Chapter 40: The Subtle Use of 'Cleave”

From the very beginning, Tanaka Gorō knew he wasn't a genius. Geniuses were always standing under the spotlight—just like Tendou Kageyoshi in front of him, the center of everyone's attention. The media would follow their every step, producing endless coverage. And those without talent could only be left in the dark. In that moment, flashes from Tanaka's basketball life swept through his mind like a slideshow. Summer, 2004. That was when he first came into contact with the sport, and shortly after, made his debut. He still remembered how excited he was to step onto the court for the first time. The result? Not so great. His team lost in that very game. But it didn't matter—he'd only played during garbage time anyway. He believed that if he worked hard enough, he'd eventually help the team win. But all the way through elementary school, he never managed to take the team any further. Then came Musashi Junior High. On his very first afternoon with the basketball team, the coach crushed every last bit of his naïve hope. "You are not geniuses. If you were, you wouldn't be nobodies." "If any of you had real talent, I would've remembered your names the moment we met." He remembered how the once enthusiastic group of new recruits instantly fell silent at those words. The coach's bluntness struck a chord deep within him—forcing him to finally understand his place. As the coach continued: "But it's exactly because we're not a team of geniuses... that we have nothing to fear. That we can throw everything into chasing victory!" "Remember this—we can be strays, but we are not house pets!" House pets didn't have to worry about survival. But strays did. From that day on, Tanaka began staying late to train an extra hour every night, and diligently studied every upcoming opponent. He watched Teikō's footage from earlier games again and again—every single day. Tendou's favored arm, his driving direction, his shooting hot zones... He had all of it memorized. Not for fame. Just so that in this crucial game, he could do something for his team. But even with all that— Even after using every trick they had—they'd only barely fought Teikō to an 8–8 tie. That told him what he'd done still wasn't enough. And so now— He would tear into a military hound like Tendou with everything he had. I have to stop him. I can stop him. I will stop him. With that near-maniacal will to win, he reached for Tendou's jersey without hesitation, trying to disrupt the play with one of the dirtiest tactics in the book. Strays didn't deserve grace. They didn't need glamorous fur or a charming presence. All they had to think about... was survival. But fate had already made its decision. Dress it up however you want—in the end, all they were doing... was acting like sewer rats. The moment his hand was about to grab Tendou's jersey— What met Tanaka Gorō was a sharper, faster, harder counter. SMACK! His hand rebounded like someone in a video game who'd tried to slash a steel door— and the entire character got thrown back from the collision. "Nani?!" He stared in disbelief. A sharp pain surged through his arm, and a bright red palm mark appeared before his eyes. He looked up—and saw Tendou's face, radiating overwhelming confidence— Just before it disappeared. Tendou had used Cleave—the same technique he'd honed countless times— to swat aside the foul-seeking arm. Then, like a hot knife through butter, he sliced into Musashi's core defense. Two defenders tried to close in— But Tendou simply pulled up for the jumper. A real killer never passed up a clean shot to take the enemy's head. His textbook-perfect shooting form and top-tier touch sent the ball clean through the net. SWISH. The Teikō fans erupted. Nijimura Shūzō's pupils dilated slightly. He had his own way of handling teams like Musashi: He relied on basketball IQ and court vision to avoid physical contact. As long as his teammates moved smartly, he could always deliver the ball early and clean. Tendou was different. He used physics. 10–8. Teikō retook the lead. The Musashi coach roared furiously from the sideline, yelling for his players to get even more physical. He repeated the "stray dog" philosophy again and again. Tanaka Gorō clenched his teeth. A creeping dread welled up inside him. He hadn't even seen how Tendou took the shot just now. ... Play resumed. Amid the chants of Teikō fans, Musashi forced the ball back into the paint. Their center caught it and raised it for the shot— but Nijimura suddenly crashed in from the side, slapping the ball into the air. Without Murasakibara, Teikō's interior defense had taken a hit. But that only meant... they'd dropped back to last year's level. And what was Teikō's level last year? National semifinals. How weak could they possibly be? After Nijimura's block, Teikō's backup center secured the rebound and launched a long pass forward. He didn't even look— But he knew. He knew his first-year teammate would never miss a chance for a fast break. And sure enough— As soon as the ball was in the air, #14 Tendou Kageyoshi was already streaking past half court like a comet, chasing it down. Three years was enough time to instill a sense of loyalty. The third-years no longer cared about being the center of attention. They didn't mind if Tendou was the focal point. In fact— They were glad to see him thrive. They were willing to be the shield he held high as he charged. Tendou caught the pass, and immediately stormed into Musashi's paint. A fast break—the most efficient scoring method in basketball. Like a one-on-one in soccer. Tanaka Gorō sprinted after him, giving it everything he had— But even when Tendou was dribbling, he could only eat dust behind him. BOOM! Tendou summoned his inner Curry and threw down a dunk— Not one built on raw violence, but precision and flair. The crowd exploded again! After all—this was a junior high game. A dunk was already insane. What more could you ask for? --- Vote with some power stones in this story. By using them on this book, you guarantee bonus chapters weekly.