Himuro hid it well—at least most of Yōsen couldn't tell.
Murasakibara was the exception.
After spending so much time together, he'd gradually sensed Himuro's yearning.
In practice. During games.
Whenever he completed a defensive stop or scored, there would be a flash of something in the way Himuro looked at him—an imperceptible envy.
Himuro had pushed himself to the absolute limit of what he could achieve.
Within the constraints of his physical gifts, he'd maximized every weapon.
But Yuuto wasn't someone Muro-chin could defeat. That monster had long transcended the realm of ordinary players.
Murasakibara raised his hand to call for the ball, but after Himuro regained possession, he immediately engaged Yuuto in combat, ignoring the request.
This wasn't like him at all. Was it because of Kagami?
Murasakibara knew Himuro's story.
He'd told the team the day he joined.
Such a pain. Murasakibara couldn't understand it at all. If you can't beat someone, just don't play?
Meanwhile—
Ten seconds of shot clock had elapsed. Throughout, Himuro couldn't break through Yuuto's defense.
He tried everything—real moves, fake moves.
But whether real or fake, Yuuto saw through them all. Those eyes seemed capable of reading every pattern like it was laid bare before him.
"At this rate, Yuuto will become completely immune to fakes." The Seirin players sighed.
Already the strongest in the nation, and still improving.
A player like this was terrifying.
Himuro was in deep trouble. His expression had never been this grave. His once-invincible fakes were no longer working.
"How is he doing this?" Himuro's usual icy demeanor was cracking.
He gave everything he had, trying to carve a path forward.
Flowing movements, seamless transitions—real within fake, fake within real.
Yet Yuuto was like a shackle binding him, imprisoning him, impossible to escape.
Yuuto's brain churned at maximum speed, performing the deepest level of analysis—practically dissecting Himuro.
And every insight immediately fed back into himself, elevating both his offense and defense.
He was absorbing his opponent's strengths to reinforce himself.
The spectators' expressions said of course. Even giving off a Generation of Miracles vibe wasn't enough. Himuro was completely frozen—extremely desperate.
Finally—
With just four seconds left on the shot clock, Himuro had to move whether he wanted to or not.
But—
Almost simultaneously, the instant Himuro prepared to force his way through, Yuuto's arm swept through the darkening world.
SLAP!
Himuro was stripped again. He saw it coming but was powerless to stop it.
Kagami watched from the sidelines, unable to say a word. The impact was too great.
His record against his brother was currently 49-49.
Which meant if he faced Yuuto, the result wouldn't be any better.
His opponent's rate of improvement was too fast.
Did he really have a chance to catch up?
Kagami felt the frustration, his heart wavering.
He'd made Yuuto his ultimate goal, but now it seemed impossibly distant.
On the court—
This time Yuuto didn't return possession to his opponent. He accelerated forward, secured the ball, then transformed into a streak of light heading for the other basket.
Almost simultaneously—
Just as Himuro gritted his teeth, expression ugly, preparing to chase—a purple blur shot past him.
"Atsushi?!" He called out instinctively, but Murasakibara had already given chase.
His speed was jaw-dropping. Athletic ability completely at odds with his body.
Even Yuuto was being tracked.
"So fast!"
"Is this real?"
The court erupted in shock. This was even more impactful than watching Yuuto demolish Himuro.
A player over two meters tall, weighing nearly 100 kilograms, possessed this kind of agility?
This had to be a joke!
"So this is the Generation of Miracles' center?!"
Monstrous beyond belief.
Yuuto didn't need to turn around to sense the pursuer.
He didn't slow down, but Murasakibara still managed to get in front of him at the last moment, spreading his arms near the free-throw line to block his path.
"Nice look in your eyes. You seem fired up. Is it because of Himuro?"
Yuuto stopped, meeting Murasakibara's gaze directly.
In the original story, during Seirin's battle against Yōsen, Murasakibara had only truly erupted after taking a hit from Kagami's Zone-enhanced play, finally entering the Zone himself.
He was actually the same type of player as Kagami.
He didn't care what happened to himself, but he couldn't let the people close to him be bullied...
"I don't know what you're talking about. I just don't want to lose."
If he was going to play, he was going to win.
That was Murasakibara's philosophy. It had nothing to do with Muro-chin or anyone else.
"Hmph. Like a little kid."
"I'm not a little kid!"
"You're not? Then who is?"
Without another word, Yuuto accelerated and drove forward.
The same technique—movements completed halfway before snapping back, just like Himuro's fakes.
But compared to a few possessions ago, his motions were even sharper, because his analysis of Himuro was nearly complete.
Under Himuro's watchful gaze, Yuuto split into two, attacking from both sides simultaneously.
But—
Murasakibara's reaction was absurdly fast. He instantly recognized which was real and which was fake, spinning to pursue.
"That's ridiculous!"
Even Yuuto marveled at Murasakibara's reaction speed. That kind of lateral coverage from the restricted area nearly reached the three-point line.
He couldn't help but think of Hakeem Olajuwon—one of the four great centers of the 90s.
Among those four, perhaps in all of NBA history, Olajuwon had one of the fastest reaction times for a center.
He'd played soccer as a child, and volleyball too. Those sports demanded exceptional reactions, which forged Olajuwon's monstrous defensive range.
Coverage spanning from the paint to the three-point line, combined with a center's strength and a guard's agility. Absurdly versatile.
There was a reason Olajuwon was selected ahead of Jordan as the number one pick.
Like the ill-fated Greg Oden—without hindsight, you'd pick him first a hundred times out of a hundred.
As for Murasakibara—
He gave Yuuto the impression of an unpolished Olajuwon.
Hum!
Golden light erupted from Yuuto's body. He quickly entered his heightened state, because only this could break through Murasakibara's absolute defense.
But then—
Pitter-patter~
The heavens weren't cooperating. Just as Yuuto was elevating his state further, rain began falling from the sky.
The rain intensified from light to heavy, instantly soaking the entire court.
"Tch..."
"Hah..."
Yuuto and Murasakibara stopped simultaneously, looking up at the sky.
Somehow, the clear sky had darkened. This match, it seemed, couldn't continue.
...
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