The moment Aoi Kunisaku landed from the block, he shot out like a leopard. He sprinted straight toward the basketball that had just been slapped away.
His movement was crisp and sharp. No hesitation at all. It was like that block just now was only the opening act of a bigger play.
Sawakita Eiji reacted right away. His eyes sharpened, and he kicked off the floor hard, chasing after him without a second thought.
Whatever Aoi Kunisaku planned next, he wasn't going to let it happen. Not even a basic dribble. He was going to bite down and stay right on him.
The basketball drew a high arc through the air before landing right in front of Aoi Kunisaku.
He reached out, gave it a slight pull with his wrist, and the ball settled cleanly into his hand.
At almost the same moment, Sawakita Eiji lunged at him, trying to swipe the ball just as it was caught.
But Aoi Kunisaku didn't even give him the chance.
With a flick of the fingers, the ball shifted from his left hand to his right. Then came a lightning-fast change of direction. The ball bounced wildly between his palms, fast enough to leave visual afterimages.
For a moment, the basketball felt like an extension of his body—fluid, untouchable.
Then came the launch of a Super High-Speed Dribble.
The once-still ball blurred in his hands. It was like some hidden force had just been triggered.
His whole body began to sway erratically, dancing an eerie and deadly rhythm across the floor.
Sawakita Eiji locked his gaze on him. Eyes wide open. Not daring to blink.
He focused hard, trying to catch even the tiniest movement in Aoi's motion.
But Aoi Kunisaku's tempo only grew faster. His footwork became erratic, untraceable—without any pattern at all.
At first, Sawakita Eiji could barely hang in. But soon, the speed overwhelmed him. His vision began to blur.
His eyes were dry, sore. Everything started to double.
The Aoi Kunisaku before him became a dozen overlapping shadows. Phantoms weaving through one another. He couldn't tell which was the real one—or which path would be the true breakthrough.
Even with 'Wild Instinct' activated, even with his reflexes pushed to their max, he still couldn't spot a single opening in Aoi's motion.
It was like facing down a violent storm. You know it's about to hit, but have no clue which direction it'll come from.
"Shit..." Sawakita Eiji clenched his jaw. His eyes held a glint of frustration. His thoughts screamed.
He knew it.
He knew Aoi Kunisaku still hadn't even used his real trump cards. This was just basic-level pressure play.
And yet...
He had already pulled out everything he had. Even tapped into parts of his strength he could never normally reach.
Still, faced with Aoi's seemingly effortless, airtight rhythm, he had no way to fight back.
The difference felt like an invisible canyon. Stretching between him and Aoi.
Every time he tried to close the gap, he'd get casually pushed back. Sent tumbling again.
That helplessness—it felt like getting hammered in the chest again and again. Right on the pride. It crushed his breath.
But he gritted his teeth and kept chasing.
Even though his vision was fading, and his steps were starting to stagger.
Even then, he chased Aoi Kunisaku all the way across half-court.
All the way into Akita's key.
It didn't even feel like defense anymore. It felt like he was being dragged into someone else's solo performance.
Aoi Kunisaku's lips curled into a faint smile. His eyes gleamed with mischief. Then, in the middle of his high-speed drive, he abruptly pulled back his steps.
He charged all the way into the paint—only to suddenly slam into a stop. Then came a smooth step-back fadeaway jumper.
The movement was fluid and practiced, like he had rehearsed it a thousand times. It was so quick, no one could react.
But Sawakita Eiji was still charging in full sprint. His body hadn't even caught up to the shift in tempo. That Max-to-Zero transition—was something entirely beyond his control.
The instant Aoi stopped, Eiji's body got yanked by inertia. He couldn't stop in time.
He stumbled forward a few steps. His footing was messy. His balance was off. All he could do was watch as he passed by Aoi Kunisaku.
By the time he barely steadied himself and turned back—
Aoi Kunisaku was already in the air. He'd launched into a smooth, deadly fadeaway.
The basketball rolled off his fingertips. Calm. Effortless.
Whoosh…
The ball cut through the air. A flat, precise arc.
Swish…
The clean sound echoed across the court as the ball sank straight through the net.
The scoreboard flashed.
Kanagawa 56, Akita 48.
The lead widened again. 8 points now.
The second half had barely begun. Akita had already given up 2 baskets—and both were devastating blows dealt by Aoi Kunisaku alone.
The mood on the court turned heavy. It was like the air itself got thinner.
Every player on Akita could feel it. A pressure. Invisible, but creeping closer.
And it wasn't from the scoreboard. It was from the man wearing number 9, whose face looked so calm.
Especially for Sawakita Eiji—he felt it more than anyone.
His breath was ragged. Sweat streamed down his face. But what truly suffocated him was the presence Aoi Kunisaku now gave off.
Something had changed.
In the first half, Aoi had been like a slumbering beast. He'd stretch, yawn, move lazily. But even those casual motions carried a chill.
Now, that beast was wide awake.
It wasn't just lazily showing off its strength anymore. Its eyes were open. Its muscles tightened. Its blood surged. Its nerves were alert. Every strand of hair stood ready to strike.
Sawakita Eiji could feel it clearly. Aoi was slowly unleashing his real strength.
On the court—
Eiji still stuck close, trailing Aoi's every move with unbroken focus.
His eyes locked on, body adjusting step by step. Like a hunting dog that refused to let go.
But as Aoi moved more, cut sharper, changed direction faster—Eiji started to feel it.
His legs. They were getting heavier.
His breath was shorter. His legs felt like they were filled with lead. Each push off the floor took more out of him than the last.
He was still barely keeping up. But that familiar helpless feeling was creeping in again. Like a string pulled too tight. Ready to snap.
And he knew.
He was already close to his limit.
But Aoi Kunisaku—looked like he was just getting started.
Somewhere deep down, Sawakita Eiji had a sinking feeling.
If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before he'd be completely left behind.