The bus slowly pulled up outside the dedicated entrance to Hiroshima's massive gymnasium.
Before the windows had fully rolled down, deafening waves of sound poured in along with the hot summer wind.
"Shohoku! Shohoku! Kudo! Kudo!"
"Number one ace! Look this way!"
"Hanamichi Sakuragi! Rebound king!"
Countless fans holding signs and cameras packed both sides of the passage.
The media's cameras instantly swung into focus, their flashes crackling almost loudly enough to drown out the cheering crowd.
After their legendary victory over Sannoh, the Shohoku team, once a dark horse, had become the focus of national attention, carrying countless people's hopes that the miracle would continue.
The bus doors opened, and Coach Anzai stepped out first, his face as serene as a Buddha's.
Behind him came their captain, Takenori Akagi, on crutches. His steps were heavy, but his back remained straight, and his resolute gaze swept over the crowd like an unseen stabilizing force.
The players filed out.
Ryota Miyagi lowered the brim of his cap, trying to block the dazzling camera flashes, but his tightly pressed lips betrayed his tension.
Hisashi Mitsui's eyelids drooped, and the dark circles beneath his eyes spoke of exhaustion, yet whenever he looked up, an undying flame still flickered in his eyes.
Kaede Rukawa... remained as indifferent as ever to the commotion around him, merely flexing his wrist unconsciously.
Hanamichi Sakuragi was unusually "quiet." Rather than making his usual racket, he frowned and kept looking from side to side, as though searching for an invisible opponent, muttering, "Hakata Commercial... Hakata Commercial..."
Ryota Kudo was the last to leave the bus.
He took a deep breath of the dry, hot air. The slight dizziness left over from his desperate battle against Sannoh seemed not to have fully faded, and a faint, rusty sweetness still lingered