"Tanaka! Are you watching game footage again? Whose highlights are they this time?"
"Huh? Who is this guy? Genta Takeuchi? Is he a former national team player too? I don't really recognize him..."
...
A long-sealed memory stirred. Confusion flickered across Tanaka's face, but it was instantly cut off by the referee's whistle.
"Beep!"
Kaijo Ball.
Kota dribbled one-handed, his other arm raised high as he flashed a 6 signal. At first glance, it looked like a classic Horns set. But the moment his arm dropped, he casually brushed his earlobe. That subtle motion was one of Kaijo's most hidden signals. Whenever Kaijo was in trouble, Kota would fake a team play call, and once he touched his ear, it meant only one thing: this possession is mine.
Everyone on Kaijo caught it instantly. They began running textbook cuts, selling the play perfectly while secretly clearing space for an isolation. As expected, just as Yosen's defense was drawn away by the movement, Kota rose up and pulled a three off the dribble.
Nothing but net.
The lead stretched back to eight points. It was 86 to 78 with 7:00 remaining. Kaijo leads.
"Lock in on defense!" Kota barked and sprinted back. At this stage, every possession was life or death. One make or one miss could decide the championship. "Tanaka, protect the paint!"
Yosen surged forward. With Takumi out, their offensive focus had clearly shifted: they were attacking Kaijo's interior relentlessly. A Yosen player used a screen-and-roll, slipped into the lane, and floated the ball up. But under Tanaka's pressure, the shot rimmed out. Yuki secured the rebound.
"Nice stop, Tanaka."
As he ran back on offense, Tanaka's mind drifted.
...
"Have you guys seen Kagetora's highlight reels? They're insane!"
"Yeah! He's basically a national hero! Who wouldn't like Kagetora, right? Isn't that right, Tanaka?"
Tanaka had scratched his head, embarrassed. "Actually... I like Takeuchi more. Don't you think, even though he's not flashy, he helps the team so much? Grinding possession by possession, building advantages little by little... That's cool, isn't it?"
Tanaka clenched his fists, eyes shining. If I ever get the chance, I want to meet Takeuchi.
But his friends didn't share the enthusiasm.
"Takeuchi? Who?"
"Was he even on the national team?"
"Tanaka's weird. Doesn't like Kagetora, likes some role player."
"Weird... weird... weird..."
...
"Tanaka! What the hell are you spacing out for?!" Kota's shout snapped him back to reality. The ball was already flying toward him. Tanaka hurriedly hugged it to his chest and passed it to Yuki. Kaijo's offense stayed orderly. Their shots kept falling.
But after a short breather, Yosen's ace, Murasakibara, looked revitalized. This time, Yosen didn't bother with ball movement. They fed the ball straight to Murasakibara. Tanaka finally faced the moment he feared: alone against him.
Two steps away stood a towering figure, eyes crackling like lightning, less a center and more a walking natural disaster. Panic crept onto Tanaka's face.
"No way... there's no way I can stop someone like this..."
Kota tried to slide into the paint for help defense, but Yosen's players cut him off, forming a wall. Tanaka even felt someone tug lightly at Kota's jersey. That one or two seconds was all Murasakibara needed. He powered forward, just like in the first quarter, and slammed into Tanaka. At the moment of contact, Tanaka was overwhelmed, stumbling backward.
"...Yeah. Figures." With a sigh, he could only watch as Murasakibara rose for a dunk. Even exhausted, I still can't stop him. Someone like me dreaming of becoming Takeuchi... that's asking too much.
Takumi's injury was devastating. Kaijo's paint now felt less like a defense and more like an open invitation. Kota and Yuki kept scoring, but efficiency favored Yosen.
104 to 104. Tie game.
At the inbound, Kota leaned forward, hands on his knees, calculating. A shot clock was 24 seconds, but no possession ever used it perfectly. The best play was to shoot around 15 seconds. No matter what happened, they'd still have time for the final possession.
...
Kota called for the ball, dribbled beyond the arc for seven or eight seconds, then stepped back one full stride beyond the three-point line and fired. This time, luck didn't smile on Kaijo. Even with Fourth Quarter King and Zone active, no shot was guaranteed. The ball clanged off the rim.
Yosen rebound.
Takeuchi slammed his arm down in frustration. Kaijo fans groaned in unison. On Yosen's bench, Araki jumped up, hands cupped around her mouth.
"Score this!"
Yosen sprinted forward, looking for a fast break, but Kaijo's recovery was too quick. They handed the ball to their ace. Once again, Murasakibara caught it in the paint. Kota's face changed instantly. He bolted toward the lane, only to be blocked again. Someone even tugged his jersey.
That tiny delay was fatal. Murasakibara powered into Tanaka. Tanaka fought back desperately, but it wasn't enough. Yosen scores. With 20 seconds left, Yosen took the lead for the first time all game.
106 to 104. Yosen ahead.
...
The arena exploded. Yosen fans leapt to their feet.
"Stop them! One more stop! The championship is ours!"
Himuro, gasping for breath, directed the defense, eyes locked on Kaijo's half. Over there, Tanaka was apologizing nonstop.
"I'm sorry, everyone... I really am... I couldn't stop him..."
Kota had heard enough. He slapped a hand over Tanaka's mouth and whispered:
"Listen. Last play, we're shooting a three. If it goes in, we celebrate. If it doesn't, I want you to get the offensive rebound."
Tanaka froze, waving his hands, but Kota covered his mouth again.
"Shut up. You listen, then you say 'yes.' Got it?" Kota's glare was terrifying.
Tanaka nodded frantically. "Yes! Yes!"
"Good boy." Kota snapped his fingers.
...
Kota brought the ball across half court. This time, he passed to Yuki. Their eyes met. Yuki understood. The final shot, the one that could change Kaijo's fate, was his.
My heart's pounding... Yuki narrowed his eyes. Himuro. Scoreboard. 15 seconds remaining.
If he rushed it, Yosen could hold for the final shot. He had to take it late, and he had to make it. Pressure crashed down on him. So this is what it feels like, carrying the team. Kise-senpai lied to me... this feels awful.
Sweat trickled into his eyes. He didn't dare wipe it. One mistake and Kaijo's entire summer was over. The arena went silent.
Tick. Tick.
With 6 seconds left, Yuki moved. One-hand dribble. Textbook crossover. He drove left. As Himuro retreated, Yuki planted hard with his right foot and snapped back behind the arc. Yes. At this moment, his thinking aligned perfectly with Kota's. With Takumi's condition unknown, settling for two and overtime was just slow suicide.
Yuki rose. Jump shot. At that instant, Himuro recovered and lunged forward, arms spread wide.
"Don't even think about it!"
In midair, Yuki ignored him. Eyes locked on the rim. Release. The ball traced a beautiful arc, every heartbeat in the arena tied to it.
DUANG!
It hit the back iron and bounced high. Cheers and gasps erupted simultaneously. Takeuchi's face fell. Araki's lit up with joy. Himuro turned to Kota with a smile.
"Too bad. If your center hadn't gotten hurt, you wouldn't be relying on a freshman."
He expected sadness, or at least forced bravado. Instead, Kota watched the ball calmly. "You know something, Himuro? The amazing thing about kids is that they say they've given up, but inside, they're still holding onto one last breath."
Himuro froze.
Beep beep beep! He spun around. The game isn't over?!
3 seconds left.
The ball came down right where Murasakibara stood. Unlike Himuro, who'd already celebrated, Murasakibara bent his knees, eyes locked on the ball, ready to jump. Then, someone slammed into his back. Tanaka.
He was muttering "no way," but his eyes burned upward. Kota's words echoed in his mind. Feeling the pressure, Murasakibara's eyes widened. The guy he'd crushed all game was boxing him out?!
"You wanna die, kid?!" Murasakibara roared, exploding upward.
Behind him, Tanaka jumped awkwardly but with everything he had. Both arms stretched toward the ball. Normally, this rebound wouldn't even be a contest. But after battling Takumi, and now Tanaka, Murasakibara was finally slowing.
Tanaka got there first.
The arena went dead silent. Takeuchi froze, tears still on his face. "Yes! That's it, Tanaka!"
But before anyone could celebrate, Murasakibara snapped. Still in midair, he swatted violently at the ball. Tanaka couldn't secure it. The ball flew out of bounds, and the clock showed 2 seconds remaining.