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The first quarter ended quickly.
The score was 22 to 20, with Kirisaki Daiichi holding a slight lead.
Despite the fast pace of the game, the score wasn't particularly high.
Most of the possessions revolved around Tendou and Aomine. In the first quarter, Tendou had 8 shot attempts and Aomine had 7.
Tendou: 7 of 8.
Aomine: 6 of 7.
Neither of them missed much—it was a battle of monsters.
On the Tōō bench—
Imayoshi glanced over and noticed Aomine drenched in sweat. He considered pulling him out for a breather.
Since joining Tōō, this was the first time he'd seen Aomine in this state.
"Is the pressure from Tendou really that intense?" he muttered, shaking his head before turning to Aomine. "Want to sit for a bit?"
"Don't bother doing anything unnecessary," Aomine rejected the idea immediately. "Other than me, who can guard Tendou?"
He might be simple, but he wasn't an idiot.
He was well aware that his long-term lack of training had left a gap in his stamina—and he was pretty sure Momoi had already told Tendou.
After saying that, he even shot a look at Momoi. She returned the gaze, eyes welling up as she met him head-on.
"You should've just gone and joined Kirisaki with Tendou," Aomine muttered as he wiped sweat from his brow.
Still, he knew—even without Momoi, Tendou would've found and exploited his weakness.
That's what the Six Eyes did.
Tendou's eyes were the ultimate intelligence-gathering device.
That's why, in the days before the game, Aomine had quietly resumed some light training.
...
On the other side—
A few Kirisaki Daiichi players were checking in on Tendou.
"Want to take a break?"
Tendou shook his head. "No need. This is all part of the plan."
Aomine was a freak of nature. Even with limited recent training, his stamina stat still sat at a solid 90.
And given how fast young players recovered, giving him half a quarter plus halftime would be enough to go the distance.
Tendou had no intention of giving him that luxury.
He was ready to go 40 minutes straight, if that's what it took.
"But now, you all better pay close attention," he added, tossing aside his towel. He took a sip of water from a teammate and said calmly, "Imayoshi won't waste Momoi's ability."
The rest of the bench nodded in understanding.
And sure enough, when the second quarter began, Tōō adjusted their lineup just like Tendou predicted—Imayoshi started taking over as the offensive coordinator.
He was there to reduce Aomine's workload as much as possible.
Dribbling casually beyond the arc, Imayoshi squinted, a subtle smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.
"Really didn't want to run into you on the court, Hanamiya."
"Oh? If you're that scared, how about you head back to your mom and ask her for a napkin?"
Hanamiya Makoto stepped up personally to guard his old captain.
These two weren't physical freaks like Aomine or Kagami.
Their battles were all about the mind.
They were tacticians, schemers—the type of players whose strength came from brainpower rather than muscle.
They said players who relied on strategy always had the dirtiest hearts. That was certainly true here.
While Imayoshi casually chatted, he was also distracting Hanamiya and observing him closely.
As expected—just like Momoi predicted. He knows our playbook inside and out.
Hanamiya, meanwhile, was watching his old captain carefully, already simulating what this sly bastard was thinking.
Ten seconds burned off the shot clock—and nothing had happened.
Inside the paint, Wakamatsu made the first move, stepping out of the key to offer a hand-off option to Imayoshi.
On the other side, Susa Yoshinori quickly rotated into the lane.
Still calm, Imayoshi thought, Passing to either of them would be a decent option. But Hanamiya will definitely be predicting that. His brain's already walked through every step of our set.
Hanamiya: You're thinking I've predicted your standard options. So you'll go against expectation and jam the ball to the big man, then cut backdoor to catch me slipping, right?
Too bad, Imayoshi. Even that's too predictable.
Just as Imayoshi's hand finally moved—
The Seirin players watching from the stands held their breath.
Where's the ball going? Wakamatsu or Susa?
Neither!
Imayoshi delivered a sharp pass diagonally, whipping it toward Sakurai Ryō in the left corner.
A grin spread across his face. Gotcha.
Then—
SLAP!
Hanamiya intercepted the pass cleanly, snatching it out of midair.
He sneered. "Hmph. Of course you wouldn't pass to either of them."
"You're a twisted bastard. You always go for the safest and most unexpected solution."
What?!
Imayoshi's pupils dilated in shock.
He saw through it?!
"He out-read even Momoi's simulation?" the Tōō bench gasped.
So far during the tournament, Momoi's scouting and tactical predictions had given them the upper hand in every match.
Her intelligence work and scenario mapping were top-tier.
And yet—Hanamiya saw right through them?
But wasn't Momoi's prediction system only ineffective against the Generation of Miracles?
"No… It's not about prediction. He just understood our game plan inside and out."
"And more than that—he knows us too well."
The truth was, Hanamiya wasn't particularly gifted in intel analysis.
His true talent was reading tactics and psychology.
Momoi's scouting had revealed Tōō's overall strategy—layer one.
But Hanamiya peeled it back in reverse, deducing from their formations what the likely attack points would be.
It sounded easy, but in reality it required an almost perverse level of insight.
He didn't just identify plays—he read Imayoshi's mind.
In this field, Hanamiya stood alone.
No one else dared claim they could do it better.
He took pleasure in pushing opponents to despair.
Especially the ones who played with pure motives—like Kiyoshi Teppei.
The violence was just a means to an end.
What Hanamiya truly enjoyed… was the hopelessness on his opponents' faces.
"You call me dirty? Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Imayoshi's fake-smiling eyes were practically twitching now.
This time, he'd been thoroughly outplayed by his underclassman.
"Did I ever say I was some upstanding citizen?" Hanamiya replied dryly.
He was a scumbag. He admitted that much.
He took pleasure in other people's misery.
"Not bad," Tendou said as he turned the moment Hanamiya made the steal.
And it was true—
When it came to the darkest heart in all of Kuroko's Basketball, there was no one darker than Hanamiya Makoto.
In his psychological chess match with Imayoshi, he had taken the first win.