BEEP!
The sharp whistle pierced through the air — the Finals had officially begun with the tip-off!
Kagami crouched slightly, coiling his strength, and the moment the ball hit its peak, he launched up with explosive force, easily out-jumping Kobori to win the first possession for Seirin.
Izuki caught the ball and immediately fired a long pass to Kuroko upcourt — the same fastbreak tactic they'd used against Rakuzan in the semifinals.
Kota, running alongside Izuki, smirked knowingly.
"Of course they'd repeat a good tactic. But… the flaw's just as obvious."
The moment Kagami took the tip-off, Kota had already predicted the play.
Kuroko caught Izuki's pass, twisted his wrist — Ignite Pass!
Kagami was already in Kaijo's paint, his face lighting up in anticipation. Success! He caught the pass one-handed and instantly leapt — Meteor Jam!
"Scoring on us just like that? Not happening."
Trailing Kagami, Kise's eyes flashed gold. A sudden shift in his aura—
Perfect Copy: Murasakibara
Kise took a deep breath, fully replicating Murasakibara's defensive might. He soared effortlessly to meet Kagami mid-air and swatted the dunk attempt away with a thunderous block!
On the sidelines, Riko's eyes widened. What she thought was a near-unbreakable opening tactic had just been crushed with ease.
Kagami hit the floor, face twisted in frustration. If he'd landed that dunk, the "Trigger" would've fired…
"Guess Kota was right after all."
Kise walked past Kagami, his face wearing a mocking grin.
"What!?"
Kagami's eyes snapped to Kota, who was bent over, hands on his knees, watching Seirin with a mischievous smirk.
"Using Kagami's jump-ball win with Kuroko's vanishing drive to launch a swift opener and pull the trigger… solid plan. But having Kagami on the tip-off circle? You might as well wear a sign that says 'this is what we're doing.'"
Kota took the ball and began dribbling upcourt, flashing Kise a knowing look. Kise caught the signal and deactivated Perfect Copy.
Kuroko watched this, puzzled.
"Why not just keep using Perfect Copy to dominate the half?"
Before he could dwell on it, Kota answered the question directly:
"You're tired of seeing monsters in the Zone, right? How about I show you what a 'normal' guy can do—just for a change of pace?"
Kota licked his lips and flicked a glance at the stands—directly at Akashi.
"Huh?"
Izuki blinked, confused — until Kota suddenly crouched low, adjusting his pant leg.
Talent: Zone.
When he looked up again, a streak of white lightning flashed across his eyes. He stared playfully at the stunned Izuki, then without warning, pulled up for a deep three-point shot—netting it cleanly.
BEEP!
Kaijo #2, Three-Point Shot
"Don't mind it — next play!" Hyuga patted the dazed Izuki on the back, but Izuki just stood there, frozen.
"What's wrong?"
Hyuga squinted. Sure, getting a three splashed in your face sucked, but this was a bit much.
Izuki remained silent, tugging Hyuga's sleeve and pointing to Kaijo's side.
"What? What's over there?" Hyuga pushed up his glasses and glanced over. Kaijo was back on defense—nothing weird there… except Kota.
He was looking their way with that annoyingly smug grin, and… his eyes were sparking?
Sparking?
Hyuga froze. He removed his glasses, wiped them, put them back on—and the sparks were still there.
Hssssss!
Hyuga gasped sharply, whipping his head around and signaling frantically at Riko.
Timeout, Seirin.
Up in the stands, Aomine clicked his tongue.
"That bastard… he's in Zone, right?"
Akashi smiled faintly and nodded.
"So he finally shows his cards in the Finals…"
Murasakibara shoved another handful of snacks in his mouth, scowling.
"He's looking down on me or something? Didn't use it against me but saves it for Seirin?"
On the other side of the arena, National Team scout scribbled furiously in his notebook. When he heard the whistle, he looked up briefly, then sneered.
"Calling a timeout less than a minute in? Guess even a Finals match is just a bunch of amateurs in the end."
He went back to writing, uninterested in watching further.
"What's wrong, Hyuga?"
Riko was puzzled. It was just one three-pointer — why waste a timeout? Still, trusting her players, she'd called it anyway.
Hyuga swallowed hard.
"Kota… I think he's in Zone."
"What!?"
The entire Seirin squad stared blankly. The faint white lightning wasn't easy to notice — only Izuki and Hyuga had caught it.
"Are you sure? That guy—"
Kagami frowned, eyeing the Kaijo bench where Kota was laughing and chatting casually with Kise.
"No way… he's a Generation of Miracles-level player too?"
"I'm sure. Izuki saw it too" Hyuga pushed up his glasses again, snuffing out their wishful thinking.
"Either way, we need to adjust our strategy right now."
Kaijo Bench
"Hey Kota, how'd you know they'd run that play?" Kise asked, chin propped on his hands.
Kota shot him a massive eye-roll.
"Because it's easy to score that way. And Kagami at center court? Might as well broadcast your playbook."
Kise nodded, finally understanding.
Kota shook his head, exasperated.
"This really is Kuroko no Basket world. Nobody cares about tactics, huh? That was kiddie stuff."
"Did you also expect them to call such an early timeout?" Kise, ever the curious one, asked.
This time, Kota stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Not really. That was surprisingly decisive. But it was the right call."
He recalled Hyuga's sharp eyes the moment he noticed Kota's Zone.
"If they'd hesitated because it was too early for a timeout, I could've run up the score before they even realized."
"Good call, Hyuga… guess you're not just some side character after all."
The opening strategy was simple — Kise's Perfect Copy to disrupt Seirin's tempo, then Kota activating Zone to seize control.
Kota had devised it after watching Seirin's match against Rakuzan the previous day. And even though their instant timeout derailed his pacing, his Overthinker Talent let him activate Zone anytime.
"So…" Kota cracked his knuckles. "Let's enjoy the game properly—before they awaken that power of theirs."