This is a sponsored chapter, thank you Lucifer!
And yes, I know it looks like there's a missing chapter, but it was actually just a typo that I only noticed in later chapters, so I ended up not "fixing" the mistake. But don't worry, no chapter was lost.
///
As expected, amid the cheers of Teikō's fans, they easily won their first match of the preliminary rounds.
There was no "group of death" in the national tournament — after all, everyone had the same amount of rest. But Teikō still managed to turn the competition into hell mode just by existing.
When the group stage matchups were announced, the other teams immediately lost hope.
If Teikō wasn't in the picture, they might've had a shot at advancing, maybe even a chance at making a name for themselves with some effort.
But now?
They could only wait for the inevitable.
In the second match, Tendou once again sent in the first and second years to gain experience.
Maybe because the previous match had traumatized their opponents too much, they barely put up a fight in the second half. Teikō won easily — again.
But that kind of win wasn't helpful for training the younger players.
So this time, from the first quarter onward, Tendou had the underclassmen start.
The results weren't bad — Teikō was still Teikō.
The two years they dominated nationally had already attracted a generation of talented players. Even when the current third-years graduated, Teikō would remain a powerhouse.
By halftime, the score was 43:48 — much more reasonable.
But in the fourth quarter, Tendou made a sweeping gesture and sent in all the starters.
And the game flipped instantly.
In just a few minutes, the point difference ballooned past 20.
Tendou used this strategy for the remaining group matches, the round-robin, and even the main bracket of the national tournament — giving the younger players plenty of time on court.
Because Teikō had the luxury to do so.
Even if the second string fell behind by 10 or 20 points, they only needed one quarter to turn it around.
Sometimes, to be safe, Tendou would send Kise or one of the starters to lead the second unit.
And just like that, they made it to the finals once again.
This time, their opponent included Kuroko's old friend — a lively and passionate player.
Apparently, his name was Ogiwara Shigehiro.
Before the match, Kuroko had called him. Then, he came to Tendou privately.
"Tendou-kun."
"What's up, Kuroko?"
"I'd like to request… that we go full strength in tomorrow's match."
"Huh?"
Tendou looked up at him in mock surprise.
"Any reason why?"
Kuroko explained that he and Ogiwara were close friends — Ogiwara was the one who got him into basketball in the first place.
Hearing that, Tendou responded:
"You do realize what will happen if we go all out, right?"
"Even if he loses by 200 points, gets utterly humiliated in front of the entire nation, and ends up quitting basketball like the others we've crushed — that's fine with you?"
200 points…
Kuroko hadn't considered that. Sure, teams could break 200 points if they really tried.
Up until now, Teikō's biggest margin of victory had been around 100 — and even then, they'd subbed in their bench early.
After some hesitation, Kuroko bit his lip and said, "Ogiwara-kun's not someone who would give up easily!"
He truly believed in Ogiwara's passion for basketball.
"If you insist, I'll grant your wish."
—
The next day.
At the finals, Teikō's players calmly began prepping.
Especially the underclassmen — they were eager, thinking they'd get another chance to shine on the big stage.
Tendou clapped his hands and stood in front of everyone.
"Today, we'll be going with the full starting lineup."
"Eh? Why?"
"Why not let the first- and second-years keep playing?"
"We don't want to disappoint you, Tendou-senpai!"
The underclassmen revered Tendou like a god. They assumed it was their own performance that had let him down.
"That's not the reason. This is Kuroko's request."
Tendou explained about Ogiwara, and Kuroko, standing with a serious face, shared his own thoughts with the team.
"I'm fine with it," Kise shrugged. "But Kuroko, are you sure about this?"
He didn't even know what "going all out" would look like for them.
"I'm sure." Kuroko would also be playing today.
"Then it's settled," Tendou said. "It's our final middle school game, after all. Let's leave something unforgettable behind."
Half an hour later, both teams took the court.
Just like in the memories — Ogiwara was full of energy and passion.
When he heard that Teikō was sending their full starting lineup, he felt… proud.
"Teikō's using their full starters today?"
"Ugh… don't say that…"
"What are you talking about? This proves we're worthy of their full effort! We should be proud!"
"You're right, Ogiwara. Teikō hasn't let anyone score double digits this tournament — today, we'll be the ones to break that record!"
"Yeah!"
They pumped each other up, full of motivation.
Just as Ogiwara had said — being recognized by the Generation of Miracles filled them with pride and fighting spirit.
Tip-off. Murasakibara easily won the jump and tapped the ball to Akashi, who immediately fired a full-court pass forward.
The opposing team hadn't even turned around yet — and Tendou had already reached the three-point line and pulled up for a shot.
Swish.
"Damn, they really are strong..."
"Which means we just have to push even harder. Let's hit them back!"
Their spirits were high — but once they were on offense, they couldn't even complete a basic play.
Barely 3 seconds into their first possession, Tendou snagged the ball for a steal.
He raised his hand and hurled it like a missile across the court.
Aomine was already sprinting. He caught the pass and took a few steps — then slammed it in with a thunderous dunk.
About 10 seconds into the game — Teikō was up 5–0.
Ogiwara inbounded again, calling out plays, rallying his team.
Less than 5 seconds later — another pass was intercepted.
This time, it was Akashi who read the play.
The Akashi from "that day" had fully awakened. His tyrannical side had no patience for opponents who dared to believe they could compete with Teikō.
Any team that faced Teikō should bow in awe and pray for mercy — not talk about "pushing back."
Swish.
Midorima nailed a transition three. He'd gotten his lucky item from Kanagawa this morning and was feeling unstoppable.
8–0.
The game hadn't even been going for a full minute, and the opposing team was already getting steamrolled.
Kuroko, watching it all unfold, suddenly had a very bad feeling…