With the conclusion of the final match, the Tokyo regional qualifiers had officially wrapped up.
No matter which of the two remaining teams won or lost, both would advance to Nationals.
Tendou Kageyoshi and the rest of the Teikō squad didn't leave immediately. Instead, they stayed to watch the final game play out.
"We are kings!"
Under their coach's impassioned rallying cry, Seihō clinched a hard-fought victory and locked in a 2–1 record—securing the second seed from the Tokyo region.
That grizzled Seihō coach? He was a realist.
He hadn't dared scream something like "We are kings!" back when they were facing Teikō.
He had no confidence in defeating such a powerhouse, and spouting big talk like that in the face of a sure loss would've just made him look like a clown.
Once the round-robin was complete, the organizers held a brief send-off ceremony.
In front of more than twenty thousand cheering fans, Teikō lifted the Tokyo championship trophy.
Tendou bit into his medal lightly.
Damn, hard as a rock—not even real gold. Freaking cheapskates!
Next came the award announcements. Similar to NBA's regular season honors, they served as recognition for standout individual performances.
Tendou not only won Rookie of the Year, he also made the All-Tokyo First Team, and took home the Steals Leader title.
Scoring title went to Nijimura Shūzō, Assist Leader to Akashi, and Rebound Leader to Murasakibara.
Perhaps to keep things fair in a "well-rounded competition," the organizers didn't want Teikō to sweep every award. So in the All-Region lineup, only Tendou and Nijimura were selected—while the other three spots went to players from the other qualifying teams.
But for Shirogane Kōzō, these individual awards didn't matter. His goal was Nationals.
"Let's go. The real battle begins now!"
"Yeah!"
The Teikō players responded in unison, boarding the team bus and heading out for their celebration dinner.
"What should we eat?"
"Ramen! Tasty and cheap!"
"Nah, I want barbecue."
Everyone on the bus began chiming in with their cravings.
Akashi glanced around. For once, he felt like something long-missing in his heart had been filled.
Realizing he hadn't done much for the team since joining, he offered,
"How about Michelin? I know a place with excellent food."
Dead silence.
Everyone turned and stared at Akashi.
Even the ever-composed young master started to feel nervous under the sudden spotlight.
Just as he was about to say something to smooth things over, Tendou interjected,
"You trying to bankrupt our poor coach on the spot?"
Shirogane Kōzō, who'd been silently appreciating the team's energy, suddenly felt his heart take a hit.
Truth was, his meager salary was lower than what Tendou earned per modeling shoot.
He immediately put on his serious coach face,
"Don't get too cocky, Tendou. I'm still wealthier than you."
"Sure, you probably have savings—but aren't most of them in your wife's name?"
"Coach, how much is your monthly allowance again? Can it even cover three meals a day?"
Damn it, the man thought, this kid's words cut deeper than a knife.
The rare sight of their stern coach getting roasted had everyone howling with laughter—except Akashi, who still felt like a bit of an outsider.
Sensing this, Tendou slung an arm around his shoulder, dropped his sunglasses to his nose in dramatic flair, and said,
"Leave those stuffy, dead-inside restaurants to the old folks."
"We young bloods deserve barbecue. That's what suits our burning youth. Let's go, my minions—let's tear the yakiniku joint apart!"
"Yeah!"
Aomine and the others joined in the chaos enthusiastically.
Akashi blinked, then a rare smile spread across his face.
"Mhm."
...
『They're such good friends... I'm jealous.』
『They get along so well!』
『Tendou is so warm and sweet. He's not cold at all!』
『He literally said last episode that he excluded all his classmates. Where is this "warmth" coming from?!』
『Akashi's the real sweet one. His smile is so gentle.』
『Right?! I liked Akashi the moment I saw him. He's so classy—such rich boy energy. Who wouldn't fall for that?』
『Only problem is he's short. He's not even as tall as me...』
The danmaku (on-screen comment) army was once again locked in discussion.
As mentioned before, Kuroko no Basket's biggest draw was always its cast of characters.
Among these colorful-haired boys, there was always someone who caught your eye.
...
Later That Night.
Shirogane Kōzō's long-hoarded secret savings were wiped out.
Left with no choice, he had to call his wife to come rescue him from the restaurant.
Thinking he was clever, he'd shooed all the boys away before calling—
What he didn't know was that Tendou and a few of the more mischievous kids had snuck back just to catch the scene on camera.
The next morning, the school paper ran the headline:
"Teikō Coach Caught Dine-and-Dashing, Forced to Wash Dishes to Pay Off Debt!"
Shirogane Kōzō was livid. It had to be those little brats. Most likely Tendou!
Furious, he kicked them all out of practice and made them run ten laps around the entire campus.
Amid a sea of "HAHAHAHA" and "Coach strikes again!" from the danmaku, the Teikō squad spent their afternoon bickering and blaming each other.
...
Meanwhile...
"Alright, speak—but keep it short. I have a mountain of work to handle."
At Rakuzan's basketball club, Shirogane Eiji sat in his office preparing for Nationals.
As the coach of high school basketball's highest peak, Rakuzan had only one goal:
To win the championship—and defend their title.
"Well, Mr. Shirogane, I've compiled the materials on the upcoming middle school Nationals as you requested."
"Middle school qualifiers are all done?"
"Yes. Tokyo was the last region to finish, but they've now finalized their three representative teams."
"Good. Thanks. Leave the files here."
Shirogane Eiji set his strategy board aside and opened the folder.
Just as his assistant reached the door, he was called back.
"What is this? Why does this report have such an obvious mistake?"
"A mistake? That shouldn't be possible." The assistant blinked. "I double-checked all the data before submitting."
"Then why does it say 8.5 steals per game here? You mislabeled scoring or assists as steals?"
Such a rookie mistake...
"Because that kid actually averaged 8.5 steals."
Shirogane Eiji: ????
"And here—6.6 blocks per game? You're telling me this Tendou Kageyoshi had 6.6 blocks per game too?"
The coach jabbed his finger at Murasakibara's data in disbelief.
His assistant nodded calmly.
"Yes, Coach. We verified everything three times. If Coach Shirogane Kōzō hadn't restricted their playtime—only giving them around 27 minutes per game—those kids probably would've averaged double digits in both steals and blocks."
Shirogane Eiji rubbed his temples.
He understood every individual word his assistant was saying.
So why, when strung together... did they make zero sense?
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