The third match of the tournament was about to begin.
Mei sat beside Asahi in the stands, her eyes scanning the court below as the announcer's voice echoed through the gymnasium.
"Next match: Hokuto Spirit Academy vs. Blue River High!"
The crowd cheered wildly as both teams jogged into the arena.
Hokuto Spirit wore sharp red and white jerseys—their energy intense, their expressions calm but focused. Their star player, Akashi Ren, stood tall at center, eyes closed, quietly mouthing something under his breath. Meditation? Or prayer?
Blue River High, on the other hand, walked in like kings. Navy and silver jerseys gleamed under the lights. Their ace, Kaito Mizuno, twirled the ball on one finger before tossing it to a teammate with a smug grin.
"Blue River's flashy," Riku muttered beside her. "But Hokuto's got discipline."
Mei nodded slowly, watching intently.
This wasn't just a game.
Every second on that court was a story.
First Quarter:
The whistle blew. Tip-off.
Akashi leaped high—too high—and tipped the ball to his teammate. Hokuto controlled the pace, passing with machine-like precision. Three quick passes and the ball found Akashi again.
He pulled up from mid-range—swish.
First points to Hokuto Spirit.
Blue River wasn't quiet for long. Kaito, their ace, came alive with explosive speed, dribbling past two defenders and scoring a layup. He winked at the crowd. The girls behind Mei screamed his name.
"Tch. Show-off," Riku muttered.
The quarter ended with Hokuto 14 – Blue River 13.
Second Quarter:
Intensity rose.
Hokuto's passes were clean, focused, while Blue River pushed with unpredictable, aggressive attacks. A foul was called. Kaito hit both free throws.
Mei leaned forward, focused.
It was fascinating. Akashi was ice—calm, silent, eyes like still water.
Kaito was fire—wild, loud, grinning like a predator.
Two opposites. Same goal.
Before halftime, Akashi landed a clutch three-pointer.
Score: Hokuto 29 – Blue River 26.
Third Quarter:
Blue River stormed in with a 10-point run. Their defense got tighter, and Hokuto began to crack. Akashi called a timeout, and for a moment, Mei saw the captain's eyes—they were burning.
"Watch," Riku said. "He's not done yet."
And he wasn't.
Akashi returned with sharper plays—steals, rebounds, perfect passes. He wasn't scoring much. But he was everywhere.
The quarter ended at Hokuto 42 – Blue River 41.
Final Quarter:
Everything came down to the wire.
Each possession felt like life or death. Fans screamed, drums pounded, and sneakers screeched against polished floors.
With 5 seconds left, it was tied: 56 – 56.
Akashi had the ball. One defender. Then two. He passed to his shooting guard—wide open corner three.
The ball soared.
Time slowed.
Splash.
59 – 56. Game over.
The arena buzzed with rising tension. This wasn't just another match.
It was Neo Tokyo Elite — the name carried weight. Prestige. Expectation.
"Match 4: Neo Tokyo Elite High School vs. Shizuoka Flame High!"
Across the court, Shizuoka Flame High—less famous, but fierce. They were known for unpredictable offense and raw intensity.
Tip-Off:
The ball flew, and Neo Tokyo's captain, Rei Kanzaki, claimed it with mechanical grace.
Mei's eyes widened.
He didn't jump the highest—but perfect timing.
Asahi voice was low beside her. "He's dangerous. Calculates everything."
Neo Tokyo moved like a machine—laser-sharp passes, tight formation, no showboating. Their plays were choreographed.
Within the first minute: Rei's no-look pass—three-pointer.
Rei's fake cut—mid-range jumper.
Score: Neo Tokyo 8 – Shizuoka 0
Shizuoka's bench started yelling. Their captain, Jin Arata, finally got the ball and charged down the court like a bullet, pushing through defenders and scoring with a wild spin move.
The crowd roared.
But Neo Tokyo didn't flinch.
First Half Ends:
Neo Tokyo 34 – Shizuoka 19
Mei could feel the shift in the air. Shizuoka was sweating—literally and mentally. Jin was panting, yelling at teammates to "focus up."
But Neo Tokyo? They hadn't broken a sweat. Rei adjusted his armband, as calm as if it was just practice.
Second Half:
Shizuoka changed strategy. Full-court press. Aggressive plays.
It worked—for five minutes.
They forced three turnovers. Jin dunked on a fast break.
Score: 36 – 29
But then Neo Tokyo… adapted. Instantly.
Rei signaled a switch. Their point guard slowed the tempo. Tightened the passing.
Every attack was precise. Shizuoka's rhythm—shattered.
In one moment, Rei pulled up for a contested three.
Bang.
The crowd fell silent. Mei swallowed.
"They're monsters…" she whispered.
Riku didn't answer. He was watching intently. His grip on the railing was tighter than before.
Final Score: Neo Tokyo 65 – Shizuoka Flame 44
As the buzzer echoed, Rei walked off the court with the same emotionless look he had when he entered.
Mei's heart thudded. So that's the level Riku has to face…
She glanced sideways.
Riku's eyes burned—not with fear, but with determination.
Kyoto Dome – It time to Semi-Finals
The court shone under the white lights, polished and perfect, as the announcer's voice echoed across the packed dome:
"Semi-Final 1: Sakura High vs. Osaka Thunder High!!"
The crowd roared, a mix of cheers, chants, and rising heartbeat. Mei gripped her scarf tight in the stands, eyes fixed on the boy walking toward center court.
Riku.
His face was calm—too calm. But Mei could see it: the silent fire behind those eyes.
"Do your best," she whispered under her breath. "Win this."
First Quarter
Tip-off. Toma, Sakura's captain, leapt against Osaka's beast of a center. Toss—smack—Osaka Thunder wins tip-off.
Osaka's play style was brute-force. No fancy plays—just raw power and speed. Their ace, Ren Jiro, was a dunking demon.
He drove straight at Toma— Bang! Slam dunk in the first ten seconds.
Mei flinched.
But Riku took the ball next. He didn't hesitate—spun past one defender, stepped back, fadeaway jumper. Swish.
"Let's go," Riku muttered, as if reminding himself.
End of First Quarter: Osaka 18 – Sakura 17
Second Quarter
Osaka tightened defense. Triple-team on Riku.
But that's when Sakura High shone.
Toma and Sota ran a perfect screen pass, and Riku cut to the side—
Pull-up three. Splash.
Next play— Riku stole the inbound pass and slammed a one-handed dunk.
The crowd exploded. Mei stood up without realizing.
"He's flying today…" she whispered.
But Ren Jiro wasn't silent. He matched it with two drives and a euro-step floater.
Halftime Score: Sakura 39 – Osaka 35
Third Quarter
The court turned into a war zone. Osaka's forwards began full-body defense, rough and relentless. Riku took a hit—fell on the floor.
"Foul!!" Toma yelled.
But the ref stayed silent. This was semi-finals—only the strong moved on.
Riku stood. Wiped his lip. Smiled.
"Then I'll win even if I bleed."
Next play—he didn't pass. He slashed in, drew three defenders—spun out, passed to Sota.
Bang—Three!
Momentum shifted.
End of Third: Sakura 58 – Osaka 54
Final Quarter
Mei's heart wouldn't stop pounding.
Riku was limping slightly. Sweat poured. His shots weren't falling like before.
Osaka took the lead with 3 minutes left. Thunder Slam.
Score: 66 – 64 Osaka
Tension sharp.
Then—timeout.
Sakura's coach looked at the team. "Last burst. Trust Riku."
Final play.
Riku took the inbound. He didn't look to pass. He knew.
One dribble. Crossover. Step back. Ren jumped—
Riku faded—released—
Silence.
Swish.
Buzzer.
Final Score: Sakura High 67 – Osaka Thunder 66
The arena erupted.
Riku fell to one knee. His team rushed him. Mei felt tears at the corner of her eyes.
He looked up to her in the stands and gave a faint smile.
She didn't run down. Not yet.
Because she remembered her words—
"When you win the tournament... then you can kiss me."