Finally, it was time.
Kaijō High and Tōō Academy were about to face each other in the quarterfinals of the Interhigh Tournament.
The stadium buzzed with energy – packed stands, camera flashes, and restless murmurs from the crowd. Everyone knew what this meant. For the first time, two members of the Generation of Miracles would meet on the same court.
Among the thousands of fans, Seirin High had joined the audience as well.
They'd just returned from their grueling training camp – sore, tired, but motivated. Their spirits were high after days of progress and endless drills. Yet, there was a shadow behind that optimism.
They had lost every single practice match against Shūtoku High.
And not just lost – they'd been crushed, especially after Shūtoku's cornerstone trio returned from Okinawa.
The difference was staggering. Shūtoku's playstyle had changed completely. Only one thing remained the same – their love for three-pointers. Everything else felt new: faster, sharper, more calculated.
The entire Seirin roster couldn't help but wonder what had happened to them during that mysterious training in Okinawa.
No one was more unsettled than Kagami Taiga.
He knew he'd gotten stronger – his jumping power had reached new heights, his athleticism sharper than ever. But then he'd had that talk with Midorima.
It started as a casual conversation between rivals. It ended with Kagami realizing something uncomfortable.
Midorima had calmly pointed out a fatal flaw in his game: "You have almost no control over your left arm. In the air, you're predictable. Once your opponent reads your right-hand drive, they already know how you'll finish."
Kagami had been thankful – but it stung. He thought he'd been evolving. Instead, he discovered he was still one-dimensional.
But what truly bothered him wasn't what Midorima said – it was how different he seemed.
Midorima had changed. His confidence was quieter, more focused. His movements were calmer, but heavier – like a man who'd seen something he couldn't unsee.
Even stranger, Midorima wasn't carrying any of his trademark lucky items. For the first time, he looked bare – and uneasy.
When Kagami asked, Midorima told him about Okinawa. About the foreigners.
Kagami had already seen the footage before – the towering figures, the precision, the raw, disciplined aggression. They looked strong, sure. But the way Midorima described them made his stomach tighten.
"They're still growing," Midorima had said, eyes distant. "By the time the Winter Cup comes… we'll be facing something completely different."
Kagami hadn't known what to say then.
Now, sitting in the stands with his teammates, watching Kaijō and Tōō prepare to clash, he felt that same unease creep up again – that sense that the world of Japanese high school basketball was changing faster than anyone could keep up.
Suddenly, Kagami felt a sharp jab to his ribs.
"Guh—!" He almost jumped up, ready to strangle the little ghost-like piece of shit who'd just hit him, when Junpei grabbed his arm.
"Don't," their captain hissed. "Don't draw attention. Just look a few rows ahead… and translate."
Kagami frowned, rubbing his side. "Translate what?"
But then he saw them.
A few seats ahead sat two girls, talking quietly to each other. What caught his eye first wasn't their voices – it was their height. Both were tall, easily matching half the Seirin roster.
The first girl was Japanese – long, lustrous black hair, pale skin, delicate features that looked almost porcelain. Her figure was slim and graceful.
The other was obviously foreign – wavy blond hair, long lashes, striking grey-blue eyes. Both of them were beautiful. The only girl Kagami could compare them to since coming to Japan was Momoi.
They were speaking English. Kagami's brain switched on immediately.
He leaned forward just enough to catch their words.
"Arisa, did you bring the camera? Remember what Mr. Kuhlmann said – if we want to utilize Novak properly, we need to record everything. No gaps."
The black-haired girl, Arisa, scoffed. "Of course I did, Emma. I'm not some airhead like you. And for the record, you were supposed to bring it yesterday. You forgot!"
The blonde – Emma – put on an innocent face. "Did I? Well, it's fine. Some guys nearby were really helpful."
"Helpful?!" Arisa's voice rose. "One of them literally ran to a store and bought this camera! You conned some poor guy, you vixen!"
"Arisa-chan," Emma said sweetly, "you need to learn how to use your womanly charm. Nobody likes gorilla-like girls. Try to be more feminine."
"I am the definition of femininity!" Arisa shot back, fuming. "I'm just not a lying vixen!"
"You should be," Emma teased, eyes gleaming. "Otherwise how are you going to get a good man? Anyway, after this game, we're going shopping. There's a lingerie boutique nearby – something lacy would look amazing on you…"
Kagami's brain started melting. He sat there frozen, face blank, unsure if he was embarrassed or confused.
Koganei leaned in. "Oi, Kagami. What are they saying?"
Kagami blinked. "…They're just… arguing. About, uh… fancy underwear."
"That's it?!" Junpei blurted. "And you were shameless enough to listen to that?!"
Riko's voice cracked like a whip. "KAGAMI!"
She was seconds away from entering her destructive mode when Kagami blurted out–
"Wait! There's more! They mentioned something important!"
That stopped everyone cold.
Kagami lowered his voice. "They're probably involved with that Onitsuka school. They mentioned Coach Kuhlmann."
The entire Seirin bench froze. Even breathing seemed to stop.
Kagami went on carefully. "They also talked about some guy named Novak. Said they're recording footage so he can 'play properly' or something."
Riko stretched her arms and leaned back in her seat, eyes still on the court. "Hmmm… so these two are gathering intel," she said thoughtfully. "That's not unusual in itself. What's strange is that they're collecting data for just one guy."
Izuki Shun rubbed his chin. "Do you think he's got some kind of special ability? Like Kise's copy?"
Riko shook her head. "I don't know. From the footage of those foreigners we've seen, none of them showed anything like that."
Kiyoshi Teppei leaned forward with a grin. "Honestly, with the way they play, they don't need abilities. Those moves looked straight-up pro level. And even with his copy, I doubt Kise could imitate NBA players. Right, Kuroko?"
Kuroko nodded slightly. "As far as I know, Kise can't copy NBA players. He tried, back in middle school – from highlight mixtapes. It didn't work. His ability has the same problem with the rest of the Generation of Miracles."
Koganei scratched his head. "Then why record every second? You don't need to track someone's every move just to prepare for a game."
Teppei rubbed his chin. "Yeah… unless…" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing for a second. "No, never mind. It's probably nothing."
Kagami leaned closer. "Unless what?"
Before Teppei could answer, someone behind them coughed loudly. "Hey, kids, mind keeping it down? The game's about to start."
Riko turned around immediately, bowing slightly. "Ah – sorry about that."
The entire group went quiet. The lights dimmed, the announcer's voice echoed through the stadium, and the roar of the crowd swallowed their conversation whole.