Timeout Over — Both Teams Return to the Court
As the whistle blew, both teams walked back to their positions.Kota clicked his tongue when he saw Hirakawa Takeshi step right up beside him. "Tch… this is gonna be a pain."
He didn't need to think hard — just from Takeshi's style, he could tell the guy was handpicked by Akashi specifically to counter him.
Just like how Kota knew Akashi's rhythm and weaknesses by heart, Akashi also knew exactly how to shut Kota down.
Originally, Kota had planned to take control of the second quarter himself and widen Kaijo's lead — but with this annoying rookie suddenly thrown at him, their whole plan had to change. Kise had to be activated earlier than expected.
"Seriously… why are Rakuzan's freshmen such monsters? Our rookies aren't bad either, damn it…"
Kota scratched his head in frustration and glanced at his teammates. Takumi was waiting near the wing, ready to set a screen at any moment. Yuki was standing neatly next to Mibuchi, waiting for Kota's signal.
Without overthinking it, Kota moved to the backcourt to start the play—but after two steps, he stopped dead in his tracks and suddenly turned toward Yuki, staring at him intently.
"Wh-what's wrong, Kota-senpai?"
Yuki flinched. Before he could ask further, Kota strode right up and pinched his cheeks hard.
"Wha—Kota-senpai, please stop doing that!"
The poor rookie squirmed helplessly, too scared to resist, muttering small complaints as Kota continued to squish his face.
From the sidelines, Mibuchi raised an eyebrow at the bizarre scene. But since he was on the opposing side, he just stood and watched in silence.
Kota finally burst into laughter—bright, genuine laughter. After giving Yuki's cheeks one last rough squeeze, he turned toward Kise, who was watching amusedly from the side, and gestured with his hand.
Kota: "Change of plans. Ball's mine."
Kise: "Roger that!"
The exchange happened in an instant. Since no new tactics were drawn up during the timeout, there was no need for another.
Kota patted Yuki's shoulder and leaned in close, ignoring Mibuchi's shameless eavesdropping.
"Listen up, Yuki. It's your turn to shine, kid."
...
"Alright, we're back after the timeout! Kaijo has possession. Kota brings the ball up past half court—will he go for another isolation play? Wait, what's this? He passes to his teammate on the wing… and walks straight to the corner? What's he planning?"
The commentator, Bobo, hesitated as the camera zoomed in on Kota, who was signaling for a spread offense—this time, not for himself, but for Yuki.
"Go for it, Yuki! But if you miss this one, I'm coming for you after the game!" Kota joked, hands on hips and a playful grin on his face.
He didn't expect that what he thought was a joke would actually send Yuki into a nervous panic.Yuki froze at the top of the key, clutching the ball like it was a live grenade. Gone was the fiery energy from practice—he looked like a deer in headlights.
"Hey, Kota! You scared the poor guy!" Kise called out, frowning.
"Scared? He's fine! …I think" Kota muttered. The two started bickering midcourt, completely ignoring the fact that the game was still going.
Akashi, watching nearby, frowned. His eyes flickered as he studied Yuki. Something about the boy's composure—or lack thereof—set off his instincts.
"They're this relaxed… even against us?"
He quietly activated the Emperor Eye, scanning Yuki's future movements—but after only a few seconds, Akashi's expression changed drastically. Before he could warn Reo, the latter had already lunged forward to steal.
"You standing there waiting for me to take it from you? Don't mind if I do!"
Mibuchi barked as he darted in, arm sweeping toward the ball.
Yuki froze—just standing there stiffly, looking completely terrified.Reo grinned. He could already see the fast-break dunk in his mind.
But then—
Yuki suddenly dropped the ball low, dodging Mibuchi's hand in a sharp motion.
Then, as Mibuchi stumbled forward from overcommitting, Yuki closed his eyes and shouted,
"Sumimasen!"
And in the same instant, his body exploded forward like a bullet.
Mibuchi couldn't react. His center of gravity was off from the steal attempt, and by the time he recovered, Yuki was already slicing into the paint.
From the corner, Akashi's pupils glowed gold. His body twitched, ready to rotate and help defend—but the Emperor Eye flashed again, warning him.
At the corner three-point line stood Kaijo's deadliest shooters: Kota and Kise.
If I help inside and they kick it out… yeah, no thanks.
Akashi sighed and stayed put, his gaze shifting toward Rakuzan's center, Nebuya, standing tall under the rim.
"...Good luck, big guy," Akashi muttered.
"You're not getting past me!"
Nebuya roared, muscles bulging as he planted his feet. Even though his position wasn't ideal, he was confident he could swat this rookie into next week.
Yuki charged forward, clutching the ball tight. Despite his nerves, his court sense and vision remained sharp—he instantly analyzed the floor.
Cho was sealed behind Nebuya, Takumi was floating near the perimeter, and Kota and Kise — were both waiting in the corners, clearly not planning to cut or rotate.
With no passing options left, Yuki had no choice but to go alone. He looked up at the towering Nebuya in front of him, his heart pounding. So scary…
Still—he jumped.
Yuki leaped with all his might, extending the ball high with one arm — while Nebuya launched up as well, roaring,
"This skinny kid? I'll block him back to middle school!"
But halfway through the air, Nebuya's eyes widened. Yuki's hand… kept rising.
Past his forehead. Past the rim. Past Nebuya's own hand.
"You've gotta be kidding me—"
BOOM!
The entire hoop shook violently as the slam echoed through the gym. Nebuya, completely stunned, lost his balance midair and crashed hard onto the floor.
For a second, everything went silent. Rakuzan's players froze. Only Akashi—who had already foreseen it—closed his eyes and exhaled.
Then—
"WHOOOOOO! LET'S GO, KID!!!"
Kota and Kise exploded off the bench, sprinting over to Yuki and rubbing his hair like maniacs.
The crowd erupted. Cheers thundered through the stadium as Kaijo fans stood up, shouting Yuki's name.
No one could believe it—Kaijo's quiet, polite rookie had just posterized Rakuzan's powerhouse center in the national finals!
"Unbelievable! Kaijo's first-year guard, Yuki, just dunked over Rakuzan's center Nebuya! What a highlight!"
Bobo's voice nearly cracked as he pulled up the rookie's stats.
"Before this game, Yuki averaged thirteen points, five assists, and five rebounds — a solid but unremarkable stat line for a starter on a championship contender. But this play just changed everything!"
"With this slam, Yuki has proven his talent and potential! He might still be raw, but mark my words—this kid could become Kaijo's future franchise player!"
Bobo's passionate outburst rolled like a wave across the broadcast, his excitement contagious.
On the court, Yuki was living up to every bit of Kota's trust. When left as the second-quarter focal point, he didn't disappoint—his smooth drives and explosive first step shredded Rakuzan's defense time and again.
Even Akashi had to command Nebuya to prioritize help defense, easing pressure on Hayakawa inside.
The shift not only solved Kaijo's scoring issue in the quarter but also freed up Hayakawa from being bullied in the post — perfect tactical balance.
By the end of the second quarter, Kaijo led 57–49.
Kota glanced at the scoreboard and chuckled.
"Guess I went too far hiding him, huh? I almost forgot we had a guy like Yuki."
From the start of the nationals, Kota had planned for Yuki to stay under the radar—his secret weapon.He never expected the kid to take "lay low" so literally.
Never hogging the ball, never forcing shots—only moving, assisting, and playing within the system. He played the role of a textbook support player too perfectly.
"So… I tell you to be a role player, and you become the perfect 3&D. Then I tell you to take over, and you turn into a franchise star…"
Kota sighed, grinning in disbelief. "My juniors are way too obedient—and way too damn strong."
As the buzzer signaled halftime, Kaijo led by eight.Kota leaned back on the bench, sweat rolling down his temple, eyes narrowing toward Rakuzan's side.
The air around them had changed. Something fierce—something dangerous—was building.
"Good job, Yuki" Kota said, patting his shoulder. "But take a breather. You've earned it."
Yuki looked up, still burning with adrenaline, wanting to stay in. His lips moved but no words came out.
I can still play…
Kota chuckled.
"Don't give me that look. You're terrible at hiding your emotions, kid. It's written all over your face."
He grinned, resting a hand on Yuki's head again.
"Listen up. If you see a chance to score in the second half, go for it. Don't hesitate. Don't fear mistakes—nobody here's gonna blame you for trying."
Then Kota turned toward the rest of the team.
"Bigs—watch my signals. We'll run more high screens and post rotations next half. Rakuzan's gonna come hard on defense, so don't be afraid to play physical. We've got fouls to spare."
Takumi and Hayakawa both nodded firmly. They weren't stars, but they were the glue—the ones who made everything work.
Finally, Kota's gaze fell on Kise. He smirked."And you, Mr. Genius — don't choke in the second half, yeah?"
Kise rolled his eyes but puffed up his chest. "Ha! Me? Choke? Just sit back and watch me shine!"
Then, with a teasing grin, he added, "But you better not get stomped by Akashi, Kota, or I'll never let you live it down!"
Kota laughed, standing up and adjusting his jersey. His eyes swept across every Kaijo player—focused, burning, united.
Everyone stepped closer, hands resting on each other's shoulders.
Kota took a deep breath, grin sharp as fire.
"Kaijo!"
"CHAMPIONS!!"
...
BEEP—!
A sharp whistle pierced through the arena as the second half officially began.
Possession belonged to Rakuzan. Akashi dribbled the ball upcourt, a faint flash of pink lightning flickering in his eyes.
Kota's expression sharpened immediately. As Akashi's longtime rival, he knew exactly what that look meant. Bending his knees slightly, he tugged at his shorts, eyes narrowing—then, as if responding to Akashi's signal, a streak of white lightning flashed across his own eyes.
Come on then!
No words were exchanged, but in that split-second stare, both players read each other's intentions perfectly.
And then—Akashi moved.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Low dribbles echoed across the court. His movements weren't flashy, but the pressure radiating from him was overwhelming, pressing down on Kota like an invisible weight.
Thud! Thud!...
As Akashi's dribbling speed increased, Kota's center of gravity instinctively dropped lower and lower.
Then—THUD!—a deep, heavy bounce. This time, Akashi didn't wait. A sharp, clean crossover to the front, and he slipped past Kota's side in a blur.
Kota saw everything clearly. He tried to slide his foot and block the path——but suddenly, his knees gave out slightly, the strength in his legs evaporating in an instant.
"Damn it—! Recover!"
With a shout, Kota planted his right hand on the floor, steadying himself, and took off after Akashi at full speed.
In the paint, Takumi — who'd been watching the one-on-one closely — stepped up immediately, his massive frame sealing Akashi's passing lane.
But this was Akashi.
Without even looking at him, Akashi glanced over his shoulder at Kota closing in, then flicked his wrist. The ball zipped straight through Takumi's legs and landed perfectly in the hands of Takeshi, who had been waiting under the basket.
And as Kaijo's last line of defense, Hayakawa — still boxed out by Nebuya — could only watch helplessly as Takeshi laid the ball in.
Rakuzan scored two.
But it didn't end there.
The moment Hirasawa caught Akashi's pass, a pink spark flashed across his eyes as well. He clenched his fist, feeling a strange surge of power course through him—astonishment spreading across his face.
And not just him — every Rakuzan player who received Akashi's pass entered the Zone. Their abilities skyrocketed in unison. This was Akashi's ultimate weapon — the Team Zone!
Seeing the five flashes of lightning in his opponents' eyes, Kota frowned slightly.
"No matter how many times I see it... that move's just too damn cool."
Still, admiration didn't stop him from organizing Kaijo's offense. He dribbled across half court, only to notice something odd—both Kise and Yuki were standing high, hands out, calling for the ball.
Yuki realized the problem almost at once. He and Kise had somehow taken the same position. After a brief pause, he started cutting toward the baseline, clearly not planning to contest the ball.
But Kota had other ideas.
He waved Yuki back and gave Kise a quick glance, silently signaling his choice. He was passing to Yuki.
Kise froze for a moment, surprised. But even as Kaijo's ace, he had never once questioned Kota's decision-making. When Kota called the shots, everyone followed. That unity was what had carried Kaijo this far.
"Yuki, go for it. This one's from your big bro Kise."
Kota grinned, tossed the ball to Yuki, then rested his hands on his hips, stepping to the weak side to clear the lane.
Everyone knew full well that Rakuzan's full-team Zone was not something Yuki could break through on his own. Giving him the ball here was basically setting him up for failure.
But Kota had a plan.
Yuki had been a key factor in the second quarter, building their lead with several crucial plays. And even now, with the game tied, Kota wouldn't refuse a teammate who had the confidence to call for the ball.
After all, what could be more rewarding for a senior than watching a junior struggle, stumble, and then grow stronger because of it?
"Sorry, genius" Kota thought, glancing at Kise, who was watching Yuki's drive with an eager grin. But I think you'll understand what I'm doing.
Kota couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head.
With this kind of team chemistry, it was no wonder Kaijo had become a powerhouse.