The Seirin High training camp was in full swing. Everyone was sore, loud, and focused – until something unexpected happened.
Out of nowhere, Shūtoku High checked into the same hotel.
At first, both teams just stared at each other across the lobby in disbelief. But what came next was even more surprising – they decided to hold a series of joint training matches. The idea was simple: if they pushed each other hard enough, both teams would grow stronger.
Still, something felt… off.
Seirin's players noticed it right away.
The ever-curious Koganei Shinji finally said what everyone else was thinking. "Uh, guys… why aren't you at full strength? Where's your sniper guy, the dude with the eyes, and that really tall one?"
Coach Masaaki Nakatani chuckled, completely unbothered. "Oh, them? They've been training in Okinawa for the past few weeks. Don't worry – they'll be joining us soon."
Aida Riko nearly dropped her clipboard. "Wait, what?! What could they possibly be doing there? Don't tell me… are they training with that school?!"
Kagami frowned, his brain running in overdrive. "Which team? Oi, I get it… Huh! No, I don't get it! They can't be training with that Onitsuka school! Didn't those guys roll you over not so long ago?!"
The rest of Seirin perked up immediately. Everyone wanted to know how that even happened, but Shūtoku's players didn't seem particularly shaken.
Coach Nakatani sighed and decided not to hide it. "Well, to tell the truth… I'm a bit of a fan of their head coach – Erik Kuhlmann. You don't get the chance to contact people like that every day. Through their assistant coach, Daniel Weiss, I managed to get in touch with Kuhlmann by email. We've been exchanging notes for a while now. That's how this started."
Kōichi Kawahara, one of Seirin's first-year players and a total newcomer to basketball, raised his hand. "So, uh… who are these guys? Like, celebrities or something?"
Before anyone could answer, Teppei Kiyoshi nearly jumped out of his seat. "HUH – that Erik Kuhlmann? The guy who made those deep March Madness runs?! He's in Japan?! Why didn't anyone tell me!?"
Izuki Shun, trying to process it all, asked, "You know about them?"
Kiyoshi looked offended. "You don't?! What kind of basketball fans are you?!"
Hyūga Junpei groaned. "Hey, calm down. I've got no idea who they are either."
Kiyoshi turned on him like he'd committed blasphemy. "You too?! I thought we were on the same wavelength! Listen – Erik Kuhlmann's a legendary college coach from the U.S. After finishing his run with Pasadena, I expected him to go to the NBA, not coach some school in Japan!"
The realization dawned on Seirin – even on Kagami-idiot.
"So he's that big?!" they all shouted together.
Even Riko looked stunned now, finally understanding the magnitude of the name.
Then Nakatani added, almost dramatically, "Not just Kuhlmann. Their skills coach – that Daniel Weiss. Teppei-kun, you were right."
Riko turned sharply to Kiyoshi. "Okay, explain. Who the hell is Daniel Weiss?"
Riko knew her NBA better than many guys. But she didn't know much about American college basketball.
Kiyoshi leaned forward, eyes wide with admiration. "He was Kuhlmann's star player – probably the best he ever coached. Six-nine, all-around scoring monster. Could shoot, post, pass – everything. He would've gone first round in the NBA draft if not for that injury during the Elite Eight. Pasadena might've gone all the way that year. He played against John Wall, DeMarcus Cousins, Gordon Hayward, Paul George, Anthony Davis… you name it. In middle school, I used to study his tapes – the guy was insane."
Nakatani smiled, proud. "And now he's training our boys. This Winter Cup, we might actually take it all – unless…"
He trailed off.
"Unless what?" asked everyone at once – Seirin and Shūtoku alike.
Nakatani's tone turned grim. "Unless he shows up."
"Who?"
"The Fortress," he said quietly. Then, after a pause, added, "Kids these days call him the Slamurai."
Riko, usually calm but sharp-eyed, crossed her arms. "That can't be right," she said. "Everyone believes he's staying in the U.S.!"
Kagami frowned. "Hold on… another mystery legend? How many of these guys are hiding out here? And what, he's so strong that both of you are shitting bricks?"
Even Kuroko, normally quiet and detached, tilted his head. "I don't know who they're talking about either," he admitted softly.
Junpei groaned. "Kuroko, come on. Kagami, fine – you just got here from the States. But you played at Teikō! You must've heard about him."
Kuroko shook his head, expression blank. "No. I just liked playing basketball. I didn't follow other players. We had Momoi for that kind of thing," he said in his usual calm tone.
That's when Miyaji, Shūtoku's small forward, finally stepped in. "They're talking about Rui Hachimura," he said. "Right now, he's probably the best player in Japan. But yeah, I thought he was in the States too."
"Everyone did," Coach Nakatani added, his tone grave. "But Coach Kuhlmann told me otherwise. He's got deep connections in American basketball. Apparently, Hachimura hasn't finalized any deals with U.S. high schools yet. So as of now, there's a fifty-fifty chance he'll come back."
A low murmur spread across both teams. The veterans exchanged uneasy looks. The younger players shifted, unsure what that meant.
Only Kagami broke the silence. "I still don't get it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "How strong is this guy?"
Now even Kuroko was listening closely.
Riko stepped forward, taking control. "He appeared out of nowhere last year," she explained. "Didn't even play basketball seriously before high school – he was a baseball player. But as a first-year, he led Meisei to the Winter Cup title. They beat Rakuzan – and not by luck. He dominated."
Coach Nakatani nodded. "And that's not all. This year, Japan's U17 national team played the United States and lost 122–38."
The room went quiet.
"Japan sent its best. The U.S. didn't. They had just one elite player, Jason Tatum. Out of Japan's thirty-eight points, Hachimura scored fourteen, with four rebounds, two steals, and two blocks. American scouts noticed immediately. Since then, he's been in the States – training, attending camps, playing exhibitions. He was invited to the Jordan Classic and now he's at the Nike Basketball Academy."
Junpei's eyes widened. "The U.S. team was that strong? Then Kagami – why aren't you dominating, moron?"
Kagami shrugged. "I never played organized ball there. Only on the streets," he said without hesitation.
Kuroko blinked, processing. "So if he didn't play in middle school, it makes sense I've never heard of him," he said quietly. "I would've remembered someone like that."
Koganei scratched his head. "If that guy's so special, could he beat the Generation of Miracles?"
Shinsuke Kimura answered before anyone else could. "That's exactly why every top school's been scrambling to recruit one of the Miracles," he said. "Nobody knows the answer. On one side, you've got the Miracles – dominant since middle school, experienced, ruthless. On the other – Hachimura, a raw monster who picked up basketball and destroyed the entire high school scene in a single year. The only way we'll ever know who's stronger is if he comes back."
Kagami's lips curved into a fierce grin. "Heh. Now that's exciting," he said, eyes burning with energy. "That guy better come back – 'cause I can't wait to face him!"