Slam Dunk:Starting with perfect copy

On the Shohoku bench, confusion spread among the players as they watched the court.

"How did that ball go in?" Yasuda muttered.

"Rukawa clearly blocked his shot!"

Ayako turned to Coach Anzai, her disbelief evident.

Coach Anzai, ever calm, explained patiently, "It wasn't one shot—it was two. He executed two consecutive shots in mid-air."

The bench fell silent.

"Two shots?" Ayako repeated in shock.

Coach Anzai nodded. "His speed was so fast that it looked like a single motion. Rukawa blocked the first, but the real shot followed immediately after."

Hearing this, the entire Shohoku bench—and even the players on the court—were dumbfounded.

"Is that even possible?!"

Even Ryonan's substitutes, who had grown accustomed to Kenichi Uesugi's unorthodox skills, were visibly impressed.

Coach Anzai, outwardly composed, couldn't help but feel a ripple of awe. "Such a technique," he thought, "is something I haven't seen in years."

"If I could train him..." A spark of ambition flickered in Anzai's usually serene mind. "This boy could surpass even the greatest talents this country has seen."

In the audience, Yayoi Aida sat frozen. She had stopped taking notes entirely, replaying what she had just witnessed. Her brother's earlier claims about Uesugi being a prodigy no longer seemed like exaggeration.

"This guy's talent is unreal," she thought.

Her attention shifted to Ryonan as a whole. With a lineup boasting Sendoh, Yuzumi, and now Kenichi Uesugi, the team seemed almost invincible. "Could my brother's team really make it to the national stage?"

Back on the court, the game resumed. Shohoku was undeterred, launching their next offensive. Yasuda brought the ball up the court but found himself cornered by Uesugi's relentless defense. Forced to pass, the ball eventually reached Rukawa Kaede.

Rukawa, facing Kenichi Uesugi head-on, felt no fear. On the contrary, his competitive spirit ignited. The stronger the opponent, the more excited he became.

Driving toward the basket, Rukawa pushed through Uesugi's defense, his movements sharp and aggressive. But Kenichi shadowed his every step, leaving no openings.

Reaching the paint, Rukawa leaped for a shot. Uesugi mirrored him instantly, his presence smothering Rukawa's shooting angle. Realizing he couldn't shoot, Rukawa adjusted mid-air, pulling the ball back and passing it behind Uesugi toward Akagi, who had established a dominant position under the basket.

"This is it," Rukawa thought. "Akagi can finish this!"

But before the ball reached Akagi, a sudden blur interrupted its path.

"Bang!"

Kenichi Uesugi, without turning, stretched his arm backward and intercepted the pass cleanly.

"What?!" Rukawa's eyes widened in disbelief.

"How did he see that?!"

The pass had come from Rukawa's blind spot. There was no way Kenichi could have anticipated it—unless he had predicted the play in advance.

Akagi, watching from under the basket, was equally stunned. The seamlessness of Uesugi's interception left him speechless.

"Haruko was right," Akagi thought, recalling her words from the previous night. "This guy isn't just strong—he's stronger than Rukawa!"

On the Shohoku bench, Ayako fumed. "It's him again! Kenichi Uesugi is unstoppable!"

But Coach Anzai remained silent, his gaze fixed on Uesugi. Behind his glasses, there was a rare glint of intrigue.

"He reminds me of... Ryuji Tani Sawa," Anzai thought, reminiscing about his most gifted former student. "But this boy... might surpass even him."

After the steal, Uesugi quickly passed the ball upcourt to Uekusa, who was already sprinting. A smooth handoff to Ikegami led to an easy layup.

"16–10," the announcer called.

Ryonan had regained its rhythm, and Tanabe Shigeka breathed a sigh of relief.

"With Uesugi on the court, Ryonan's offense will never falter," he thought.

Meanwhile, Shohoku was left reeling. Their attacks were crumbling against Uesugi's skills, and their morale wavered.

But Kenichi Uesugi wasn't done yet. As he jogged back on defense, his confidence radiated. Despite his youth, his skills,

perception, and composure made him a terrifying presence.

Coach Anzai observed him carefully, a deep admiration growing.

"He's only a first-year," Anzai thought. "His potential is limitless. If nurtured correctly, he could reshape the future of basketball."