Kuroko's Basketball template: the king of slacking off, Shohoku's strongest sixth man.

"What?!"

Kishimoto shuddered violently.

His eyes immediately widened to their limit.

He turned his head sharply, following Nan Lie's gaze, and looked eagerly at the bustling audience seats.

In an inconspicuous corner on the upper floor of the stadium.

Coach Kitano, with his full head of silver hair and kind face, sat there quietly.

He was wearing a faded coat and holding a worn-out tactical notebook in his hand.

He was surrounded by a dozen or so boys, around seven or eight years old.

They were wearing basketball jerseys a size too big and were excitedly discussing something while leaning on the railing.

"Wow! Look! That number 4 from Shohoku is like a gorilla! His strength is incredible!"

A chubby boy waved his fleshy fist and shouted.

"When I grow up, I want to be a center like that, and I'll knock everyone flying!"

"No way, playing center is too cumbersome!"

The skinny boy next to him, wearing a Jordan jersey, retorted.

"I want to be number 11!"

"His dribbling is so cool, he could score with his eyes closed, he's absolutely amazing!"

"Me too! I want to be number 11 too!" The other children immediately joined in the commotion.

The chubby boy got anxious and scratched his head.

Pointing at Sakuragi, who was swaggering around on the field, he said:

"So, if you want to grab rebounds, do you have to be like that number 10?"

"He jumped so high!"

"Huh?" The skinny boy curled his lip in disdain.

"But he looked so silly smiling just now, and his red hair makes him look like a delinquent. My mom will scold him."

"Ha ha ha ha……"

Coach Kitano burst out laughing upon hearing the children's innocent remarks.

He reached out his calloused hand and affectionately ruffled the skinny boy's hair.

"Hey, hey, hey, you heartless brats!"

Coach Kitano pretended to be angry.

"Have you forgotten who taught you to play ball?"

"I used to be Toyotama's coach. You guys go and praise the other side. I'm so embarrassed."

The children looked at each other and stuck out their tongues.

The skinny boy's eyes darted around, and he took the lead in raising his hand:

"Okay, okay, Coach Kitano, don't be angry!"

"Then let's politely give Toyota a shout-out!"

"Great! Let's cheer on politeness!" the children responded enthusiastically, clapping their hands.

Coach Kitano was both amused and exasperated by this group of clowns, and shook his head helplessly.

"You bunch of brats... what do you mean by 'polite encouragement'... I just can't do anything with you guys."

"Go Toyotama! Go Toyotama! Don't lose!"

A dozen or so young, clear cheers sounded insignificant in the noisy stadium.

They were quickly drowned out by the cheers of the Shohoku fans.

But Coach Kitano stopped smiling.

He rested his hands on his knees, his gaze piercing through the crowd, gently watching Nan Lie and Kishimoto Sanori on the field.

"Time is running out, and the score is so bad it's despairing."

Coach Kitano sighed silently to himself, but a glint of light shone in his eyes.

"But, Minami, Kishimoto, it's too early to give up now."

"Winning and losing are important, but the end goal in basketball is never just the numbers on the scoreboard."

"Feel the basketball bouncing on your fingertips, listen to the sound of your sneakers rubbing against the floor."

"You guys need to learn to enjoy basketball."

……

On the field, the referee tossed the ball to a Toyotama player, and the game restarted.

Kishimoto and Minami retreated to the backcourt side by side to defend.

Kishimoto withdrew his gaze, his heart pounding.

The heavy shackles that had been pressing on his chest seemed to have cracked.

Nan Lie watched Miyagi advance with the ball and whispered to Kishimoto:

"Kishimoto..."

"Actually, the moment I woke up in the infirmary, I realized that I had been wrong all along."

Kishimoto paused for a moment, then turned to look at Nan Lie.

Nan Lie's eyes shone with an unprecedented brightness.

"We've been stuck in a rut ever since Coach Kitano left."

"They desperately wanted to prove that run-and-gun offense was the right way, even at the cost of hurting others in their pursuit of victory..."

Nan Lie lowered his head, glanced at his hands, and clenched them into fists.

"Without realizing it, I actually forgot the most important premise."

"That's the question Coach Kitano used to ask us all the time..."

Nan Lie turned his head, looked directly into Kishimoto's eyes, and said, word by word:

Do you like basketball?

Kishimoto Minori's pupils contracted sharply, and long-buried memories burst forth.

It was the summer of my first year of high school, and the sunlight was shining on the wooden floor.

Coach Kitano, holding an old basketball, looked at the exhausted players with a smile.

"Minami, Kishimoto, running and shooting must be tiring, right?"

"But do you guys like basketball?"

"If you like it, then enjoy the fun of basketball to the fullest!"

Memories overlap with reality.

Nan Lie's voice continued to ring in my ears, tinged with a sigh of relief:

"A game should be about enjoying the fun of basketball..."

"For the sake of that damn face, I completely forgot about this..."

Kishimoto Minori stood there, frozen in place.

He felt a burning sensation in his eyes.

What had been suppressed for two years was utterly shattered at this moment.

Yeah, what exactly are they doing?

Playing basketball by fouling and using dirty tricks, is that still the basketball we love?

This is clearly a torture device that has been put on oneself!

Kishimoto took a deep breath of the slightly salty air.

The intense burning sensation from physical exhaustion now felt strangely clear.

He vigorously wiped the sweat and tears from his face.

His previously distorted and irritable face suddenly blossomed into a wild smile, devoid of any impurities.

"Hey! Iwata! Itakura! Yasaka!"

Kishimoto suddenly turned around and roared at his dejected teammates behind him.

This roar was devoid of both arrogance and despair.

It's all about pure, unadulterated passion.

Fengyu's team members looked up in surprise.

Kishimoto clenched his fist and pounded it heavily on his sweat-soaked chest, his eyes blazing:

"Forget the score! Forget the tactics!"

"Throw all that messy stress into the trash!"

He turned his head and smiled at Nan Lie.

Two teenagers who had lost their way in the darkness finally rediscovered their original aspirations in the last two minutes.

"Guys, cheer up!"

Let's enjoy basketball together!

Kishimoto laughed and opened his arms wide.

He shouted loudly, facing the gaze of more than 10,000 spectators.

"Defense! Don't let them cross halfway through the game easily!"

Akagi Takenori stood like an iron tower guarding the center of the restricted area, letting out a furious roar.

There are two minutes left in the game.

Toyotama High School, which should have been completely crushed by the huge 30-point score difference, ...

But at this moment, it's as if it has been reborn.

Nan Lie was panting heavily, sweat streaming down the gauze on his forehead.

But the venomous scheming in his eyes was gone.

All that remained was the purest desire for basketball.

He ran quickly, using Kishimoto Minori's extremely solid cover to shake off Rukawa Kaede's close defense at a 45-degree angle on the right.

"Give me the ball!" Nan Lie shouted.

Daijiro Itakura delivered a bounce pass that spanned half the field and landed securely in the hands of Minami Ryo.

Despite the discomfort caused by the blind spot in his left eye and excessive physical exertion, Rukawa Kaede lunged forward, raising one arm high in an attempt to block the shot.

If it were ten minutes ago, Nan Lie might have instinctively raised his elbow and used the dirtiest method to force his opponent back.

But now, he just smiled in relief.

His knees sank down rhythmically.

Facing the fierce pressure from Rukawa Kaede, he calmly rose from the ground.

"Go enjoy basketball..."

Coach Kitano's words echoed in my ears.

With a gentle flick of the wrist, the basketball traced an extremely high arc in mid-air.

"Whoosh!"

The hollow part enters the net with a crisp, clear sound.