The opening whistle still echoed in the air as the ball was tossed high, spinning slowly under the gymnasium's bright lights. Kazuya sprang up like a released coil, his muscles tensed to the limit, and with a precise strike, he sent the ball sailing into Sae Itoshi's eager hands.
And then, hell broke loose.
Sae surged forward like a turquoise bolt, his feet barely grazing the floor. Kiyoshi Teppei, the colossal "Uncrowned King," planted himself in his path like an insurmountable mountain—but Sae didn't slow down. He didn't hesitate.
He stopped.
Suddenly. Brutally. As if the laws of physics had been rewritten at his whim.
A chill ran down Kiyoshi's spine. Sae's face was motionless, as calm as the surface of a frozen lake. No tremble. No sweat. Only those turquoise eyes, now dilating, opening like portals to another world.
[Spatial Awareness]
The entire court unfolded in Sae's mind like a three-dimensional chessboard. Every player, every possible move, every microscopic weakness—all recorded, calculated, filed away.
And then, without warning, his arm moved.
It wasn't a pass. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The ball cut through the air in an impossible arc, spinning backward past Sae as if guided by satellites, grazing Kiyoshi's desperate fingertips by mere centimeters.
Baam!
The sound of the ball landing perfectly in Obuya's hands echoed like a gunshot.
Kiyoshi could barely believe it. His widened eyes traced the ball's trajectory, his brain struggling to process what he had just witnessed.
'What a pass…' he thought, the bitter taste of involuntary reverence in his mouth.
"Magnificent!" Obuya shouted, already in motion, his body propelled by the surgical precision of that pass. He dribbled past two defenders who stood like statues against the play Sae had orchestrated from the heavens—and then—
Baam!
The backboard shuddered as Obuya hung from the rim.
2-0.
The gym erupted. But Sae was already turning away, his back to the celebration, his turquoise eyes now locked on Kiyoshi.
"That was just the opening move, 'King'."
"Checkmate is coming."
And as he retreated on defense, the dark aura around Sae pulsed, as if laughing at all the fools who thought this was just a game of basketball.
The ball spun through the air, aimed straight at Kiyoshi, who caught it firmly. His eyes locked onto Kazuya's, who stood in front of him, determined.
"You're not getting past me!" Kazuya shouted, spreading his arms in a solid defensive stance.
Kiyoshi smiled calmly. "Oh really?"
And then, with a move that seemed to defy physics, he delayed the pass.
Kazuya reacted instinctively, anticipating the play, but Kiyoshi held onto the ball just a moment longer, completely fooling him before sending it flying toward Shoei's wing.
Tch… so this is his 'Delay' technique? Kazuya thought in frustration as he watched the ball soar toward Kiyoshi's teammate.
But then—
Fwoosh!
A shadow cut through the air.
Before the ball could reach its destination, a hand appeared out of nowhere, intercepting it mid-trajectory.
"Lukewarm."
Sae's voice rang out like a verdict as he gripped the ball firmly, his turquoise eyes gleaming with disdain.
Kiyoshi's eyes widened. "How did he—?!"
Without hesitation, Sae pivoted and fired off a lightning-fast pass to Obuya, who was already sprinting toward the offense.
Obuya, still guarded, caught the ball and, for a moment, hesitated.
"Huh? But I'm covered... What's he—?"
Then, he understood.
'Ah... so that's it.'
Sae hadn't made a blind pass. He knew Obuya would be there. He calculated that Shoei's defender wouldn't react in time.
'This guy is insane... but he's too good to deny his skill.'
With a grin, Obuya passed the ball to the side, where Kazuya was sprinting at full speed.
"I got this!" Kazuya reached out, ready to receive the pass.
But then—
"Not on my watch!"
Kiyoshi appeared like a hurricane, his massive body cutting off the path, his arms stretching to intercept.
Kazuya's heart skipped a beat. "Shit—!"
But before Kiyoshi could touch the ball...
"Still too... lukewarm."
A cold voice sliced through the air.
And then—Sae emerged from the shadows.
His body shot forward like lightning, his left hand snatching the ball at the last possible instant before Kiyoshi could reach it.
"Wha—?!" Kiyoshi barely had time to react.
Sae was already mid-air, his body twisting in a fluid motion, the ball secured in one hand.
BAM!!!
The rim shook violently as Sae slammed the ball down with brute force, his body hanging for a split second before he landed gracefully back on the court.
4-0.
The gym fell silent.
Kiyoshi, still standing, felt a chill run down his spine.
Sae looked at him, his turquoise eyes now gleaming with an almost supernatural light.
"You're interesting, 'King'... but you're still not enough."
The break between plays was brief, but long enough for a strategic whisper to spread among the Shoei players. Glances were exchanged, silent codes conveyed through nearly imperceptible gestures. Kiyoshi, still panting after Sae's last devastating attack, gathered his teammates in a tight huddle.
"He can't play alone," Kiyoshi muttered, his deep voice laced with urgency. "If we isolate him from the rest of the team..."
"Two against one," the Shoei point guard finished, his eyes narrowing with renewed determination. "No matter how good he is, no one can dribble past tight double coverage forever."
The referee's whistle cut through the air, signaling the game's resumption.
And then, just as planned, the moment Sae received the ball, two Shoei players closed in on him like the claws of a beast—one from the front, the other from behind, cutting off every possible passing lane.
The Shoei crowd erupted in cheers.
"That's it! Now he can't escape!"
"Come on, take the ball from him!"
But at the center of that relentless trap, Sae Itoshi didn't seem the least bit fazed. His lips curled slightly into something that could be called a smile, if it weren't so cold, so calculated.
'Ah, so that's it... Cutting me off from the team, huh?'
His thoughts flowed with glacial clarity, analyzing the situation like a scientist examining an intriguing specimen under a microscope.
'I figured someone would try this. But I thought it'd be the Generation of Miracles first... Well, no matter.'
And then, like a curtain rising for the main act of a macabre play, Sae activated his ability.
[Spatial Awareness - Maximum]
The world around him blurred for an instant before reorganizing into crystalline lines of pure information. Every player on the court became a data point in his expanded field of vision:
Obuya, moving to create a passing option on the right.
Kazuya, trying to break free from his defender to assist.
Karamatsu was open but staying back on defense.
Ichimura was marking Kiyoshi.
The two Shoei defenders, syncing their pressure like predators hunting in a pack.
But Sae saw more. Much more.
He saw the slight imbalance in the first defender's left foot—a poorly healed injury making him hesitate on sharp directional changes.
He saw the second defender's instinct to glance at his hips before every move—a habit that made his feints predictable.
He saw the invisible threads of the game, pulling each player like puppets in a cosmic theater.
'Time to play with the puppets.'
Sae's turquoise eyes gleamed through the dark strands of his sweat-dampened hair. The gym lights reflected in them for a moment, creating an almost supernatural effect—as if there truly was something predatory, something not quite human, behind that mask of calm.
And then, he moved.
It wasn't an ordinary dribble. It was perfect choreography—calculated to exploit the millimeters of space between his markers.
First, a slight sway to the left—the defender with the injured foot took the bait, shifting his weight to the wrong side.
Then, a 180-degree spin, his back momentarily brushing against the second defender's chest—just enough to sense the rhythm of his breath, the heat of his body, the exact moment his balance would waver.
And then—a feint forward, making both defenders lunge, followed by a change of direction so swift he seemed to vanish into thin air, only to reappear as his bent knees exploded into a lateral leap and a burst of forward speed.
The two defenders collided with each other like clumsy puppets, while Sae emerged from the encirclement like a ghost, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps and the sound of the ball bouncing in a relentless rhythm.
The roaring crowd fell silent.
Kiyoshi, watching from a few meters away, felt his stomach tighten.
'That wasn't a dribble…'
'It was an execution.'
And as Sae charged toward the basket, his eyes still gleaming with that unnatural turquoise light, a single truth became painfully clear to all of Shoei:
They weren't playing basketball.
They were being hunted.
The gymnasium roared. Shoei's crowd screamed, urging their players to swarm Sae like starving wolves. Four defenders closed in around him, forming an impenetrable wall.
But Sae wasn't trapped.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
'Rin Itoshi's off-ball movement and puppet-like control were products of his advanced Spatial Awareness…' His turquoise eyes swept the court in an instant, absorbing every detail. "Without those skills in my arsenal, I have to improvise."
And then, he moved.
Before the defenders could react, Sae shot a quick glance at Ichimura—his teammate—and raised his ring finger, a subtle signal, almost imperceptible.
Ichimura's eyes widened for a split second before he gave a sharp nod. He knew what to do.
And then, he moved.
Momentarily abandoning his mark on Kiyoshi, Ichimura lunged forward in a calculated path—a move that would only make sense if...
If only Sae had foreseen everything.
Meanwhile, Sae dribbled with short, precise movements, his feet barely touching the ground. The ball seemed glued to his hands, responding to every command like an extension of his body.
The four Shoei defenders closed in, their faces determined.
"Get him, Shoei!"
"Let's go!"
Sae smiled.
"Very well, my puppets."
He bounced the ball once, twice—and then, in an impossibly quick motion, his left hand brushed past the ball like a shadow.
The ball disappeared.
The defenders instinctively looked where it should have gone—but there was nothing there.
"What?!"
It was a perfect fake.
The ball had never left Sae's control. It was behind him, held by the slightest touch of his fingers as his body pivoted, using the centrifugal force of his movement.
[Spatial Awareness] + [Predator's Eye] – Maximum Synchronization.
He wasn't just seeing the game.
He was rewriting it.
Boom!
With a sharp slap, Sae sent the ball flying at an impossible angle. It cut through the air like a projectile, slipping through the tiny gap between two defenders before either could react.
The crowd could barely keep up—all they saw was an orange blur speeding across the court.
And then...
Pluft.
The ball landed perfectly in Ichimura's hands, already positioned exactly where Sae knew he would be.
No defender nearby.
No pressure.
Just the open basket ahead.
Swish!
6-0.
The gym fell silent.
Kiyoshi Teppei, still trying to process what had just happened, felt a chill run down his spine.
And Sae, already retreating on defense, didn't even celebrate.
Because to him, that was nothing more than...
The first act.