"You're saying I can't beat Taiga?"
Himuro Tatsuya wasn't an irrational player—but when it came to Kagami Taiga, rationality went out the window.
"I know what you're trying to do. You want to use me to perfect your game. Fine—I'll play along!"
Yuuto's intentions were transparent. Everyone here wasn't stupid.
His head coach, Araki Masako, forbade players from unofficial matches—especially not against other schools' starters.
But Himuro had his own agenda. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to test his current strength.
Most importantly—
If he could defeat Yuuto, he could still be Kagami's older brother.
Taking the inbound pass from a teammate, his entire demeanor shifted in an instant. Like his surname suggested, he became ice-cold—a frozen domain unto himself.
Everyone could clearly see that Himuro's movement frequency had increased yet again.
Every part of his body—down to the cellular level—worked in concert to deceive his opponent.
Rightward acceleration into a mid-drive snap-back directional change, creating speed comparable to Aomine's blur-fast drives.
No matter how clearly you tracked his movements, his feints could throw you off. The reaction window was simply too short.
Unless you possessed eyes like Akashi's that could see through everything.
"He can go even faster!"
"I'm starting to think he's not below the Generation of Miracles at all."
"Is that even possible? Could there really be someone else at their level this year?"
Spectators murmured in amazement. Himuro's display was genuinely on par with the Generation of Miracles.
"I heard he's a transfer student who grew up in America, immersed in their basketball culture since childhood."
"Ah, that explains it. No wonder he can go toe-to-toe with Yuuto."
The crowd discussed among themselves.
None of this reached Himuro's ears. Only the enemy before him existed.
Utterly different from every opponent he'd faced before—defense without a single crack, not a single opening.
If there are no gaps, I'll create them.
He growled internally. His lean frame continued its rhythmic undulations.
Not the chaotic unpredictability of Aomine's movements—quite the opposite. There was a silky, flowing quality that almost made you wonder if staying still might actually be the correct response.
Yuuto's eyes gleamed like polished black gems.
His feet never stopped shuffling, making micro-adjustments. Each tiny movement precisely cut off his opponent's path.
Bang—
Himuro retreated half a step. Just as observers thought he was pulling up for a shot, he suddenly accelerated again past Yuuto's side.
"Very nice. Keep it coming." Yuuto's lips curved into a grin.
His brain had already kicked into gear, rapidly analyzing this opponent's style.
Gradually, he grew more and more accustomed to Himuro's fakes, responding with increasing ease—nearly immune to the deception.
"At this rate, Himuro's fakes will soon be completely useless against him."
Kiyoshi Teppei could see that Yuuto was rapidly adapting to Kagami's brother's game.
He was using Himuro to perfect his own basketball. To evolve further.
Players like this were terrifying. No wonder he could topple even the Generation of Miracles.
Yuuto was in no rush, simply enjoying the matchup against Himuro.
But the shot clock wouldn't wait.
Himuro's body swayed left and right, each motion committing halfway before shifting again.
This style of maximally compressing the defender's reaction time was lethal to most players.
Even Tsugawa Tomoki couldn't handle it.
But Yuuto wasn't Tsugawa Tomoki.
Slap!
Time nearly expired. Himuro had no choice but to plant his left foot quickly, gather the ball, and rise.
The Mirage Shot again—ethereal as a desert mirage, seemingly unreal yet undeniably present.
Swish!
The ball went in. Himuro scored on Yuuto for the second time.
Real and fake intertwined—that was the Mirage Shot's true terror.
You could release immediately the first time, or pump-fake and shoot on the second motion. Complete control rested with the shooter.
"What's going on? Doesn't Yuuto know this shot inside and out?" Sora wrinkled her cute nose in confusion.
"The problem is the reaction window." Kuroko's insight was sharp.
Yuuto was intimately familiar with the Mirage Shot.
But Himuro's fakes compressed Yuuto's reaction time to the extreme—that was where the Mirage Shot's true danger lay.
"But what about Yuuto's eyes..."
"That's exactly the issue. From start to finish, he hasn't used his eyes at all."
Those eyes that could see death points—the ones that created irreversible outcomes.
A demonic pair of eyes, capable of rivaling even Akashi's Emperor Eye.
Himuro had noticed this too. His opponent's composure infuriated him.
He felt disrespected—but Yuuto absolutely had the credentials to disrespect him.
Transition to offense. Yuuto had the ball against Himuro.
Triple threat, then one step toward Himuro's right—but mid-acceleration, he suddenly snapped the ball back to the opposite direction.
"That's my..." Himuro's eyes went wide.
It was like watching himself in a mirror.
Everyone's expressions shifted to shock. The scene immediately reminded them of Kaijō's ace Kise Ryouta and his Perfect Copy.
"Could that be... imitation?"
"No. He can probably just... do it."
"The key to effective fakes is baiting the defender into losing balance or making wrong reads. To maximize fakes, a player needs exceptional fundamentals. And fundamentals..."
"In that department, nobody surpasses Yuuto!"
This last declaration came from Kagami.
When it came to fundamental technique, Yuuto was the best he'd ever seen. Bar none.
"Exactly. Throughout the nationals, Yuuto's drives constantly incorporated realistic fakes."
Kiyoshi recalled Yuuto's tournament performances—countless instances of defenders being completely fooled.
"As long as he masters the technical principles, replicating similar movements isn't difficult for him."
"And the same moves become even more devastating in his hands."
Everyone understood why. Because Yuuto possessed elite-tier wild instincts.
As they spoke, Yuuto's figure suddenly split in two, simultaneously passing by both sides of Himuro.
"This..." Himuro stood frozen, unable to discern which was real and which was fake.
As someone who specialized in defeating opponents with fakes, he'd just been completely fooled and left directionally challenged.
But this wasn't Yuuto having quickly replicated his style. He could beat Himuro primarily because his abilities were simply superior.
"Harder than I expected." Yuuto's brain shifted into intensive processing mode.
Himuro's basketball could be absorbed further.
If he could integrate these fakes into his maximum-speed drives, he'd compress opponents' reaction windows even further—making his penetration even more unstoppable.
"But I'll get there."
His pupils refocused. This signified his understanding of this technique had deepened yet again.
"This bastard!"
Himuro gritted his teeth, expression ugly.
...
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