The faint squeak of sneakers echoed off the polished wood floors, mingling with the rhythmic thump of basketballs hitting the ground. Horizon High's gym, with its tall, dust-flecked windows and aging scoreboard humming faintly above, was once again alive.
Outside, dusk crept in. The sky over Osaka was a pale orange canvas, clouds drifting lazily, as if the world outside the gym didn't know that something important was brewing within.
Dirga leaned back against the cool gym wall, arms folded across his chest. Sweat clung to the back of his neck. Practice had ended, but the tension hadn't left the air. Across the court, Aizawa lazily spun a ball on one finger while humming the latest EXILE track. Taiga, sitting cross-legged on the bench, chomped down on a protein bar and flipped through a stack of dog-eared basketball magazines—Slam Dunk, Basketball Monthly Japan, maybe even an old Shonen Jump tucked inside.
No one said it aloud, but everyone felt it: something big was coming.
