The Forgotten Genius

"Waaaahhh—!!!"

The long-silent Shohoku bench exploded.

"It went in!! Mitsui!! A three-pointer!!"

Kiminobu Kogure leaped up in excitement, nearly flinging off his glasses.

"We're ahead! We're ahead!" Yasuda and Shiozaki shouted as they embraced.

On the court.

Hisashi Mitsui held his shooting form, his right hand raised high as he lightly clenched it into a fist.

Then he turned around and flashed Takenori Akagi a brilliant smile.

"Nice pass, Akagi."

Akagi looked at his former teammate, and a faint smile appeared on his stern face as well.

"Beautiful shot."

At the Ryonan coaches' bench.

Taoka Moichi slapped his thigh hard, his face full of astonishment.

"That's it!!"

"How could I have forgotten that?!"

He pointed at the spirited figure on the court, his voice rising out of tune.

"Shoyo miscalculated! Fujima miscalculated!"

"They were so focused on defending Akagi's inside attacks and Miyagi's drives that they overlooked this man!"

"The former middle school MVP! The deadly sharpshooter with terrifying range—Hisashi Mitsui!!"

"As long as he's there, Shoyo's extreme collapsing defense is just asking to die!!"

Akira Sendoh looked at Mitsui, surprise flashing through his eyes.

"So this is Shohoku's trump card..."

"Akagi on the inside, Mitsui on the outside, with Miyagi and Kaede Rukawa in between..."

"This team's offense is truly terrifying."

Shohoku's cheers rang throughout the arena.

Miyagi rushed over and high-fived Mitsui. "Mitsui-senpai! That shot felt so good!"

Though Hanamichi Sakuragi was a little annoyed that the spotlight had been stolen, he still shouted, "Mitchy! Not bad!"

However.

Just as Shohoku was immersed in the joy of taking the lead.

A powerful aura suddenly spread from the other end of the court.

The cheering spectators gradually fell quiet.

Everyone's eyes turned, almost unconsciously, toward Shoyo's bench.

There.

Fujima Kenji slowly rose to his feet.

Expressionless, he reached out and unzipped his jacket.

"Whoosh—"

His green-and-white Shoyo warm-up jacket slid off, revealing the number 4 jersey beneath.

He bent over and began stretching his legs.

His movements were unhurried, but every motion was filled with strength.

"Fu... Fujima is going in?!"

Someone in the stands cried out.

"No way? The first half isn't even over yet!"

"Looks like he's finally been pushed too far!"

"As soon as Fujima takes the court, Shoyo will be complete!"

Seeing this, Shoyo's cheer squad erupted into shouts ten times more fervent than before.

"Fujima! Fujima! Fujima!"

The roar was like mountains collapsing and seas crashing, painful enough to make ears ring.

On the court.

Toru Hanagata watched Fujima warm up, adjusted his glasses, and said quietly:

"So he finally couldn't hold back..."

"Looks like the warm-up is over."

At the Shohoku bench.

Lin Bei, who had been yawning moments ago, now sat upright.

He watched the figure stretching at the sideline, a sharp glint flashing through his eyes.

"So it's finally coming?"

Lin Bei rolled his neck, producing a series of loud cracks.

"Now then..."

"Now this counts as a real game."

He turned to Coach Anzai.

"Old man, looks like I can't keep resting either."

Coach Anzai chuckled, a white gleam flashing across his lenses.

"No rush."

"Let the storm rage a little harder."

Shohoku's lead was like pouring a ladleful of cold water into a pot of boiling oil.

The entire gymnasium erupted in an instant.

The whispers in the stands gradually converged into a wave of noise that could no longer be ignored.

People stared at the man who had just sunk a three-pointer and was now high-fiving his teammates, as the floodgates of memory were suddenly thrown open.

"Hey, that number 14... I remember now!"

A boy wearing a sports university T-shirt slapped his thigh.

Pointing at Hisashi Mitsui on the court, his voice trembled with excitement.

"He's Hisashi Mitsui! It's definitely him!"

"Hisashi Mitsui? Who's that?" His companion looked utterly confused.

"Idiot! Have you forgotten the prefectural tournament three years ago?"

"Takeishi Middle School's MVP!"

"The man who led his team to the championship with godlike three-pointers and a comeback victory in the final moments!"

"I can't believe he's at Shohoku!"

The boy gestured wildly, spraying saliva as he spoke.

His words spread through the stands like a virus.

"Oh my God, it really is him!"

"That MVP actually came back?"

"No wonder his form is so beautiful. That's a textbook-level jumper!"

Then, the spectators began reassessing Shohoku's lineup.

The contempt in their eyes turned into astonishment, even awe.

"Look at Shohoku's lineup..."

Someone began counting on his fingers.

"They've got Takenori Akagi, one of the best centers in the prefecture, on the inside, and MVP sharpshooter Hisashi Mitsui on the perimeter."

"Then there's Ryota Miyagi, who moves like lightning, plus rookie Kaede Rukawa, who can go toe-to-toe with Shoyo..."

"Hiss—"

Sharp intakes of breath rose one after another.

"This lineup is ridiculously stacked!"

"So Shohoku getting this far really wasn't luck."

"This is practically an All-Star starting lineup!"

Hearing the overwhelming praise around him, Hanamichi Sakuragi, standing beneath the basket, twitched his ears.

With his hands on his hips, he wore a smug grin and raised his nostrils toward the sky.

He even deliberately tossed his red hair, waiting for praise meant for the "genius."

Yet one second passed.

Then ten seconds passed.

The discussion remained heated, but it was as if an invisible barrier had automatically filtered out the existence of one redhead.

"Akagi is amazing!"

"Kaede Rukawa is so cool!"

"Mitsui's threes are so accurate!"

"Miyagi is so fast!"

The smile on Sakuragi's face gradually stiffened.

Then it crumbled, finally turning into a face full of dark lines and bulging veins.

"Hey..."

"You blind idiots..."

Sakuragi's mouth twitched. His fists clenched tightly, and his body trembled slightly with extreme rage.

He suddenly spun around, baring his teeth at the stands as the little drama in his head exploded:

Why?!

Why is no one mentioning this genius?!

I'm the one who grabbed those rebounds!

I'm the one charging in and out of that forest of giants! Are you all blind?!

Damn it! I'll show you who Shohoku's true savior is!

Sakuragi ground his teeth in fury.

Just as he was about to rush over and argue with the girl who only knew how to praise Kaede Rukawa, a hand pressed down on his shoulder.

"Don't embarrass yourself, Hanamichi."

"That's the fate of a supporting character. Accept it."

Miyagi passed by him, casually patting his back with a mischievous grin.

"Chaos Miyagi! Who are you calling a supporting character?!" Sakuragi roared.

While Shohoku was still making a fuss over who the protagonist was.

A change that made the entire arena hold its breath was taking place at Shoyo's bench.

The man who had been sitting at the sideline with his jacket draped over him.

Fujima Kenji raised his hand, ready to enter the game.

The moment he revealed his number 4 jersey, the entire Shoyo section erupted in thunderous cheers.

"Fujima! Fujima! Fujima!"