"I'm Rikuya Kanzaki," he said. "One of the Kings of the Court."{Rikuya Kanzaki☆King of the Court}

The air seemed to shiver, a low hum vibrating through the corridor. Marcus froze mid-step, Yuuto stiffened, and even the echoes of sneakers on polished floors sounded muted, as if time itself hesitated to move. The weight of Kanzaki's words sank deep into the pit of their stomachs.

Kanzaki smirked, the kind of smile that didn't just reach the lips—it radiated dominance. "I've been watching your game," he continued, eyes narrowing with deliberate intensity. "You've got fire, but you're still rough. If that was your 'limit,' then you're not ready for what's next."

He stepped closer, the movement precise, almost predatory. His gaze locked onto Yuuto. "Especially you, Prodigy of the court "

Yuuto's jaw clenched. His pulse picked up, every nerve ending vibrating with adrenaline. "You watched the game?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Every second," Kanzaki replied casually, almost too calm for the intensity radiating off him. "You've got something special… but special doesn't mean strong."

Marcus shifted slightly, stepping forward, eyes narrowing to match Kanzaki's. "Then what does?"

"Dominance," Kanzaki said, teeth glinting in the fluorescent hall light.

A sudden ripple of movement approached behind him. Two of his teammates appeared, moving with ease that spoke of countless hours on court together. One was tall, with the analytical precision of a chess master in every motion; the other radiated an almost playful arrogance, swinging his bag over his shoulder as if the world itself was a game he always won.

"It's time, Kanzaki," the taller one said quietly, voice calm but commanding. "We've lingered long enough."

The playful one grinned. "Yeah, let's not waste time intimidating school kids forever. The Real Tournament won't wait."

Kanzaki didn't break eye contact with Marcus and Yuuto. He inclined his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment that he had heard them, then turned back to his teammates. "Let's go," he said smoothly.

The tall teammate fell in beside him, straightening his back as if preparing to walk a path carved of precision itself. The playful one lingered for a heartbeat, giving Marcus a cheeky grin before falling into step. Kanzaki's aura seemed to swell, a subtle red haze radiating from him like a smoldering ember threatening to ignite.

Marcus felt the weight of it, an invisible pressure pressing down, challenging everything he thought he knew about presence and leadership. Beside him, Yuuto's hands flexed. The tension in the air wasn't just from the confrontation; it was the unspoken challenge laid down by a King of the Court, older, sharper, untouchable.

Kanzaki paused by the vending machine lining the hall. The fluorescent lights reflected off his eyes like twin shards of amber glass. "You," he said to Yuuto, voice low, carrying an edge of amusement, "keep your head. Special… yes. But raw potential isn't mastery." He pressed a button on the machine, the clunking of the coin dropping sounding like gunfire in the hallway.

Yuuto didn't flinch. He met Kanzaki's gaze evenly. "And you? Just born with talent?" His voice was steady, but inside, every nerve screamed, "You are formidable. Watch. Learn."

Kanzaki chuckled, the sound low, measured, like the final note of a piano chord that lingers longer than expected. He grabbed the can, the metal cold against his palm. "You'll see what comes from dedication," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Special doesn't win. Dominance does."

Marcus finally stepped forward again. "And what about leadership? How do you lead your team?"

Kanzaki smirked, taking a sip, lips curling with satisfaction. "Leadership isn't about barking orders," he said. "It's about presence. Commanding attention. Making every heartbeat around you feel your rhythm. You'll understand soon enough."

Yuuto's eyes narrowed. "And if someone tries to break your rhythm?"

Kanzaki laughed softly, a sound that bounced off the walls and seemed to fill the space between them. "Then you adapt. You impose dominance, don't follow it." He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Remember this: the court is mine for the taking."

The words struck like fire. Marcus felt a strange resonance—this King wasn't just boasting. He was issuing a challenge, subtle but undeniable. And Yuuto, his fists tightening by his sides, felt the spark ignite inside him—the same spark that had carried him through every impossible game.

A shift in the air warned them that the teammates would not linger any longer. Kanzaki took a deliberate step toward the door leading to the locker rooms, the red aura around him pulsing faintly like it had a heartbeat of its own. Behind him, his two companions adjusted, ready to leave the hall. The first, the calculated one, seemed to scan every corner of the corridor with a predator's awareness. The playful one let out a soft whistle, like a minstrel teasing his audience, but kept pace with Kanzaki without distraction.

Marcus glanced at Yuuto. The words they had heard weren't just intimidation—they were a lesson wrapped in a threat. This was the bar. This was the level of mastery they had to one day surpass. Yuuto nodded slightly, expression grim, understanding what Marcus already knew: meeting a King of the Court was never a casual encounter.

Kanzaki turned his head just slightly, enough that Marcus caught the glint in his eyes. "See you on the court," he said, voice carrying down the hallway like a rolling thunder. Then, with the smooth authority that marked him, he moved off, leaving the two teams and the corridor behind him.

The echo of his footsteps faded slowly, leaving silence, but the tension remained thick. Yuuto's fists unclenched slightly, then tightened again. "So… that's the other one huh," Marcus said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

Yuuto's eyes gleamed with focus. "The Kings of the Court…"

They stood there a moment longer, letting the hallway absorb the weight of the encounter. The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, as if reacting to the energy still hanging in the air. Marcus wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts, exhaling slowly. "We'll be ready," he muttered. "Next time…"

Yuuto didn't reply. He was already replaying every second of Kanzaki's presence in his mind, analyzing, memorizing. Every stride, every inflection, every micro-expression—the King's rhythm. The pulse that could dictate the flow of a court, the aura that made him feel small, yet alive with challenge.

Marcus followed his gaze, sensing the same electricity that coursed through Yuuto. "Yeah… next time, we fight as ourselves. Not shadows, not echoes."

Yuuto finally nodded, a faint smirk forming. "Exactly. And we'll show them what the Pulse can really do."

At that moment, the vending machine beeped quietly behind them, a mundane contrast to the high-stakes tension. The can rattled down, landing in the tray with a soft clang. Marcus picked it up and tossed it lightly to Yuuto, who caught it without looking. The ordinary act felt surreal, almost grounding, after the intensity of standing before one of the Kings.

They continued walking toward the locker rooms, shoulders tense, hearts racing, but steps steady. The hallway seemed smaller, the fluorescent lights sharper, the echoes of Kanzaki's words lingering in every footfall.

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