"Have you heard?"
Slowly but surely whispers were being carried along, as if like mist themselves, seeping through the areas one by one. It was like a whirlwind of hushed information spun by freshmen and seniors alike, each story more unheard of than the last.
That there was a teenager playing basketball.
"Yes, I've heard! I've heard!"
Who played a team's game explicitly by himself. That he challenged whole teams. Independently, dangerously, deadly.
"His victims scream."
Whose supposed style of basketball stuns and paralyses his victims on the court, victims who later screech horrifyingly of snakes and tridents and lotus flowers. The rumours talk of a boy, their age; the undefeated champion on the basketball court; the boy who has mercilessly crushed- no, traumatised the people whom went in his way, disappearing after every game.
"They say he's the devil reincarnated."
His group of fan-girls were growing, even at this very moment, as they hear of this supposedly dark, tall and mysterious sporting genius. A couple have seen him in person- seen the elegance of his slender physique and the flawlessly crafted features of a face so fine, almost feminine in beauty yet undeniably masculine and framed by long locks a shade lighter than night. He was more than handsome, more than charming and his fangirls hasten to spread the news.
In the most recent area bombarded, two senior students of Rakuzan could only stare at a younger boy with twitching features and mouth agape in rapid disbelief and doubt. They, too, have heard of these increasingly famous rumours and have actively attempted to seek out the truth within the lies. Yet, before them, stood their current information source, the shorter boy who had literally appeared out of nowhere, light green hair poking out from under the most ridiculous hoodie in existence.
"He laughs funny. And he has a pineapple like this on his head." The green-haired male deadpanned with the most emotionless voice, his arms imitating something incomprehensible on top of his humongous hood.
Still, the search for this unexpected basketball phenomenon continued.
And from the perspective of the oblivious subject of all the rumours, the public menace named Rokudo Mukuro wondered about the increasing number of relatively muscular, tall students approaching him out of nowhere. They all seemed to have something in common- an unconditional love for the sport of basketball, something that the mist-user never bothered to research into.
He has wondered about the increasing number of foolish basketball players who have donned a look of realisation at his hair, and had the audacity to mutter things related to the forbidden 'p' word, a ridiculous rumour and how it was true. Those fools were immediately dealt with of course, as they found themselves summoned to the basketball courts and KO-ed- literally- before they even realised they were in a game.
Miles away, one Namimori middle school student, Sawada Tsunayoshi wondered why and what his reluctant mist guardian did whenever he disappeared, to return with such an irritated but satisfied aura.