"Alright, it's time! Let's hit the court!" Miyamoto's voice echoed through the locker room, carrying an undeniable sense of determination.
A moment later, Kawamura sprang to his feet, his eyes burning with determination—like a beast ready to be unleashed.
"Alright! Let's go!" His voice was loud and powerful, each word striking like a war drum, igniting the fire within his teammates.
"Yeah!" The rest of the team stood up in unison, their movements synchronized. They adjusted their jerseys, fixing the collars and sleeves, making sure everything was perfect before stepping onto the battlefield.
As they walked out of the locker room, the players of Fukui felt an intense atmosphere settle over them.
Their footsteps echoed through the hallway, each step in sync with the pounding of their hearts—faster, heavier, more intense.
Before long, they emerged from the tunnel, greeted by an eruption of deafening cheers.
"FUKUI! FUKUI!"
"SHIRO! SHIRO!"
"MOYUN! MOYUN!"
The sheer volume felt like it could shake the entire arena. All 55,000 seats were packed—there wasn't an empty spot in sight.
Seeing the ocean of people, Shiro and the others couldn't help but be momentarily stunned. Their hearts pounded wildly, each beat resonating with the energy of the crowd.
But they had been on big stages before. It didn't take long for them to steady themselves.
Shiro took a deep breath, feeling the tension and anticipation thick in the air.
At the far end of the arena, another tunnel door slowly opened. A spotlight illuminated its entrance, as if heralding the arrival of giants.
As the doors fully swung open, towering figures stepped out, one by one — the players of Yosen, a powerhouse team.
"It's Yosen!" The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, filled with awe and excitement.
"Damn, they're huge!" Someone in the stands gasped in disbelief.
"No wonder they shut teams out so often!" Another spectator chimed in, acknowledging Yosen's defensive dominance.
"This is it—an unstoppable offense versus an unbreakable defense!" The anticipation in the arena was palpable. The battle that was about to unfold had the crowd on the edge of their seats before the game had even begun.
Leading Yosen was Okamura, his strong, square-jawed face exuding composure and determination.
His strides were firm and powerful, carrying an air of unwavering confidence.
Walking beside him was Himuro, instantly drawing attention. With a cool smile, he waved to the crowd, his relaxed demeanor and quiet charisma instantly winning over the female fans in attendance.
But the one who commanded the most attention was Murasakibara.
The towering center stood like an immovable fortress, his absurd wingspan making him seem larger than life. Casually munching on a snack, his expression was completely indifferent—as if the roaring crowd and the upcoming game were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"He's a giant!" The audience gasped in awe, their eyes glued to Murasakibara.
As one of the most dominant forces in the paint, his presence alone was enough to strike fear into opponents. His defense was impenetrable, his shot-blocking ability a nightmare for any scorer daring to challenge him at the rim.
With each Yosen player stepping onto the court, the atmosphere inside the Tokyo Dome reached a fever pitch. The showdown was about to begin.
The crowd's discussions, cheers, and gasps blended together, creating an electrifying tension in the air.
Everyone was anticipating this matchup—the clash of the unbreakable shield vs. the unstoppable spear.
The players from Yosen glanced toward Fukui's bench, only to meet the gaze of Shiro and his teammates, who were already looking their way.
Shiro flashed a small, confident smile before shifting his focus back to warm-ups with his team.
On the sidelines, Himuro kept his eyes locked on Shiro.
It felt almost surreal, but he could feel the sheer presence emanating from his opponent—like the weight of an emperor's aura, silently dominating the space around him.
A trace of unease crept into Himuro's mind, but he quickly shook it off, regaining his composure. His gaze hardened as he watched Shiro walk away.
"That pressure… it's insane" Himuro muttered under his breath, his voice carrying the faintest tremor.
Okamura, Yosen's captain, noticed Himuro's reaction. He stepped forward and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Still worried?" Okamura asked, his tone calm but laced with concern.
Himuro turned to him with a wry smile, his voice tinged with helplessness. "A little… I can already feel how dominant Shiro is."
But then, his expression grew serious, his voice firm: "But I won't back down."
Seeing the determination in Himuro's eyes, Okamura felt his own worries ease—if only slightly.
Suddenly, a sharp-featured face appeared beside them—it was Liu, a foreign exchange student from China.
Liu was easily one of the tallest players in Interhigh, second only to Murasakibara. At NBA small forward height, he was a towering presence on the court.
His physique made him stand out, but his offensive game was somewhat limited—he relied mostly on putbacks and second-chance points in the paint.
That said, his combination of agility, vertical leap, and instinctive rebounding made him a legitimate force under the basket.
But if he had to go one-on-one with Shiro? He'd get cooked.
"Technically, your matchup should be with Moyun" Liu said evenly, his expression neutral. "Shiro is mine to deal with."
Himuro's eyes flicked toward Moyun, who was casually sinking three-pointers in warm-ups.
Himuro knew he couldn't underestimate him.
He had seen footage of Moyun before—this was a guy who had once gone toe-to-toe with Midorima, one of the Generation of Miracles' deadliest sharpshooters. That alone proved his shooting was no joke.
Even so, Himuro didn't let doubt creep in.
He took a deep breath, adjusted his mindset, and quickly joined Yosen's warm-ups.
He understood that only through relentless preparation could he ensure he was at his best when the game tipped off.
Meanwhile, over on the Yosen bench, Fukui smirked as he patted Murasakibara on the back.
"Honestly, their inside presence is weak this game. You'll have a huge advantage down low."
"Hmm… maybe." Murasakibara responded in his usual lazy drawl, sounding utterly uninterested.
But as his gaze drifted toward the court, something in his eyes sharpened. He scanned the floor, taking in the competition, before finally locking onto Shiro.
For Murasakibara, Shiro was one of the few players who truly threatened him.
In fact, there were only two opponents he had ever feared — Shiro and Akashi.
Both had left a lasting mark on him.
Shiro, in particular, had been even more terrifying than Akashi back in middle school.
To Murasakibara, these two felt like insurmountable obstacles. No matter how dominant he was, he never dared assume victory against them.
"Ugh… what a pain." Murasakibara muttered under his breath, already dreading the matchup ahead.