The gym was eerily silent after the final whistle.
Souta Fujimura stood at half-court, his breath still heavy from the intense match against Teikou's starting lineup. His silver-white hair was drenched in sweat, sticking to his forehead.
They had lost.
But instead of frustration, an odd sense of exhilaration filled him.
Facing the Generation of Miracles at full power had shown him how far he still had to go. But for the first time, he had truly challenged them.
And that was enough to ignite a new fire inside him.
Kise walked up beside him, resting his hands on his hips. "Man, that was exhausting… Those guys are just built different."
Kuroko, standing next to them, nodded. "We improved, but they are still ahead."
Souta clenched his fists. Not for long.
After the match, Coach Shirogane gathered everyone.
"You all played well," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But this game should serve as a reminder—talent alone won't carry you. Dedication, training, and adaptability will determine whether you can reach their level."
Souta took those words to heart.
If he wanted to truly compete, he had to push himself beyond his limits.
Coach continued, "Rest up for today. Starting tomorrow, we'll be increasing your training load."
Groans erupted from some of the second-string players, but Souta welcomed the challenge.
The next morning, Souta woke up earlier than usual.
His body ached from yesterday's match, but he forced himself out of bed, stretching his stiff muscles.
I can't waste time.
Arriving at the gym before sunrise, he was surprised to see someone already there.
A familiar pink-haired girl stood near the court, clipboard in hand.
"Satsuki?"
Momoi turned, smiling. "You're up early, Souta."
He chuckled. "Could say the same for you."
"I'm always analyzing data," she said, flipping through her notes. "Your performance yesterday was interesting."
Souta tilted his head. "Interesting?"
Momoi nodded. "Your Phantom Step—the way you disappear for a moment—it's different from Kuroko's misdirection. It's closer to how Akashi manipulates awareness."
Souta frowned, intrigued.
She continued, "But your stamina drops too quickly when using it repeatedly."
Souta scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… I noticed that too."
"If you refine it, you could develop a technique unique to you," Momoi added, smiling. "I think you're on the right path."
Her words lit a spark in him.
Souta grinned. "Then I'll make it even stronger."
Momoi giggled. "I'll be watching."
When the rest of the team arrived, Coach Shirogane wasted no time.
"Today's focus is endurance and precision," he announced. "If you can't maintain performance over time, you won't last against high-level opponents."
The team groaned, but Souta welcomed it.
Drills started immediately—full-court sprints, weighted shooting drills, defensive footwork exercises.
For hours, they pushed their limits.
Souta focused on his Phantom Step, repeating the motion until his body nearly collapsed.
Each time, he tried to extend the effect—trying to move faster, smoother, more efficiently.
But it wasn't enough.
Every five or six attempts, he felt the strain.
His legs burned. His breathing became erratic.
Kise, who was practicing beside him, noticed. "Oi, don't overdo it, Souta."
Souta shook his head. "I can't afford to slow down."
Kise smirked. "Then at least work smart. Your movements are still too stiff when transitioning back."
Souta blinked. "Huh?"
Kise mimicked his technique, disappearing for an instant before reappearing smoothly.
"The key is making it seamless," Kise explained. "You force it too much, which drains your stamina."
Souta nodded slowly. So that's it.
Instead of forcing the technique, he had to flow into it.
With renewed determination, he tried again.
This time, it felt smoother.
It wasn't perfect yet, but he was getting closer.
As practice wrapped up, Souta sat on the sidelines, catching his breath.
That's when a shadow loomed over him.
He looked up—
And met Akashi's gaze.
"You're improving quickly," Akashi said, his voice calm as always.
Souta smirked. "Not enough to beat you yet."
Akashi studied him for a moment before nodding. "Not yet."
Then, without another word, he walked away.
Souta exhaled, a grin forming.
One day, he would surpass them.
And that day was getting closer.