The Purple key
Part 1 (the key)
It was a usual Sunday at the school in Hiroshima. The sun shone warmly over the playground as boys and girls practiced hard for the upcoming district-level ball badminton tournament. That morning, the teams held a special practice match: Senior Girls versus Junior Boys.
A boy sat quietly on the bench; his eyes fixed on the warm afternoon sun. The light glinted softly on the court, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow.
In his mind, a memory surfaced — his grandfather’s voice, gentle and wise.
“Grandfather… what is this?” he asked, unsure.
“My dear,” the voice replied, calm and warm, “this is the key… the key to unlocking the treasure of life.”
The boy pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the words echo in his heart. “I… I know,” he whispered, a quiet determination settling within him.
And he start to see the match.
The game quickly turned intense. The shuttlecock flew back and forth in fast, sharp arcs. Sneakers screeched against the court. Teammates shouted positions and warnings. What had begun as a friendly match slowly became a battle of pride. Near the end, with the score tight, Saturo Sae leapt from the back right corner. His timing was perfect. His wrist snapped down with clean force.
Smash.
The shuttle landed just inside the line.
Point.
The junior boys won. Cheers filled the playground. Even the seniors laughed as they admitted defeat. But when Saturo landed, something unexpected happened. For a brief second, he froze. Across the court stood Chinato Ema, watching. Their eyes met. His heartbeat skipped. He didn’t understand why.
When lunch break came, most students left the court, laughing and talking about the match.
Only two boys stayed behind.
Saturo and his best friend, Kido Shinzo, passed a football between them casually.
Saturo caught the ball, then hesitated before kicking it back.
“When I smashed earlier… I saw her,” he said quietly. “For a second, I froze. I don’t know why it felt so… weird.”
Kido received the ball smoothly. His calm eyes followed its movement, but something deeper flickered within them.
“Don’t worry, Saturo,” he said softly. “Soon, Chinato Ema will know. And we’ll make sure your story makes sense. I’m here. As long as I am, “ I will rewrite every touch” .
They stood in silence for a moment, the afternoon breeze brushing past them.
Suddenly—
Screech!
A bicycle skidded to a dramatic stop in front of them.
Musuko Saru, the energetic zone-level captain, grinned wildly.
“Firozoenk! You’re coming with me!” he shouted, before speeding off again, leaving dust behind him.
Saturo blinked. “What does that even mean?”
From nearby, Furasha Kin watched quietly, sharp eyes observing everything without a word.
On the other side of the court, Kurejii Teru, the mischievous junior captain, was laughing loudly while joking with the team, already thinking ahead to district strategy.
That small Sunday ended like any other.
But none of them realized how important it would become.
One week later, the district tournament day arrived.
The bus ride was full of noise and excitement. Students vibed, shouted, and hyped each other up. The senior team played first and won their match 50–48 in a tight finish.
Now it was the juniors’ turn.
Nine players in total. Five main players, four substitutes.
Their opponent: Cocala School.
Tall. Skilled. Confident.
Hiroshima took their positions.
Center — Captain Kurejii Teru.
Back right — Saturo Sae.
Back left — Musuko Saru.
Front left — Nitiom.
Front right — Pranov.
Saturo stood quietly for a moment, thinking.
Nervous.
Kido noticed his shaking hands.
“Bro,” he said firmly, “we can make this.”
He pushed him lightly forward. “You have experience. Talk to them.”
Saturo took a deep breath.
“Guys, I know you’re nervous. But we’re students of Hiroshima. Let’s do this.”
The whistle blew.
The game began.
From the opposite side, Cocala stepped forward.
Their captain, Rensho Akira, towered confidently over most of the juniors. A smirk played on his lips as he tapped his racket three times.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Beside him stood their silent ace, Hayato Kiyoshi, moving with fluid, quiet precision — his “Ghost Step” already making him seem faster than the eye could follow.
Rensho glanced at Saturo. “How are you?” he asked mockingly.
“I’m good,” Saturo replied.
Kiyoshi quietly called Rensho back to focus.
The referee called both captains forward for the toss.
“Tails,” Kurejii said.
“Heads,” Rensho replied.
The coin spun.
Hiroshima won.
Kiyoshi smirked slightly. “It’s just a toss.”
“Everyone to your positions!” the referee called.
Saturo opened with a mid-range serve.
In a blink, Rensho appeared at the net.
Ghost Step.
He smashed the shuttle down sharply.
Point — Cocala.
Hiroshima wasn’t ready.
Saturo felt a flicker of anger, but Kurejii stepped beside him.
“Show them our game,” the captain said calmly.
The match continued.
8–7.
Saturo launched a long, powerful shot to the back line.
Point.
But Rensho’s expression didn’t change. A cold aura seemed to surround him.
After a quick exchange at the net, Kurejii stepped forward and used his special move — Top Touch.
He barely brushed the shuttle over the net.
It dropped perfectly inside.
The crowd gasped.
“This is a piece of cake,” Kurejii grinned.
Rensho narrowed his eyes. “They have some skill.”
Then he tapped his racket again.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The shuttle rose toward him.
“Shadow Smash.”
The impact shifted the energy of the match entirely.
The score climbed evenly until 15–15.
Then Cocala found Hiroshima’s weakness.
The front court.
They repeatedly targeted it with sharp, controlled shots.
The scoreboard shifted harshly:
Hiroshima — 18
Cocala — 29
Kurejii substituted Nitiom for Furai Hoiru, but the pressure remained.
26–35.
The team’s energy began to drop.
Then suddenly—
“Ooo!”
Musuko shouted loudly.
Everyone stared at him.
“He’s mental,” Kurejii muttered.
“You’re mental!” Musuko shot back.
The team laughed.
And just like that, something loosened.
“Let’s do it!”
Kiyoshi smiled faintly. “Waste of time.”
Rensho nodded.
Musuko entered what he proudly called “Wakong Mode.”
Three consecutive points.
“Hat-trick!” he yelled.
30–37.
But Cocala pushed back.
33–43.
Fatigue settled in.
Hope began to fade.
On the bench, Kido Shinzo slowly closed his eyes.
He opened them again.
“I want to substitute,” he said firmly.
Kurejii looked at him.
“Come.”
He replaced Furai Hoiru.
Hoiru hesitated before stepping back.
Kido walked onto the court.
He took a deep breath and looked at the opponents.
The shuttle came toward him.
He stepped back.
Jumped.
Higher than anyone expected.
He smashed.
The impact echoed across the arena.
Everyone was shocked.
A flashback crossed their minds.
“He’s the worst player.”
“Too slow.”
“He’ll never make it.”
But in the present—
Kido was falling back down through the air.
And around his neck, we can see a purple key.
— End of Part 1 —
Purple key
Part 2 (The Change,… kido)
From the audience, a voice suddenly shouted—
“That shot… it cracked like thunder!”
There was a brief pause.
Then someone else repeated it.
“Cracked Thunder!”
Within seconds, the entire crowd picked it up.
“CRACK THUNDER! CRACK THUNDER!”
The name echoed through the arena.
Rensho’s lips curved into a light, amused smile.
“Now this is getting interesting,” he said softly.
But beside him, Kiyoshi’s eyes widened.
He was not smiling.
He was staring at Kido.
As if he understood something the others did not.
Saturo stepped closer to Kido.
“Kido—”
“Not now,” Kido interrupted, his tone serious and calm.
Saturo paused… then nodded. “Okay.”
Something had changed.
The entire Hiroshima team felt it.
Confidence.
Belief.
Kido stepped back to serve.
“Believe me…” he said, his voice low and steady.
He served.
It went to the front player — an easy receive.
But the player hesitated.
Kiyoshi used Ghost Step to appear beside him.
Still… he couldn’t reach it in time.
Point — Hiroshima.
And everyone realized something:
Until now, only Rensho and Kiyoshi had been scoring for Cocala.
Kido looked forward and said quietly,
“From here on… Ghost Step won’t work.”
The next three points—
All Kido.
Scoreboard:
Hiroshima — 38
Cocala — 44
The bench erupted with energy.
Kurejii laughed.
“Hey, he’s stealing the spotlight!” he said jokingly, though his eyes burned with the desire to jump back in.
Musuko grinned.
“Don’t forget we’re here too.”
Saturo walked toward Kido.
“The next ball is important.”
They locked eyes for two seconds.
Kido slowly turned his face forward.
“I know… Guys, let’s show them.”
His tone was calm. Cold.
Kiyoshi served deep from the back.
This time, Saturo moved first.
He leapt—
A powerful smash.
Point.
He looked at Kido.
Kido looked back.
Without speaking, they both said the same thing in their hearts:
Let’s do this, bro.
After a few quick front-and-back exchanges—
Saturo scored again.
But Rensho stepped forward.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
“Shadow Smash.”
Saturo rushed to block.
But Rensho faked one direction—
Then smashed the other way.
The ball landed clean.
Hiroshima — 41
Cocala — 45
For the first time—
Rensho’s smile faded.
Then momentum shifted.
Musuko snapped.
“Wakong Mode.”
He grinned wildly.
“I’m here,” he whispered to himself.
Three sharp angled points.
“Hat-trick!” he shouted.
Even Kurejii burst out laughing.
“Monster Mode, round two!”
Then Kurejii paused for a second.
I’m the captain of this team.
Kiyoshi aimed a mid shot.
Before impact—
Kido stepped back.
Kurejii rushed forward.
They switched positions mid-play.
Kurejii crossed his racket with a sly smile.
“Top Touch.”
The shuttle barely rolled over the net.
Kiyoshi froze.
They had faked him.
He muttered under his breath,
“Their chemistry… it’s state level.”
Kurejii and Kido clashed hands.
Kiyoshi felt a small irritation.
I underestimated them… and you, Kido. You’re different.
He smiled slightly.
“This is really fun.”
Rensho looked at him, surprised.
First time I’ve seen you smile like that.
He smiled back.
“Yeah.”
Musuko served again.
Kiyoshi returned with another Shadow Smash.
“You can’t!” a voice called from behind.
It was Saturo.
He jumped lightly—
Met the shuttle mid-air—
Counter-smashed.
The sound echoed across the court.
He landed.
Breathing hard.
Sweat ran down his face.
“How are you?” he asked quietly.
Hiroshima — 48
Cocala — 49
Match point — Cocala.
Silence swallowed the arena.
Rensho served deep.
Long rally.
Net touch.
Dive save.
Backline return.
Then—
Kurejii stepped forward.
Softest touch.
The shuttle barely crossed.
Hiroshima — 49
Cocala — 49
Deuce.
They looked exhausted.
Like warriors standing on their final breath in battle.
Next rally—
Musuko struck sharply.
Hiroshima — 50
Cocala — 49
Match point — Hiroshima.
Saturo held the shuttle.
It didn’t feel heavy anymore.
Kido stood near the net.
Quietly said—
“Make your story make sense.”
Saturo smiled.
Serve.
Fast exchange.
Suddenly—
Rensho appeared from nowhere.
Ghost Step.
“I just need… a small gap.”
He attacked the front again.
But Kido was already there.
He leapt.
Not power.
Control.
He redirected the shuttle to the empty back corner.
The crowd thought it was over.
But—
Rensho reached it.
Returned it.
The shuttle flew toward Saturo.
He remembered:
Make your story make sense.
He stepped back.
Pulled his racket behind him.
And smashed.
Clean.
Violent.
Precise.
Back right corner.
On the edge of the line.
“Sniper.”
Silence.
All eyes on the referee.
Seconds felt endless.
Heartbeat thundered.
Whistle.
Game over.
Hiroshima wins.
The arena exploded.
Cheers. Shouts. Applause.
Kido and Saturo fist-bumped.
The entire team joined in.
Musuko tackled Saturo.
Kurejii screamed loud enough for the seniors to hear.
Nitiom laughed in relief.
Saturo looked at Kido.
Not behind him.
Beside him.
In the stands—
Chinato Ema had seen everything.
As the crowd dispersed, Rensho approached Kurejii.
“Nice game,” he said, shaking hands.
Then he walked to Saturo.
“I’m fine. That was our last match here. We’re transferring schools.”
Saturo blinked. “Oh…”
Someone called Rensho.
He waved.
“Bye.”
As he passed Musuko—
“Hey, monkey. You’re a really good player.”
Musuko froze.
“Monkey?!”
A second later, he smiled.
“It’s okay… it was a nice game.”
Kido stood alone for a moment.
“Hi.”
Kido flinched slightly.
Kiyoshi stood beside him.
“Hi…”
Kiyoshi glanced at the purple key around his neck.
“That key… it’s yours?”
“Yes.”
Rensho called from afar.
“Time to go!”
Kiyoshi nodded.
“Be careful… bye.”
Rain began to fall.
Soft at first.
Kido looked up at the sky.
“This feels different,” he said quietly.
A droplet slid down his face.
“At last… I revealed my true self.”
Announcement echoed through the speakers:
“In one hour, the next match will begin.”
Under a tree, the team sat together, laughing and teasing each other.
Suddenly Kurejii stood.
“Guys… this isn’t over.”
Kido closed his eyes for a moment.
Because next—
They would face Kurogane High.
–the end of part 2—
Purple key
Part 3 (something ,wrong)
Rain fell lightly over the entrance of Kurogane High School, Chennai.
A TV channel van stood near the gate as students rushed across the wet campus carrying umbrellas.
A young reporter adjusted her microphone and smiled toward the camera.
“Hi, I’m Gen Uara from SPORT Guild,” she said brightly. “Today we are covering the High School Ball Badminton District Tournament here at Kurogane High School. Despite the rain, the atmosphere is intense. Along with ball badminton, we also have table tennis, throwball, and shuttle badminton events happening today.”
Behind the camera stood her cameraman, Sienjiro Moso, giving her a reassuring nod.
On the other side of the campus, two boys walked quietly under their umbrellas.
Rain tapped softly against the fabric.
After a long silence, Kiyoshi finally spoke.
“What do you think about Kido Shinzo?”
Rensho smirked.
“Oh? That ‘Cracked Thunder’ guy?”
His expression slowly turned serious.
“He’s not ordinary. I felt it during the match. He changed the flow.”
Kiyoshi’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Yes… but that’s not the real reason.”
He paused.
“Do you remember the Five Great Stand Players? The GSP… also called the Grand Sage Persons?”
Rensho frowned.
“That was just a rumor.”
“I saw the purple key around his neck,” Kiyoshi said quietly. “When he jumped.”
Rensho thought for a moment.
“…Yes. I remember.”
His voice darkened.
“Then he might be in danger.”
Kiyoshi didn’t respond immediately.
His gaze shifted.
A small cat was trapped near a drainage opening beside the walkway.
Without hesitation, Kiyoshi leaned down, placed his umbrella against his shoulder, and carefully lifted a brick slab. The frightened cat quickly ran free.
Kiyoshi stood up again.
“We warned him enough.”
Rensho sighed.
“This isn’t our problem.”
The rain slowly stopped as they reached the bus stand.
Under a nearby tree, the Hiroshima team sat together, tired but laughing.
The clouds had begun to clear.
Gen’s voice echoed again from the tournament coverage.
“The semi-finals are over!
| Ball Badminton district level tournament |
| Hiroshima school |
| Cocala school |
| Chenni public school |
| Kurogane school |
| Kurogane school |
| Hiroshima school |
Hiroshima defeated Cocala 51–49, and Kurogane defeated Chennai Public School 50–39. After lunch, the finals will begin!”
Sienjiro leaned toward Gen.
“Take over.”
She hesitated nervously.
“This is harder than it looks…”
He smiled.
“First time. You’ll get used to it.”
Back at Hiroshima’s side, students crowded around Kido.
“How did you do ‘Cracked Thunder’?” someone asked.
Kido scratched his head awkwardly.
“It just… happened. I didn’t plan it.”
Kurejii raised an eyebrow.
“Then how did you break Ghost Step?”
Kido’s expression became serious.
“When I was on the bench, I observed Kiyoshi carefully.”
Everyone fell silent.
“His technique depends on two things: stepping and prediction. His steps are silent and precise. And he moves before the shot — predicting based on eye focus.”
The team listened carefully.
“But his biggest requirement is space. He needs a small gap to move freely. So I stopped aiming at him. I targeted the other players. When he tried to move, his own teammates blocked his path.”
“That broke his rhythm.”
Everyone stared at him in shock.
Musuko burst into laughter and lightly punched Kido’s head.
“You were hiding your skills!”
Kurejii nodded calmly.
“Impressive.”
He then turned toward Saturo.
Saturo blinked.
“What?”
“You countered Rensho’s Shadow Smash.”
Saturo rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was just in flow… but I remembered something. Physics.”
Nitiom frowned.
“What?”
“The angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection,” Saturo explained. “I imagined myself as a mirror. The shuttle was like a ray of light. Instead of reacting instantly, I calculated the direction and reflected it back.”
Nitiom blinked again.
“That makes no sense.”
Saturo smiled.
“It made sense to me.”
Kido held out his fist.
Saturo bumped it.
They both laughed.
But in the corner, Furui Hoiru sat silently, clearly troubled.
Kurejii and Kido both noticed him.
Neither realized the other had noticed too.
The district venue canteen was loud and crowded.
Trays clattered. Chairs scraped. Students from different schools filled the space with nervous energy.
The Hiroshima team sat near a window.
Musuko had stacked three plates of food in front of him.
“Energy is power,” he declared proudly.
“You’re just hungry,” Kurejii replied.
Saturo sat quietly beside Kido.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your ability?” Saturo asked softly.
Kido’s smile faded slightly.
“I’ve changed six schools,” he said quietly. “It’s complicated.”
Then he forced a lighter tone.
“After this tournament… want to watch a movie?”
Saturo smiled.
“Of course.”
Musuko grinned.
“Win first. My Wakong Mode is always ready.”
“Save it for the court,” Kurejii smirked.
Suddenly—
A tray slammed down on their table.
The canteen fell silent.
Five players stood there.
Black and deep red jerseys.
On their chest: KUROGANE.
At the center stood their captain.
Broad shoulders. Calm eyes. A faint scar above his eyebrow.
“Sorry for the interruption,” he said calmly. “We’re from Kurogane. I’m Rai Zen.”
“Your jerseys already told us,” Saturo replied calmly. “I’m Saturo.”
Beside Rai stood a lean boy lazily spinning a fork.
“Shirogane Akito. Ace player.”
“That’s the team that barely survived Cocala, right?”
Musuko stood instantly.
“Barely? We won.”
Another player stepped forward.
Tetsuya Kurogami.
“Against a team that’s transferring.”
Saturo’s grip tightened.
Kurejii gently placed a hand on Musuko’s shoulder.
“Sit.”
Rai scanned the table.
His eyes stopped at Kido.
Their gazes locked.
Ren Kagetsu pulled a chair and sat beside Kido.
“So you’re ‘Cracked Thunder’?”
“People talk,” Kido replied calmly.
Akito smirked.
“Thunder? Cute nickname.”
His teammates stopped immediately.
“You play with emotion,” Rai said calmly. “You celebrate loudly. Laugh loudly. Shout loudly.”
His eyes locked with Kurejii.
Kurejii said do you want fight ?
Rai said , no , I just telling ,“But when pressure crushes you… what happens then?”
Saturo stepped forward.
“We adapt.”
Rai looked back at Kido for a long moment.
But kido didn’t look at him , he looked down .
Daichi cracked his knuckles.
“You know what we call you guys?”
Musuko stood again.
“What?”
“Noise.”
Musuko lunged.
Kido grabbed his arm instantly.
“Not here.”
The atmosphere became heavy.
Nearby students began watching.
Rai raised one hand.
His teammates stopped immediately.
Then he turned.
“Good. We’ll see.”
The Kurogane team walked away.
The canteen noise slowly returned.
But Hiroshima’s table remained silent.
Musuko punched the table.
“I hate them.”
Saturo exhaled.
“They weren’t trying to intimidate us.”
Kido spoke quietly.
“They were measuring us.”
Everyone looked at him.
His eyes were calm now.
“This is Hiroshima.”
His lips curved into a small smile.
“Let’s bring back the old Hiroshima.”
For the first time…
His smile looked dangerous.
Meanwhile, inside the Sports Guild staff room, two coaches were talking.
One was Jay Con, the coach of Chennai Public School.
The other was a calm man with framed glasses — John Miron, Hiroshima’s coach.
Jay smiled.
“After a long time… I thought we would play against each other again.”
John nodded.
“I thought the same. But we can’t.”
Jay leaned closer.
“Actually… I want to tell you something about Kurogane. They might be using some kind of cheap trick.”
John simply responded,
“Hmm…”
Just then Jay’s phone rang.
“I have to go,” he said before leaving quickly.
After he left, John whispered to himself.
“This is the last game.”
He looked up slowly.
“I want this team to win.”
Outside, Gen’s voice echoed through the speakers.
“The match we have all been waiting for is about to begin! The district final between Hiroshima High School and Kurogane High School!”
The crowd cheered.
The Kurogane team prepared on their side.
Their coach, Daigo Ishimori, called Rai Zen.
He leaned close and whispered something.
Rai nodded.
As the team walked toward the court, Daigo glanced at the referee and gave a strange, unsettling smile.
On Hiroshima’s side, the players were still slightly nervous because of the canteen incident.
Suddenly a voice came from behind.
“Boys!”
They turned.
Coach John Miron stood there smiling.
He placed his hands on Saturo and Kurejii’s shoulders.
“I heard you played the semifinal without me. Nice job.”
“And sorry for leaving earlier.”
The team relaxed.
“I also heard about the canteen incident,” John continued. “Don’t think too much about it.”
Kurejii smiled.
“Then let’s show them.”
The team walked toward the court.
John quietly stopped Kido for a moment.
“Kido… at last you came out and showed yourself.”
Kido froze.
John placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Go play first, ‘Cracked Thunder.’”
Kido smiled.
“Yes, coach.”
Both teams stepped onto the court.
Hiroshima Formation
Center (Captain): Kurejii Teru
Back Right: Saturo Sae
Back Left: Musuko Saru
Front Left: Nitiom
Front Right: Kido Shinzo
Kurogane Formation
Center (Captain): Rai Zen
Back Right: Shirogane Akito
Back Left: Tetsuya Kurogami
Front Left: Daichi Aramuro
Front Right: Ren Kagetsu
The referee called the captains.
“Toss.”
“Heads,” said Kurejii.
“Tails,” said Rai.
The coin spun.
“Kurogane wins the toss!”
They all going to the place
Daichi stepped forward with the ball.
The first serve of the finals began.
He delivered a powerful serve.
Kurejii returned it to the middle.
Rai moved quickly and redirected the ball toward the back right corner with perfect control.
Saturo rushed
He shot the ball at the corner ,
It was “sniper”.
But the referee blew the whistle.
“Point for Kurogane!”
The Hiroshima players looked confused.
The match had just begun.
And something already felt wrong.
–the end of part 3–
Purple key
Part 4 (monster and monkey)
“Indemnity!” Kurejii Teru shouted, stepping forward. “That was in!”
The referee didn’t hesitate.
“No. It was out.”
A wave of confusion spread across the Hiroshima side.
Across the court, Rai Zen stood silently, his expression unreadable.
Behind him, Shirogane Akito sighed lazily.
“This is boring… I’m going to the bench.”
He turned and walked off.
At the sideline, Coach Daigo Ishimori clenched his teeth.
“Why did you leave?”
Akito shrugged.
“I don’t want to play your game.”
Daigo’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing more.
I can’t pressure him…
On the opposite side, Coach John Miron watched quietly. His eyes shifted toward Daigo.
A faint smile appeared.
“So this is what Jay was trying to tell me…” he murmured.
“But cheap tricks like this won’t work”
Kurejii served to the middle.
Rai received it smoothly and redirected the ball to the back left.
Musuko was already there.
He returned it with a sharp angle shot.
Daichi reacted instantly at the front court—
A fast counter.
Too fast.
Point — Kurogane.
The rally continued back and forth for a few exchanges.
The scoreboard changed quickly:
Hiroshima — 2
Kurogane — 6
Then—
Saturo saw his chance.
He moved.
Perfect position.
“Sniper.”
The shot landed cleanly on the corner.
But—
Whistle.
“Point for Kurogane.”
Silence.
Saturo stepped forward.
“That was in.”
Kurejii joined him.
“That’s our point.”
Even players from other courts began watching, murmuring.
But the referee remained firm.
“Decision stands.”
Rai said nothing.
Suddenly—
“Substitution!”
Coach John’s voice cut through the tension.
Everyone turned.
“Kido, come out.”
Shock spread across the team.
Saturo stepped forward instantly—
But Kurejii stopped him.
“There’s a reason,” he said quietly.
Kido said nothing. He simply nodded and walked to the bench.
Furui Hoiru replaced him.
The atmosphere felt heavier than before.
Musuko stepped forward.
“Wakong Mode…” he muttered.
Kurejii smirked.
“Let’s make a comeback.”
Their eyes met.
And in that moment—
A memory returned.
An empty ground.
Just the two of them.
Musuko—wild, uncontrolled, overpowering every shot.
Kurejii—lazy, skipping classes, but playing with sharp strategy.
They played.
Power vs Mind.
The score:
30 – 30
Both collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily.
Kurejii laughed.
“First time… someone pushed me this far.”
Musuko grinned from the floor.
Then suddenly—Kurejii sat up, eyes shining.
“I got it!”
Musuko blinked.
“What?”
Kurejii pointed at him.
“You have raw strength. I have strategy. Together… we create something stronger.”
Musuko looked confused.
Kurejii explained:
⚡ Wakong Mode – The Three Principles
- Controlled Chaos
“Act loud. Act wild. Break their rhythm.” - Pattern Break
“Don’t follow logic. Attack from unexpected angles.” - Emotional Conversion
“Turn your anger into speed—not mistakes.”
Musuko blinked again.
“…I don’t understand.”
Kurejii shouted, then laughed.
“Fine, simple version!”
- Make them fear you
- Use your angles
- Turn emotion into power
He paused.
“But it’s dangerous. If you lose control—it becomes a disaster.”
Then he smiled.
“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you.”
Musuko stood up.
“Alright. I’m in.”
Kurejii thought for a moment.
“Your name means Monkey King… fast, wild… unstoppable…”
Both of them said it at the same time—
“Wakong Mode.”
⚡ Back to the Present
Final match.
Rain fading.
Crowd watching.
They looked at each other.
“I believe you.”
Rai served.
Musuko moved instantly—Wakong Mode activated.
Angle shot.
But—
Blocked.
The ball returned instantly.
Point — Kurogane.
Shock.
Kurejii’s expression froze.
For the first time… Wakong Mode isn’t working.
Scoreboard:
Hiroshima — 4
Kurogane — 12
On the sideline, Daigo smiled faintly.
“Going as planned.”
Again—
Saturo executed a perfect Sniper.
Again—
“Point for Kurogane.”
This time, the crowd reacted.
“That was in!”
But the referee raised his hand.
“No change.”
The pressure grew heavier.
Musuko looked at Kurejii… then Saturo.
They’re giving everything… what about me?
His head lowered.
Then—
His voice changed.
“I was born wild… trained sharp by my friend… Kurejii…”
He lifted his head.
“So even the heavens… have to deal with me.”
The next ball came.
Kurejii moved—
But suddenly—
Musuko appeared behind him.
Faster.
Stronger.
He returned the shot.
Point — Hiroshima.
Kurejii turned slowly.
Musuko smiled—wild, unhinged.
“I heard it… ‘Heaven Field.’”
Musuko looked up.
“Let’s do this… Crazy Monster.”
Kurejii grinned.
“I’ve been waiting… Monkey King.”
The match exploded in intensity.
Musuko dominated.
Within minutes—
4 consecutive points.
Daichi and Ren stepped forward.
“Iron Wall.”
Behind them, Rai spoke calmly:
“Play first. Talk later.”
They froze—then focused.
Kurejii watched closely.
A single word from him… and they fear him this much…
The rally extended.
Fast.
Relentless.
15 exchanges.
16th return—
Musuko reached—
And stumbled.
He began to fall.
Kurejii jumped to save—
His foot slipped.
“I won’t waste your effort…”
He returned the ball.
Daichi countered.
Nitiom stepped forward—
Soft touch.
Point — Hiroshima.
Both Musuko and Kurejii collapsed.
Teammates rushed in.
They helped them up.
Coach John signaled immediately.
“Substitution!”
Pranov and Haren entered.
As he walked off, Kurejii looked at Saturo.
“…Everything is on you now.”
Saturo nodded.
“Leave it to me.”
Saturo stepped to center court.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Relaxed.
Breathing slowed.
Then—
The world sharpened.
Rai served.
Saturo moved—
No hesitation.
No effort.
Just instinct.
Smash.
Point — Hiroshima.
From the bench, Akito’s eyes widened.
Scoreboard:
Hiroshima — 11
Kurogane — 16
Then—
A voice.
“Sorry… I’m late.”
Saturo turned.
Kido stood there.
Calm.
Ready.
–the end of part 4–
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