Nijimura's Gaze: A Genius's First Gleam

The air in Teiko Middle School's basketball club first-string training gym was denser and heavier than during the new player tryouts, carrying an intangible, kingly pressure. The vast space echoed with the dull thud of basketballs hitting the floor, the piercing screech of sneakers against the court, short, forceful shouts of commands, and heavy, powerful breaths. There was no extraneous noise—only the purest, most intense collision of basketball. Bai Zeyou stood at the edge of the court, wearing a crisp new first-string red-and-white training uniform. Beneath his silver-gray short hair, his amber eyes calmly swept across this battlefield belonging to the strong. He could clearly feel that suffocating aura of competition and surging fighting spirit permeating the air—this was the core domain of the national champion, Teiko.

His appearance was like a drop of cold water into boiling oil, instantly shattering some established equilibrium. The training seemed to pause for an incredibly subtle moment. The First-String members, whether second- or third-year regulars or capable substitutes, all turned their gazes toward him—curiosity, scrutiny, investigation, even a trace of barely perceptible rejection. A freshman who passed the selection and directly entered the First-String? This was extremely rare even in Teikō's history. Silent doubt filled the air.

"Hey, is that him? The 'Phantom' freshman?"

"Doesn't look that special..."

"Hmph, Captain Nijimura personally named him. Hope he's not all talk."

"We'll see in the scrimmage..."

Low murmurs flowed like an undercurrent in the corners of the gym. Yū seemed not to hear, quietly doing his stretches, movements smooth and fluid, every muscle extension carrying a unique rhythm. Yet, from the corner of his eye, he precisely caught several particularly sharp gazes.

At the other end of the court, Daiki Aomine, with his messy deep blue hair, was lazily leaning against the wall stretching his legs. His deep blue eyes, however, were like a hawk locking onto its prey, carrying undisguised scrutiny and a primal excitement as they fixed firmly on Yu. That gaze was scorching, full of aggression and a thirst for challenge. On the other side, Atsushi Murasakibara, occupying a patch of space like a silent mountain, was slowly tearing open a new bag of potato sticks. He cast a glance at Yu through half-lidded, languid purple eyes. That look was flat and indifferent, as if regarding an insignificant object, yet the immense pressure it contained was palpable. Further away, the bespectacled and meticulous Shintaro Midorima was adjusting his wrist guard with precision. The gaze behind his lenses was sharp and calm, like a precision instrument, as if he had already scanned and calculated Yu's height, wingspan, muscle type, and other basic data in an instant.

Just then, a cool, calm voice with undeniable penetrating power rang out at the gym entrance, instantly silencing all noise:

"Everyone, gather."

The voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, like cold jade striking together. Everyone's movements stopped instantly, eyes snapping to the door. A figure with short crimson hair and a well-proportioned, upright build stood there. His face was handsome, his heterochromatic eyes (left gold, right red) like bottomless, cold pools—calm and still, yet seemingly able to see through people. He just stood there, and an intangible, mountain-like pressure spread, freezing the air in the gym. Akashi Seijūrō. Teikō's future absolute core. Though not yet captain, his innate leadership and control already inspired awe in everyone.

Nijimura Shūzō's tall figure appeared right behind Akashi. He strode to the center of the court, his gaze like a solid searchlight sweeping the room, pausing on Shirasawa Yū for a moment with a barely perceptible hint of encouragement.

"Before training starts, I have an announcement." Nijimura's voice was loud and forceful, like a war drum. "First-year student, Shirasawa Yū, from today, officially joins the First-String training roster."

As his words fell, a stifled intake of breath echoed through the gym. Though expected, Nijimura's personal announcement still brought a considerable shock. Gazes once again focused on Yū, the scrutiny even heavier.

Nijimura ignored the reaction below and continued, "Shirasawa Yū, step forward."

Yū calmly stepped up, standing before Nijimura, his posture straight, his gaze as calm as still water, showing no rookie nervousness.

Nijimura's sharp eyes stared straight at him, his voice heavy: "Teikō's First-String is no greenhouse. Here, only strength matters—only what you can do on the court. Prove it to me. Prove it to everyone. Show that Nijimura Shūzō didn't make a mistake!" His voice carried a rough encouragement and heavy expectation.

"Yes, Captain." Yū's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear and firm.

"Good." A glint of approval flashed in Nijimura's eyes. "Now, warm-up's over. Scrimmage, five-on-five full court! Starters versus substitutes plus the freshman!" He quickly read out the team assignments. As expected, Shirasawa Yū was placed on the substitutes-plus-freshman team (White Team), and their opponents were none other than Teikō's First-String regular starters (Red Team)! Aomine Daiki, Akashi Seijūrō, Midorima Shintarō, Murasakibara Atsushi, and an experienced third-year defensive stalwart (Takahashi)!

The gap in lineup strength was obvious at a glance. The White Team members' faces were pale. This was almost an unwinnable practice match, more like a "welcome hazing" for the newcomer.

"Hey, kid," Aomine Daiki grinned, showing a wild smile, his deep-blue eyes burning with fighting spirit. He walked straight up to Yū, his tall frame casting a shadow of pressure. "Don't disappoint me too much." The provocation was undisguised.

Yū looked up, his amber eyes calmly meeting that aggressive gaze without flinching, and replied flatly, "Same to you."

The whistle blew! The battle began!

Red Team tipped off. Akashi Seijūrō steadily controlled the ball, advancing. His movements weren't fast, but they carried a composure that commanded the whole court. His heterochromatic eyes, like the most precise radar, instantly scanned the positions of all his teammates. The White Team's defensive formation seemed like a transparent sand table to him.

"Left!" The White Team's point guard (Satō) guarding Akashi shouted nervously, trying to direct teammates to cover possible passing lanes.

But just as Satō's words left his mouth, Akashi's right wrist, holding the ball, flicked with extreme subtlety! The basketball, as if given life, shot out in a low, swift line hugging the floor, like a scalpel precisely threading the seemingly impossible narrow gap between two White Team defenders!

Target—the left corner!

Almost the instant the ball left his hand, a deep-blue lightning bolt had already launched! Aomine Daiki, like a cheetah catching the scent of blood, shed Yū's tight defense (Yū was pushed slightly off balance by Aomine's strong physical contact after a reverse cut) at a speed beyond normal perception, appearing precisely at the end of the passing lane! Ball and man arrived together!

Catch! No adjustment! Aomine's body, in full motion, forcibly rose from the ground! The movement was wild and full of power and beauty! The White Team's help defender (Ishida) leaped desperately to block, but both his jump height and speed were on a completely different level! Aomine's body in the air was like a drawn bowstring, his arm raised high, and he slammed the ball viciously into the hoop just before the opponent's desperate fingertips could reach it!

"BOOM—!"

The rim groaned in pain! Ishida staggered back from the massive impact!

"1-0!" The senior student acting as referee called out the score, his voice carrying admiration for the perfect coordination.

Fast! Precise! Fierce! The strength of Teikō's regulars was fully displayed in that first attack! The overwhelming pressure, like a tangible tsunami, instantly engulfed the White Team.

"Damn it..." Sato gritted his teeth, his expression sour. He had just dribbled past half-court when Akashi's seemingly unremarkable figure closed in like a phantom. There were no flashy moves, but the precise anticipation, the perfectly timed physical contact, and the relentless pressure clinging to him like a persistent shadow made every dribble feel like dancing on a blade's edge. The suffocating pressure nearly stole his breath away!

"Over here!" The White Team's power forward (Kobayashi) sealed off his position near the free-throw line, reaching for the ball.

Eager to escape Akashi's death grip, Satō attempted a risky bounce pass to Kobayashi! But the moment the ball left his fingertips, a fair, slender hand, as if waiting long in advance, shot out like lightning!

Slap!

A clean steal!

It was Midorima Shintarō! He had somehow precisely predicted the passing lane, like the most accurate interceptor missile!

After the steal, Midorima didn't pause. His arm, like a fully drawn bow, instantly pushed the ball toward Aomine, who had already started his sprint! Another textbook fast break! Aomine caught the ball, the path ahead wide open! He swept through like a black storm, executing another violent dunk!

"2:0!"

In just over ten seconds from the start, the White Team had lost two consecutive points, both from direct steals leading to fast-break counters! Morale instantly hit rock bottom. The substitute players on the sidelines looked defeated, as if they could already see the outcome.

"Focus! Don't panic!" Yū's voice wasn't loud, but it reached every teammate clearly. There was no panic in his amber eyes, only a near-icy calm. "Give me the ball!" He actively ran to the backcourt, reaching for the ball from the flustered Satō.

Satō, like grasping at a lifeline, immediately passed it to him.

Yū caught the ball and steadily controlled the tempo. He didn't rush to advance but slowly dribbled past half-court, his gaze calmly scanning the opponent's defensive formation. Akashi didn't guard him personally; the third-year defensive ace Takahashi was assigned to him. Takahashi was tall and strong, with solid footwork and rich experience. His arms spread wide like a cage, his eyes fierce as he stared at Yū.

"Kid, don't think you can pull any tricks on me!" Takahashi growled, applying psychological pressure.

Yū didn't respond. His dribbling rhythm suddenly quickened. He lowered his center of gravity and faked a hard shoulder drive to the left! The movement was large and incredibly convincing! Takahashi's eyes narrowed, and his weight instinctively shifted half a step to the left!

The moment the weight shifted, Yū's right wrist controlling the ball flicked with lightning speed, like a snake's tongue. The ball, in an incredibly tight space, traced a bizarre arc—from between his own legs, impossibly, to his left hand! At the same time, his shifting body pivoted on his right foot in a back-turn so fast it left only an afterimage! Takahashi felt a blur before his eyes, a gust of wind brushing past his side. By the time he tried to adjust his weight, Yū had already completely blown past him on the right!

"So fast!"

"That crossover again!"

Gasps rose from the sidelines. But Red Team's defensive rotation was lightning fast! The moment You shook off Takahashi, Aomine Daiki's deep blue figure had already ghosted into position to help! His towering frame carried a beastly pressure, instantly sealing You's driving lane! Deep blue eyes burned with excited battle lust: "Bring it on! Show me what you've got!"

Facing this explosive wall that had suddenly materialized before him, You didn't slow down at all! His sprinting body took a massive step forward and to the right at high speed, his entire frame leaning heavily rightward, his gaze sharp as it stabbed to the right, and the basketball in his left hand was pushed out to the right front with extreme exaggeration! A huge, blatantly obvious rightward drive fake!

Aomine's pupils contracted sharply! His superhuman physique and Wildness First Sense instantly caught the details of this move! The angle of the shoulder drop, the focal point of the eyes, the tell of the footwork... too realistic! His center of gravity almost instinctively began shifting right to block!

But in that split-second, at the Critical Point where his center of gravity was about to fully commit, You's heavily leaning body, relying on an absurd core and waist flexibility beyond reason, forcibly halted! As if time had frozen on him for an instant! That exaggerated rightward push of the ball, under a microscopic inward wrist rotation too fast to see, transformed into a high-speed, body-hugging behind-the-back pullback! The basketball, as if pulled by invisible threads, instantly crossed behind his back from the right side and returned to his right hand!

Simultaneously, using the rebound force of his body and the Rhythm Change from that instant freeze, he stomped hard with his left foot, his entire form like a coiled leopard, exploding toward the only gap that had appeared—the left side, created by Aomine's deceived center of gravity!

"Wha...?!" Aomine's eyes flashed with shock! His vaunted Wildness First Sense had been deceived for the first time! That instant freeze and Rhythm Change from his opponent had completely thrown off his prediction! He tried to forcibly twist his center of gravity back, but You's explosive speed was equally astonishing!

One step!

With just one step, using the gap created in that flash of lightning and his own explosive power, You forcibly squeezed half a body length past Aomine's side!

"Stop him!" Akashi's calm voice rang out.

Inside the paint, the Giant Figure like a Wall of Sighs was already in position! Murasakibara Atsushi! His massive frame loomed over the entire restricted area, his huge hands spread wide like a net waiting for prey! A terrifying pressure, like a tangible gravity field, descended instantly!

A giant palm sealing the sky ahead!

Aomine's shadow chasing relentlessly behind!

A dead end!

In midair, You's pupils reflected Murasakibara's sky-obscuring form. Time seemed to stretch. Massive inertia carried him toward that wall of flesh! In the instant before his body would violently collide with Murasakibara, You's superhuman flexibility and core strength burst forth brilliantly for the third time before everyone's eyes!

His forward-charging body forcibly altered its posture in midair! His waist and abdomen twisted as if gripped by an invisible giant hand, his entire frame arching backward impossibly! His Air Time Ability bought him precious adjustment time in the air! At the same time, in a state of extreme torsion, almost facing away from the basket, his right hand, relying on muscle memory from countless practices and astonishing spatial awareness, flicked his wrist with incredible softness, sending the ball toward the hoop in an extremely concealed, small-motion, yet oddly spinning floater!

The ball traced a low, swift arc with heavy backspin, like an agile swallow, slipping through the nearly impossible narrow gap at the very edge of Murasakibara's massive palm's coverage!

"Shua!"

The sound of the ball kissing the backboard and netting, in the suddenly hushed gymnasium, rang out as crisp as a thunderclap!

"Good shot—!!!" After a moment of silence, a huge roar of cheers erupted! The White Team players on the bench jumped up excitedly! This shot was a massive morale boost! Scoring in such an unbelievable way against the combined lockdown of Teikō's two starting aces—Aomine and Murasakibara!

"Uwah..." Murasakibara landed, looking at the rolling ball, seeming a bit surprised. For the first time, his lazy purple eyes fully opened, carrying a hint of confusion and seriousness as they fixed on You, who had just landed. "...Didn't block it?"

Aomine also landed steadily, his deep blue eyes locked onto You. The previous dismissiveness and pure challenge were gone, replaced by a gravity and a more intensely ignited flame. He bared his teeth in an even wilder, more excited grin: "Interesting! Again!"

At the sidelines, Nijimura Shūzō's clenched fist quietly loosened, a nearly sharp curve tugging at his lips. Good kid! Under the pressure of Teikō's Starting Lineup, especially Aomine and Murasakibara, he hadn't collapsed but had delivered such a stunning performance! That calm mind maintained under high-speed confrontation and extreme pressure, that unbelievable body control, and that technique of using deceptive fakes to their utmost... this was exactly the rare talent Teikō's frontline needed most! The last shred of doubt in Nijimura's heart vanished, replaced by deep appreciation and anticipation.

And Akashi Seijūrō, standing silently at the sidelines observing like a precision instrument, a minuscule ripple passed through the depths of his heterochromatic pupils. His gaze, like invisible threads, locked firmly onto Bai Ze You. That drive just now... Aomine had his center of gravity fooled? Even if only for an instant, a freshman who could use Rhythm Change and that bizarre body control to achieve this... Akashi's fingertips unconsciously brushed his sleeve. He picked up the notepad Momoi Satsuki had prepared at the sidelines and quickly scribbled something. Data... more data was needed to analyze this variable named "Bai Ze You." A tiny, cold, and interested curve seemed to touch his lips.

In the shadows of the second-floor viewing platform of the training hall, a figure had appeared again. Kise Ryōta leaned sideways against the railing, his golden eyes sparkling like he'd found a rare treasure, fixed unblinkingly on the silver-haired figure on the court, muttering to himself: "Wow! That move just now! So cool! I wanna learn it! That turn... and that floater... how did he do it?" His face was full of pure excitement and a desire to imitate.

Momoi Satsuki stood at the sidelines, her cherry-pink ponytail swaying slightly with her excitement, her fair cheeks flushed. The pen in her hand danced rapidly across the notepad, recording that breathtaking shot. "Amazing! The instant Rhythm Change... the Deception Level of the fake... the flexibility and core strength of the midair dodge... and the touch on that final floater... Data! The data can't keep up!" She looked up, her bright cherry-pink eyes sparkling as they fixed on You on the court, full of awe and pure research enthusiasm.

After landing, You's body staggered slightly from the extreme midair dodge and twisted exertion, but he quickly steadied himself, his chest rising and falling. He glanced at the scoreboard (2:1), then felt Aomine's hotter gaze, Murasakibara's appraising look, Akashi's cold scrutiny, Nijimura's expectant stare from the sidelines, Momoi's amazed eyes, and Kise's curious gaze from the second floor... He slowly exhaled a mouthful of stale air. Deep in his amber eyes, beneath the well-like stillness, a spark called "fighting spirit" had finally been fully ignited, burning silently.

The Trial Ground of Teikō's first-string team—the real battle had just begun. The White Phantom's dance steps would carve even more breathtaking rhythms on this stage of gathered powerhouses.