The day's training ended, my shirt clinging with sweat and my hands raw from pounding the ball. My body was sharpening, my game cleaner with every sunrise. But there was something bigger on my mind, something that went beyond the court.
Money. Future. America.
I needed someone I trusted, someone who would actually listen. That meant only one person—Yohei Mito.
The Proposal
We walked together after school, his hands shoved in his pockets, his usual smirk plastered on his face.
"Yohei," I said suddenly, my voice more serious than usual. "I need your help."
He glanced at me sideways. "You sound like you're about to confess something crazy. What is it this time?"
"An investment," I said flatly. "I want to bet on basketball. The NBA."
Yohei actually stopped walking, staring at me. "Wait. You? Gambling? Where would you even get the money?"
I looked him straight in the eye. "My father's insurance payout. After he passed… my mother received it. I have access to it. I'm not touching all of it—just a third. About one million yen."
Yohei's eyes widened. "A third? Are you insane? That's your father's money. If you lose it, it's gone forever."
I clenched my fists. "I won't lose. I know this sounds impossible, but I can predict the NBA playoffs. Not just the champion—I can tell you every result, round by round. With that knowledge, we can make more money than you've ever imagined."
He frowned, skepticism heavy in his gaze. "Predict the future? Come on, Hanamichi, this isn't a manga."
"Then let me prove it," I said firmly.
The Predictions
I pulled out a small notebook from my bag. Inside, written neatly, were the brackets for the 1990 playoffs.
"Listen," I said. "First round."
I tapped the page as I listed them:
East, First Round
Detroit Pistons over Indiana Pacers.
Chicago Bulls over Cleveland Cavaliers.
Philadelphia 76ers over Cleveland Cavaliers.
Boston Celtics over New York Knicks.
West, First Round
Los Angeles Lakers over Houston Rockets.
Portland Trail Blazers over Dallas Mavericks.
San Antonio Spurs over Denver Nuggets.
Phoenix Suns upset the Utah Jazz.
I spoke with absolute certainty, every name rolling off my tongue like I had already watched the games.
Yohei stared, his usual smirk gone. "You're way too confident. You're telling me every single one of these is guaranteed?"
"Yes," I said. "Every one. If I'm wrong, you'll never hear me bring this up again. But if I'm right, you'll talk to your parents. Convince them to help us place the big bet before the second round, when the odds are still high. That's when we maximize the payout."
Yohei's Doubt
Yohei rubbed his temples, pacing in frustration. "Hanamichi… do you even realize what you're asking? This isn't pocket change. If my parents hear I want to gamble a million yen, they'll kick me out of the house."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "I know it's crazy. But I also know the results. You've seen how much I've changed, right? The training, the focus, the way I've started thinking ahead. This isn't the old Hanamichi talking. This is me being serious about my future."
Yohei looked at me long and hard. For a moment, silence. Then he let out a long sigh.
"…Damn it. Alright. I'll talk to them. But I swear, if this backfires, you're explaining it yourself."
"Fair enough," I said. "But tell them this—if every result I predicted for the first round comes true, then they should let us place the big bet on the champion. Trust me. We'll win."
That Night
Later, Yohei sat with his parents in the small living room. His father, a stern man with tired eyes from long shifts, sipped tea while his mother folded laundry at the table.
"Well, Yohei?" his father asked. "What's this about?"
Yohei shifted uncomfortably. "It's… Hanamichi. He has a plan. He wants to bet on basketball. The NBA playoffs."
His mother frowned. "Betting? That boy's always been reckless. Why would we risk money on something like that?"
Yohei raised his hands quickly. "I know, I know. But listen—he's changed. You've seen it too. He trains every morning now, he's focused, serious. He told me the entire first round of results already. Every single matchup. He swears he knows what will happen."
His parents exchanged skeptical looks.
"Why not wait and see then?" his father finally said. "If he's right about all of them, maybe we'll talk again. Until then, no money leaves this house."
Yohei exhaled slowly. That was more than he expected.
His mother added softly, "That boy… he's been different lately. More mature. If this is his doing, then maybe it's worth watching. But don't expect miracles."
Yohei bowed his head. "Understood."
Later that night, lying in bed, Yohei muttered under his breath, half to himself, half to the shadows:
"You better be right, Hanamichi… because if you are, everything changes."