Swish!
A crisp, clean sound echoed as the net rippled. Murasakibara, who arrived a split second too late, watched Kota calmly knock down the mid-range jumper from the free-throw line. He clicked his tongue.
"Lucky shot."
Hearing that, Kota turned his head and looked at Murasakibara deeply before asking,
"You really think me getting an open look from there was just luck?"
"Huh? If it's not luck, then what is it?" Murasakibara frowned, clearly annoyed. "You don't seriously think we're going to give you that kind of shot every possession, do you?"
Kota shook his head slightly and smiled. "Well… who knows?" With that, he didn't bother saying anything else. He simply turned around and jogged back to Kaijo's half, preparing for Yosen's next offense.
To be fair, even though Tanaka wasn't anything special skill-wise, his two-meter-plus height still had some presence in Kaijo's paint. Once he was subbed out, Yosen's attacks on the interior noticeably increased. After Murasakibara bulldozed through the defense again and slammed the ball home, Himuro immediately shouted, "Get back! Cut off the passing lanes!"
He'd caught on. Kaijo's repeated fast breaks were no coincidence. If nothing unexpected happens, the moment the ball hits the floor… they'll launch another one.
Himuro retreated while keeping his eyes locked on Kota. Sure enough, the instant Kota received the inbound, he kicked his speed into overdrive and charged straight toward Yosen's half. Behind him, the other four Kaijo players surged forward in unison. The same fast-break formation as the previous possession was about to unfold again.
This time, however, Yosen reacted faster. Having learned their lesson, they hustled back hard. By the time Kaijo crossed half court, everyone had matched up properly. Himuro let out a small sigh of relief and glanced at Kota. This time… you won't have an opening.
But that single glance sent a chill straight down his spine. Kota was standing inside the paint, smiling casually. And around him, there was no one.
"What? Where's the defender on Kota?!"
Himuro's expression twisted between shock and anger as he hurriedly scanned the court. Cho was matched up with Shimamura. Yosen's small forward was on Fukuhara. The power forward was planted firmly in front of Takumi. And Yuki was being guarded by Himuro himself.
In an instant, Himuro's pupils shrank. He snapped his gaze toward midcourt. Murasakibara was still there, legs pumping desperately as he sprinted back toward Yosen's half. Panic was written all over his face.
Swish!
Another clean sound. Yuki dished the assist to Kota, perfectly recreating the previous possession. It was a Kaijo score so effortless it almost looked like a joke. Murasakibara finally reached the three-point line, but it was far too late. He bent over, hands on his knees, staring at Kota in disbelief.
"Why…?"
Hearing the question, Kota turned around, genuinely surprised. "Isn't it obvious?" He smiled faintly. "You're too slow, Murasakibara."
...
Yosen called a timeout. Araki sat on the bench with her arms crossed and one leg casually over the other. Her right hand unconsciously clenched her arm, and cold sweat slid down her face. Anyone could tell it now: Yosen was standing on the edge of a cliff. The score was 67 to 54.
In the early stages of the third quarter, Kaijo had finally revealed their Run-and-Gun to the world, and what followed was Yosen's collapse. At that very moment, Rakuzan's coach, Shirogane, sat at home watching the live broadcast, his expression heavy.
"Substitute out the center… maintain nonstop five-man fast breaks… prevent the opposing center from getting back in time, creating constant five-on-four advantages…" His face twitched as he sighed. "What a twisted strategy… but damn, it's vicious."
"Um… should we maybe consider changing the starting lineup?" On Yosen's bench, Cho hesitated for a long time before finally speaking up. "I mean… look at Kaijo. They benched their center, and their rebounding and fast breaks are still working really well. So I was thinking—"
The further he spoke, the quieter his voice became. One by one, Yosen's players turned their eyes toward him. Murasakibara, who had been silent with his head lowered, slowly looked up. The calm, indifferent look he usually wore now carried a faint trace of anger.
"So… you're saying I should be benched?" His voice was low and heavy, his eyes locked onto Cho as if he might tear him apart.
"N-no! That's not what I meant!" Cho waved his hands frantically, but Murasakibara had already lowered his head again.
"Whatever. I'm tired of this," his lazy voice rang out. "If you think benching me will help us win, then go ahead and bench me." Because his head was down, no one could see his expression.
"Atsushi…" Himuro placed a worried hand on his shoulder, then shot Cho a sharp glare.
...
As the silence deepened, Araki finally spoke. "Murasakibara… can't come off the court." She licked the corner of her lips, mimicking someone's habit, and began to analyze calmly. "So far, Murasakibara's performance has been poor. On defense, he can't keep up. On offense, he hasn't stood out either…"
Murasakibara's body trembled visibly. Clearly, he wasn't as indifferent as he pretended to be.
"But—" Araki's tone hardened. She turned toward Kaijo's bench, grinding her teeth. "That's exactly what Kaijo wants us to see. They benched their only center, sped up the game, and deliberately made their interior look defenseless. So whether it's Murasakibara or anyone else, once you get into the paint, they only apply token pressure."
Her brows knit tightly as she scanned the team. "If we really bench Murasakibara, we'll fall straight into their trap. At that point, we won't even have an inside advantage anymore."
And Murasakibara would lose motivation because we didn't trust him. If that happens… the game is already over. Araki didn't say those words out loud, but her conclusion matched Kota's plan almost perfectly.
Himuro clenched his fist. "Coach is right. I don't know how many people could come up with something this nasty, but one of them is definitely Kota. He's the kind of guy who'll use any method possible, as long as it doesn't cross the moral line."
With the problem finally identified, the tension on Yosen's bench eased. Even Murasakibara straightened up, his eyes returning to Araki. "Coach… what do we do?"
Araki glanced at the scoreboard, calculated the remaining time, then looked Murasakibara straight in the eye. "We… do nothing."
...
The timeout ended and both teams returned to the court. Kota walked back at an unhurried pace, hands on his hips. When he saw that Yosen's starting lineup was unchanged, his gaze sharpened slightly.
Didn't fall for it? Looks like Araki is no amateur either.
Though that was what he thought, his outward attitude remained playful. He strolled up beside Murasakibara with a teasing grin. "Hey, Murasakibara. Running suicides with us all game, aren't you tired? Dragging around that heavy body must be rough."
He expected Murasakibara to explode. Instead, the giant calmly stared at the rim as if he hadn't heard a word. Murasakibara was replaying Araki's words in his mind: You're not too slow to keep up with Kaijo… you just haven't gotten serious yet. You can run faster, Murasakibara.
"I can run faster?" he murmured to himself.
He let his hair fall loose, then retied it into his familiar samurai-style knot. As the hair tie tightened, he exhaled a long breath. In the next instant, an invisible pressure exploded outward from him. Even Kota, who had just turned away, felt his heart jolt.
Kota spun around. Murasakibara was still standing there, unmoving, but within his pupils, two flashes of purple lightning flickered.
"I'll run faster." He stepped in front of Kota, looking down at him from above. "Come on. Round two."