CHAPTER 56: THE CEREMONY

The low rumble of the minibus echoed as it pulled into the circular driveway of Kyo Arena—Kyoto’s newest and most dazzling stadium. A sleek marvel of steel and glass greeted the arriving teams. Above the entrance, massive banners flapped like flags of war, proudly announcing the start of the Kansai Regional Tournament.

The vehicle came to a smooth stop.

With a soft hiss, the door slid open.

Dirga stepped out first, the soles of his sneakers meeting the pavement with a quiet thud. He looked up—and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. The stadium towered above, far grander than any court he had ever set foot on. Even during his past life in Europe, training had consumed him so thoroughly that he barely remembered moments like this. He never allowed himself to enjoy them.

Now, he did.

One word escaped his lips. "Big."

But it wasn’t just the size. The stadium felt alive.

Crowds flooded the surrounding plaza—cheering, waving school flags, clapping in bursts. Teams from all over Kansai were arriving in waves, wearing their colors like armor. Family members wore handmade T-shirts, classmates lifted painted banners bearing school mottos, and food stalls lined the perimeter, trailing the scent of grilled squid and sweet soy dango through the morning air.

Dirga turned his head slowly, soaking it all in.

So this is what it feels like... to stand at the start.

The rest of Horizon High’s team filed out behind him.

Their uniforms made them stand out—jet black PE jackets slashed with red across the chest and shoulders. Under the sun, the fabric shimmered faintly, casting an aura of quiet intensity. It wasn’t just a look—it was a declaration. The colors had been chosen carefully. Inspired by the image of a black hole: mysterious, powerful, consuming everything in its path.

Together, they moved like a single body—black and red cutting through the swirling chaos of the plaza. People turned to watch. Some whispered. They weren’t the loudest team here, but their presence was undeniable.

"Okay team, we’re heading in for the opening ceremony," said Sayaka, her voice crisp and commanding. Clipboard in hand, eyes sharp behind her glasses, she looked every bit like a general ready for battle. "We’re scheduled as Game 3 on Court 2. We’ll register, attend the ceremony, then head to the waiting area."

Coach Tsugawa stepped out of the bus last, hands in his pockets, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Calm. Collected. Dangerous.

"Move with discipline," was all he said.

No loud pep talk. No theatrics.

Just that.

And it was enough.

The team snapped into formation, with Kaito leading at the front, carrying the folded Horizon banner. Dirga walked beside him, scanning every detail—the giant LED screens playing tournament trailers, bracket posters fluttering in the wind, the digital clocks counting down to the first game.

"Yo, Kaito-senpai," Dirga murmured. "What do you think of the stadium?"

Kaito didn’t look away from the towering glass doors ahead.

"A good stadium," he said. "New. Clean. Big enough to echo. I like it."

Dirga smirked faintly.

This guy never changes.

Inside, the arena’s ceremony hall was already buzzing. All sixteen qualifying teams had arrived—the elite from Shiga, Kyoto, Osaka, Hyōgo, Nara, Wakayama, plus two wild cards. School banners hung from rafters, while tournament officials zipped around with clipboards, checking names and guiding players to their rows.

Everywhere Dirga looked, he saw serious faces. Polished teams. Focused eyes.

And Horizon High stood among them.

A crackle from the overhead speakers broke the hum.

"Attention all teams. The opening ceremony will begin shortly. Please prepare for the procession. Schools will be called in alphabetical order."

Sayaka handed the Horizon banner to Kaito and clapped once.

"Straight backs. Calm expressions," she instructed. "We walk in with pride. They don’t know who we are yet. But they will."

Teams began marching into the arena, one by one. A grand center court had been transformed into a circular stage, framed by massive light displays. Hoops were gone, replaced by a glowing ring of LED panels showing school names as they were announced.

When "Horizon High School" rang out through the speakers, a brief hush fell.

Then, polite applause. Nothing loud. Nothing fearful.

Not yet.

Kaito led them out with the banner held high. The rest followed, step by step. Their black and red uniforms shimmered beneath the lights like embers in a storm. Their pace was steady. Their silence—louder than any chant.

Dirga felt it in his chest again—that pulse. That fire.

We’re not the background team anymore.

Behind him, Taiga gave a tiny fist pump. Aizawa hummed a tune under his breath. Rikuya, stone-faced as always, cracked his neck with a sharp pop.

They lined up in the third row.

Across the court, Dirga spotted them—two enormous figures in Hyōgo’s section. The Iron Giants. The infamous twin towers. Their sheer size and stillness radiated intimidation like heat.

Dirga narrowed his eyes.

So that’s what we’re up against.

Then, he noticed another section—Heian Gakuen. The reigning kings. Five-time regional champions. Sayaka had already warned them: if they want the crown, they’ll have to knock the king down first.

And just beyond that—

His heart skipped.

Toyonaka High.

There stood Yuto, calm as ever, and Masaki, hands in his pockets, eyes alert. Their presence felt like a shadow crawling across his past. It hadn’t been long since training camp—but now they were rivals again.

The national anthem played.

Federation officials gave their speeches. Dirga barely heard any of it. The adrenaline blurred time, made everything slow and sharp all at once. He just focused on breathing. Standing tall. Keeping his hands from shaking.

Finally, the chair of the Kansai High School Federation raised a ceremonial basketball toward the crowd.

The stadium exploded with cheers.

"Let the 2009 Kansai High School Regional Tournament—BEGIN!"

Thunderous applause followed. Cheers echoed through the steel rafters.

The teams began filing out, row by row. Horizon walked off with calm, controlled steps—but inside, every one of them was on fire.

Back in the hallway, Sayaka turned to the team, clipboard firm in hand.

"Next stop: warm-up area. Game 3. Court Two. We’ve got two hours. Hydrate. Stretch. Review. This is it."

Dirga exhaled slowly, fists curling at his sides.

The opening ceremony was over.

Now came the part that really mattered.