Mirage Shot.
One of Alexandra Garcia's two signature skills.
To surpass Kagami Taiga, Himuro Tatsuya had trained endlessly to master it.
It was supposed to be his secret weapon—the key to challenging a true prodigy.
But now, it had become the very thing that broke his heart.
Tendou Kageyoshi, leader of the Generation of Miracles.
Former captain of his own teammate, Murasakibara Atsushi.
In just a few days—possibly not even that—he had stolen and mastered the shot Himuro had spent years perfecting through tireless repetition.
In that moment, the world just felt unfair.
...
Yōsen quickly called a timeout.
So far, their only field goal had come from Murasakibara.
And their once-unshakable defense?
It had been reduced to a laughingstock by an opponent shooting 100% from the field.
At this pace—Yōsen had zero chance of winning.
...
"We had a terrible start—but it's fine. There's still plenty of time," Araki Masako said, trying to keep spirits up.
"As long as we get our defense in order, we'll flip the score in no time."
"For now, we need to slow the pace down. Get the ball into the paint. Focus on efficiency. Control the tempo."
This wasn't wishful thinking—she could see how demoralized the team was, especially Himuro.
Ever since Tendou pulled off the Mirage Shot, Himuro had been visibly shaken, mentally adrift.
But Araki didn't have time to comfort him.
She had more pressing problems to solve.
Starting with Murasakibara.
She needed him to follow her strategy.
Inside-out basketball.
Get the ball inside, draw the defense, then kick it back out—then repeat the cycle.
It was Yōsen's true trump card, and they had the personnel to pull it off.
Back when Michael Jordan retired, the Houston Rockets won back-to-back titles using this exact approach.
They had Hakeem Olajuwon, the best center in the league, and Clyde Drexler, one of the best shooting guards.
Yōsen had the best center—Murasakibara Atsushi. His interior presence was elite.
As for Himuro? He wasn't quite at Drexler's level, but excluding the Generation of Miracles, he was still one of the best guards available.
And Drexler at that point in his career was past his prime.
So as long as Murasakibara held up his end, this system could work.
...
"You hear that, Atsushi?! If you're too scared, I'll give the role to Fukui!"
A clumsy taunt—but it got the job done.
"I'm not scared! What's the big deal? Just pass it out, right?"
Murasakibara muttered, dragging Fukui into the mix with his deadpan sarcasm.
Fukui felt like crying but held his tongue—this was just how Murasakibara was.
Despite his usual lazy attitude, Yōsen knew—deep down, Murasakibara had a fierce desire to win.
He absolutely hated losing.
...
Game resumed.
And Yōsen's adjustments showed immediate results.
On their first possession, Murasakibara bulldozed his way into the paint and once again forced a full-body collision with Tendou.
BOOM!
The sound of flesh and bone clashing echoed through the stadium, like the roar of colliding steel titans.
"Atsushi!"
Himuro rushed over to support.
Murasakibara gritted his teeth and tossed the ball toward him.
"You're not getting away with that!"
Yamazaki lunged to contest the shot.
But just like before, the ball passed cleanly through the air and into the net.
Another Mirage Shot.
...
Mirage, or kagerou in Japanese, is an optical illusion often seen in hot, windless weather—like shimmering water on a road.
But in this case, the word also meant something else.
In Japanese, kagerou can also refer to a phantom, something elusive and impossible to grasp.
...
Yamazaki had no way to defend against it.
Swish!
The shot went in.
Yōsen had finally found a way to break through.
"Persistent, aren't they..."
Tendou exhaled softly.
Kirisaki Daiichi's players were strong—but they weren't quite at Himuro's level in certain areas.
If Haizaki had been on the active roster, Yōsen would've been crushed by now.
"You're not Tendou. You can't stop me alone."
Himuro's voice was calm—but his confidence was back.
After all, he'd always known he was ordinary.
Even if it hurt, he'd long accepted it.
He'd accepted that he was no match for someone like Tendou.
But Hanamiya wasn't about to let that go unnoticed.
"Wow, gave up already?" he sneered.
"Weren't you just talking about taking down that bastard Tendou?"
"You're even worse than your idiot little brother. At least he doesn't give up so easily."
His words were toxic—every line a dagger to Himuro's chest.
Himuro clenched his fists and turned silently to run back on defense.
...
BEEP!
The first quarter ended.
Score: 28–20.
Kirisaki Daiichi led Yōsen by 8 points.
Ever since Yōsen had switched to their inside-out strategy, their offense had found its rhythm.
The game was now a tightly contested battle.
...
In the team huddle, Araki gave her players high praise—especially Murasakibara, calling him her "big kid."
Murasakibara mumbled about it being annoying, but he was clearly happy.
If only things could stay this simple.
He wasn't dumb.
He knew exactly how strong his old friend was.
Just like Tendou had said earlier—
They'd been together from day one.
They were both chosen by coach Shirogane to anchor the paint for Teikō—one on the inside, one on the perimeter.
Scrimmages.
Practice matches.
Official games.
They'd always fought side by side.
His memories of Tendou were vivid—always standing on his right.
As long as Tendou was there, he never had to overthink.
Just rebound, score, and do his part.
But now…
He was alone.
...
"If this keeps up, we're in trouble."
Back on Kirisaki's bench, things weren't as comfortable as the score suggested.
Sure, they were ahead—but that was because of Tendou's passing, which opened up every lane.
Tendou had 12 points and 5 assists in the first quarter.
Of their 28 points, 22 had come directly from him.
"No joke. Without Tendou, I'd have no idea how to break their defense," Seto Kentaro said, wiping sweat from his brow.
He had played a decent first quarter, scoring 6 points.
But he knew the truth.
Every time he went up against Murasakibara, he got shoved around like a training dummy.
He was already black and blue all over.
"Are we keeping the same approach for the second quarter?"
The team looked to Tendou and Hanamiya—their twin leaders.
"Turn up the intensity," Hanamiya said.
He believed in violence as a playstyle.
Tendou had no objections.
Hard-nosed defense was Kirisaki Daiichi's identity.
But in addition to that…
"We'll make a lineup change," Tendou added.
"Kojirō—you're in for the second quarter."
Furuhashi Kōjirō looked up, his expression blank as ever, dead fish eyes wide open.
"Hm? Who am I replacing?"
"Seto," Tendou replied.
"Got it. Wait—what?"
The whole team blinked in surprise.
Seto Kentaro was getting subbed out?
Who was going to hold down the paint now?
No way...
Everyone turned to Tendou at once.
...
[Vote With Your Power Stones For Bonus Chapters]
[Check My Patreon For Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!!]
[patréon.com/RoseWhisky]