Shogo broke through Sasaki's defense and launched the basketball into the net.
"Hey, Sasaki. Have you thought about what to do if you lose track of the person you're defending?"
"What?"
"What should you do if you fall behind?"
"What should I do?"
"What do you think?"
"I… I don't know!"
Perfect. Shogo's mind was satisfied. Not knowing meant that whatever method he was about to teach would become Sasaki's first choice—and easier to accept.
"I think, on the court, if you lose track of your man, and you feel you can still recover, you continue to defend. But if the opponent's skill overwhelms you, you can support our core players instead—make it easier for them to score or handle other tasks."
"What do you mean, Shogo-kun?"
Looking at Sasaki's earnest expression, Shogo could not feel impatience.
He organized his thoughts and continued.
"Think about it this way: if you can't keep up with a strong player, what's better—chasing and exhausting yourself to no effect, or helping a stronger teammate, freeing them to block or distract others?"
"Sasaki, you mean…"
"Screening, help defense, positioning, creating space… even intimidating. Anything that affects the opponent's play, assists the team, and increases the chance of winning."
"Can… I do that?"
"Why not? If you can't stop your own opponent, what other options do you have?"
"None."
"Exactly. Doing it helps your teammates; not doing it only makes things worse…"
"I understand! Thank you, Shogo-kun!"
"Yeah. When practicing this, check with the coach and follow the team's tactics. You might learn something useful."
Soon, Sasaki, already exhausted from a full match, ran out of energy completely. Supporting him in the locker room, Shogo remained silent for a long while.
The seed had been planted. Whether it would bear fruit in this barren soil depended entirely on diligence—watering and fertilizing every day.
Shogo walked out of the gym, deep in thought, until he saw Rena waiting at the school gate. Finally, a smile broke across his face.
"Shogo-kun, something on your mind?"
"Yeah. I practiced with Sasaki for half an hour… and was blown away."
"Fukuda Sasaki?"
"Yeah."
"Fukuda's always worked hard. No complaints, follow instructions, responsible, and diligent."
"That's why… practicing with him makes me feel lazy."
"Hahaha! Shogo-kun, you're not lazy. Your effort just seems more calculated, more scientific, more direct."
Shogo remained silent, brushing a strand of hair behind Rena's ear, then the two boarded the train, heading to the fencing hall for further training.
=======
At Fukuda Sogo Academy, in the coach's office.
Coach Ichiro Kudo looked at the boy in front of him and felt a deep sense of recognition. The player he had guided since middle school had risen from despair—like a weed sprouting from ashes—and now had grander ambitions.
"This is a good way to increase your abilities. But to do it, you'll have to relearn fundamental skills."
"Coach, teach me. I can endure, I'll learn it."
"Don't rush. Come to my house later. I have plenty of tapes on this. Watch them carefully, then tell me your thoughts."
"Got it, Coach! Thank you!"
"Go on."
"Goodbye, Coach!"
Watching the boy leave, excited, determined, stubborn—Coach Kudo saw the little boy from memory, tirelessly dribbling, sweating, never willing to give up.
Sasaki… you want to grow stronger, more useful. I'll help you. I'll help you rise, and help us win.
Life was strange—a seemingly ordinary person, without talent, could drive a team forward through sheer effort and stubbornness, inspiring both coach and star players.
Isn't that remarkable?
Back home, lying in bed, Shogo thought about Sasaki and Kuroko. People like them were incredible.
Their efforts were humbling, making him feel inadequate—and perhaps that was precisely their charm. That's why they were respected.
Unnoticed, a week had passed. It was Saturday again.
Fukuda had no matches tomorrow, and two weak opponents the day after—perfect opportunities for Coach Kudo to refine team coordination.
Thinking of this, Shogo drifted into sleep…