"…I'll admit it—you're better at defense than I expected. But your technique? Pretty awful."
Araki slid her practice katana back into its sheath, turning slightly as she spoke to Kota.
Ahem
"So what should I do, Miss Masako? Please, I'm begging you—teach me!"
"She's insane. This woman's totally insane! Just because I blocked her shot, she seriously tried to chop me up?!"
Cold sweat rolled down Kota's forehead as he made a silent vow to tone down the trash talk for a while. On the court, sure, it's fun. But with Araki? Without a referee around, he might actually get stabbed.
"Come at me."
Araki tossed the ball to him again. This time, she paused for a moment, then added,
"Don't rely on your speed or physicality. Attack only with rhythm — just dribbling control and timing."
Basketball without using speed or strength? That sounded absurd. But considering Masako's a woman and physically weaker by nature, this approach made sense—she wanted to help Kota understand the finer points of defensive technique.
Kota nodded, started dribbling to find his rhythm, then went in. He used a drag step to shift her balance, and when she didn't bite immediately, Kota raised the ball slightly like he was going for a gather, baiting her forward. Then came the "shammgod" into a drive.
But this time, Kota wasn't pushing his speed to the limit — he was counting on fakes to do the work.
Even though she'd already reacted to his fake, Araki still managed to keep up with him step-for-step.
"Huh? That whole balance-shifting thing… was an act?"
His mind kicked into high gear. Faced with Araki's pressure defense, Kota stuck to the rules — they'd agreed no using raw power — and lucky for him, his offensive toolkit had more tricks than just brute force.
He snapped the ball back with a hard dribble, spun halfway, dragged the ball behind him — then spun again.
And bam — ran straight into Araki.
Her petite frame stumbled backward from the collision, but even as she reeled, she whistled sharply through the ref's whistle she kept on hand.
"Tweet—charging."
Kota stood there, stunned.
He actually got called for an offensive foul? With his court IQ, that never happened—not unless he did it on purpose.
"Again. Still only using rhythm."
Araki repositioned and motioned for him to go again.
"Again."
"Tweet—charging."
"Again."
Clank! Off the rim.
"Again."
"Tweet—traveling violation."
"What the heck is going on??"
Why is her defense making me feel so damn miserable?
Three attacks, zero points—either fouls or bricks. Kota was visibly frustrated.
He drove again—but this time, Araki stripped the ball right out of his hands. Not even his Danger Sense talent could save him.
"Why?! Why is it so freaking hard to score on you?!"
He couldn't help but blurt it out. It's not like her defense felt suffocating—but he just couldn't get anything to land.
Shockingly, Araki actually smiled. Maybe she was finally feeling vindicated.
"When physical ability is close, offense relies on technique to score. Basketball is designed to favor offense—so defenders are usually at a disadvantage."
She glanced at Kota and saw he was actually listening for once. Nodding, she continued:
"Experience is the most important thing in defense. A seasoned defender can guess the attacker's next move based on a single hint. That's the basis of predictive steals."
"But you're good at protecting the ball and have fast reactions. So I switched it up—I focused on forcing mistakes. Everyone has a weakness. If I can't shut you down completely, I'll just make you screw up."
"Force mistakes…"
Kota stroked his chin, replaying her defense in their previous one-on-ones. Something was starting to click.
"Observe your opponent's tendencies, figure out what kind of shots they like, and then force them into the type they're worst at…"
"Of course" Araki added, "all of this only works when the physical difference isn't massive. Otherwise, no matter how good the technique, they'll just bulldoze right through you."
After talking so much, she exhaled and looked at Kota, who was deep in thought.
"You probably won't get it right away. Toss me the ball."
He obeyed and watched her stance—he got the message.
Theory was theory, but without practice, it meant nothing. Basketball wasn't some game you mastered lying in bed watching highlights.
The morning flew by. Besides defense drills, Araki also squeezed in a shooting test.
As expected, Kota's shooting was accurate — even had legit long-range threes — but his release was a bit slow. In Araki's scouting report, that put his shooting as only "average."
Morning: endurance drills + defensive technique + shooting fundamentals.
Afternoon: weight training + relaxed dribbling + massage.
Araki even micromanaged his meals. He got one cheat meal per week so his tongue wouldn't forget what flavor was.
Three months passed just like that.
The Winter Cup qualifiers had long begun. The top three from Interhigh — Kaijo, Rakuzan, and Yosen — were already locked into the main event. That left Kota completely free to focus on improving for the Winter Cup finals.
In that time, his body went through major changes. Okay, not dragon ball z transformation level, but still — pretty big.
Let's check Araki's stats notebook:
Name: Kota
Height: 184cm
Weight: 82 kg
Wingspan: 181 cm
Strength: Average
Speed: Poor
Shooting: Average
Stamina: Average
Basketball IQ: Good
Defense: Good
Thanks to the diet plan and strength training, Kota gained both height and wingspan. He was still in a growth spurt, after all.
The biggest change? His weight — he bulked up 11 kg! That was all from stuffing himself meal after meal.
Originally, Araki's plan was for him to reach 80 kg. But thanks to his Big Man Bully talent, any time he outweighed his opponent, even if he was shorter, he'd get a performance boost. So Kota had pushed for more weight.
His reason?
"I just really enjoy dominating lighter guys."
Araki gave him serious side-eye for that one but didn't object. She knew Kota had gotten good at using his weight smartly.
Of course, during training, she'd been on the receiving end of plenty of "booty bumps".
"What's the matter, Miss Masako? You've been dribbling so long you'd have triggered a 24-second violation by now."
"Quit yappin'!"
Inside the Shark Gym's indoor court, Kota and Araki were still grinding away on defense drills. But today was different — Kota's defense had evolved into something truly annoying.
He kept pestering her dribble space with irritating little hand movements, forcing her to keep retreating. In the end, she still couldn't find an opening and had to force a fadeaway, which bricked hard.
"Oof! What happened, Miss Masako? Want me to give you a masterclass on how to beat this kind of defense?"
After three months together, they were used to each other. Araki no longer threatened to draw her katana every time Kota ran his mouth.
She just rolled her eyes.
"Eat your damn lunch, finish your strength training and stretching, and then get back to Kaijo already."
The Winter Cup main bracket was starting next week. As the starting point guard, Kota needed to return early and sync with his teammates — after all, it had been over three months.
Kota didn't mind. He cheerfully ran off to eat his usual: broccoli, chicken breast, fish, and rice. Only now, the plate was much bigger than before.
Of all his improvements, defense had been the biggest jump. In fact, his system had even unlocked a new talent:
...
Talent: Death Bind (Harassment Version)
Your defense lowers opponents' shot accuracy by 10% and increases their turnover rate by 10%.
Self-developed talent.
...
Kota shoveled food into his mouth while mumbling in awe,
"Didn't even know I could unlock stuff like this on my own…"
Thanks to this new talent, his defense wasn't the only thing that got sharper — even his offensive reads improved. Every one-on-one with Araki had taught him something.
Soon, Araki returned from the locker room with a towel around her neck and her own lunch in hand. Without a word, she sat down next to him.
Somehow, at some point, the two of them had started eating together.
They ate quietly, focused on demolishing their food.
After finishing, Kota leaned back in his chair, toothpick in hand, and let out a big, unapologetic burp.
Araki, ever the lady, wiped her mouth with a napkin and silently picked up both trays. As she left, she threw a disgusted look his way.
"Miss Masako! Thank you for everything these past few months!"
Kota shouted at her retreating figure.
"I'm gonna make the national team! You'll see!"
Masako paused for a moment, then raised a hand to signal she heard him.
"But if we run into Yosen at the Winter Cup… don't expect me to go easy!"
Kota flashed a wide grin. If this were three months ago, she'd have tried to actually stab him for saying that.
But now, Araki only frowned slightly and muttered under her breath.
"Stupid brat…You think the national team's that easy, huh…"