At the very top of the pile sat a flat, lightweight box.
Kota glanced at it, tore open the wrapping—and a few photographs slid out.
"…Kise, that idiot."
Just one look was enough for him to know who sent it. Beside the photos was a small card, drawn with a chibi caricature that looked exactly like Kise.
Kota chuckled. "Hahaha… this guy must've watched Kuroko's Basketball and drew himself to match the anime. Seriously, it's almost identical."
Still laughing, he tucked the doodle into his pocket, then turned his attention to the photos.
The first one captured the Interhigh of their first year. In the final seconds, Kota had forced a defensive foul. Three free throws — two went in. Kaijō turned the game around and took the win.
Even though Kota hit the game-winner, Kise's overall performance through the tournament had been more impactful, and the Finals MVP trophy went to him.
The photo showed the original Kaijō lineup — Kise in the center, proudly holding up the championship trophy. Beside him stood Kasamatsu and Kota, one on each side. In the back, Kobori and Hayakawa were slinging their arms over each other's shoulders, grinning like a pair of lifelong bros. Takeuchi stood off to the side in his suit, face full of smug satisfaction.
That was the first of Kaijō's three consecutive championships — the beginning of their dynasty.
Kota snorted. "Pfft. Kasamatsu-senpai actually had tear stains on his face back then? How did I never notice that?"
Running his fingers over the photo, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Maybe it was because that first championship carried a special weight in his heart.
Next photo.
The Winter Cup—first year.
This time, Rakuzan had been shockingly eliminated in the semifinals by an explosive Seirin. The final matchup mirrored the anime: Kaijō vs. Seirin.
In the last moments of the Finals, Kise fouled out, leaving Kota to carry the entire team alone. Against Kagami's fierce defense, he unleashed a move he'd been saving—the up-and-under step—a pure display of basketball IQ that confused even the referees. Kaijō sealed the game.
That night, even with Kise's stellar early performance, Kota's light burned brighter. He activated his Zone in the fourth quarter and went on a scoring rampage worthy of the title "Fourth Quarter King".
He took home the Finals MVP.
In the victory photo, his placement was telling. As the tournament hero and MVP, Kota stood dead center, trophy raised high. Kise, utterly exhausted, could barely stand, leaning heavily against Kasamatsu. The distance between them and Kota unintentionally made him look even more like a lone champion. Behind them, Kobori and Hayakawa were—unsurprisingly—still doing their shoulder-buddy routine. Coach Takeuchi? Same as always—grinning like he owned the league.
Kota frowned slightly. "Tch… why does this photo scream 'lone wolf'? Makes me look like I don't believe in team play."
He scratched his chin. Sure, he had carried the team through the last quarter, but still—basketball was supposed to be a team sport.
"Well, whatever. Still a championship. And damn, that photographer really knew my best angle. Guess I'll graciously accept this one."
He smirked, flipping to the final photo.
Kaijō's third straight championship—the official start of their dynasty.
That year, Kaijō had shocked everyone. When the team trailed by one in the dying seconds, Kota chose not to take the final shot himself—or give it to Kise. Instead, he passed the torch to Yuki.
The rookie prodigy from a family of basketball players had just joined the high school league — and delivered a performance for the ages. With the weight of the team on his shoulders, Yuki rose to the challenge and nailed the game-winning shot.
Kaijō fans went wild, calling him "Kise's successor". Of course, they had no idea that the tall, 193cm first-year actually dreamed of being Kaijō's point guard.
Strictly speaking, he was Kota's successor.
When the championship photo was taken, Yuki had tried to stand quietly in the corner, but Kise and Kota each hooked an arm around him and dragged him to the center. Then they shoved the trophy into his hands.
Flustered, Yuki nervously lifted it up while the photographer snapped the shot. On either side, Kota and Kise both struck identical poses—one hand on the trophy, the other flashing a peace sign.
As for the other veterans—Kobori had graduated, leaving Hayakawa to stand alone for once. He posed like a bodybuilder, flexing both arms with a huge grin.
Takumi, meanwhile, stood stiffly beside Kota, hands clasped, his head tilted slightly toward him—as if subconsciously trying to lean closer.
Kota looked over the three championship photos, stacked them carefully, and placed them back in the box.
There was no need to get smug over three titles. Kaijō's reign might have started here—but it wasn't going to end here.
"I'll need a bigger box next time" he muttered. "At this rate, I won't have space for all the future trophies."
He nodded to himself, then set Kise's gift aside and reached for the next one.
Right away, the difference was obvious. The first box had been playful; this next one smelled like money.
"…This must be Akashi's."
He opened it—and inside lay a sleek silver necklace. The pendant was two intertwined fish, gleaming like liquid metal.
One glance told him it wasn't cheap. Then again, considering Akashi's family background, even gifting him a sports car wouldn't have been extravagant.
Kota held the necklace up to his chest, feeling the cool metal slide between his fingers.
"Yup. Definitely not a knockoff," he muttered before putting it back.
Next came two small, simple gifts—from Momoi and Kuroko. One was a black dog-shaped pin; the other, a pink bookmark.
They were modest, but somehow, these felt like the most genuine ones yet.
After all, they were still high schoolers. It made sense that the simplest gifts carried the most heart.
Next up: Murasakibara had sent an entire box of his favorite cereal bars, while Himuro had gifted a reindeer plushie and… colored contact lenses.
Kota raised the contact case, his expression turning deadpan.
"…The hell are you planning, Himuro?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "Whatever. It's the thought that counts."
After all, as the old saying went: It's not about the price—it's about the heart behind it.
Since Kota was only going to China for a month, he hadn't made a big farewell out of it. Everyone's gifts were simply birthday presents, not parting ones.
Truth be told, he'd never cared much about birthdays—even in his past life. If Kise hadn't gone snooping around, no one would've even known the date.
That's why players like Yuki, Kobori, and Kasamatsu hadn't given him anything—they didn't know. And honestly, Kota preferred it that way.
He glanced down at the remaining five unopened boxes—gifts from Aomine, Kagami, Takeuchi, Midorima, and Araki
He picked up Araki's small box, hesitated, then set it aside for last.
"Alright… let's start with Midorima. Out of this bunch, you're the most reliable one. Don't let me down."
He licked his lips and opened the long rectangular box. It was so oddly shaped he half-suspected there was a katana inside.
"Nah, that'd be something Araki would give me… not Midorima—"
He froze mid-sentence, covered his face, and sighed.
"Never mind. With Midorima, anything is possible."
Thirty seconds later, his expression stiffened.
In his hands was… a giant leek.
It was absurdly green, absurdly thick, and definitely not your average grocery-store leek. It looked almost… cultivated.
Kota stared blankly, eyes dull. "Let me guess… today's lucky item for Virgos was a leek?"
Shaking his head, he carefully tucked away the "premium" vegetable and turned to the remaining three boxes.
After a brief pause, he reached for Kagami's.
"Whoa—why is this thing so heavy?"
It was about average in size, but the weight was unreal.
He tore the wrapping open—and instantly understood.
Inside sat a 7.5-kilogram dumbbell, gleaming under the light.
SLAP!
Kota smacked his forehead. Around him, people were bustling toward their boarding gates—it was almost time for departure.
A few of them glanced at him, then at the dumbbell—and suddenly gave him approving nods.
Kota: "…"
He sighed deeply. "My bad, Kagami. Great gift. Really. But maybe I should've opened it at home."
He checked the clock—twenty minutes left until his flight to China.
Which meant…
He was about to board the plane carrying a dumbbell.
"Damn it all…"