"Kise catches the ball on the wing—going one-on-one with Akashi! He makes his move—blows right past him! No, wait! Akashi spins around—steals it! Loose ball for Nebuya! Can Rakuzan capitalize on this fast break opportunity?"
"Hold up, it's not over yet! Kise's turnover doesn't make Kota give up—he dives for the ball… and gets it! Kota snatches it back and immediately passes to Kise again! Kise goes up despite Nebuya's defense—and slams it right over him!!"
"Kise!!! At the start of the fourth quarter, he delivers another jaw-dropping dunk! That's Kaijo's ace for you—Ryota Kise!!"
Inside the live broadcast, Bobo's mouth moves like a machine gun as the replay rolls frame by frame. Honestly, it's no surprise this streamer has such a massive fanbase. It's not just his charm and quick wit—his commentary and player analysis are top-tier.
Not everyone can call a play-by-play sequence this fast without even taking a breath. Sasa and Nini, watching beside him, now looked at Bobo differently. A few minutes ago, they were just being polite coworkers. Now, there was a spark of genuine respect.
The chat exploded, flooding with praise—not just for Kise's dunk, but for Bobo's commentary too.
Seeing this, Bobo's mustache twitched slightly. He covered his mouth with one hand to hide a smug grin—maintaining that polite, humble persona every public figure needs to master. Clearing his throat, he smiled to the camera:
"Alright, folks! Let's get our focus back on the court—Kise's free throw is good…"
No matter how spectacular Kota and Kise's last play looked, in basketball, a highlight dunk is still just two points.
Kise calmly drained the free throw, stretching Kaijo's lead again.
87–78. Kaijo up by nine.
A nine-point lead wasn't bad—Kaijo was definitely in control for now. But the fourth quarter had just begun. Ten full minutes remained. In basketball, someone once scored thirteen points in thirty-five seconds. Stretch that over ten minutes, and… well, you do the math. Terrifying.
Of course, no one—not even a god descending from the heavens—could keep up a "thirty-five-second miracle" rhythm for ten minutes straight. Still…
Ten minutes was plenty of time for anything to happen.
"Get that stop!"
Kota barked out as he stepped up to guard Akashi. The red-haired captain's dribbling was so precise it was nearly impossible to steal, but Kota pressed up close regardless. Effort first—always.
"Raaahhh!!"
A roar came from the paint. Without even looking back, Kota could tell it was Koizumi. But he had no time to check if his senior was alive or dying. His eyes locked onto Akashi's hips, trying to read the direction of the drive.
Unfortunately, what worked on normal players barely affected Akashi.
Switching the ball between both hands, Akashi's movements were simple, pure, and stripped of any excess.
No flashy fakes.
No wasted motion.
And yet that simplicity alone sliced open the defense.
Kota's balance shifted unconsciously—Akashi moved, just a small push and cross-step, and he was gone.
Still, Kota didn't give up. He spun around immediately, trying to replicate Akashi's earlier steal on Kise with a desperate gamble, swiping at the ball.
No luck. Without the "Emperor Eye" Kota's timing was just off.
"Damn it…"
He cursed under his breath, spinning around to chase Akashi again.
Inside the paint, Hayakawa had suddenly gained the upper hand.
Eyes bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead, Hayakawa looked like he was about to explode. Even so, he held position perfectly, blocking Nebuya out front despite being smaller.
Then Akashi approached the lane. Seeing him, Hayakawa immediately abandoned his position and lunged forward to help.
Too late.
Akashi measured the distance between Hayakawa in front and Kota chasing from behind—then softly floated the ball up with a rare mid-range floater.
Swish.
For smaller guards, that kind of floater is gold against taller defenders. Of course Akashi could do it—he just usually didn't need to.
"I can make that shot anytime I want… even dunk if I feel like it" Akashi muttered, his tone darker than usual, maybe influenced by his golden persona.
"Geez, this guy's scary as hell," Kota clicked his tongue. He turned to head for the inbound line when Hayakawa's voice suddenly rang out behind him.
"Sumimasen! I failed to stop him again!"
"Huh?"
Kota blinked and turned around.
Hayakawa was bowing deeply now. "Sumimasen, it's my fault… This game wouldn't be this close if not for me…"
The more he spoke, the lower his head sank—soon it was almost scraping the court.
Kota sighed helplessly and motioned to Takeuchi for a timeout.
Timeout, Kaijo.
"For crying out loud… the two rookies are fine, but our senior's the one breaking down? You're a third-year, man! I didn't even let Coach use a timeout last quarter, and now you're mentally crumbling?!"
Kota grabbed Hayakawa by the collar and dragged him to the bench.
Takeuchi gave Kota a glance, then quickly gathered the rest of the team for a defensive briefing. Despite being spoiled by Kota's leadership lately, the ex-national player still had a good basketball brain.
"Listen," Takeuchi started, "Nebuya's built like a tank, and you're smaller. That's just how it is—no shame in being outmuscled. Every center gets crushed sometimes. Even that red-haired kid across from you—Akashi—he's been shut down by me before! You see him crying about it? No! He's still playing just fine!"
Akashi: "???"
Takeuchi's tone carried weight. Hayakawa's guilty expression softened, though he still sniffled, muttering, "But… I couldn't stop Akashi. Not once. Every time he drives, I can't hold him…"
His nose twitched like he was about to cry.
Kota sighed, then delivered a swift karate chop to his head.
"Argh…"
This time, unlike when he smacked Kise, it was Kota who hissed in pain, shaking out his hand.
Man, does this guy have a rock for a skull?!
Still, pain aside, Kota had to keep his captain composure. He slung an arm around Hayakawa's shoulders and said, "Of course you can't stop Akashi—because…"
"I'm the one supposed to be guarding him!"
"Eh?"
Hayakawa froze, blinking.
Kota continued, dead serious: "You didn't fail to stop him. I did. I'm the one he keeps getting past, and you're the one helping. So if he scores after getting by me, that's on me. You just happened to be the unlucky guy nearby when he did. So technically, he scored because I let him. Got it?"
Hayakawa paused, processing that simple logic. "…So… it's your fault?"
Kota: "…"
"Well, yeah, you could say that—but that's not the point!"
Kota waved it off and leaned in closer, pointing at the scoreboard.
"See that? No matter how tough this game gets, we've only got ten minutes left this season. That's all we need to give everything."
He clapped Hayakawa on the shoulder as the referee blew the whistle to resume play.
"Hayakawa-senpai, I saw that box-out earlier. You've still got fire in you. Keep that up—I'm counting on you."
"After all… you're Kaijo's most reliable senpai!"
Kota grinned, gave him a solid smack on the head, and strolled back to the court, hands behind his head, humming casually.
Behind him, Hayakawa suddenly straightened up, muscles flexing, steam practically rising off his body.
"I'm fired up again!!"
Hearing the noise, Kota couldn't help but laugh. For all his immaturity, Hayakawa's pure-hearted simplicity wasn't the worst thing in the world.
"Let's go, boys!"
"ROAR!!"
Back on the court—Kaijo ball.
Kota dribbled past half court, scanning the floor. On the opposite side, Kise stood ready to receive, staring down Akashi—but his eyes said it all: Don't pass to me, bro, I'm not confident right now.
Inside, Hayakawa was battling Nebuya with the same enthusiasm as a shōnen hero, glaring at Kota with a look that screamed: You pass it, I'll dunk it!
Kota expressionlessly turned away, glancing at the weak side where the two first-years stood like obedient puppies, waiting for orders.
"Good grief… these senior idiots are hopeless," he muttered, biting back a grin.
Facing his defender — Takeshi — Kota saw pink sparks practically flying from his eyes, pure fury emanating from him. He clearly hadn't forgotten that third-quarter defensive foul and the technical.
Feeling the death glare on him, Kota sighed dramatically.
"The road ahead sure is long…"