Aoi Kunisaku and Sawakita Eiji looked like they were in a world of their own. They kept running, pulling, colliding on the court, like they were locked in a battle meant only for the two of them.
One in red, one in white—their figures weaved together like twin streaks of light, darting all over the court. Sometimes they were shoulder to shoulder, other times apart, their footwork too fast to clearly follow.
"Yeah, that's it," Aoi Kunisaku said mid-run, grinning as excitement flashed in his eyes. "Faster. Stronger."
His tone was light, with a teasing edge. Like this wasn't a high-stakes game, but a long-awaited challenge he was thoroughly enjoying.
Meanwhile, Sawakita Eiji remained stone-faced. His brows furrowed, his expression sharp with focus. It was almost cold.
No one could guess what was running through his mind. But his relentless pace and unwavering eyes made one thing clear—he had no intention of backing down.
While the two of them kept circling each other, locked in their own chase, the rest of the game surged forward.
Rukawa Kaede charged under Akita's basket with the ball. No hesitation. He leapt and slammed the ball down with a single hand.
Ka-lang…
The deafening slam echoed through the arena like a thunderclap.
The basketball flew straight through the net. No delay.
The scoreboard lit up again.
Kanagawa 54, Akita 48.
The gap widened by 2 more points.
"Dammit…" Fukatsu Kazunari stood frozen, hands clenched into fists, gritting out a quiet curse.
His eyes dropped. His brows locked in frustration. The sting of regret wrapped tight around him.
That brief moment of panic—passing the ball on instinct, without a second's thought—was now lodged in his chest like a thorn.
Why had he panicked at the sight of Aoi Kunisaku?
He hadn't even made physical contact with the guy, yet he still tossed the ball away without thinking.
It was inexcusable.
Fukatsu Kazunari picked up the ball again to lead the next play.
He stood near center court. Scanned the floor. His eyes locked on Aoi Kunisaku. Still trapped under Sawakita Eiji's tight defense. No sign of slipping free.
Only then did Fukatsu Kazunari breathe a little easier. He gripped the ball tighter and started moving toward Kanagawa's half.
His steps steady. Eyes sharp.
This time, he wouldn't screw up.
Quickly, he pushed through Kanagawa's defense.
Just as Maki Shinichi closed in, Fukatsu Kazunari made a clean pass straight to Matsumoto Minoru.
Matsumoto Minoru caught it clean. Then started drifting slowly along the Three-Point Line. Calm and careful.
Sendoh Akira followed him step for step. His eyes sharp as a hawk, never giving him an inch to shoot.
The two of them kept moving around the arc, pulling and feinting. Tension quietly building.
Soon, Matsumoto Minoru drifted close to where Nobe Masahiro and Rukawa Kaede were positioned.
Without pause, he curved around Nobe Masahiro's side, trying to shake free.
Sendoh reacted quickly. He looped behind Rukawa Kaede to cut off the angle.
But halfway through the turn—
Matsumoto Minoru suddenly pulled back. Stopped. Took a quick sidestep and planted himself right beside Nobe Masahiro.
The move was fast.
Sendoh's vision got blocked mid-route. He didn't adjust in time.
By the time he had line of sight again, Matsumoto Minoru had completely slipped away. Now standing outside the Three-Point Line, completely open.
Without hesitation, Matsumoto Minoru jumped. Shot. Smooth and precise.
The ball cut through the air, flying toward the rim.
Rukawa Kaede finally reacted. He lunged with a hand up, but he was a beat too late.
The ball skimmed his fingertips and kept going—its arc clean and unwavering.
Sendoh finally realized he'd been duped. A faint smile of resignation crept across his lips.
But just as the ball drew that perfect curve, and everyone thought that Three-Point Shot would drop clean—
A figure suddenly leapt up from behind Rukawa Kaede.
The move was as fierce as a pouncing leopard, carrying sharp, predatory momentum.
Pa—!
A loud, crisp slap echoed through the air.
That hand swatted the basketball hard, like it had just snatched away a win right from mid-air.
Just moments ago, Matsumoto Minoru still wore a confident look with the corners of his lips lifted slightly. Now, his expression froze like someone hit pause on his face.
His eyes widened. His pupils filled with disbelief and shock.
He couldn't understand it at all.
That person—who should've been tightly marked by Sawakita Eiji—had just shown up right in front of him at the most crucial moment.
It was Aoi Kunisaku.
The same Aoi Kunisaku who was supposed to be tightly locked down, completely restricted by Sawakita Eiji.
Yet now, he appeared out of nowhere, like a ghost, standing right in front of him.
For a moment, everyone on the court stood frozen.
They glanced at each other, eyes filled with confusion and disbelief.
No one could figure out—why was Aoi Kunisaku here?
Wasn't he being tightly covered by Sawakita Eiji?
If Aoi Kunisaku was here, then… where was Sawakita Eiji?!
...
When everyone began searching for Sawakita Eiji's figure, they finally saw it.
He was right in front of Aoi Kunisaku. No more than a step away.
But that was exactly what confused everyone even more.
Sawakita Eiji was clearly right in front of Aoi Kunisaku. Practically shoulder-to-shoulder, sticking to him with airtight defense. So how did Aoi Kunisaku manage to break out and block Matsumoto Minoru's shot right in front of everyone?
The sight left spectators, coaches, and even Akita's own players completely baffled.
It made no logical sense.
Maybe—just maybe—only Sawakita Eiji himself vaguely understood what happened.
But even if you asked him to explain it out loud, he probably couldn't.
He didn't even know how he ended up in this spot.
From beginning to end, he had followed Aoi Kunisaku's every step, not letting a single stride slip away. He ran beside him like a shadow.
But somehow, the two of them had looped around half the court. Their steps twisted and overlapped. And just like that, he ended up right where he was now, without even realizing it.
Then...
He just stood there and watched as Aoi Kunisaku leapt in front of him and lunged for the Three-Point Shot that was about to be taken.
At that moment, Sawakita hadn't even processed what was happening.
His body was still reacting to Aoi Kunisaku's movement. But by then, Aoi had already completed the block and landed steadily.
Sawakita could only stand there, eyes blank, watching it all unfold.
His brain briefly froze. He couldn't figure out what Aoi Kunisaku was trying to do.
All those cuts, shifts, loops—none of it seemed like offense. It was like he was just dragging him along for a dance.
His body had followed Aoi Kunisaku's every motion, but his mind couldn't keep up at all.
Only when Aoi Kunisaku jumped high and swatted Matsumoto Minoru's shot out of the air did Sawakita finally realize—so that was the plan!
But...
Now he found himself in a new kind of confusion.
He had thought he'd figured out how to guard Aoi Kunisaku. Stay close. Mark tightly. Don't give space. Interrupt his shooting rhythm.
Yes, he could prevent Aoi Kunisaku from disturbing others. He could challenge him during shot attempts. He could slow his tempo by staying glued to him.
But the problem now was—
How was he supposed to stop Aoi Kunisaku from blocking his own teammate's shot through him?
He hadn't prepared for that.
Should he jump too?
If he did, wouldn't he just end up blocking Matsumoto Minoru's sight himself?
Aoi wouldn't even need to jump. He'd already helped ruin the shot just by standing there.
Then how are they supposed to play like this?
He stood still, dazed and confused.
He never expected Aoi Kunisaku to pull something like this.
He was completely locked down—yet still broke free at the exact moment it counted and delivered a crushing block.
That little bit of confidence Sawakita had built up after managing to barely keep up with Aoi Kunisaku in the second half—vanished like it'd been doused in ice water.
It was like he had just touched the edge of the door… only for it to slam in his face.