"Go pick up the ball, trash." Ken Kaneki stared down Shogo Haizaki, radiating an overbearing presence. His deep voice sounded like the decree of a tyrant. "I still have to teach you how to shoot the other four."
Haizaki stared at Kaneki, despair flickering in his eyes. The only reason he hadn't bolted was that Shuzo Nijimura was watching him like a hawk from the sidelines. Having grown up as a delinquent, Haizaki knew all too well what Nijimura could do.
Figuring it was best not to pick a fight when the odds were against him, Haizaki gritted his teeth, obediently picked up the basketball, and tossed it to Kaneki.
"Hmph. At least you've got some backbone." Kaneki let out a disdainful chuckle, throwing Haizaki's earlier words right back at him.
"You've only made one shot. Don't act like you've already beaten me." If looks could kill, Haizaki would have torn Kaneki to pieces by now.
"That's inevitable, and you'll see yourself lose soon enough." Kaneki dribbled between his legs twice as he backed up to a spot two steps beyond the three-point line, then stopped where Haizaki had missed his shot earlier. "But since Coach assigned me to teach you, I'll start by showing you how to shoot a three from this distance."
Kaneki stood beyond the three-point line, his feet slightly apart and his center of gravity lowered. He held the ball lightly in both hands, pushed off the ground, and soared into the air like an arrow loosed from its bow. At the peak of his jump, he swiftly extended his arms and flicked his wrist. The ball traced a perfect arc through the air, heading straight for the hoop.
"From that far... there's no way it'll go in!" Haizaki stared at Kaneki, who was almost at the halfway line, too stunned to defend. He only snapped out of it and looked toward the hoop after Kaneki had released the ball.
But things didn't go the way Haizaki imagined. With a crisp swish, the ball dropped through the net. Kaneki landed steadily, a confident smile on his face—the absolute confidence of someone who knew what he could do.
Unlike his previous three-pointer, this one was a textbook one-motion shot.
"This... from this distance..." Shintaro Midorima watched Kaneki's three-pointer, his mind in turmoil. "If I could shoot a three from there too... No, I can't. I don't have enough strength... But if I train harder, even if it takes me longer to gather power, it'll be worth it!"
If Kaneki could've heard Midorima's thoughts, he would've called the idea completely unorthodox. In a matchup between top players, even a second was a long time. Taking too long to gather power only increased the risk of getting blocked. When it came to shooting, as long as it didn't hurt your accuracy, the shorter the windup, the better...
Kaneki had no idea that his Logo shot had led Midorima down the wrong path. At that moment, all he wanted was to stylishly crush Haizaki.
Haizaki's nerves were stretched taut. He stared at Kaneki as if he were looking at a demon.
There was no denying that Haizaki was talented. Most of the moves he saw, he could make his own. He could even alter the timing at key points in the motion and steal an opponent's move right under their nose. That alone showed how solid his fundamentals were and how soft his touch was. It was no coincidence that Nijimura had recommended him to Coach Kōzō Shirogane. Nijimura, who had also been a street delinquent, sincerely hoped that basketball could change Haizaki.
But when faced with an overwhelming gap in talent, being merely gifted wasn't enough. Kaneki might have been the most physically gifted member of the Generation of Miracles, and though his talent hadn't fully blossomed yet, Haizaki couldn't hope to compete with him as he was now.
"By the way, trash." Kaneki dribbled casually beyond the three-point line, like he was strolling through a garden. He looked at Haizaki, whose forehead was slick with cold sweat and who seemed like a frightened bird, and spoke coldly. "I remember you deliberately circling around me during the third possession. You're way too arrogant. Even Daiki Aomine wouldn't use me as a practice dummy to work on his drives. As payback, I'll show you what a real drive looks like!"
As Kaneki finished speaking, his presence seemed to blend into the air around him, and his dribbling suddenly became impossible to read. What had seemed like ordinary ball handling became unpredictable in his hands. Behind-the-back dribbles, between-the-legs dribbles—his movements flowed together at dizzying speed, making it impossible to track the ball. Yet the sound of the ball hitting the ground beat against Haizaki's heart like a relentless drum, pressing down on him.
Just as the onlookers expected Kaneki to charge in, he seemed to make a mistake and rushed to the right. But the ball bounced in the opposite direction, as if it had eyes, seemingly offering itself straight into Haizaki's arms.
"What... what's going on?" Haizaki's instincts told him this was no simple mistake. But a player's instincts made it impossible to resist the ball. His hand reached out for it before he could stop himself.
Watching from the sidelines, Daiki Aomine covered his face with one hand and sighed. "It's over. Kaneki's about to make a fool of him."
Sure enough, just as Haizaki's hand was about to touch the ball, a long, slender arm appeared in his line of sight and snatched it away. Haizaki had shifted his weight to reach for the ball, and Kaneki slipped past him with ease.
"Bastard! Stop right there!" Humiliated again and again, Haizaki's anger shattered his composure. He quickly adjusted his stance and leaped in front of Kaneki. He wasn't even trying to block the shot anymore; he just wanted to vent his frustration by knocking Kaneki over as he gathered the ball for a layup. But when they collided in midair, Haizaki felt as if he'd slammed into a stone wall. He was thrown backward.
"Ah, not bad. You actually managed to catch up." Kaneki had been fouled, but a slight flex of his core was all it took to steady himself. He even sounded impressed. "Still, you're trash."
Using the force of the collision, Kaneki drifted slowly toward the boundary. Just as he was about to hit the ground, he casually tossed the ball backward. Haizaki stared at him as if he'd seen a ghost as the ball swished through the hoop.
"That was... my... No, I still can't do that..." Even the usually carefree Aomine was stunned by Kaneki's shot. He could clearly see a reflection of himself in Kaneki, but Kaneki had pulled it off far better than Aomine could.
"Man, this guy can do anything and still surprise me!" Aomine laughed excitedly. "Come to think of it, I've never played one-on-one with Kaneki. I can't wait for that day!"
Haizaki on the court definitely didn't feel the same way. His mind was already on the verge of breaking.
Before you continue