Himuro's "Zone" belonged to the mortal tier. Unlike Kagami and the others, he didn't feel that sensation of sinking into a pool of water. The boost he got from the Zone wasn't the highest, nor did it allow him to glimpse the state "beyond the Zone".
But mortals also had their advantages. After seeing countless geniuses flaunt their monstrous talents, ordinary players weren't so easily broken by setbacks.
Even after being shaken to the ground by Akashi, Himuro didn't collapse out of the Zone like Kagami once had.
"Cho-senpai, I'm fine."
Himuro reached out, took the ball back from Cho, and nodded to reassure him. Then his eyes locked on Akashi, who was standing calmly across the court, looking as relaxed as ever.
"This monster… he's nothing like how Kota described him."
Himuro pressed his lips together, frustration bubbling inside. Even so, giving up wasn't in the cards.
Raising a hand, he signaled for the court to clear out. He decided to stick with Kota's plan—go one-on-one.
Against Rakuzan, who had already entered a full Team Zone, trying to beat them as a group was a fantasy.
The only realistic option was to let Yōsen's one and only Zone user — Himuro — go iso.
And truth be told, Kota wasn't wrong about one thing.
With Akashi barely hitting 170 cm, there wasn't much he could do against Himuro's super jump shot.
Once the "Emperor Eye" couldn't force a steal, Akashi had no choice but to switch off on defense—or risk becoming Himuro's personal ATM.
But even Rakuzan's other players didn't have a solid way to stop him either.
And so, the buzzer for halftime rang with the score still tight.
60–56, Rakuzan leading.
On the surface, it looked evenly matched, but Kota knew all too well that this fragile balance wouldn't last.
Himuro had carried the offense almost single-handedly, keeping the game within reach. It was impressive—but…
He was completely gassed. Now, bent over with both elbows on his knees, his head hung low as he gulped for air.
On Rakuzan's bench, Shirogane glanced at Himuro's worn-out figure and secretly exhaled in relief.
For a moment, he'd worried this kid would go full berserk mode and blow the game wide open. But in the end, human bodies still had limits.
"Good rhythm right now. Keep it up. On court, listen to Akashi for the details."
"Got it!"
Unlike Shirogane, who handed full control over to Akashi, Kota was hands-on as Yōsen's acting coach, carefully plotting their adjustments.
"In the second half, aside from Himuro, everyone else needs to start shooting. You've been running back and forth for two whole quarters—it's about time you scored some points."
Kota tapped the tactics board, scanning his teammates. "Feed the ball inside to Murasakibara. All shooters on the perimeter, be ready. I want to see you taking shots decisively when the chance comes."
After two quarters of cruising, it was finally Murasakibara's turn to get unleashed. True, expecting him to go all-out for two full quarters wasn't realistic, but hey—if you're gonna challenge the top dogs, there's no holding back.
"And Himuro—you're staying on the floor all four quarters."
"…NANI???"
Kota's words were immediately met with Cho's protest.
He pointed at Himuro, who was still wheezing, and snapped, "Look at him! He's completely spent. Even if he stays out there, he won't be able to score. Shouldn't we sub him out for a breather?"
Nagase's suggestion made sense. Himuro was drained, clearly not in the best condition to continue. But—
"I refuse."
Kota's expression was calm, his tone flat. As soon as he said it, Himuro raised his head, forcing himself to sound steady. "I'm fine. I'll follow Coach… Kota's orders."
"Wait, what?! This is insane, Coach!"
Cho cried out again, turning to Araki for support. If anyone could override Kota, it was the team's official coach.
But—
Stare—
Araki met Cho's eyes for a second, then immediately looked away, suddenly fascinated by a random spectator in the stands.
Cho: "…"
"Um… Cho-senpai, maybe we should just trust him. I feel like if we do, we can really win this time!"
"Yeah, yeah! Beating the captain of the Generation of Miracles? I'd go crazy with joy!"
It wasn't just Araki. Most of Yōsen had already come to believe in Kota. After Akashi's terrifying display in the second quarter, despair had nearly crushed them. And yet Kota's crazy-looking adjustments had turned the tide.
How could they not trust him now?
In the end, even the worried Cho had to nod in reluctant agreement.
Truthfully, Kota hadn't made this call on impulse. He'd thought it through.
Whether it was Himuro's surprise entry into the Zone, or his clutch scoring at the end of the half, both had shaken Rakuzan's so-called guaranteed victory.
So in the second half, even if Himuro just stood in the corner smoking a cigarette, Rakuzan would still need someone glued to him—holding the ashtray.
After laying out a few more details, Kota clapped his hands together, looked around at the Yōsen players, and said:
"Okay, that's all from me. Remember — if you wanna beat Rakuzan in the second half, then you'd better play like your lives depend on it!"
"Yes, sir!!"
Kota's style of motivation wasn't conventional, but it hit exactly where it needed to. Even though Rakuzan's five still had lightning flashing in their eyes, the players of Yōsen showed not an ounce of fear.
...
Third Quarter
Following Kota's tactics, Yōsen's shooters all spread far from the paint, opening up the floor completely. Inside, only Murasakibara was left to attack near the rim.
At first, the effect was obvious. Even Nebuya in the Zone struggled to hold back this purple-haired giant under the basket.
And if any Rakuzan player tried stepping inside to help double-team, Murasakibara would immediately dish the ball back out, creating easy scoring chances for Yōsen's perimeter shooters.
Unlike a traditional big man, Murasakibara wasn't stuck with the usual clunky weaknesses. Sure, he had no shooting range, but his passing and even his dribble drives were top class. That's why Kota had the confidence to run a four-out, one-in formation around him!
But the good times didn't last long. Akashi wasn't the type to sit back and watch his rim get shredded. Just three possessions later, he decisively switched with Nebuya—he would guard Murasakibara himself!
For someone barely hitting 170 cm to volunteer to defend a 208 cm monster at center — that wasn't courage. That was insanity.
But Akashi was no ordinary human.
When Murasakibara sealed position, caught the ball, and spun to go up for a monster dunk—Akashi picked his pocket clean.
On the bench, Kota buried his head in his hands with a bitter smile.
"A 2.08m monster, and you're telling me you'll just defend him? Ever heard of basketball common sense? Or basic human anatomy?"
Kota's complaints didn't change a thing. For the rest of the third quarter, Murasakibara couldn't score a single point on Akashi. Over and over again, he had perfect position, chances so obvious even a blind man would call it a sure bucket—but Akashi always stripped him.
The "Emperor Eye" was simply too broken. Against any opponent not on his level, Akashi could cleanly steal the ball, leaving no chance for a counter.
Fortunately, late in the third quarter, Himuro finally got a breather. Seeing the widening gap on the scoreboard, he gritted his teeth and nailed two huge jumpers from deep, reigniting the Zone he'd tapped into earlier.
Before the fourth quarter began, Yōsen had cut the lead back to under double digits.
77–68, Rakuzan ahead.
Yōsen still had a chance, but…
Kota sighed inwardly, glancing at the slouched Murasakibara on the bench.
"Come on, Murasakibara. If you don't explode into the Zone soon, we're about to hit GG screen."
Motivating the big guy wasn't easy. Pep talks worked wonders on Himuro, but on Murasakibara? About as effective as yelling at a vending machine.
"So… competitiveness is out. Murasakibara already respects Akashi's strength—being shut down won't bother him. That means… the only option left is… making Himuro cry?"
Kota nearly scared himself with the thought. He looked at Himuro's calm face, lost in silence.
"If I make Himuro cry right now, sure, maybe Murasakibara awakens—but then I get ejected, and Yōsen's morale tanks. Not worth it."
He shook his head in regret.
Just then, Himuro sat down beside Murasakibara.
"Tired, Atsushi?"
His voice was calm and gentle, his refined look instantly softening the big man.
"Ughh… Tatsuya, I'm so tired…"
Murasakibara groaned, yanked a towel over his head, and slumped down, his nose twitching under the lights.
"Atsushi."
Lifting one corner of the towel, Himuro offered him a snack.
A cereal bar—Murasakibara's favorite flavor.
Normally, snacks were strictly forbidden during games—thanks to Araki's iron rule after Murasakibara once ate so much mid-game he slowed down. But since Himuro was the one giving it, Araki pretended not to see.
Kota, however, was stunned. Watching Himuro, admiration flickered in his eyes.
"Didn't think you had it in you. Guess you're a master at taming our Ace, huh?"
When Murasakibara finished eating, Himuro smiled. "Good?"
"Mm."
Murasakibara hummed in reply, tossed off his towel, and cracked his neck loudly.
"Coach, can I borrow a hair tie?"
"Eh?" Araki blinked, then tossed him one from her pocket.
Slowly, Murasakibara tied his long hair back into a samurai knot. Without his bangs covering his eyes, he squinted against the bright lights—but his gaze was sharper, scarier than ever.
BEEP—!
The start of the fourth quarter.
"Let's go."
For the first time, it wasn't Kota or Himuro leading the charge — it was Murasakibara. The lazy giant, usually trailing at the back, now walked onto the court first. Himuro followed close behind, then the rest of Yōsen.
Kota whistled from the bench, grinning.
"Not quite how I imagined it, but… Yōsen's ultimate form is finally here."
Yōsen inbound.
Cho dribbled carefully across half court, directing traffic with his usual over-the-top gestures. Himuro took position in the corner, observing the play.
And this time, he could fully trust his teammates—because Murasakibara was no longer the same.
"Ball here!"
For once, Murasakibara shouted loudly, sealing Akashi deep inside. His move was identical to the third quarter—using his size to pin Akashi down, then demanding the ball.
Everything looked the same: positioning, spacing, play setup. The only difference was… his hair.
Akashi stayed calm, waiting for his chance. Even he couldn't steal the ball the moment Murasakibara had sealed him. His shot was always in the moment the big man turned.
Like a script, Murasakibara caught the pass, spun, and leapt toward the rim.
Akashi's pupils contracted. The Emperor Eye had already read the move!
"Too bad, Atsushi."
His right hand lashed out, smacking the ball—
—but this time, it didn't end the same way.
Midair, Murasakibara's body stalled as the ball shifted in his hands. Then, in an instant, he clamped it back with both palms.
"Urrrghhh!!"
With a roar, he dragged his unstable body upward and slammed the ball through with both hands.
The rim rattled violently, groaning under the pressure as Murasakibara hung for a second before dropping. The crowd erupted—the dunk wasn't just powerful, it was pure shock value.
Kota was the first to leap off the bench, screaming in celebration.
The arena went wild. Just like when Akashi had broken Himuro earlier, but this time the effect was even greater. Watching a giant stall midair then still cram the dunk—who wouldn't get hyped?
Yōsen's players swarmed around Murasakibara, releasing their pent-up emotions. Meanwhile, his own face stayed calm, eyes blazing violet sparks.
"…Atsushi, you too? You've entered the Zone?"
Even Akashi faltered for a second. But of all people, he understood Murasakibara's hidden talent best.
"Yeah. I don't know how, but… this time, I don't wanna lose."
Murasakibara clenched his fists, faint traces of cereal bar still lingering on his lips.
77–70. Rakuzan still led, but only by 7.
"This is the chance Himuro fought for. I won't let it slip away."
His fists tightened, flames of battle igniting in his sharp eyes. Himuro stepped behind him, his own blue spark reignited after the rest.
"I'm proud of your growth, Atsushi. But…"
Akashi covered his right eye. His left iris turned golden, and behind him Rakuzan's players reentered Team Zone.
"Victory is mine alone. Absolute."
"I… am absolute!"
Meanwhile, Indonesia.
At a random street stall, a pale-faced Asian youth looked half-dead as a sharp-eyed Black man barked at him.
"&￥|LWJSH/;."
"SJDHSI@#^*｛!"
"…I told you, I don't understand you! What do you even want from me?!"
"DAMN IT ALL!!!"