For the first time all day—
Hakuro hesitated.
It wasn't obvious. Not to casual eyes. Not on the scoreboard.
But the players on the court felt it.
The Pace of Kings had slowed the game to a suffocating crawl, every possession measured, every step calculated. Ryu still controlled the tempo, red aura pulsing like a steady heartbeat—but something had changed.
Seiryō wasn't scrambling anymore.
They were breathing together.
Shinji brought the ball up calmly, dribbling with his head up, eyes scanning the court instead of locking onto defenders. Yuuto ran beside him, not demanding the ball, not forcing movement—just existing in the right spaces.
Marcus noticed it immediately.
This feels different.
Hakuro set their defense.
Hiroto shaded Marcus on the wing, gold aura tight and sharp. Ren hovered near the paint. Minato tracked Shinji. Ryu stood just above the free-throw line, watching everything.
Too many eyes.
Too much pressure.
Normally, this is where Seiryō would tighten up.
