The first quarter ended.
Three minutes of rest.
Haizaki Shogo led his teammates back to the bench.
Coach Ichiro Kudo stepped forward and looked at them with satisfaction.
"Good. Your performance in the first quarter was excellent. Keep this rhythm and maintain the lead."
"Yes, Coach!"
The players responded in unison, energized and confident.
Kudo's gaze shifted to Haizaki.
"Shogo… Aomine Daiki is still yours to handle."
"No problem."
"Good."
The team visibly relaxed at Haizaki's answer.
As long as Haizaki was still standing, they believed they could fight Tōō Academy—and even win.
Haizaki took the water and towel from Shimizu Rena. He gave her a casual smile, confident and slightly smug.
======
On the opposite bench, Tōō Academy's coach Harasawa Katsunori frowned as he watched his team—and Aomine Daiki in particular.
Fukuda Sogo's Haizaki Shogo wasn't just strong.
He was chaos on the court.
A "disruptor" who could steal and replicate skills at will.
A nightmare matchup.
And if Tōō Academy wanted the championship…
Haizaki was the final wall they had to break.
Harasawa scratched his light purple hair, sighing quietly.
In his generation, monsters like this had never existed.
Now they appeared one after another.
He looked at Aomine, who had a towel covering his face.
"Aomine. If we take down Haizaki, we win this game. Can you do it?"
Silence.
Aomine didn't answer.
He was somewhere else entirely.
For him, this wasn't frustration.
It was joy.
Pure excitement.
It's been so long… since I've been pushed like this.
This feels good.
Satsuki Momoi lightly touched his shoulder.
"Aomine…"
That single whisper brought him back.
He lifted the towel and blinked.
"Huh? What?"
Harasawa repeated his instruction.
"Stop Haizaki. That's your job."
Aomine smirked.
"Yeah. Leave it to me. I'll shut that arrogant guy down."
=======
On the Seirin side of the stands—
"This is unbelievable… even Aomine Daiki is being pressured."
"Was Haizaki always this strong?"
"No, Kagami-kun. He was strong before… but not like this."
"Then how did they grow this much?"
"I don't know."
Silence followed.
For Seirin, both Aomine and Haizaki felt like unreachable monsters.
Then Kiyoshi Teppei spoke.
"Talent is the foundation. But hard work matters too. They've probably put in far more effort than we can imagine."
His tone wasn't just analysis.
It was encouragement.
A silent reminder.
If we work harder… we can catch up.
Kagami Taiga's eyes lit up immediately.
"That's right!"
His energy spread through the team.
Seirin refocused.
The match continued.
Three minutes passed quickly.
The whistle blew.
The fourth quarter began.
Haizaki stepped onto the court with his team.
A blue streak of lightning exploded across the floor.
Aomine Daiki.
Already in his zone-like state.
Haizaki grinned.
Fate really is funny.
Yesterday I used Midorima's rhythm against him…
And now Aomine is using mine.
He was enjoying it.
Truly enjoying it.
Aomine dribbled freely, changing rhythm without hesitation.
No structure.
No rules.
Pure instinct.
He jumped.
Released the ball.
"SWOOSH!"
The ball dropped cleanly into the hoop.
Haizaki narrowed his eyes slightly.
So that's your "flow"…
But he already understood.
Aomine's improvement wasn't about raw boost—it was a different kind of elevation entirely.
And Aomine himself had realized it too.
His eyes were sharper now.
More alive than ever.
Haizaki watched him closely.
Respect…
He acknowledged it.
Aomine wasn't just strong.
He was someone who could break through his own limits.
A true rival.
Haizaki received the ball and walked toward Tōō's half-court.
Facing Aomine, he spoke calmly.
"Aomine… I'll return the favor."
"Huh?"
Haizaki didn't explain.
He didn't need to.
You opened a door for me… then I'll open one for you too.
We're even now.
A faint electric flash flickered across his eyes.
His expression turned cold.
Serious.
Detached.
Then—
He moved.
WHOOSH!
He ignored Aomine's zone pressure completely.
And broke through.
Straight to the basket.
BOOM!
A powerful dunk.
Aomine's eyes widened.
Blood vessels tightened in his gaze.
He had seen it.
For the first time—
Haizaki's "man-ball."
A crushing, overwhelming state where everything felt inevitable.
Like resistance itself had no meaning.
Haizaki landed and exhaled.
Then exited the state immediately.
Back to normal.
Not because he couldn't sustain it—
But because he didn't need to.
Less stamina waste.
More control.
But more importantly—
This wasn't just about scoring.
It was a message.
Aomine caught the ball again.
He stared at Haizaki with uncertainty… confusion… and something deeper.
Curiosity.
Then slowly—
He smirked.
So that's it…