Manager Momoi: Data and Smiles

The air in Teikō First-String training gym still carried the residual heat of sweat, rubber, and fierce clashes. Sunlight streamed through high windows in pillars of light, dust dancing silently within them. At the center of the court, Daiki Aomine and Haruka Shirasawa clashed in another explosive one-on-one—the dull thud of muscle colliding, the screech of sneakers against the floor, the heavy bounce of the basketball all weaving together into a rhapsody called "Collision of Talents." Yet in the relatively quiet corner by the sidelines, another silent war was unfolding.

Momoi Satsuki sat on a folding chair, her cherry-pink hair tied back in a sharp ponytail, revealing a smooth forehead and a slender neck. She leaned slightly forward, her fair cheeks flushed a faint pink from concentration, her cherry-pink eyes locked onto every offensive and defensive transition on the court like the most precise scanner. On her lap lay a thick, worn-edged notebook, its cover inscribed with elegant handwriting: "Teiko First-String Data Record · Momoi." At that moment, her right hand gripped a pencil with a slightly dulled tip, moving rapidly across the page, leaving behind a dense web of symbols, numbers, and hasty annotations, producing a soft rustling sound like spring silkworms feeding on mulberry leaves.

G.M (Daiki Aomine) vs S.Y (Haruka Shirasawa)

Round 7:

Offense: G.M

Action: Right-side power drive, shoulder impact force (estimated) A+ grade, speed burst S grade

Defense: S.Y

Response: Active force absorption (left shoulder lowered 15°, right foot back and braced), core stability maintained A grade, left hand interference position: lower 1/3 of ball's right side

Result: The ball's trajectory shifted by 30°, the rhythm of the breakthrough was broken, and I was forced to slow down and adjust.

Verdict: Effective defense (force absorption + interference)

Round 8:

Offense: S.Y

Action: High-post ball possession, feint sequence:

1. Eye jab left (realism A)→

2. Left shoulder drop (+8cm)→

3. Left foot jab step (range +10cm)→

4. Reset (core control S)→

5. Behind-the-back dribble into spin move (fluidity S, speed S-)

Defense: G.M

Reaction: Weight shift left (estimated 40%)→forced stop (high muscle load)→pursuit delay 0.3 seconds (estimated)

Result: S.Y gains half a body's worth of breakthrough space

Verdict: Feint deception successful (rhythm change + body control)

The pencil's trajectory moved as if alive, precisely capturing every fleeting detail. The extraordinary force-dissipating technique and instantaneous core stability that You displayed under Qingfeng's violent assault—defying all logic. The deceptive nuances in each shoulder feint, eye shift, and probing step he made. And the momentary muscle stiffness and delayed pursuit that betrayed Qingfeng's wild instincts as they were toyed with time and again... All these subtle distinctions, imperceptible to ordinary eyes, were precisely broken down and quantified by those cherry-pink irises, transforming into a cold, objective stream of data across the page.

"Bai Ze's feint sequence... the deception level has increased again..." Momoi murmured to herself, her pen scratching two hard lines under the words "rhythm change," with a small "↑" marked beside them. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if wrestling with some difficult problem. "Aomine's wild intuition deception resistance threshold... seems to be adapting? But Bai Ze's feint combinations are also evolving... a dynamic game..." She quickly sketched a small double-headed arrow in the margin of her notebook, a question mark beside it. Data was her only weapon for understanding this battlefield and these incomprehensible geniuses.

Just then, the confrontation on the court escalated again! After a fierce but unsuccessful steal, Aomine was fooled by Shirasawa's extremely realistic hesitation fake, shifting his weight. Shirasawa then executed an unbelievable, body-almost-parallel-to-the-floor scoop layup, dodging Atsushi Murasakibara's help defense block and scoring!

"Beautiful—!" A huge cheer erupted from the bench!

Momoi's cherry-pink eyes lit up brilliantly! She nearly sprang from her chair, her pencil dancing wildly across the page!

* Round 12:

* Offense: S.Y

Termination Method: Extreme Aerial Pull-Up Dodge (Evasion Angle: 35° Left Spin + 15° Lean Back, Core Load MAX!)

* Defensive interference: M.D (Atsushi Murasakibara) block coverage 98.5% (estimated), fingertip distance from ball <2cm!

* Result: Score (bank shot)

* Verdict: S-grade difficulty finish! Core strength S+! Flexibility S+! Spatial awareness S!

Her breathing quickened, and her fair cheeks flushed a deeper red from excitement. "Core load MAX! Evasion angle stacking! Fingertip distance <2cm! Perfect data!" she murmured under her breath, her cherry-pink ponytail swaying slightly with her agitation, the tip of her pen nearly piercing through the paper. In that moment, the data was no longer cold symbols, but the most fervent tribute to that breathtaking talent. She lifted her head, gazing at the silver-haired figure in the arena, who was being surrounded and celebrated by teammates, her cherry-pink eyes filled with pure awe and the excitement of discovering a rare treasure.

Yet this focused, excited gaze, like invisible threads, instantly tugged at someone's nerves.

"Hey! May!" Daiki Aomine's distinctly displeased roar rang out from a short distance away. He had just been toyed with by Yu on the defensive end, and now he was irritably wiping the sweat from his face. His deep blue eyes, carrying the fierce glare of someone who felt offended, shot a harsh look at Yu before turning to Momoi. "If you're gonna record, then record! What are you grinning at that guy for?! What about my stats?! Didn't you see that steal prediction just now?!" His tone was filled with the irritability of someone whose sense of ownership had been disturbed.

Momoi was startled by the shout, her excited expression freezing instantly before giving way to a flicker of hurt and embarrassment. She bit her lower lip, a trace of panic flashing in her cherry-pink eyes. "I... I am recording, Aomine-kun! Of course your data is there..." She instinctively flipped through her notebook, trying to prove it.

"Hmph! I bet your notebook is full of 'Shirasawa Haruka'!" Aomine interrupted her impatiently, waving his hand in irritation, grabbing his water bottle and chugging heavily before turning to walk toward the rest area, leaving behind a back radiating low pressure.

The atmosphere on the sidelines instantly turned somewhat delicate. Yūta had also heard Aomine's roar and felt the hostile glare. The smile on his face faded, his amber eyes calmly sweeping over the direction Aomine had left, then landing on Momoi, who seemed a bit at a loss. He saw the flicker of grievance in her eyes and the tips of her ears turning red from embarrassment.

You didn't say anything, simply walking to the edge of the court in silence to pick up your water bottle. The brief training break began. You twisted open the cap, and the cool water soothed your parched throat. Your gaze casually swept across the sidelines, landing on Momoi, who was hunched over, dejectedly tidying the slightly disheveled shorthand notebook she had been flipping through. Her cherry-pink ponytail drooped lifelessly.

Shirasawa's eyes lingered for a moment on the elegant "Momoi" characters on her notebook cover, then shifted to her slightly furrowed brow. He was silent for a few seconds, then picked up his spare, unopened sports drink and walked over.

Momoi was focused on correcting a data line she'd drawn crookedly after being startled by Aomine's shout when suddenly a shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Haruka Shirasawa's sweat-glistening, sharply defined face. A few strands of silver-gray hair clung to his smooth forehead, his amber eyes calmly watching her—no longer sharp like on the court, but carrying a gentle warmth.

"Momoi-san," Yū's voice wasn't loud, carrying a slight hoarseness from exercise, yet it reached her ears clearly. He extended his hand, offering a bottle of chilled grape-flavored sports drink to her. "Good work. This... is for you." His movements were natural, without any deliberate closeness, as if it were the most ordinary gesture of concern between teammates.

Momoi froze. Her cherry-pink eyes widened slightly, looking at the brightly packaged drink, then at Shirasawa's calm, sincere face. The hurt and embarrassment from Aomine's shout seemed to dissipate instantly, washed away by this sudden kindness and the cool touch. A warm current mixed with surprise surged through her, making her fair cheeks flush again—this time not from excitement, but from a hint of shyness.

"Ah... th-thank you, Shirasawa-kun!" She took the drink a bit flusteredly, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of his slightly sweaty hand, then quickly withdrawing as if shocked by a weak current. She lowered her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I was just doing my job as manager..." She unscrewed the cap and took small sips of the cold drink, the faintly sweet grape flavor melting on her tongue, seeming to dispel some of the frustration in her heart.

"Your records," Shirasawa's gaze fell on her open notebook, the dense data and diagrams astonishing even him as the subject. "Are impressive. A lot of details I wasn't even aware of myself." His tone carried sincere recognition.

When the topic turned to data, Momoi's eyes lit up again, as if she had found the most familiar subject, her earlier shyness replaced by professional enthusiasm. "Really? Hakase-kun!" She immediately turned her notebook toward Yu, her slender fingers pointing to the page where she had recorded his extreme hang-time move from earlier, her speech unconsciously quickening. "Look here! That move where you dodged Aomine-kun's block in midair! A 35° left rotation plus a 15° lean back! Your core muscles maintained shooting stability at that twisted angle—the load value is definitely S+! And look at the fake-out sequence before that; your success rate at deceiving Aomine-kun's center of gravity has already reached 63.7%, an 8.2 percentage point improvement over last week! This is just..." She rattled on, her cherry-pink eyes sparkling with excitement, her whole being seemingly glowing.

However, when she saw You's slightly raised eyebrows and his expression—clearly a bit overwhelmed by the barrage of technical jargon, yet still patiently listening—she suddenly realized she had fallen into her "data frenzy" state once again. Her words came to an abrupt halt, and her fair cheeks flushed crimson, the redness spreading all the way to the tips of her ears.

"Ah! I'm... I'm sorry!" She waved her hands frantically, her cherry-pink ponytail swaying along, like a child caught doing something wrong. "I... I can't stop once I start talking about data... Shirasawa-kun must find it boring..." She lowered her head in embarrassment, her fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her notebook, her voice growing softer and softer.

Watching her flustered and at a loss, her cheeks flushed crimson, the corner of You's mouth lifted uncontrollably into a clear, natural arc. That smile was like sunlight piercing through thick clouds, instantly brightening his usually somewhat calm face. Warm laughter rippled in his amber eyes, carrying a faint, barely perceptible warmth stirred by her innocence and contrast.

"No, it's quite interesting." Yu's voice carried a hint of a smile, sincere. "Having someone record and analyze so seriously... feels special." He paused, then added, "And impressive."

"Huh?" Momoi jerked her head up, her cherry-pink eyes brimming with disbelief and delight, sparkling as she looked at the rare, clear smile on Yu's face. In that instant, she felt her heart skip a beat—not for the data, but for the smile itself, and the genuine recognition behind it. A warm current of joy, shyness, and immense satisfaction flooded her, washing away the earlier embarrassment and the displeasure Aomine had caused. Unbidden, she returned a smile as brilliant, pure, and warm as cherry blossoms blooming in spring.

"Mm!" She nodded vigorously, her cherry-pink eyes curving into crescents, the blush on her fair cheeks lingering as she radiated heartfelt happiness. "Thank you, Bai Ze-kun!"

Just then, Nijimura Shūzō's booming voice exploded like thunder at the court's edge: "Hey! You over there! Break's over! Don't dawdle! Next group match, get ready! Bai Ze! Aomine! Murasakibara! Midōrima! And... Kuroko! You five are one team (Red Team)! Against the rest of the starters and subs mixed (White Team)!"

This sudden grouping left everyone stunned. Forcing Yu, Aomine, Murasakibara, and Midōrima—four top-tier talents with wildly different styles and simmering friction—plus the faint-presence Kuroko Tetsuya into one team? It was like cramming a few volatile supernovas into a tiny space, ready to collide and explode at any moment.

Aomine Daiki was the first to protest: "Ha?! Captain Nijimura! You want me on a team with that guy?!" His deep-blue eyes shot Yu a glare full of hostility.

Murasakibara Atsushi munched on his Umaibo, mumbling vaguely, "...Troublesome... too many people..."

Midōrima Shintarō pushed up his glasses, the gaze behind the lenses coldly sweeping over his "temporary teammates," his brow furrowed in clear displeasure at this chaotic lineup.

Kuroko Tetsuya stood quietly in the corner, as if the storm around him had nothing to do with him.

Only Bai Ze You's smile quickly faded, reverting to his usual calm. His amber eyes scanned his "illustrious" temporary teammates, then fixed on the White Team across the court, led by Akashi Seijūrō, watching like tigers eyeing their prey. A sharp glint gathered deep in his eyes. He understood Nijimura's intent—this was the cruelest trial ground, testing whether they could unleash power beyond the individual while being hampered or even hostile to each other. He bent down, picked up the basketball at his feet, and felt the familiar, heavy graininess against his fingertips.

"Akashi-kun's on the other side," Nijimura's voice carried a playful, unyielding pressure. "If you lose, everyone does twenty extra sets of suicides! Start!"

The whistle, like a battle horn, tore through the brief calm!

Red Team (Yu, Aomine, Murasakibara, Midōrima, Kuroko) had the ball. It naturally went to Midōrima, the steadiest ball-handler. He pushed up his glasses, ignoring Aomine's hand-signal for the ball, his gaze like a precision scanner locking onto Kuroko Tetsuya, who stood beyond the three-point line, "forgotten" by the defender. With a flick of his wrist, the basketball flew with calculated accuracy toward Kuroko's position!

But just as the ball was about to arrive! A crimson figure appeared like a ghost on the passing lane! Akashi Seijūrō! His heterochromatic eyes seemed to have seen through everything! His pale, slender fingers shot out like lightning, as if waiting all along!

Slap!

A clean steal!

"Fast break!" Akashi's cold voice rang out!

The basketball, like a precision-guided missile, instantly flew to the White Team forward who had already started sprinting! A perfect counterattack was about to form!

"Damn it!" Aomine growled in frustration, his deep-blue figure exploding with terrifying speed in pursuit! But he was too far away to stop it!

Then! A silver-gray figure appeared at the front line of the defense like teleportation! It was Bai Ze You! With top-tier prediction and acceleration, he forcibly blocked the path of the White Team's fast-break player!

The White Team forward, facing Yu's defense, faked a stop and changed direction to shake him off! Yu's center of gravity shifted momentarily!

Opportunity! The forward immediately jumped for a shot!

But the moment his body left the ground! Yu, whose stance had been broken, used his core strength and flexibility to forcibly halt the shift! At the same time, as if foreseeing the move, he jumped high! His massive palm, whistling through the air, slammed viciously toward the ball just released from the hand!

"Bam!"

A crisp block against the backboard! The ball smacked hard into the board with a loud thud!

"Nice block!" Shouts erupted from the sidelines!

The blocked ball flew toward the sideline! About to go out of bounds! A water-blue figure appeared like a ghost at the ball's landing spot! Kuroko Tetsuya! He caught it steadily, without a pause, flicking his wrist! The basketball, as if with eyes, traced a precise line toward Yu, who had just landed and was still moving forward from inertia!

Yu caught the ball! Open space ahead! Without hesitation, he shot like an arrow toward the opponent's half!

The White Team's defensive formation instantly fell into chaos! Akashi calmly directed the shrinking of the line!

In full sprint, Yu faced two defenders closing in. He feinted sharply to the right with his upper body—a wide, exaggerated move! His eyes pierced toward the right! A highly convincing fake drive to the right!

The defenders' centers of gravity shifted!

In that instant of shift! Yu's right hand, controlling the ball, flicked with lightning speed in a tiny space! The ball traced an odd arc, passing from his own crotch to his left hand in an almost impossible move! At the same time, his swaying body pivoted on his right foot in a rapid spin! He slipped through the gap between the two defenders!

"Behind-the-back dribble into a spin! He's through!"

Free! Yu charged into the paint! Facing the last defender, he leaped without any flashiness, showing incredible hang time and balance in the air! His right hand rose high, ready for a powerful tomahawk dunk!

"Don't even think about it!" A low growl rumbled! Murasakibara Atsushi's massive purple figure rose like a mountain! His terrifying wingspan and giant palm blotted out the sky! Fueled by annoyance at being upstaged by a "temporary teammate" and absolute power, he swung viciously at the ball in Yu's hands! He meant to slam both the silver-haired kid and the ball down!

In midair, Yu's pupils reflected Murasakibara's cold face and the sky-covering giant palm! At the critical moment! He didn't force a contest! His core twisted like an invisible giant hand wrenched him, folding his body impossibly to the left in the air! His powerful core gave him a brief hang time! At the same time, his right hand, holding the ball, flicked his wrist in a hidden motion while his body was twisted and his vision blocked—changing from a dunk to a fingertip layup!

The ball didn't go high but, like a nimble hummingbird, brushed under the edge of Murasakibara's slightly raised palm from the full-effort block, slipping through the nearly nonexistent gap!

"Shua!"

The ball kissed the backboard and dropped through the net!

"It's in—!!!" A wave of amazed shouts swept the gym again!

But the moment the ball went through!

"Bam!" A heavy, dull impact!

Yu's body, folded in midair to dodge, collided unavoidably with Murasakibara Atsushi's massive frame! The immense impact force sent Yu flying like a broken kite, completely off balance, crashing twistedly onto the hard floor!

"Ah!" Momoi Satsuki screamed, shooting up from her chair, her cherry-pink eyes filled with terror! The shorthand notebook slipped from her hands, hitting the ground with a loud thud, pages scattering.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Everyone's gaze locked onto the silver-haired figure lying motionless on the floor.

Aomine Daiki stopped in his tracks, a flicker of shock in his deep-blue eyes. Murasakibara Atsushi landed, his massive body pausing, his purple eyes carrying a hint of surprise and... confusion? Midōrima Shintarō pushed up his glasses, the gaze behind the lenses cold, yet seeming to freeze for a moment. Kuroko Tetsuya's sky-blue eyes widened slightly. Even Akashi Seijūrō's heterochromatic eyes contracted a little.

Nijimura Shūzō's face changed, and he strode quickly onto the court.

"Bai Ze-kun!" Momoi's cry came with a sob. She shoved past the players blocking her, stumbling toward the court, her cherry-pink ponytail swinging wildly. Her heart was gripped by an invisible hand; the excitement from the data and that warm smile were instantly replaced by immense fear. She just wanted to get to him immediately!

In the center of the court, Bai Ze You lay quietly on the floor, his sweat-soaked Red and White Training Uniform clinging to his slightly heaving back. The pain from the violent collision surged through his nerves like a tide, his ears ringing. He could feel countless gazes fixed on him—shock, worry, indifference, and... from one direction, a tearful cry.

He moved his fingers with difficulty, pushed against the floor, and slowly, extremely slowly, raised his head. The corner of his forehead seemed scraped, a trace of blood seeping out, mixing with sweat. He shook his dazed head, his amber eyes, briefly unfocused, regaining their sharpness, carrying the lingering ache but still calm and stubborn.

He saw Momoi Satsuki rushing to the edge of the court, held back by Nijimura. Her cherry-pink eyes were brimming with tears, her pale cheeks full of fear and worry, as she desperately tried to charge in.

Their gazes met across the air. The corner of Yū's mouth twitched, as if trying to give her a reassuring smile, but it twisted awkwardly from the pain. Slowly, with immense difficulty, he raised one hand and gently waved it in Momoi's direction.

It was a silent signal: I'm fine.

Momoi's tears finally spilled over, but she nodded firmly, her cherry-pink eyes locked onto him, her hands clenched tightly together as if trying to transmit her strength to him.

Nijimura Shūzō crouched down, checked Yū's condition, and said in a low voice, "How about it? Can you get up?"

Yū took a deep breath, enduring the ache throughout his body, and used his arms to support himself. With the help of Nijimura and the team doctor who had rushed over, he slowly stood up. His steps were a bit unsteady, but his back remained straight.

"I'm fine, Captain." Yū's voice was hoarse from the pain, but exceptionally clear. "Continue."

His gaze swept over his "temporary teammates," each with a different expression—the complexity in Aomine's eyes, Murasakibara's indifference, Midorima's coldness, Kuroko's calm. Finally, his eyes crossed the court and landed on the emperor with crimson hair and heterochromatic eyes across from him.

Akashi Seijūrō was also looking at him, his gaze still icy, but deep within seemed to stir a barely perceptible ripple.

Yū slowly exhaled a breath of air tinged with blood. Deep in his amber eyes, the flame that had been temporarily suppressed by the impact and pain had not been extinguished; instead, it burned even more fiercely, even more unyielding, as if doused with gasoline!

The Trial Ground of Teikō was cruel and real. And the White Phantom's dance steps, even if they stumbled, would inevitably step back onto this battlefield of glory and thorns, scarred and stubborn. Momoi Satsuki wiped away her tears, bent down to pick up the scattered Shorthand Notebook, and a determined light reignited in her cherry-pink eyes. She would record all of this—every moment this boy fell and stood back up.