They couldn't stop him at all.
Araki Masako stood on the sidelines feeling a deep sense of helplessness.
The height advantage her lineup boasted hadn't come into play at all. Kirisaki Daiichi was shooting at a terrifying 80% field goal percentage.
Rebounds, blocks, points in the paint—those were supposed to be Yōsen's bread and butter.
But today, it was as if those weapons didn't exist.
Even worse—Yōsen's offense had completely stalled, smothered by Kirisaki Daiichi's defense.
She turned to look once again at No. 14, standing quietly near the top of the key.
He didn't move.
He didn't even seem to do anything.
But the pressure he exerted was unmistakable—his presence alone seemed to smother the entire court.
Yōsen on offense.
Once again, they were forced to operate outside the three-point arc.
Tendou stood alone in the paint.
Just one man.
And yet, he felt like a mountain—pressing down on every player in white.
Himuro took possession from a teammate.
He refused to give up without a fight.
He kept trying, again and again, to break through the double-team defense.
But Yamazaki and Furuhashi were relentless. And they didn't play fair.
Unable to penetrate the arc, Himuro was stuck in a passive, reactionary state.
From the stands, Kagami watched intently.
"…Tatsuya."
He could clearly see the struggle on his brother's face.
Because he himself had once experienced the same thing—being locked down so thoroughly it felt suffocating.
Alexandra Garcia was silent.
She truly hoped both of her disciples could flourish.
But...
"For Tatsuya, Tendou is simply too much of a challenge," she murmured.
Himuro wasn't weak.
It was just that the opponent was far too strong.
Tendou belonged to the same realm as Steve Nash—a true basketball prodigy.
A top-level talent by global standards.
Destined to become a star.
As the shot clock wound down, Himuro was forced to shoot.
Furuhashi leapt first.
Yamazaki followed a split second later.
The Mirage Shot—a move ideal for one-on-one—was useless against two defenders.
Smack!
Yamazaki swatted the ball cleanly out of the air.
Himuro flinched.
His heart sank.
"First attempt, and the Mirage Shot is broken already… Kirisaki Daiichi's adjustments really are sharp."
"Yeah. From putting Tendou at the five, to the double-team defense—it's all happening way too fast."
Yōsen had been thoroughly analyzed and dismantled.
The ball hit the floor.
Kirisaki Daiichi's counterattack began.
The decision to sub in Furuhashi Kōjirō for Seto Kentaro had paid off immediately.
Tendou surged forward with the ball.
In front of him, four passing options opened up.
Seto wasn't a slow, bulky center—but at the end of the day, he was still a true five. He couldn't keep up with the pace of this small-ball lineup.
More passing options meant more scoring opportunities.
Fwoosh!
Tendou whipped the ball forward like a laser.
It sliced through the air and landed perfectly in Furuhashi's hands.
Murasakibara was still watching Tendou.
Yōsen's two big men were a beat too slow.
With just Fukui and Himuro scrambling back, they couldn't form a proper defensive line.
Furuhashi took one dribble, adjusted, and nailed a wide-open mid-range jumper.
Kirisaki Daiichi had completely seized back control of the game's rhythm.
Yōsen looked clearly uncomfortable facing the new formation.
In the second quarter alone, Kirisaki had already scored two consecutive fast-breaks.
Tweet—!
The whistle blew.
Araki Masako called timeout.
The lead had now stretched into double digits.
If they didn't stop the bleeding now, Kirisaki might bury them in a single run.
But… what should she do?
She felt that if Yōsen lost today, the blame would be hers.
She was a legitimate, licensed basketball coach—yet her preparation had been outclassed by two teenage boys.
And her failure to adapt had pushed the team into a corner.
"Coach… I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I didn't prepare well enough. That's on me."
She waved off Himuro's guilt.
But even so… how were they supposed to get out of this?
Especially when it came to Murasakibara Atsushi.
She knew him well.
And at this point in the match, he was probably already spiraling.
His mantra had always been:
"Basketball is a sport where talent decides everything. If you can't win now, you never will."
But surprisingly, Murasakibara hadn't given up.
He was lying on the bench, a towel draped over his face.
In his mind, memories started to resurface.
Why did I start playing basketball in the first place?
If he remembered correctly, it was back in elementary school.
Some random adult spotted him and dragged him to a basketball club—didn't even ask.
He did okay.
Actually, he dominated right from the start.
Even as a beginner, he crushed opponents who'd trained way longer than him.
He was bored anyway—so he just kept playing.
Then he entered middle school.
Teikō.
It was nothing like elementary school.
There were a lot of guys who were strong—even he had to admit it.
Tendou. Aomine. Akashi. Midorima. Kise. Haizaki. Even Kuroko.
All monsters.
Playing with them made everything effortless.
He felt at ease in Teikō.
He didn't like thinking.
Wasn't good at it.
But the team was full of brains—he just followed them and played his role.
It started with Tendou—he'd played with him the longest.
Tendou always blew away the opposition.
By the time Murasakibara got on court, things were already settled.
He just had to grab rebounds, dunk, and be a wall.
That was enough.
For three full years, he followed those guys around, doing just that.
No matter what happened, they always had it covered.
Even though he was bigger, stronger—he should've been the one protecting them.
"It's time to grow up, Atsushi."
Tendou's words echoed again in his mind.
Grow up?
Wasn't he already big enough?
After all, he was over 2 meters tall, weighed 99 kilos…
He was bigger than anyone else.
He pulled the towel off his face and looked at the dejected bench.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
It reminded him of that time in second year of middle school.
Everything used to be so lively, and then… the gym suddenly felt empty.
The people were still there—but the feeling had changed.
He hated this kind of atmosphere.
He hated seeing his team like this.
...
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