Want to Learn Special Moves? Master Dribbling First!

"Dr... dribbling?"

The excitement and admiration on Hanamichi Sakuragi's face froze instantly.

He dug at his ears, thinking he had misheard.

"Lord Shirakawa, what did you just say? I didn't catch that."

"I said dribbling." Shirakawa patiently repeated himself, his smile utterly harmless. "The most basic kind—dribbling in place."

"..."

Sakuragi's expression visibly shifted from anticipation to disappointment, then from disappointment to confusion.

"Why?" he could not help asking. "Don't I already know how to dribble? You just bounce the ball on the ground, right? What's there to practice?"

To him, something as basic as dribbling was not worth wasting time on.

What he wanted to learn were magical dribbles like Shirakawa's, the kind that made the ball disappear, and absurd shots that could sink baskets from half a court away!

Not this kind of "bouncing a ball" that even elementary school kids could do!

"You know how?"

Shirakawa raised an eyebrow, and his smile turned slightly dangerous.

"Fine, then. Show me how you dribble."

"I'll dribble, all right! Witness this genius's skills!"

Brimming with confidence, Sakuragi took the basketball from Shirakawa and began dribbling in place. "Thump, thump, thump."

As he dribbled, he had to keep his head lowered and stare fixedly at the unruly basketball, terrified that it might fly into the sky the next second.

His entire movement was stiff, clumsy, and utterly uncoordinated.

Shirakawa simply watched him in silence.

After around ten seconds, Sakuragi felt as though his neck were about to snap, and his hand had begun to ache.

"H-how was that, Lord Shirakawa? This genius's dribbling was pretty good, right?" He lifted his head and asked between pants, his face plainly saying, "Praise me already."

Shirakawa did not answer. He merely suddenly extended a foot and gave a light hook.

"Ah!"

Sakuragi only felt his foot catch on something, and his whole body lost balance as he pitched forward.

The basketball in his hand also slipped out of control, bouncing several meters away with a thump before rolling into the grass by the roadside.

"Ow!"

Sakuragi hit the ground face-first and scrambled up in a disheveled state.

"Lord Shirakawa! Why did you sneak-attack me?!" He clutched his aching nose and protested indignantly.

"Sneak-attack?" Shirakawa spread his hands with an innocent look. "I only wanted to test your reaction speed."

He walked over to Sakuragi and looked down at him.

"Do you still think you know how to dribble?"

"..."

Sakuragi's face instantly turned red as a baboon's backside.

He had nothing to say.

In that instant just now, all his attention had been on the basketball. He had not noticed Shirakawa's movement at all.

If this had been a real game, his opponents would have stolen the ball from him eight hundred times already.

"You don't even have the most basic feel for the ball or coordination between your body and the ball. Your eyes cannot leave it when you dribble, and your center of gravity is as high as a telephone pole. With skills like that, you want to learn special moves?"

Shirakawa mercilessly tore into him.

"Do you know that every move I used today, whether driving past defenders or shooting, was built on absolute control over the basketball?"

"Dribbling is the foundation of basketball! If the foundation is unstable, everything else is a castle in the air!"

"You cannot even walk steadily, yet you want to learn to run—and even fly? Do you think that's possible?"

Every word Shirakawa said struck Sakuragi's heart like a hammer.

Sakuragi lowered his head and said nothing.

He might have been a basketball idiot, but he was not stupid.

He understood Shirakawa's words.

He had been too eager to reach the top in one leap.

"S-sorry, Lord Shirakawa. I was wrong." Sakuragi's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

"It's good that you know you were wrong." Seeing him so dejected, Shirakawa softened his tone. "There are no shortcuts on the path to becoming a master. You have to plant every step firmly."

He patted Sakuragi on the shoulder.

"So starting tomorrow, stay behind for an extra hour of dribbling practice after training every day."

"Alternate between your left and right hands. High dribbles, low dribbles, forward and backward dribbles—practice every kind until you can do them flawlessly with your eyes closed."

"When you can chat with me while dribbling, and not lose the ball even if I sneak-attack you, I'll teach you the next step."

"Can you do it?"

Shirakawa's gaze became more serious than ever.

Hanamichi Sakuragi raised his head and looked into Shirakawa's bright eyes.

Within those eyes, he saw sternness, expectation, and a path toward becoming strong—difficult, yet clearly visible.

A surge of passion rose from the depths of his heart.

"I can do it!"

Hanamichi Sakuragi straightened his back and shouted at the top of his lungs.

His voice echoed through the silent night sky for a long, long time.

"Very good." Shirakawa smiled in satisfaction.

He was teachable after all.

"Then... Lord Shirakawa," Sakuragi said, rubbing his hands together as he returned to his usual cheeky grin. He asked cautiously, "I have one more question."

"Speak."

"Um... can I skip eating bread upside down?"

"What do you think?" Shirakawa revealed a devilish smile.