The week following Takuma Senda's visit was a whirlwind of excitement and activity. Haruki
I was beginning to notice that the environment was changing faster than I could process. The internships are
As training intensified, training sessions included double sessions, and rumors about the Tournament of
Autumn grew in every corner of the school.
The halls were covered with posters promoting the event. "Come on, hawks!"
"Fight for school pride!", "Let's crush Seiryuu High!" read the banners that
hung on the walls. Haruki watched them with a mixture of excitement and vertigo.
-Are you getting used to being part of this? Riku asked as they both walked towards the
gymnasium.
"Not yet," Haruki replied honestly. It is as if each day is a new phase of the
game, and I have no idea about the rules.
"That's real life, Nakamura," Riku said, laughing. You improvise and learn as you go.
At the gym, Coach Daichi had bad news.
-The Seiryuu Institute, our opponents in the first match in the tournament, has changed its lineup.
They have a new starting point guard. A transfer student.
-Who is it? Souta asked, his arms folded.
Daichi looked at his notebook.
-Ren Takeda. The son of the former national coach.
The silence was instantaneous.
"They say he's a prodigy," added the coach. Fast, technical, and cold as ice. Haruki, you
you are going to study it. I entrust you with its analysis.
Haruki swallowed. The name Ren Takeda was no stranger to him. I had seen it in forums, videos and
minor tournaments. A precocious talent who played as if he had ten more years of experience.
"Understood," he replied, trying to sound confident.
Over the next few days, Haruki immersed himself in recordings. He watched every movement of
Ren: how he distributed the ball, how he read the defense, his running pace, his habits before
pass. It was filled with notes, diagrams and simulations.
One night, while reviewing plays on the club's tablet, Ami sat next to him.
"Is that Ren?"
Haruki nodded.
-What do you think?
She watched the video for a few seconds.
-It is very technical. But he does not improvise. It has defined patterns. If you manage to read them...
"We can make him stumble over his own plan," Haruki added.
They both looked at each other. For a moment, the outside world disappeared.
"You're getting better," she said softly. Not only as a player. As a person too.
Haruki blushed. He looked away from the video.
-It's thanks to all of you. And you... above all.
Ami did not answer. But his silence said more than a thousand words.
Ren Takeda's analysis became Haruki's obsession throughout the week. Wore
his notebook everywhere, even to the cafeteria. He drew diagrams, calculated distances of
reaction, and marked areas where Ren used to throw his most dangerous passes. He seemed to be
solving a puzzle, one that could decide his future in the tournament.
"If this were an RPG, Ren would be the middle boss," he told Riku between sips of juice.
-And you would be the protagonist?
-No. The strategist who devises the plan to defeat him," Haruki replied with a half-smile.
That afternoon, in training, Haruki presented his report to the coach and the team.
-Ren changes his pattern every third quarter. Go from playing at half speed to accelerating in the
Counterattacks. He doesn't improvise much, but he repeats two types of dribbles before throwing. Yes
We blocked those spaces, we forced him to play uncomfortably.
Daichi checked the notes, nodded, and then looked at the group.
-We are going to test this strategy in Friday's drill. If it works, it will be our base plan
for the tournament.
The team muttered in approval. Even Souta was curious to see if "the otaku's analysis"
he could resist on the field.
Friday came quickly. The practice was intense. The substitutes had to simulate Seiryuu, with a
player imitating Ren. Haruki directed the defensive movements like a field general.
Every pass, every pressure, was coordinated.
Halfway through the training, the drill stopped.
-Not bad! Daichi shouted. This is the basketball I want to see.
Haruki gasped, but his mind was still processing.
"It's not enough," he said quietly. Ren is not just technique. It is unpredictable under pressure.
After everyone left, Haruki was left practicing alone. Ami appeared, like so many others
times, sitting on the bench.
-Are you going to wear down the ground with so many shots?
"Maybe I can see what I'm missing," he said, throwing another ball.
"You lack nothing. You're just afraid of failing," she replied, bluntly.
Haruki stopped.
"Do you think so?"
-I know. Because I feel it sometimes, too. Only you have the courage to face it every day.
Haruki looked down. Then he nodded.
-Then I'm going to continue training. Not out of fear. But to defeat it.
Ami smiled.
"That's what I wanted to hear.
The following Monday, Takuma returned to the gym. The former player had followed the progress of the
team at a distance, but now he was there to see the execution of the plan against Seiryuu in time
real.
-Ready to face a genius? He asked, as he walked alongside Haruki on the empty court.
"I'm not a manga hero," Haruki said, almost jokingly. I just have a bunch of schematics and a
little determination.
Takuma stopped and looked at him seriously.
-Heroes are not born with powers. They build them step by step. Like you.
Haruki felt the weight of those words. It was not empty flattery. It was recognition.
"I saw you play, boy. You're not fast. You don't jump higher than the others. But you understand the game. And
that is much more dangerous.
That night, at home, Haruki went over everything once more. Ren Takeda, Seiryuu's line-up, the
blocks, mixed defenses, changes of pace. At some point he fell asleep on
his notes.
The day of the match arrived. The autumn tournament began. The pavilion was full, with teams of
different schools, coaches, local media and fans. It was a new world for Haruki. One
where his heart beat faster than ever.
Before the match, the team met in the locker room. They all looked tense. Riku pressed the
Fists. Souta closed his eyes, concentrated.
Daichi gave a short speech.
-I don't want them to win by chance. I want them to win because they prepared better. Haruki, it's you
moment. Take defensive control.
Haruki nodded, his heart pounding like a drum.
On the court, Seiryuu looked intimidating. Ren Takeda had a cold presence. Your Movements
they were soft, almost elegant. The match began.
The first minutes were balanced. Haruki executed his plan with precision. He anticipated the
Ren's passes, signaled adjustments, kept the defense compact.
But in the second quarter, Ren changed the pace. He accelerated, and his companions followed him. Seiryuu
took a small advantage.
During the timeout, Haruki took a deep breath.
"He's going to shoot down the right on the next play," he said. He pauses every time he looks for that
address.
Daichi looked at him. Riku too.
"Then we cut that road," said the coach.
The next play, just as Haruki predicted, Ren attempted a long pass down the right.
Intercepted.
The team came back. Haruki did not lead with shouts or gestures. He led with vision. With clarity. With
strategy.
In the last minute, with the score tied, Haruki called for a special play. One that had
designed the night before. Unpublished.
-Are you sure? Souta asked.
"Trust," Haruki replied.
The ball moved. Riku feigned. Souta blocked. Haruki, surprisingly free in the corner,
he shot a three-pointer.
He scored.
The audience roared.
Won.
After the final whistle, Haruki felt everything go out for an instant. The noise, the screams, the
bustle... everything was blurred. I could only feel his agitated breathing, the deafening heartbeat in his
ears and the echo of the ball going through the net.
Souta was the first to reach it. He said nothing. He just slapped him the back and
He pushed towards the center, where the others were already celebrating. Riku hugged him between jumps and
screams.
-That was legendary! Amazing, Nakamura!
Haruki, still stunned, just nodded. He looked at the stands. Ami was standing, clapping her hands with a smile
that he didn't need words.
In the dressing room, the atmosphere was a mixture of joy, tiredness and euphoria. Daichi entered with his
expression, but everyone noticed the faint gleam in his eyes.
"We didn't win by luck," he said. We won because we did everything we trained. And Nakamura...
He paused, looking straight at him. You've shown that basketball isn't always played with
muscles.
Applause erupted. Haruki smiled, uncomfortable, but happy.
That evening, the team was invited to a small celebration organized by the school. Nothing
luxurious, but enough to share pizzas, soft drinks and anecdotes.
In a corner of the gym, Haruki sat next to Ami.
-Did you like the match?
"It was like watching a good episode," she answered. With an unexpected but perfect final play.
-Thank you for staying until the end.
Ami shrugged.
-I always will.
Haruki looked at her silently for a moment. I was about to say something else, but then the director of the
Colegio approached and took the floor from an improvised microphone.
-Congratulations, team. And pay attention: in the next round they will face Hoshikawa High. Other Weight
heavy. But with this level of play... they have more than possibilities.
The name "Hoshikawa" caused several players to exchange nervous glances.
-What do we know about them? Riku asked later, as the group gathered to pick up.
"They are famous for their close defense," replied Souta. And its captain is... a certain Yuji Kanzaki.
Haruki raised his head.
"Kanzaki... I've heard that name.
Ami nodded.
-They say that he has never lost a one-on-one.
Haruki felt the weight of reality return. They won, yes. But the road was just beginning.
And inside, something told him that the real challenge was yet to come.
That night, Haruki walked alone through the park on his way home. The sky was clear, and the breeze was clear
The cool of autumn made his skin crawl. I still had in my mind the image of the ball crossing the air in
slow motion before getting into the basket.
But I was also thinking about Kanzaki.
At home, he locked himself in his room and turned on his laptop. He typed "Yuji Kanzaki
school basketball" and an avalanche of results appeared: statistics, videos, articles,
interviews. In all of them, Kanzaki appeared with an imperturbable expression, as if each
The match was just another task.
Haruki clicked on one of Hoshikawa's recent matches. He observed the movements of the
Rival captain: fast, accurate, without waste. It wasn't just physical. Kanzaki read the game as a
open book. And he dominated.
"It's like facing myself, but ten years ahead," he murmured.
On Sunday morning, he went to the gym before it officially opened. He practiced in silence.
He was not looking to perfect a shot. He just needed to find his center.
By mid-morning, Ami appeared.
"I knew you would be here," she said, leaning against the doorframe.
-I couldn't sit still.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," she warned.
"It's just that Kanzaki... it's something else.
"And so do you," she said, coming closer. Don't compare yourself. Prepare.
She sat next to him while he drank water.
"Are you afraid too?" Haruki asked.
Ami nodded.
-But not from the rival. Of the moment. That something big is coming... and not ready.
Haruki closed his eyes.
-Then we will have to prepare. Together.
During the week, the team analyzed every Hoshikawa game. Haruki led the sessions
tactics with a mixture of concentration and passion. Even Souta listened to him attentively.
"This Kanzaki boy," Haruki said in front of the group, "is not defeated with force. It is won with strategy.
If we follow his times, he will destroy us. But if we take him out of his zone...
-Is it breaking? Riku asked.
-No one is invincible. You just have to find the crack.
At the end of each day, Haruki wrote in his black-covered notebook. Not just statistics.
Emotions. Fears. Loose thoughts. It was his way of not getting lost in the chaos.
On Friday, as he was putting on his shoes before leaving, he saw a loose leaf between the pages. Era
a drawing that Ami had made weeks before: a chibi Haruki throwing a ball, with a cape
superhero.
Smiled.
On the next page, he wrote:
"Chapter 3: The Strategist vs. the Emperor."
And he knew he was ready to face it