As the referee's whistle blew, Kise's expression turned grim. He knew that was his third foul. It takes five fouls to foul out, but racking up three before halftime? That guaranteed he'd be walking on eggshells for the rest of the game.
Kota's brows were also tightly furrowed. He hesitated—should he call a timeout? But the thought barely surfaced before he pushed it down.
Kise's foul had been to stop Kagami's scoring chance. What's done is done. Pulling Kise now to protect him from fouling out? That would only let Seirin run wild on offense. Playing it safe would just be putting the cart before the horse.
Once that clicked, Kota shook his head at Takeuchi, who coincidentally was thinking the same thing—unless Kise hits four fouls, there's no way they were pulling him.
At the free-throw line, Kagami exhaled deeply, steadied himself, and shot.
Swish!
First free throw, good.
Clang!
Second, off the rim.
Kobori was quick on the rebound, securing it with a burst of power and immediately handed it off to Kota.
Kota pushed up the court, already strategizing their next offensive move.
One minute left in the second quarter. 45-34, Kaijo still ahead.
In the stands—
Murasakibara pouted.
"What's with that? Of all times, Kise copies me just to let Kagami score on him."
Neither Aomine nor Akashi responded — they were locked in, watching the game unfold.
On the court, Kaijo's next offensive set created another open look beyond the arc, but unfortunately, it didn't fall.
With 20 seconds left in the second quarter, Seirin got the rebound. Izuki smartly controlled the clock, then passed to Kagami.
Everyone expected Kagami to go solo, but he surprised them by handing the ball off to Hyuga with a dribble hand-off and then setting a screen. Caught off guard, Kaijo's defenders slipped up for just a moment. Hyuga didn't waste it—he pulled up and nailed the buzzer-beating three!
Halftime. 45-37. Kaijo still leads, but Seirin closes the gap to single digits.
Kota watched Kagami high-five his teammates with a dark expression, silently complaining: You pop Zone mode just to set screens for your teammates?
"No wonder Himuro can't stand you. If he saw this, he'd probably die of frustration."
Elsewhere in the stands, Himuro suddenly sneezed. He scrunched his nose but brushed it off. Must've been the chilly weather.
"Taiga's gotten really strong" he thought, watching Kagami's back disappear into the locker room with envy.
"I wish I could enter the Zone too…"
Meanwhile, Kaijo's locker room at halftime—
Kise sat cross-legged, eyes closed, muttering,
"I'm a free seagull… soaring in the sky… I'm a free seagull…"
Next to him, Kota scratched his head, debating whether to stop Kise—especially since all this "free seagull" stuff was complete nonsense he'd made up.
With a sigh, Kota thought:
"Damn, this is a problem. I didn't think Seirin would be this good."
He'd joked around about the Zone and Perfect Copy with Kise at first, just for fun. But now? Both together were actually being suppressed? This isn't Seirin — it's like we're up against an NBA team reincarnated!
And judging by how Seirin had picked up their pace by the end of the second quarter, they were only getting better. It was just a matter of time before they went all out—third quarter, fourth quarter—who knew.
Kota's head was pounding, made worse by Kise's constant babbling about seagulls and freedom.
"We've still got the lead" Kota announced, cutting into Kise's rambling with a precise karate chop to his side, pausing his 'meditation'.
"But we can't ignore that weird energy Seirin's got going on."
He took a deep breath.
"So here's the play: third quarter, we hit them with full-court man-to-man."
(Basketball tip: Full-court man-to-man means guarding opponents one-on-one from the moment they inbound the ball. It's physically demanding and eats up stamina fast.)
"But genius" Kota added, "you've already got three fouls."
Kise opened his eyes, scratching his head awkwardly.
"I know, I'll be careful. I'll play it safe."
"No."
That caught Kise off guard. Kota shook his head firmly.
"You're gonna keep playing just as aggressively as before. More aggressive, even."
Kise paused, then nodded seriously—he understood what Kota meant.
Takeuchi watched this from the side, quietly nodding to himself.
If Kise started holding back because of foul trouble, he might as well already be on the bench. In high-level matches, a hesitant player is just dead weight.
Takeuchi watched Kota in the middle of the team, passionately laying out the next strategy, spitting as he talked.
"Why does this kid feel more like the coach than me?"
When he thought about it, Takeuchi realized he was basically just there to give interviews. Even timeouts were usually called based on Kota's cues.
"Eh, whatever. I still get paid. Less work, even some media spotlight. Not bad."
☑️ Coach with shifted job focus☒ Coach on the verge of unemployment
Meanwhile, Seirin locker room—
Riko brought out some lemons she'd prepared the day before to help the players recover. Her cooking, however... left a lot to be desired.
Kagami stared at the two huge, uncut lemons in front of him, his eye twitching.
"Seriously… you didn't even slice them? Isn't that a bit much?"
Hyuga swallowed nervously, staring at the lemon in his hand, deep in thought.
"Should I eat this? If I don't, will Riko be upset? But if I do... will I survive the rest of the game?"
Thankfully, Izuki swooped in to save the day. Ever the mood reader, he grabbed Hyuga's lemon chunk, patted Mitobe on the shoulder, and chuckled,
"Let's save these for after the game. Lemon slices make more sense for halftime, right?"
The usually quiet and dependable Mitobe pulled a box of neatly sliced lemons from his locker. Growing up with a house full of younger siblings, his domestic skills were top-tier—way beyond anything Riko could whip up.
"No wonder you're the big bro!"
"Mitobe for MVP!"
The Seirin squad erupted in cheers, crowding around to share the hard-earned snacks.
Kagami even passed a slice to Kuroko, who took it quietly — leaving Riko standing there, frozen, her feelings visibly hurt.
Watching this, Hyuga looked torn. Then, as if making a great sacrifice, he marched up to Riko, grabbed a whole lemon from her hands, and took a giant bite — peel and all.
Riko stared, stunned, as Hyuga, mouth still full, shoved the remaining half into his mouth too.
Everyone was floored — even Kuroko dropped his lemon slice.
"Tastes alright, just too damn big. Next time, slice them" Hyuga said, spitting out the rind before shoving his hands into his pockets, striking a cool pose as he walked out.
"Gotta hit the restroom."
...
"Halftime is over! Let's give a warm welcome as both teams return to the court!"
The announcer's sultry voice echoed through the stadium as players from both sides emerged from the tunnels.
Kota studied Seirin from afar. Kagami's Zone was gone after the long break, but their momentum hadn't faded.
Only Hyuga looked a little off, like he had a stomachache or something. Kota noted it but didn't dwell, heading straight to the inbound spot. Third quarter—Kaijo ball.
The whistle blew — the second half began.
Kota caught the ball and immediately sprinted down the court, a total change of pace. The entire Kaijo squad followed.
This was Kota's new tactic: "Steal the Rhythm."A hyper-fast offense designed to break Seirin's formation and score before they could reset. The downside? It burned through stamina fast.
Luckily, thanks to Araki's three-month intensive training, Kota's stamina was already at pro point guard standards. Plus, his Pants-Up Defense talent restored a bit of stamina now and then — he was far from gassed.
White sparks flashed in his eyes as he crossed up Izuki, using a feint and speed boost to blow by him cleanly.
"Stop him!"
Kiyoshi spread his arms wide, his excellent defensive instincts still making him a threat despite poor positioning.
Kagami also rushed over to help trap him.
Kota paused, looked up at the two of them like they were on high alert, and chuckled,
"If you're both watching me this close, my ace is gonna get jealous."
With that, Kota tossed the ball high into the air, smiling as he glanced back at Kuroko, who had silently crept up.
Kuroko frowned — now that it was the third quarter, his misdirection was weakening.
Kota's pass was way off target. If left alone, it'd be an airball.
Kagami relaxed, realizing this wasn't like Aomine's erratic shooting style.
"Good thing he's not Kise—wait, where IS Kise?"
Kagami whipped his head around just in time to see a golden figure leaping into the air to snag the pass.
"Damn it, who else could hit that besides me?"
Kise muttered under his breath, a flash of red in his eyes as his aura shifted.
Perfect Copy: Kagami Taiga! Meteor Jam!
With a sharp exhale, Kise extended his body, perfectly replicating the dunk Kagami had just scored earlier.
BEEEP!
As the ref's whistle blew and the crowd erupted, Kise landed smoothly, walked over to Kota, and bumped fists.
"Your passes are always cutting it close."
"Nice shot, genius."