"What a pity, Murasakibara… It's over."
On the court, Akashi leapt into the air. The gap between his height and his vertical jump was almost shocking.
Right in front of him, Murasakibara raised his hands high, glaring at Akashi with unwilling eyes.
Normally, with Murasakibara's athleticism and natural talent, there was no such thing as "unable to block this shot."
Unfortunately… after exhausting himself during the second half of the third quarter and then pushing his body into the Zone in the fourth, his legs were trembling so badly that even walking had become difficult. Jumping to contest a dunk? Out of the question.
On the sideline, Kota pressed his lips together, staring at the final moment of this clash. Rakuzan inbounded from half-court, Akashi drove past the defense and soared at the rim—throwing down the dunk right over Murasakibara!
170 cm dunking over 208 cm.
With a thunderous bang, the scoreboard's timer simultaneously hit zero.
119–117. Final score: Rakuzan wins.
"Just one step short…"
....
"The first round of the Interhigh is officially over!"
"As expected, according to most basketball bloggers and fan polls, the results came with no surprises. But one game stood out: Rakuzan vs. Yosen. Many fans agreed that Yosen fought incredibly well. They may have lost, but they went down with honor. Let's take a look at the highlights of this battle!"
At Shark Gym, the basketball talk show "Basketball Time" was playing.
This time, Kota and Araki were both sitting on the couch, watching.
The highlights rolled: Kise and Kota's alley-oop reverse dunk, Kagami and Kuroko's full-court connection, Aomine toying with five defenders before floating in a bucket…
Of course, Akashi's ankle-breaking crossover on Himuro and Himuro's clutch fadeaway jumper were also included.
The reel ended with Akashi's dunk over Murasakibara.
"Yare yare… This play was voted one of the Top 10 highlights of the Interhigh!" Kota sighed. "And trust me, it ranked a lot higher than #10."
Araki said nothing, staring at the scoreboard on the TV: 119–117. Yosen defeated.
Kota sneaked a glance at her face, but her poker expression gave away nothing. Still, even without looking, he knew she had to be hurting inside.
In those final moments, Murasakibara attacked Rakuzan's paint relentlessly, carrying the entire team's offense on his shoulders like a true ace.
With 30 seconds left and Yosen trailing by three, Himuro stepped up—right corner, drifting three-pointer over two defenders. Swish! Tie game.
Everyone thought fate was smiling on Yosen. Himuro's three-point shooting had been mediocre the whole game, but at that instant, he buried a miracle shot.
But then… as if to remind everyone he was "God" on the court, Akashi proved his dominance once again. His title as "Captain of the Generation of Miracles" wasn't just because of family wealth.
On Rakuzan's final possession, Akashi read Murasakibara's condition perfectly. The purple giant's tank was empty.
And so came the miracle: 170 cm dunking over 208 cm! If Akashi wasn't 100% certain Murasakibara couldn't jump, no way would he have dared to try.
Kota had noticed it too. But even though Yosen still had timeouts left, he didn't pull Murasakibara out.
Because honestly, putting in a bench player would've only boosted Rakuzan's confidence. Better to leave Atsushi on the court as an imposing figure, even if he was on his last legs.
Just like in the "Second Miracle Gathering" card game—no matter how skilled the player, you still need the right cards.
Once again, Kota's battle against Akashi ended in defeat.
"…Come to think of it, I've never beaten Akashi outside the finals" he muttered, rubbing his chin.
Just then, the screen shifted again, showing the bracket for the quarterfinals.
Second Round –
Game 1: Rakuzan vs. XX High
Game 2: Tōō Academy vs. XX High
Game 3: Shūtoku vs. XX High
Three Miracles teams all drawing weaker opponents.
Kota frowned and sighed. Six quarterfinal slots were already clear. The last matchup was obvious.
"Man… Quarterfinals look brutal this year."
And right on cue, the fourth matchup appeared:
Second Round – Game 4: Kaijō vs. Seirin!
The moment the bracket went public, the internet exploded. Last year's champion and runner-up meeting in the quarterfinals—it was like the finals were coming early!
Araki scrolled on her phone. "There are already prediction videos about your game with Seirin."
"Huh?" Kota blinked.
She handed him the phone. On screen, a guy wearing a raccoon mask was talking confidently.
"Kaijō vs. Seirin? I'd say 70–30 in Kaijō's favor. Last year's Winter Cup final already told us everything! Pure firepower, Kaijō is superior. Forget Kise fouling out in the fourth—just look at Kota's clutch isolation plays. Seirin couldn't stop him!"
The blogger went on, listing all the ways Seirin was supposedly weaker. He even gave Kaijō "strategic tips" like starting man-to-man pressure or targeting Kuroko in isolation.
Kota chuckled. "Man, everyone's a tactical genius on the internet. If it were really that easy, we wouldn't have struggled so much last year."
Sure, man-to-man might work against Seirin, but starting it from the first quarter? By the third or fourth, Kaijō would collapse from exhaustion.
And as for "targeting Kuroko"—in theory, yes, he had the lowest stats of the Miracles. Even weaker than some average players.
But the Phantom Sixth Man's true strength was his unpredictable style. Without anyone in Kaijō having "special vision," just guarding against his steals was already mentally draining. Attacking him directly? Half the time you couldn't even see where he was!
Still, while Kota dismissed it as 90% nonsense, the internet lapped it up. The few Kaijō fans who knew better got drowned out in the comments.
Meanwhile, Seirin fans fired back with their own takes, and before long, both sides were at each other's throats online.
For small-time bloggers, this was perfect—fan wars meant views, and views meant money.
Of course, not every blogger relied on stirring drama. Big names like Bobo, the most popular basketball streamer, stayed neutral.
"Kaijō vs. Seirin? Hmm… hard to say, really hard to say, brothers. But one thing's certain—it's gonna be hype! Don't miss it!"
His fence-sitting calmed things down a little.
But then… that same "70–30 Kaijō" blogger dropped another bomb after "analyzing" the bracket all night.
"Look at the schedule. If Kaijō beats Seirin, they'll face Shūtoku. Meanwhile, Rakuzan has it easy—second round against a no-name team, then a semifinal with Tōō. While Kaijō is sweating blood, Rakuzan gets to chill and reap the rewards. That's why my prediction for this year's champion is—Rakuzan!"
The internet promptly exploded again.
With Yosen eliminated, the other five Miracles teams' fans went to war in the comments.
At first, everyone attacked the blogger. But soon the debate turned into fanbase vs. fanbase, dragging all five teams into chaos.
"Trash blogger! The bracket is random. Everyone gets tough draws sometimes. Why's Rakuzan automatically 'lucky'?"
"Say what you want, but it's true! Look at Kaijō's path compared to Rakuzan's. Way harder!"
"Oh please, Shūtoku weaker than Tōō? Midorima's just a three-point spammer. Aomine wipes the floor with him."
"Excuse me? Did you even watch the Tokyo prelims? Shūtoku stomped Tōō by 20! If you can't afford tickets, at least watch the free replays before talking nonsense."
....
Such was the chaos online—utter pandemonium everywhere.
But as one of the key figures in the middle of all this noise, Kota didn't waste a second worrying about the fan wars. On the night before the big game, he was right where he always was: grinding away at Shark Gym.
Huff—
Letting out a long exhale, Kota racked the barbell back onto the bench press.
[96 kilos… so that's my limit for now.]
Thanks to Araki's careful diet plan, Kota's weight had settled at around 80kg. At this stage, that number was perfect—light enough to keep his speed, but heavy enough to fully maximize his physical advantage and contact game.
Compared to his weight, benching 96kg put him right on the line between a serious hobbyist and an actual pro. Of course, Kota wasn't training to become a bodybuilder; all of this was for basketball. Still, the fact that he was pushing close to professional strength numbers showed there was plenty of room to grow.
As he sat on the bench, chest still burning from the workout, Araki walked over.
Just like Kota, she had just finished her own set of squats. Sweat was trickling down her neck, soaking into the collar of her yoga top, radiating a raw athletic charm.
"You've been online at all? You guys are right at the center of the storm," she said, waving her phone.
Since Yosen had been eliminated early this year, Araki was effectively on break from her coaching duties. Recently, she had gotten hooked on basketball talk shows, so of course she'd heard about all the online chaos.
Kota wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Yeah, I've seen it."
"Players respect each other, fans go to war, huh."
He chuckled. Just last night, the Generation of Miracles had been laughing about it in their group chat.
Akashi: The buzzing of ants. Not worth listening to.
Aomine: Let them say what they want. But calling Tōō just a stepping stone for Rakuzan? They're underestimating me way too much.
Kagami: Damn right! And that clown saying Kaijo's only got a 30% chance? I'm still mad!
Midorima: Gemini are prone to verbal disputes this week. Don't waste your energy.
Kise: Do-do-do! This year's champs are heeere~
Murasakibara: A new yakiniku place opened up on the east side. Anyone wanna go?
Kuroko: (silently lurking)
Kota: (posts the "old man on the subway" meme)
Despite being the center of the online drama, every single one of them had the same silent agreement: no reactions, no statements.
No matter how wild the arguments got online, nothing could shake their focus on the court.
When the second round began, the first three games went exactly as expected—the three Miracle-led teams breezed through without suspense. But the fourth game, Kaijo vs. Seirin, turned out nothing like the "hard-fought battle" so many experts had predicted.
The same Seirin team that had toppled Rakuzan last year and pushed Kaijo to a four-quarter war in the finals looked completely off their game.
Not only did they fail to break into "beyond the Zone", but apart from Kuroko, Seirin's starters looked… lost.
Kagami, in particular, was shut down yet again. Under Kaijo's targeted defense, he struggled to even pull the trigger. His first-half shooting line? A brutal 2-for-8. Kise swatted away his drives like they were nothing, and even his mid-range shots kept clanging. Out of desperation, he even jacked up two threes.
One bricked, the other was a full-on airball.
At the first-quarter break, sitting on Kaijo's bench, Kota could literally hear Riko screaming at her players all the way across the court.
In the second quarter, Seirin clearly tried to find their rhythm—but Kaijo weren't about to show mercy.
Play fair and let them recover? Or crush them while they were down?
You didn't need to ask twice.
Under Kota's orchestration, Kaijo's offense hit like a tidal wave. By halftime, they had blown the game wide open.
61–38. Kaijo up by 23.
During the break, Kise just stared at the scoreboard, jaw dropped. He even asked Kota to pinch him to make sure it wasn't a dream.
It wasn't just Kise—everyone on Kaijo felt a little unreal about it.
How could the team that sent Akashi packing last year and nearly knocked Kaijo out… be this fragile today? Impossible, right?
But Kota had his suspicions.
After all, Seirin was still a baby of a team—barely three years old. Sure, fate (and maybe a little "protagonist aura") had brought together five insanely talented players, but their foundation was still paper-thin.
Every other quarterfinal team had been grinding in the national scene for decades. Seirin? They didn't even have a basketball program three years ago.
In their early years, they were carried by hunger, unity, and sheer grit—enough to reach the runner-up spot at Interhigh in only two and a half years. Incredible.
But Miracles don't last forever. This wasn't "Kuroko's Basketball" — they weren't the main characters here.
So when their lack of foundation finally showed, inconsistency was inevitable. This just happened to be the year it hit.
Final score: 107–95. Kaijo wins.
Seirin did claw back some pride in the second half, finding their rhythm again and putting up a respectable fight. But by then, it was too late.
Kaijo's first-half lead was too much to overcome. The fourth quarter was nothing but a tug-of-war, the suspense long gone.
Second Round, Game Four: Kaijo advances!