Whistle! The referee blew the whistle, and Yosen's possession began.
"Atsushi!" With a shout, Himuro dribbled past half court and immediately fed the ball to Murasakibara. With the aura Murasakibara was giving off right now, everyone on the court knew exactly where the spotlight was.
He grabbed the ball one-handed, squeezing it like a rubber toy. A flash of purple lightning streaked through his eyes as he unleashed his pressure straight at Takumi in front of him. A locked-in Murasakibara was genuinely terrifying. Even Takumi, normally calm and steady, felt a chill run through him. Still, he stood his ground in the paint, arms spread wide, protecting Kaijo's rim.
"I'm going to crush you." The words came out low and heavy. Then came the drive; no technique, no finesse. Just raw power.
What does it feel like when a train is barreling straight at you at full speed? At this moment, no one on the court was more qualified to answer that question than Takumi. Watching Murasakibara charge at him, a bead of cold sweat slid down Takumi's cheek. He planted his feet and leaned forward, trying with everything he had to absorb the impact.
The next instant, a massive force slammed into him. Takumi was shoved back three full steps, barely regaining awareness near the stanchion. When he looked up again, Murasakibara had already lowered his center of gravity, ready to detonate toward Kaijo's basket for a monstrous dunk.
And then, a slightly teasing voice sounded from behind him. "Hey. You seem pretty happy bullying my junior."
At some point, Kota had appeared behind Murasakibara. White lightning crackled wildly in his eyes, and both of his hands were already reaching for the ball.
Smack!
The sharp sound of a clean strip rang out. Murasakibara let out a muffled grunt, his balance broken mid-gather. It looked like his attack had been stopped. Kota narrowed his eyes, tracking Murasakibara's movement and preparing to crash the glass, and then he cursed under his breath.
Murasakibara ignored the steal attempt, forced himself upward despite being off balance, and jammed the ball home, grabbing the rim with both hands. Using the momentum, he stabilized his body in midair before dropping back down. For a split second, the arena went silent. Then, an explosion of cheers.
Murasakibara released the rim, landed heavily, and turned to glare at Kota. "Your show's over."
Kota smiled faintly, lips parting as if he was about to say something, but just as Murasakibara leaned in to listen, Kota suddenly planted his foot and vanished. Murasakibara froze. The next second, Himuro's voice rang out from the sideline.
"Fast break! Get back!"
...
Murasakibara's dunk was jaw-dropping, sure, but Kaijo hadn't come here for highlights. The moment Murasakibara was hanging on the rim, Yuki was already at the baseline, signaling Kaijo to sprint. The instant everyone was in position, he inbounded the ball, and Kaijo's Artillery Barrage ignited once again.
Just like the previous possessions, all five Kaijo players stormed into Yosen's half together. After a moment of man-to-man hesitation, someone was left open again. And coincidentally, it was Kota. Standing at the free-throw line, Kota scanned the floor. After confirming he had clean space, he gathered the ball and raised it to shoot.
Then, a sudden wave of unease surged through him. The hairs on his forearms stood straight up, screaming a warning.
Danger Sense
Even without seeing the source, Kota trusted this feeling completely. He aborted the shot instantly and kicked the ball to Yuki. At the exact moment the pass left his hand, a violent rush of wind tore past behind him. Seeing the shadow suddenly looming at his feet, Kota grinned.
"Wow, Murasakibara. Standing this close to me… what, are you secretly into me or something?"
The shadow shrank noticeably. Murasakibara's voice came from behind him; judging by the distance, he'd already backed off about three steps. "You're still as annoying as ever."
Wiping the sweat from his face, Murasakibara stared at Kota, clearly frustrated about missing the block. Kota turned back with a grin. As their eyes met, lightning danced wildly in both of their pupils. Meanwhile, Yuki and Himuro's one-on-one had already been decided. Using his explosive first step, Yuki blew past Himuro and laid the ball in cleanly.
The score settled at 69 to 56.
...
"You've got a second form or something?" Kota frowned slightly. "Hair tied up, full power unlocked? You Generation of Miracles guys really are all freaks."
Murasakibara stared at him with a look that clearly said, Do you hear yourself right now? "If we're talking about weird," he said slowly, scanning Kota up and down, "no one beats you. You look weak as hell, yet you've beaten Akashi so many times. I thought Kise was carrying you at first… but now? You're not bad."
Kota scratched his cheek and laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Once Murasakibara fully unleashed his physical power, the flow of the game shifted. A 250-pound truck moving at frightening speed began causing Kaijo serious trouble. The previously unstoppable Artillery Barrage lost efficiency. By the end of the third quarter, the gap had shrunk to seven points: 77 to 70.
On Kaijo's bench, Takeuchi sat beside Kota and leaned in.
"Kota… should we change our approach? Maybe we should put Tanaka back in?"
Kota took a sip of water and patted Takeuchi on the shoulder. "Coach, don't be so pessimistic. Who said it's not working?" He pointed toward Yosen's bench. Murasakibara sat there with a towel draped over his head, slumped forward.
"Araki looks really nice today—ow! Kota, what was that for?!"
Kota expressionlessly chopped the back of his head. "I told you to look at Murasakibara. He's fast for a center, but he's not a real guard. For a guy over 250 pounds, that effort deserves respect. But how long can he keep running like that?"
Kota gathered the team's attention. "Fourth quarter: same plan as the third. Same starters. Any objections?"
"No objections!" everyone answered in unison. Everyone except Takumi.
He said the words, but his eyes flickered strangely. Subtly, he shifted his right foot and pain shot through his body. That collision earlier had caused his ankle to twist. During the play, the adrenaline masked it, but now the swelling was unmistakable.
"It's pretty bad… Should I tell Kota?" Takumi frowned, stamping his foot lightly. A sharp, piercing pain exploded upward. "Hng!"
A rare flash of pain crossed his usually calm face. Kota noticed immediately and turned toward him.
"What's wrong, Takumi?"
Takumi straightened up. "Nothing. Just a mosquito."