Because this was Touou High School's home court,
Todai High School had possession to start the game.
The inbound pass was taken by Miyara Ichi.
The moment Ueno Juri caught the ball, a shadow closed in.
A body slid directly into his path, arms spread wide, cutting off every angle.
Ueno lifted his eyes.
Standing in front of him was Aomine Daiki, his expression cold and unreadable.
Among the Generation of Miracles, it was hard to say who was truly the strongest.
Their positions were different—Murasakibara Atsushi dominated defense, Akashi Seijuro controlled the entire court like a king.
But when it came to pure offensive power, there was no debate.
Aomine Daiki.
Unrestricted movement.
Wild, unorthodox rhythm.
Explosive acceleration.
Formless Shot from impossible angles.
A Zone he could enter without relying on anything but himself.
A walking scoring machine.
Aomine stared at Ueno, palms open, blocking his path completely.
"Don't disappoint me."
Ueno dribbled slowly, eyes sharp.
Don't disappoint you?
Aomine was still in his slump.
Winning had become routine.
Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten why he played basketball.
And deep down, he believed something dangerous—
That no one but himself could defeat him.
Ueno flicked his gaze toward his teammates.
Every passing lane was sealed.
Touou's defense had already locked them down.
Yagami Osaka stood expressionless near the paint, but the rest of Todai wore tension clearly on their faces.
Touou had seized the rhythm.
If this continued, the game might be decided before halftime.
On the sidelines, Coach Shinkawa's expression darkened.
Before the match had truly begun, Todai's momentum was already being crushed.
His eyes settled on Ueno—locked in a one-on-one against Touou's ace.
The answer was obvious.
They needed a basket.
A single score—to break Touou's rhythm, to tear open this suffocating pressure.
And there was only one man who could do it.
Ueno Juri.
Not only Shinkawa noticed.
From the opposite bench, Coach Harasawa's gaze shifted as well, settling on the two figures at center stage.
Watching the immediate clash, Kise Ryota smiled with interest.
"I thought it'd take a few possessions before they met," he muttered.
"But they're going at it right from the start. This is fun."
Aside from Osaka's towering frame, Kise had little interest in Todai's other players.
They'd already lost control of the tempo.
What puzzled him was something else entirely.
Why did Ueno choose Todai in the first place?
Just then, two figures appeared behind him.
"So it just started?" a familiar voice asked.
Kise turned.
Kagami Taiga stood there with Kuroko Tetsuya beside him.
"Yeah," Kise replied, eyes returning to the court.
The two sat down, their expressions serious as they watched.
On the Court
Ueno tried to drive twice.
Both times, Aomine shut him down effortlessly.
Aomine's eyes sharpened.
"Show me your strongest."
Ueno exhaled slowly.
Then—
Animal Instinct: Activated.
A faint red gleam flashed through his eyes.
The world sharpened.
Sounds dulled.
Movements slowed.
Every muscle, every nerve screamed awareness.
Ueno shifted the ball to his left hand, angling toward Aomine's right.
Aomine frowned.
Too obvious.
He raised his arm to cut it off.
And in that instant—
Ueno dropped his center of gravity and exploded forward.
The ball skimmed the floor as he slipped under Aomine's raised arm, tearing past him.
Aomine froze.
"…That wasn't a feint?"
He turned instantly and gave chase, acceleration monstrous.
But Ueno was already inside the three-point line.
Aomine slid back into his path—
And Ueno stopped.
Dead stop.
In full sprint, he leaned back and released the ball in one smooth motion.
Formless Shot.
Aomine leapt, stretching his right arm to the limit.
Too late.
The ball arced cleanly overhead.
"Swish."
The net snapped sharply.
"Beep!"
"Basket counts."
Ueno didn't celebrate.
He didn't even look back.
He turned and sprinted into defense.
That possession had worked only because Aomine hadn't gone all out—and didn't yet understand his style.
Next time would be different.
"Nice shot, Ueno!"
"Well done!"
Miyara Ichi and the others burst into cheers, tension melting from their faces.
Todai's suffocating pressure vanished in an instant.
This—
This was what an ace did.
On the sideline, Coach Shinkawa clenched his fist, eyes blazing.
On the bench, Kurumatani Sora and the others were already shouting, waving wildly.
"So strong!"
"That's our ace!"
Touou's players, however, grew quiet.
One basket meant little.
But this basket—
Ace versus ace.
And Touou's ace had lost the exchange.
Coach Harasawa narrowed his eyes.
The shot felt… familiar.
Beside him, Momoi Satsuki whispered in shock.
"…Why does his style look exactly like Aomine's?"
Harasawa turned.
"Exactly like Aomine's?"
Momoi stiffened, then quickly corrected herself.
"I mean—his playing style."
Harasawa understood immediately.
Free movement.
Unrestricted rhythm.
Formless Shot.
That was Aomine Daiki's basketball.
Kagami's jaw tightened.
In his mind, he replayed the possession.
If I were Aomine… what would I have done?
The answer made his expression darken.
He'd have lost even worse.
Kise spoke quietly.
"…He's stronger than before."
Kuroko said nothing.
His gaze rested on Ueno Juri, calm and unreadable.
But something deep in his eyes stirred.