BEEP!
The referee's whistle blew. Fortunately, the ball flew out of bounds — Kaijō's offensive play had failed, but Seirin missed their chance to launch a fast break. Kaijō retained possession.
Kota stood with hands on hips, watching Kasamatsu help up a bruised Kobori. He sighed internally:
"Damn, Kagami's built like a truck."
Even Kota couldn't see when exactly Kagami had rushed inside for that help defense. What kind of basketball mutant is this guy?
With Kise benched, this was Kota's first time leading the team solo and feeling the full weight of a Generation of Miracles-level defense.
"Guess inside offense is out of the question..."
Kota rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Since the ball was out of bounds, a substitution was still possible. He shot a look at Takeuchi.
Kaijō made a substitution.
Shoji exited. Enter Moriyama — formerly Kaijō's starting shooting guard before Kasamatsu got pushed to SG. This guy had one quirky, Unorthodox Shot!
Considering how terrifying Kagami was in the paint, Kota abandoned the idea of attacking inside altogether. Moriyama's long-range bombing was now far more useful than Shoji's mid-range reliability.
What's that? Three guards on court? Too short to defend properly? Ha! As if putting a couple tall dudes in there would magically stop Kagami. Below the level of the Miracles, everyone's just cannon fodder anyway.
Kota had no energy left to play defense. So, why bother? Let Kagami score, conserve energy for key plays, and boost his teammates instead.
Kaijō inbounded again, but this time Seirin went full court man-to-man right from the pass. Two minutes left, five-point deficit—if Kaijō scored here, it could be lights out for Seirin.
Izuki was all over Kota like a tax collector, harassing him at every angle. But Kota, taller and heavier, easily boxed him out and received the ball without issue.
Before Kota could even adjust his stance, Kagami abandoned his fake defense on Moriyama and blitzed toward him. With Kise gone, Seirin knew exactly who the real threat was now.
Seeing the red blur barreling in, Kota quickly bounced the ball to a wide-open Moriyama. Unlike Izuki, who was basically a warm-up dummy, getting swiped by Kagami was a real danger.
Moriyama hesitated — new to the court, his hands weren't warm. So, he passed it back to Kota. Plus, with the clock ticking, Kaijō just needed to manage time and the advantage was theirs.
Kagami, frustrated after the failed steal, clenched his jaw. Without Kuroko, the gap on his end was showing too.
Kota noticed Kagami's emotional shift, dribbling with casual thoughtfulness.
As the shot clock dwindled, Kaijō repeated their inside screen play to free up another three-point attempt. Moriyama got the shot off—but clanked it. Kiyoshi secured the rebound cleanly.
Seirin rushed down. Kagami bulldozed straight to the paint and scored within 7 seconds. The gap closed again.
Final minute: 96–93, Kaijō up.
Kota exhaled deeply, calming his nerves. The closer to the end, the fewer mistakes could be tolerated.
Crossing half-court, he was now guarded by Kagami himself. The redhead's eyes practically screamed: "I'm stopping you this time!"
Kota slowed the tempo. Sure, he probably couldn't blow by Kagami at this stage, but holding on to the ball without getting picked? Easy.
As he danced around with Kagami, he still had enough clarity to scan teammate positions. Unfortunately, Seirin's team defense was clinical—every switch and hedge perfectly timed. "Five Players, One Mind" was living up to its name.
Takeuchi watched anxiously from the bench. If Kaijō scored here, they'd hold the edge in the final stretch. If not, it was anyone's game—and without Kise, that wasn't good news.
Five seconds left on the shot clock. No teammates open. Kota bit the bullet and went ISO. He chucked a contested three over Kagami… and bricked it.
The crowd groaned. A few Seirin fans cheered. Kaijō had just wasted a golden chance to seal it.
Kobori tried hard on the rebound, but against Kiyoshi? No dice.
Seirin grabbed it. Kagami immediately called for the ball.
96–93. 37 seconds left.
Quick bucket, then stop Kaijō on defense, then buzzer-beater — easy peasy!
Kagami's eyes sparkled at the thought. He could already picture the crowd erupting as he nailed the game-winner.
But this time, Kota didn't slack. He met Kagami head-on.
Last two possessions. No matter how gassed he was, Kota clenched his teeth and committed.
Kagami glanced at Kota and didn't think much. Kota had never really guarded him seriously — and from past plays, his defense didn't seem threatening. That confidence would cost him.
As usual, Kagami charged in hard — no hesitation. Barely even dribbled. Just tried to bulldoze through Kota.
Big mistake.
Kota, fresh off intense training, wasn't some pushover. His defensive stats had been improved in Araki's database. Paired with his Death Bind talent, his defense now rivaled Kise's base level!
BANG!
Kagami's shoulder slammed into Kota. He grunted, nearly lost his footing—but held strong!
Now Kagami was the one caught off guard. That wasn't supposed to happen.
Frustrated, Kagami leaned in again—this time, elbow slightly raised.
Kota had been waiting. The moment he felt Kagami's full weight lean into him, Kota went full soccer drama mode—took the contact and flopped, hands over face like he'd been shot.
Everyone froze. Except Kagami, who casually finished the layup and turned around—confused.
"Hey, you good?"
He crouched beside Kota, puzzled. Did I get that strong or something?
Kota stayed silent, hands covering his face.
Takeuchi bolted toward the ref.
"That's a flagrant! FLAG-RANT!! Go to the tape!!"
He hollered like it was Black Friday. Knowing Kota's tendencies, he knew this was a play for the whistle. Whether it was real or fake, now was the time to squeeze every bit of advantage out of it.
The young ref panicked. He paused the game, turning to the head ref for help.
Reluctantly, the main official reviewed the footage. Takeuchi was practically breathing on the monitor.
Sure enough, the second time Kagami lowered his shoulder, his elbow popped out past his cylinder. Offensive foul? Definitely. Flagrant? Eh...
The ref recognized the flop instantly. Kota sold it hard—but Kagami's elbow movement was instinctive, not malicious.
He glanced down at Kota—still doing his Oscar-worthy impression of a dying anime protagonist—and then at Takeuchi, who was still fuming.
These two are a team alright. One draws the foul, the other cons the ref.
Still, drawing fouls is a skill. If it works, it works.
BEEP!
"Seirin #10 – Offensive foul.
Ball possession, Kaijō."
Cue Kaijō fans losing their minds. 30 seconds left, ball in hand, up 96–93.
Make this, and it's basically game over.
Kise leapt off the bench in excitement, only to wobble and nearly fall — caught just in time by Takeuchi, whose usually stern face broke into a grin. Even his double chin looked joyful.
Seirin looked stunned. Kagami's eye twitched — he had just discovered the dark art of flop-induced betrayal. Basketball is evil...
Kota, still on the ground pretending to be injured (aka catching a breather), slowly stood up, casually fixing his hair.
"Don't call me cheap, Kagami" he chuckled. "I remember what Kuroko pulled to get Kise fouled out."
Final 30 seconds: 96–93, Kaijō leads.
Kaijō's final offensive play.
Kota stood alone at the top, staring down Kagami. He motioned for everyone to clear out. Time to go 1v1.
A team known for passing now placed all their trust in one man. Four players drifted to the corners. This was his stage.
"Go Kota!!"
"Finish it!!"
Kaijō's bench roared. This moment — the one chance to seal the win — had everyone on edge.
On Seirin's end, even Kuroko shouted encouragement. Riko pulled out a literal megaphone.
In the stands, everyone was standing. Even Araki snapped out of her daze, eyes locked on Kota.
Inside the arc, Kagami spread his arms. Wild power and the Zone both flared—if he couldn't stop this, Seirin was finished.
No doubt, Kagami was Generation-level now.
Even from a step beyond the arc, Kota could feel the defensive pressure. His Danger Sense passive screamed: Not an easy target.
But Seirin's teamwork was on par with Kaijō's. And with Kiyoshi on the court, they arguably had the edge. Rather than risk a forced pass, Kota chose to end it himself.
"Jeez, supposed to be the second option… but I'm carrying the whole thing."
Kota muttered, gaze sharpening.
Miss or not… we're still ahead by three. They might not even make their shot...
Nope. Can't think like that. That guarantees a miss.
A flash of white lightning sparked in his eyes — King of the Final Quarter
13 seconds left. Seven seconds on the shot clock.
Kota made his move.
A big drag step — Kagami didn't bite, didn't even shift.
Kota flowed smoothly into a side-step drive into the arc.
Kagami flared red. He pivoted instantly, pressing hard. Kota felt the force from the side—he couldn't muscle through.
Though listed as a small forward, Kagami played more like a power forward. His build matched most bigs—yet he still had insane speed.
Ugh, what a pain…
But Kota had expected this. If it were that easy, the game would've been over already.
He popped into a light hop step, slipping around Kagami's contact zone, lifting the ball like he was going up for a shot.
Master of Fakes
It was perfectly timed—except Kagami didn't fall for it. His instincts saw through most fakes.
So Kota rolled into the real deal. A hard dribble pull-back, then actually loaded the shot. He rose —ball above his head.
Kagami's eyes locked. He exploded upward — massive wingspan blotting out the light. A shadow covered Kota entirely.
Yet, under that shadow, Kota's smile crept in.
Kagami felt a chill mid-air. His gut screamed: something's wrong.
"You guys don't really have 'Soma Steps' in Japan, do you?"
(In basketball, the "Soma Step" also known as the "China Step" refers to a specific technique used when a player gathers the ball while moving, often during a drive to the basket. It involves a gather step (often with one foot already on the ground when the ball is caught) followed by two additional steps before passing, shooting, or dribbling again.)
Kota stepped sideways past Kagami, both feet lifting simultaneously to avoid a travel.
"Then let's call it the Up-and-Under."
As Kagami watched, shocked, Kota launched the ball just as the buzzer hit for the 24-second shot clock.
Landing awkwardly, Kota stared up at the arc of the ball… and already knew the result.