April 1991, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan.
In the last row by the window of Class 3-6 at Wako Middle School, a tall, red-haired boy rested his chin on one hand, absentmindedly staring out the window.
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Fifteen years old.
186 centimeters tall.
Wako Middle School’s most notorious delinquent.
He had never lost a fight.
He had also never succeeded in confessing to a girl.
His current record stood at zero victories and thirty-four consecutive rejections.
Shouts drifted in from the playground outside.
Squinting slightly, Sakuragi glanced toward the basketball court.
A few boys were dribbling across the asphalt, driving toward the basket as the rhythmic pounding of the basketball echoed through the schoolyard.
“Tch.” Curling his lip in disdain, he looked away, letting his gaze settle on a few cherry blossom leaves that had blown onto the windowsill.
But the knot of confusion inside his mind tightened once more.
That dream again…
For the past several days, he’d been having the exact same dream.
In it…
He was playing basketball.
A gigantic arena.
Blinding floodlights.
Packed stands filled with cheering spectators—every single one of them foreigners.
The deafening roar of the crowd made his ears ring.
He ran across a court in a place called the…
N…
B…
A…
Sakuragi irritably scratched his head.
But why…
Why was he always sitting on the bench?
He only got to play occasionally, and every time it was during something called “garbage time.” He had no idea what that meant.
Still, everyone around him in the dream kept saying it, as though they were telling him: “Just go out there and fool around.
It doesn’t matter anymore.” That irritated him the most.
Even worse…
He was shorter.
Much shorter.
From his current towering height of 186 centimeters, he’d somehow shrunk to around 170.
Wasn’t that way too much of a downgrade?
And then there was the strangest part…
What was his name in that dream again?
Sakuragi frowned deeply as he searched his memory.
“Kawa…” “Kawamura…” “…Right.” Yuki Kawamura.
That was his name.
Although he was short, his dribbling was unbelievably quick.
Even now, the crisp rhythm of the ball bouncing beneath his fingertips echoed vividly in his mind.
His shooting was terrifyingly accurate.
Especially something called a…
Three-pointer.
He could stand far away from the basket, casually release the ball…
And it would swish cleanly through the net.
“…Am I losing my mind?” Sakuragi muttered to himself.
Another spring breeze drifted through the window, carrying soft pink cherry blossoms that landed silently on the windowsill.
This dream…
It was simply too bizarre.
Who was he?
He was Sakuragi Hanamichi!
The undefeated Sakuragi Hanamichi!
How could he possibly become some undersized basketball player?
Yet…
The dream felt frighteningly real.
Even after waking up, he could still remember the sensation of dribbling.
His palms seemed to retain the feel of the basketball, while his fingertips could almost distinguish every tiny groove on its surface.
Just then, someone suddenly called out beside him.
“Hey…
Sakuragi!” The break bell had apparently rung without him noticing.
Startled, he turned his head.
A familiar face was leaning toward him, wearing the unmistakable grin of someone who had been observing him for quite some time.
It was Mito Yohei.
His best friend.
And one of the very few people who dared approach him while he was lost in thought.
“What?” Sakuragi asked impatiently.
“I should be asking you that.” Yohei pulled out the chair beside him and casually sat down, resting one arm across the backrest.
“The bell rang ages ago.” “You seriously didn’t hear it?” “Huh?” Sakuragi blinked.
“It did?” “It sure did.” Yohei chuckled.
“You’ve been sitting in that exact same position the entire class.
Didn’t move a muscle.” Before Sakuragi could respond, three more figures rushed over together.
Takamiya Nozomi.
Ohkusu Yuji.
Noma Chuichirou.
The infamous trio of the Sakuragi Army crowded around him all at once.
Takamiya’s chubby face squeezed between the others as his eyes disappeared into a grin.
“Yo, Sakuragi.” “You don’t look too good.” Ohkusu nodded repeatedly.
“You’re not still hung up over yesterday, are you?” Noma, as always, got straight to the point.
“It was only your thirty-fourth rejection.” “No big deal!” “Just keep trying!” Takamiya burst into laughter.
“Exactly!
Go for the record!” “Let’s see you reach fifty straight rejections before high school!” Ohkusu became excited as well.
“Hey!
That girl Yoko from the next class is pretty cute.” “Wanna confess to her during lunch?” “We’ll cheer you on!” “Yeah!” Noma grinned mischievously.
“We’ve gotta witness history when you break your own record!” A vein bulged on Sakuragi’s forehead.
“You idiots…” He slowly rose to his feet.
His right fist clenched tightly.
Crack…
His knuckles popped audibly.
Yohei reacted instantly.
Sliding his chair backward in one smooth motion, he immediately put several steps between them before raising both hands innocently.
“Don’t look at me.” “I didn’t say a word.” Unfortunately…
Takamiya.
Ohkusu.
And Noma.
None of them had sensed the incoming disaster.
They were still laughing.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three devastating headbutts landed in a single fluid motion.
Takamiya’s forehead.
Ohkusu’s forehead.
Noma’s forehead.
All three collided head-on with Sakuragi’s iron-hard skull almost simultaneously.
A split second later…
The trio collapsed onto the floor like puppets whose strings had been cut.
From where he stood, Yohei could swear he saw steam rising from each of their foreheads.
The classroom instantly fell silent.
Several girls gasped and instinctively covered their mouths before hurriedly backing away.
The boys in the back, however, merely sighed.
“…There he goes again.” “Sakuragi seems especially grumpy today.” “Well, he got rejected yesterday.” “Wasn’t that his thirty-fourth time already?” “I thought he’d gotten used to it.” “Shh!” “Keep your voice down!” Ignoring everyone else, Sakuragi dropped back into his chair with a loud scrape.
The chair legs screeched harshly against the floor.
Yohei dragged his chair back over, glanced at the three unconscious idiots sprawled across the classroom, then turned toward Sakuragi.
“So…” “What were you thinking about earlier?” His expression became more serious.
“It wasn’t because of the rejection, was it?” “You’ve been rejected plenty of times before.” “I’ve never seen you like this.” Sakuragi remained silent for a while.
“…Yohei.” “Yeah?” “I’m going to tell you something.” “But don’t laugh.” “Go ahead.” Taking a deep breath, Sakuragi finally spoke.
“I’ve been having this weird dream.” “A dream?” “Yeah.” “In it…” “I’m playing basketball.” He frowned, struggling to put the strange memories into words.
“The arena is huge.” “The lights are unbelievably bright.” “The floor’s so polished you can practically see your own reflection.” “The stands are packed.” “And the cheering…” “It’s so loud it hurts my ears.” Yohei listened quietly.
“And in that dream…” “My name is something like…” “Yuki Kawamura.” A conflicted look crossed Sakuragi’s face.
“I’m really short.” “But my dribbling is insanely fast.” “And my shooting…” “It’s ridiculously accurate.” “There’s this thing called a Three-pointer.” “I just stand far away, throw the ball…” “And it goes in every single time.” “…NBA?” Yohei suddenly interrupted.
Sakuragi froze.
“Huh?” “That N-something-A you mentioned.” “You mean the NBA?” “The American professional basketball league.” “It’s always on TV.” Sakuragi’s eyes lit up.
“That’s it!” “NBA!” Yohei thought for a moment before asking, “Have you been watching basketball recently?” Sakuragi opened his mouth…
Then stopped.
Over the past few days, he’d been working part-time at the neighborhood convenience store after school.
The owner always left the small television beside the register switched on.
Now that he thought about it…
It had indeed been showing basketball games.
Foreign players wearing colorful uniforms sprinted across polished hardwood courts.
Sneakers squeaked.
Commentators spoke nonstop.
“…Yeah.” He nodded honestly.
“The TV at the convenience store always has basketball on.” Yohei smiled knowingly.
“Well.” “That explains it.” He patted Sakuragi on the shoulder.
“What you think about during the day, you dream about at night.” “You watched basketball.” “So naturally you dreamed about playing it.” “Nothing strange about that.” “But…” “It felt so real.” Sakuragi still wasn’t convinced.
“I even remember my name.” “Yuki Kawamura.” “When I dribbled…” “I could actually feel the vibration travel from my fingertips all the way up my arm.” Yohei asked another question.
“So…” “Did you at least dream about winning?” Sakuragi thought carefully.
At that point…
The dream became hazy.
Like ink dissolving in water.
Only scattered fragments remained.
The icy coldness of the bench.
The deafening cheers.
And the coach reluctantly calling him onto the court.
“…No.” “I was always sitting on the bench.” Yohei couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
“That’s one depressing dream.” “Exactly!” Sakuragi slapped the desk.
“How could I, Sakuragi Hanamichi, ever sit on the bench?” “If I played basketball…” “I’d obviously be the greatest genius on the entire court!” The moment those words left his mouth…
Takamiya, who was still lying motionless on the floor, weakly muttered, “…Some genius…” “…Can’t even succeed after thirty-four confessions…” BAM!
The fourth headbutt landed.
Takamiya Nozomi fell completely silent.