"Hello everyone! Welcome to the show, exclusively sponsored by the Akashi Group!"
"I'm your host, Sasha."
"And I'm Nini."
"Uh… and I'm Bobo."
In front of the camera, the director frantically waved hand signals at the trio.
Since the game had entered a timeout, the broadcast was in a dead zone. To avoid awkward silence for the viewers, the hosts had to improvise.
After a quick thought, Sasha decided it was better to toss the ball—metaphorically—to Bobo. She'd just play along and react when needed.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Sasa smiled at him and asked,
"So, Bobo, which team do you think has the advantage so far? And who do you predict will take the championship? Care to share your thoughts with us?"
The director flashed Sasha a big thumbs-up and gestured to the cameraman to zoom in on Bobo's face.
And as always, the man who could pour water on any fire performed flawlessly.
"Hmm… as of now, the score stands at 77–73, Kaijo leading. There are three minutes left in the third quarter. On paper, Kaijo's ahead, sure—but in high-level games like this, a single-digit difference is basically nothing! Why? Because everyone's that good! One clean three-pointer and the gap's gone—just like that winter cup semifinal a few years back…"
And off he went, rambling through a long-winded monologue that explained absolutely nothing about Rakuzan and Kaijo's current matchup, somehow looping through ten past tournaments and a few unrelated classics for good measure.
Sasa just nodded politely beside him, terrified that if she said a single wrong word, he'd spiral into another tangent filled with basketball jargon she didn't even understand.
Though Sasha clearly held some resentment toward her chatty partner, the director adored Bobo.
Probably because, well… a guy who could talk endlessly without offending anyone was the easiest way to fill airtime.
Glancing at the clock, the director noticed the timeout was nearly over and quickly waved his arms.
Director: Timeout's ending. Get back to the game.
Bobo: Got it.
Bobo nodded with the calm confidence of a man who'd mastered the art of nonsense.
"Okay then, let's shift our focus back to the court. We're now at the tail end of the third quarter…"
Kaijo is awarded three free throws!
Kota had drawn a foul on Takeshi, and with the added technical foul penalty, Kaijo would also gain possession afterward.Rakuzan's timeout had barely ended, and they were already on the defensive.
Akashi watched expressionlessly as Kota stepped to the free-throw line.At this point, regret was useless. The priority was simple — close the gap before the fourth quarter began.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Three clean shots — nothing but net. All three free throws taken by Kota.Moments like these tested focus and composure — two things he excelled at.
After all, his "Overthinker" state of mind gave him a level of calm most players could only dream of.
"This Interhigh season, among all players' free throw stats, Kota ranks second with a 94.6% success rate! You can't deny it — this guy's cool under pressure."
And for the record, the only player ahead of him? Midorima — with a perfect 100%. A walking sniper you just don't mess with.
With those three shots made, Kaijo still had the ball due to Takeshi's technical.
This time, Rakuzan played tighter defense — clearly not giving Kota another chance to draw a foul.
But Kota wasn't in a rush. Free throws were just a bonus for him; he wasn't the type to rely on the whistle to score.
After a few well-timed passes, Kise caught the ball on the right wing, about forty-five degrees from the rim — and took the shot.
Swish.
Nothing but net again.
The scoreboard now read 82–73!
In just one short stretch — Kota's three free throws and Kise's mid-range jumper — Kaijo had turned a four-point lead into nine!
Even if Rakuzan nailed back-to-back threes, they'd still need four full possessions to overtake them.
Clapping his hands, Kota called out,
"Stay focused! We've got the advantage!"
A nine-point lead was enough for him to control the tempo. As long as Akashi couldn't spark a momentum shift, that gap could hold till the end.
"So… what's your move, Akashi?"
Kota licked his lips, his gaze sharpening as Akashi approached.
If Kaijo kept this up, they could enter the final quarter with a double-digit cushion — and unless Akashi went full miracle mode, the outcome would be all but decided.
Of course, this was Kuroko no Basket. When facing the Captain of the Generation of Miracles, Kota had no doubt that Akashi would pull something crazy in desperation.
Inside Akashi's mind…
A grand golden palace shimmered in the dark.
At the center sat a figure on a throne.
By the door stood Akashi — wearing Rakuzan's No.4 jersey, breathing heavily. Despite his composed exterior, the pressure from facing this year's Kaijo — stronger than ever — weighed heavily on him.
"You're here" said the man on the throne lazily, resting his chin on his hand as if half asleep.
He too was Akashi — but dressed in a sharp suit, radiating the aura of a ruler.
"I can't handle this alone," said the one in the jersey quietly. "I need you."
To his teammates, Akashi always seemed invincible — like he could solve any problem with precision and control.
But now, even without Kise entering the Zone, Kaijo's offense was overwhelming. Rakuzan was starting to crack.
He needed help — even if that help came from his other self.
"Even if I took over, it wouldn't fix things instantly" the suited Akashi replied, eyes closed. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have pulled me out last year at the Interhigh."
But then his eyes snapped open, locking with his counterpart's — and his expression shifted in realization.
"Akashi… don't tell me—"
"Yeah," the player Akashi said, smirking faintly. "Let's both take the floor this time. It might be our only shot."
"What's he doing… stalling like this? That's supposed to be my move!"
Kota frowned as Akashi dribbled in place, showing no intention of attacking.
He glanced up at the scoreboard — Kaijo still leading by nine — and called out,
"Uh, Akashi? You gonna… y'know, play basketball anytime soon?"
"Your coach's about to lose it over there!"
Kota nodded toward Rakuzan's bench, where the usually calm coach was pacing back and forth with his arms crossed, clearly debating whether to call another timeout.
Just as Kota was about to crack another joke, Akashi finally spoke.
"It's been a while, Kota."
"Huh? What are you talking about? We literally just saw each other in the bathroom before the game—wait. You're…?"
Kota's eyes widened. The moment he met Akashi's gaze, he froze.
Akashi's once-crimson eyes now gleamed gold.
"A-Akashi?!"
Of course Kota recognized it — the red and gold eyes represented Akashi's two distinct personalities, and two entirely different playing styles.
Red-Eye Akashi specialized in orchestration — his passing and control unmatched, the "Team Zone" his unique ability.
Gold-Eye Akashi, on the other hand, thrived in isolation plays — faster, more aggressive, but unable to sync the team into Zone mode.
"So that's it… He's switching personas for one last gamble."
Kota's mind raced, piecing it together — but outwardly, he barked an order:
"Someone cover for me! I can't stop this guy alone!"
If Red-Eye Akashi had already pierced his defense, Gold-Eye Akashi would be twice as lethal.
And sure enough — one sharp crossover later, Akashi blew past Kota like a gust of wind.
"Damn it— you're so fast!"
Kota cursed under his breath and spun around, sprinting in pursuit. Takumi stepped up from the paint to help, giving Kota a moment to recover.
But Akashi was ready. Without hesitation, he dished the ball off to Takeshi.
Takumi, however, didn't panic. He'd anticipated the pass and hadn't fully committed to the double team. He turned quickly, cutting off Hirakawa's drive.
Crisis seemingly averted — Kota exhaled, glancing at Akashi again, about to say something—
BANG!
The sound of the rim shaking filled the arena.
Kota's head snapped up — just in time to see Takeshi hanging from the rim after a thunderous one-handed dunk.
In his eyes flickered that same pink lightning — faint, but unmistakably alive.