Himuro Tatsuya's expression was grave.
He knew about Yuuto's calibration ability, but it required time.
Whether against Aomine Daiki, Kise Ryouta, Midorima Shintaro, or even Akashi Seijuro—it always took a while.
Right now, he and Yuuto had only exchanged a handful of possessions.
This shouldn't be happening!
He refused to accept it. Ball in hand, he attacked aggressively, pushing his tempo even higher.
He had to prove he wasn't inferior to anyone.
"Get out of my way!" Himuro roared, giving everything he had, using his entire body to deceive Yuuto's senses.
Fakes so convincing they were indistinguishable from reality. Every motion completed only halfway before the real strike emerged from an unexpected angle.
To the spectators, he looked like he was dancing—one moment left, the next moment right.
Real and fake, impossible to tell apart.
He was genuinely powerful. Every time the crowd thought he was about to explode forward, it turned out to be another fake.
People watched with bated breath, never expecting to witness this caliber of duel at a casual event like this.
But they weren't worried. They didn't believe Yuuto would lose.
Because he was Yuuto—Seihō's King, the strongest high schooler in the nation. He wouldn't lose to anyone.
Kagami Taiga had been amazed by his brother's improvement, but seeing the expressions of the spectators around him, he felt a pang of bitterness.
That's right. No matter how strong Himuro had become, he still couldn't be Yuuto's opponent.
Death's Embrace locked onto Himuro completely.
Yuuto's mind raced, analyzing his opponent's movement patterns while absorbing that playing style—the one that compressed the defender's reaction time to the absolute limit.
How is this possible?
He couldn't get through at all!
After just two possessions, Himuro discovered his drives had become impossibly difficult.
So this was what it felt like to face Yuuto?
He began to doubt himself. He'd believed he was no worse than the Generation of Miracles—after all, he'd grown up in America, basketball's holy land, facing challenges these people couldn't imagine.
Naturally, a sense of superiority had taken root in his heart.
Perhaps the Generation of Miracles were truly powerful, but they weren't necessarily stronger than him. His environment had been superior.
Now he saw that wasn't the case.
Atsushi's former teammates had ultimately fallen to Yuuto as well, but their battles had been intense—nothing like this.
On the court, Yuuto piled even more pressure onto Himuro.
He was rapidly dissecting his opponent's movements, laying them bare like an anatomy lesson—every organ visible.
Each insight fed back into himself, deepening his understanding of fake techniques.
Himuro was struggling. Despite his strength, he was completely passive against Yuuto.
"It's not over yet!"
Bang~
At that moment, Himuro erupted, throwing everything he had into the attack.
No more half-measures. He accelerated forward.
Real or fake—the player decides. That was the true terror of the fake.
One step forward, creating just enough space, and he rose immediately for the shot.
The Mirage Shot again.
This was his most trusted weapon now, one of his mentor's two ultimate techniques.
His shot was an illusion—real and unreal intertwined, nearly impossible to distinguish.
Himuro knew Yuuto could use this shot too, but he was confident his own Mirage Shot was superior.
Yuuto didn't even treat it as his primary offensive weapon.
But—
Just as Himuro was certain of success, he caught sight of Yuuto's lips curving upward. That confidence sent a tremor through his heart, filling him with dread.
Then—
As if reaching through the void itself, Yuuto's arm materialized directly in the ball's path.
He'd seen through the Mirage Shot!
SLAP!
A thunderous block, like a punch to Himuro's heart, shattering his icy composure.
But at that very moment—
On the other side of the ball, another massive hand appeared.
"Hm?"
Everyone froze, then looked closer to find someone had entered the court without anyone noticing.
This person was extraordinarily tall—definitely over two meters.
"Atsushi?"
"Murasakibara-kun?"
Himuro and Kuroko recognized the newcomer—their current/former teammate.
The Generation of Miracles' center, Murasakibara Atsushi.
"Why are you only showing up now, Atsushi?"
"Huh?"
Murasakibara grabbed the ball with one hand while apologizing casually. "Sorry, sorry. I got lost."
"But you can't blame me entirely. It's your fault for suddenly changing the meeting spot."
"I thought you came to Tokyo for something important, but it's just basketball again."
He tore open a bag of snacks and started munching without a care.
But careful observers would notice his gaze had never left Yuuto.
Playing basketball was fine, but against Yuuto...
Not good.
Murasakibara's thoughts drifted back to middle school—to those days when they, the Generation of Miracles, had been thoroughly crushed by Yuuto.
Everyone said he was simple, like a child who never grew up.
Little did they know his thoughts could run quite deep.
For instance, he'd noticed that Himuro was troubled by the issue of talent.
So, it would be best not to play against Yuuto.
"Who would've thought you actually care about people, Murasakibara."
Yuuto stood casually, smile unwavering as he watched the two of them.
Despite constantly threatening to crush people, Murasakibara Atsushi was surprisingly gentle.
Worried about hurting opponents, he subconsciously sealed away his own power—until the movie where he faced a truly equal opponent and finally unleashed everything.
"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about." Murasakibara tried to hide it. "I just came to remind Muro-chin that Coach Araki forbids us from playing unofficial matches."
"So, let's go."
Murasakibara didn't want to stay here a second longer. He urged Himuro to leave with him.
He'd never been enthusiastic about basketball to begin with—why would he want to play against someone he wasn't even sure he could beat?
Tiring and potentially unwinnable? No thanks.
"So you're going to run away?"
"Hah?"
"I said, are you really that afraid of me?" Yuuto stood with hands on his hips, watching the pair. "Just because I took down your old teammates, you've already decided you can't win, so you won't even try?"
"I'm not running away! And I'm not afraid of you!" Murasakibara's expression shifted instantly. He spun around, loudly denying everything.
"Then prove it to me. Actions, not words."
"Fine! Let's play!"
Then—
A short while later—
He appeared on the court in athletic gear.
"..."
The Seirin players were somewhat speechless.
"Kuroko, is he really part of the Generation of Miracles? He seems so..."
Bizarre. Completely different from the other geniuses.
What were the other prodigies like?
Yuuto and Akashi were both supremely domineering types. Aomine was wild and untamed. Midorima was calm to the point of being intimidating. Even Kise was deadly serious when he got going.
Only this Murasakibara...
"Outside of basketball, he's not really capable of much."
"Not capable in what way?"
"Every way, really. It's rare, but occasionally you get people like this—extraordinarily talented in one area, but missing something in everything else."
Like Balotelli in the football world.
Murasakibara was clearly that type of player. World-class below the neck.
"A natural airhead?!"
"More or less."
...
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