Night fell softly over Jamaica
The roads quieted, the cold air settled, and the sky stretched wide and starless—like the world itself was holding its breath. Tomorrow wasn't just another game. It wasn't just Hakuro Academy.
It was the game.
The game that would define their season.
The game everyone said they would lose.
The game Yuuto had been sharpening himself for since the moment he first saw Ryu Kazen's blue grid eyes.
And so… the night before war began.
Yuuto sat on his bed, legs crossed, the warm glow of a single lamp painting the room in gold. His basketball rested in front of him, and a roll of athletic tape lay by his knee.
He exhaled—slow, heavy—like he was letting out the last of his doubts.
His fingers trembled.
Not with fear.
With pressure.
The weight of being the starting point guard.
He tore strips of tape with careful precision.
Wrap.
Wrap.
Press.
His grip tightened around the ball.
He closed his eyes.
Ryu Kazen…
The monster everyone fears.
