When the whistle for the second half sounded, Gu Jin still sat quietly on the bench, with no intention of playing.

This was Sakuragi Hanamichi's first time playing a full official game.

For him, this practical match was undoubtedly an excellent opportunity to gain experience—even though Sakuragi, a bit carried away at the start of the second half, made several consecutive mistakes and almost bumped into a teammate while moving, Coach Taoka on the sidelines looked at him with increasingly obvious approval.

The reckless yet persistent drive in this red-haired rookie always compensated for mistakes with an even more desperate attitude, a quality far more promising than temporary errors.

The final whistle blew, and the scoreboard was fixed at 75-88.

Shohoku lost by 13 points.

This score was like a heavy stone, weighing on the hearts of the Shohoku team.

Sweat dripped down their jawlines; no one spoke, and only heavy breathing remained from Shohoku's side.

But what was more frustrating than the loss was that everyone knew Ryonan hadn't played at full strength.

Gu Jin hadn't played at all, and even Ryonan's on-court lineup and tactics were far from their top configuration.

"Damn it..." Kakuta clenched his fists, his nails almost digging into his palms, "We tried so hard..."

Rukawa Kaede silently tied his shoelaces, his sweat-soaked black hair clinging to his forehead, obscuring the swirling emotions in his eyes.

The lingering frustration from being suppressed by Gu Jin last time had not yet dissipated, and now he suffered another crushing defeat to Sendo; two waves of defeat intertwined into an even fiercer flame, burning brightly in his chest.

He raised a hand to wipe his face, looking towards Ryonan's bench, his gaze sharp as a knife—whether it was Sendo or Gu Jin, who had never played, a showdown would happen sooner or later.

A practice match ended without surprise, also foreshadowing Shohoku's end.

A week later, the roster for the Prefectural Tournament preliminaries was officially announced.

Gu Jin scanned the list and indeed saw the name "Ryokufu High School."

As a seeded team, Ryonan skipped the preliminaries and directly entered the main league roster.

He then turned to the regional matchup table, his gaze sweeping over the ten schools listed, and subtly raised an eyebrow—from the matchups, Ryonan would face almost no real obstacles to reach the semifinals.

And in a few weeks, their first official opponent was confirmed to be Yokota High School.

Inside the stadium, Sendo walked over, followed his gaze to the matchup table, and smiled, curling his lips: "Looks like a relaxed start."

Gu Jin withdrew his gaze, his fingertip lightly tapping the name "Yokota High School": "Relaxed doesn't mean you can be careless."

"You're always so tense. By the way, are you free tonight? Aida Yayoi asked me for help with a cover photoshoot." Sendo's tone was casual, his fingertips still idly tracing the matchup table.

Gu Jin looked up at him, a slight arch in his eyebrow: "What? Trying to drag me along as a third wheel again?"

"Third wheel?" Sendo blinked, showing genuine confusion, "What does that mean?"

Gu Jin narrowed his eyes, tapping his knee twice with his fingertip. He really couldn't figure this guy out—he was so meticulous on the court, like a fox, but when it came to things like this, he was like a block of wood. Was he truly oblivious to romantic cues, or was he playing dumb on purpose, pretending to be naive?

Although Aida Yayoi was a few years older than Sendo, in Japan, what was a relationship with an older woman?

"Literal meaning." He withdrew his gaze, his tone a bit cooler, "Aida Yayoi specifically asked you for a cover shoot, and you insist on bringing me along. What else would that be but a third wheel?"

Sendo finally seemed to understand, scratching his head and smiling openly: "It's just a few photos of team training. She said she wants to do a special feature on 'Prefectural Tournament Preparations,' and besides, who can compare to your popularity?" He paused, then added, "And Aida Yayoi said you had great camera presence during your last interview, so she wants you to be in it too."

Gu Jin didn't reply, just looked at him.

Sendo felt uncomfortable under his gaze, so he leaned closer and asked in a low voice, smiling: "You're not actually thinking... Aida Yayoi is interested in me, are you?"

"I didn't say that." Gu Jin twitched his lips, but a hint of teasing was hidden in his eyes, "But if someone is truly slow to realize and misses something, don't come regretting it later."

"You're overthinking it. I see her as an older sister." Sendo laughed heartily, sunlight falling on his face through the window, his eyes curved like a content cat, "Let's go, just treat it as relaxing. After the shoot, I'll treat you to taiyaki, red bean paste."

"Young people don't know the value of an older sister, don't mistake a younger sister for a treasure," Gu Jin chuckled.

Sendo was even more bewildered, "What older sister, younger sister value?"

Gu Jin looked at his completely oblivious expression and sighed inwardly—never mind, "fools" have "fool's" luck.

He stood up, brushing the wrinkles from his jersey: "Let's go. If it takes too long, it won't just be taiyaki."

"No problem!" Sendo immediately followed, his steps light as if he were treading on air.

On the other side of the court, Coach Taoka was patiently guiding Sakuragi Hanamichi. He half-crouched, tapping Sakuragi's wrist with his fingertip: "Pay attention to your ball-holding posture, raise your elbow, and your fingertips should steady the ball as if balancing a drop of water."

Sakuragi frowned, clumsily adjusting his arm angle, the basketball wobbled in his palm, almost slipping away.

Taoka straightened up, looking at his tense profile, and suddenly softened his tone: "Sakuragi, with your understanding, these fundamental movements are actually not difficult to master." He paused, his gaze falling on the young man's tightly pressed lips, "But shooting is half feel, half confidence. You have to trust your hand, trust that this ball can follow your force and land steadily in the hoop."

Sakuragi suddenly looked up, his red hair particularly striking in the sunlight: "Confidence? I'm a genius! How could I lack confidence?" He spoke boldly, but the hand holding the ball quietly loosened.

Taoka couldn't help but curve his lips, a hint of approval in his eyes: "Then show that 'genius' confidence. Don't always think 'don't miss,' think 'it will definitely go in.' Come on, try again."

Sakuragi took a deep breath, his eyes on the hoop brightening. This time he didn't rush to shoot, but slowly adjusted his breathing, going over Taoka's words in his mind. A moment later, he bent his knees, raised his arm, and snapped his wrist; the basketball flew out in an arc—

With a "swish," it went through the net without touching the rim.

Sakuragi froze, then burst into a cheer: "Did you see that? I told you I'm a genius!"

Taoka stood by, watching him gesticulate wildly, the smile in his eyes deepening. This kid's potential was indeed like jade hidden in a rough stone; with a little guidance, it could shine through.