"No, it's nothing. Just a mosquito earlier."
Kota glanced at Takumi but didn't press further. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the scoreboard.
"Final quarter… a seven-point lead. That's enough."
Beep!
A long, sharp whistle echoed through the arena, signaling the start of the final battle between Yosen and Kaijo. After the short timeout, the pressure radiating from Murasakibara showed no signs of fading. Purple lightning still crackled violently in his eyes, making him look downright terrifying.
But Kota could tell at a glance that Murasakibara's body condition wasn't as fearsome as his appearance suggested. Three full quarters of high-tempo play, plus sprinting back and forth while dragging a body well over 250 pounds — if nothing unexpected happened, Murasakibara wouldn't be able to keep dealing massive damage on offense for long.
That said, Kaijo wasn't exactly fresh either. They had been running the Run-and-Gun for over an entire quarter. Even with Kota occasionally slipping into his infamous hands-on-knees defense to recover a bit of stamina, he was already feeling the strain, let alone the rest of the team.
"So in the end…" Kota chuckled softly, "it still comes down to me." With that, he activated Fourth Quarter King, calmly observing Yosen's offense.
...
Yosen had won the opening tip of the fourth and retained first possession. After a brief exchange with Murasakibara, Himuro called for the ball and motioned for the floor to be cleared on the wing. In an instant, space opened up. Only Himuro and Yuki remained, standing opposite each other.
"Haa…" Himuro let out a slow breath as he looked at Yuki, a trace of admiration surfacing in his eyes. "For a second-year to reach this level… that's impressive. Kota's probably grooming you as Kaijo's next ace, right? I heard you used to play point guard."
Yuki paused for a moment, then replied politely, "Thank you. I did play point guard before. I don't know what Kota-senpai is planning, but he's always helped me improve in every way." As he spoke, Yuki subtly adjusted his defensive stance, never lowering his guard.
"Man, kids these days," Himuro muttered. "Every one of them is a monster. It's exhausting." Lowering his center of gravity, Himuro's eyes flicked to Yuki's feet. He feinted, spun toward Yuki's lead foot, and the instant Yuki turned to stay in front of him, Himuro stopped dead.
Pull-up jumper.
Swish.
Yosen took two points. As the referee's whistle sounded, Himuro beckoned to Yuki with a provocative grin. Himuro knew Murasakibara's stamina was nearly depleted. If Yosen wanted to win, someone had to hold the line.
Unfortunately for Himuro, Yuki was part of the ten percent of players immune to trash talk.
The Two-Way Trap
Kaijo regained possession. Considering the team's dwindling stamina, Kota abandoned the Run-and-Gun and crossed half court at a steady pace. His gaze lingered briefly on Yuki. Seeing no reaction to Himuro's provocation, Kota nodded in satisfaction. Just as I thought. A well-behaved ace is the best kind.
Kota focused on his defender. A quick shot fake sent the man airborne. Seizing the opening, Kota exploded forward, driving straight into Yosen's paint.
"Something's off… that was too easy."
He pushed inside, his eyes constantly surveying the floor. Sure enough, Murasakibara rotated over immediately. From behind, the man who'd been blown by on the fake, Cho, closed in fast.
"So it really was bait." Kota smiled. Facing the two-on-one, he didn't panic. Instead, he leapt straight toward Murasakibara, clutching the ball with both hands as if volunteering to get swatted. The sight made Murasakibara's pupils shrink. He quickly pulled his arms back, knowing how dangerous Kota was at drawing fouls.
But Murasakibara didn't realize that this was a two-way trap. If Murasakibara went hard, Kota would sell the contact and take the foul. If he backed off, Kota wouldn't show mercy. Midair, Kota switched grips, hooking the ball with one hand and slipping it under Murasakibara's arm, flicking it softly toward the rim.
The ball bounced around the iron once, twice, and dropped in. "Getting sloppy, Murasakibara?" Kota smirked, wagging a finger at him.
...
Murasakibara was not part of the ten percent immune to provocation. Veins bulged across his forehead. "Give me the ball!" With a furious roar, he demanded possession and charged into Kaijo's paint like a runaway truck.
But in Kota's eyes, Murasakibara's speed had visibly dropped. The overwhelming pressure was fading. Now's the chance! Kota slipped behind Murasakibara, glancing at Takumi waiting under the basket. If Takumi could slow him down even a little, Kota could strip the ball from behind.
Everything unfolded as planned, but then the unexpected happened. Takumi, who had previously managed to hold his ground, suddenly looked fragile. Instead of stopping Murasakibara, Takumi collapsed backward, landing hard on the floor. Kaijo's basket was left completely exposed.
Two-handed dunk! The gap shrank to five points.
"I'm sorry… I couldn't stop him…" Takumi's voice was flat, filled with guilt. Kota frowned, staring at him. Yuki moved to help Takumi up, but Kota stopped him.
"Kota-senpai?"
Instead of answering, Kota crouched in front of Takumi. "Right foot. Show me."
Takumi stiffened. "Sorry, Kota-senpai. Next play, I'll definitely stop Murasakibara—"
"Right. Foot." Kota cut him off. After a silence, Takumi slowly extended his foot. Kota pressed lightly against the ankle. Severe swelling.
"Third quarter," Takumi admitted.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I can play until the end."
"No. You can't." Kota stood up and walked straight to the referee. "Kaijo requests a timeout."
...
The court fell silent. Takeuchi's expression darkened. An injury now could cost them the championship.
"Let me go! Coach! Kota-senpai! I can still play!" Takumi kept shouting, but Kota waved his hand calmly. "Two people, take him to the locker room. Get him checked."
As Takumi was carried off, the Kaijo bench fell into a rare silence. Takeuchi turned to Kota. "What do we do now?" With Takumi out, Kaijo's inside presence was gone.
Kota smiled and slung an arm around Tanaka's neck. "Now… it's your turn."
Tanaka blinked, pointing at himself. "Me?"
"Who else is left to play center? Tanaka, have you ever heard this saying? 'Entrusted in defeat, commanded in crisis.' Right now, you're the only choice."
Tanaka was clearly moved, but his confidence wavered. "But… my ability… I really can't stop that giant." He recalled Murasakibara charging at him in the first quarter and shuddered.
Just then, the timeout ended. Kota yanked Tanaka to his feet and shouted, "Let's go, boys! Time to take the championship trophy home! Kaijo! Champions!!"
Amid the thunderous chants, Tanaka followed behind Kota.
"I'm really… standing on this kind of stage?"