Kota leaned over the railing, watching Araki down below as she packed up her things.
Only a few minutes earlier, Yōsen's match against Tōō had ended — marking the conclusion of all second-round games of the Winter Cup main tournament.
The organizers had already released the matchups for Round Three.
Kaijō vs… Fukuda Sōgō.
Kota rubbed his chin, hesitated briefly, then pulled out his phone and made a call.
Ring—
"Hello, am I speaking to the heir of the Akashi family, Lord Seijuro himself?"
Kota's tone carried obvious sarcasm, and on the other side Akashi clearly wasn't used to being addressed that way by him.
"…What do you want?"
Akashi kept it short.
Kota raised an eyebrow and stopped beating around the bush.
"You saw the third-round matchups, right?"
"Kaijō vs Fukuda Sōgō. For the two games I'm suspended, the opponent's a bit too weak, don't you think?"
His wording hinted heavily at something, but Akashi seemed unfazed. "Isn't that a good thing? If Kaijō loses because of your suspension, their fans will tear you apart."
"Well… you're not wrong."
Kota shrugged, turned around, and leaned back against the railing.
"So? Did you rig the brackets, Akashi?"
"Two consecutive weak draws—not even Rakuzan, not even Seirin, not even one proper threat. Unless we're blaming a miracle or some cosmic coincidence, the only explanation left is… a little backstage 'arrangement,' right?"
Kota lowered his eyes, focusing on Akashi's tone, trying to judge whether his guess was correct.
But Akashi didn't give him the chance.
He hung up immediately.
Beep—
Kota stared at his phone with dead-fish eyes. "This guy…"
"So he did rig it, huh?"
He hadn't said it outright, but Akashi's reaction said enough.
At that moment, Araki — having just led Yōsen to victory over Tōō — finished packing up and walked over.
She expertly tossed her bag straight into Kota's arms and asked, "Where to?"
Maybe it was the afterglow of victory, but Araki's mood seemed uncharacteristically good.
Kota thought for a second. "Back to Shark Gym. I haven't had dinner yet. I want steak, Miss Masako."
Yako glanced at him without objecting—basically a silent yes.
"Did they publish the third-round lineup?"
"Yeah. You guys are up against Shūtoku."
Kota scrolled the matchups and handed the phone to her.
"Shūtoku… that team with the zodiac-obsessed glasses guy who drains threes?"
Yako frowned slightly, calculating Yōsen's chances. Just then, her eyes moved to another part of the bracket.
"Kaijō… vs Fukuda Sōgō?"
She looked up at Kota. "Akashi rigged it?"
"Who knows? Maybe?"
Kota shrugged ambiguously.
Yako gave him a side-eye. "You and Akashi sure have a good relationship."
Kota: ???"…What the heck are you imagining?"
Completely done with her assumptions, he yawned. "I can more or less guess what he's thinking."
He wants revenge on a full-power Kaijō—so he won't allow us to exit the tournament early, huh?
Should I call it being meticulous… or just control-freak behavior?
Kota grabbed Yako's bag and slung it over his back, smiling. "Anyway, this time… you're gonna lose pretty badly."
"Kaijō this year? They're straight-up monstrous."
… …
Compared to the Interhigh, the Winter Cup schedule was much tighter, and Round Three began quickly.
Since Shūtoku had drawn a bye in Round Two, the first match of Round Three was Yōsen vs Shūtoku.
The entire game was a deadlock. Yōsen's iron-blooded interior defense meant nothing to Midorima… but with Murasakibara dominating inside and Himuro handling the perimeter, their inside-outside balance still tore through Shūtoku's defense for easy points.
Yōsen—usually known for defense—was forced into becoming an offensive team just to keep up.
Araki re-implemented the lineup Kota once used when he temporarily coached Yōsen:
A one-star, four-shooter system built around Murasakibara.
The teams remained neck-and-neck into the second half of the fourth quarter. Sadly for Yōsen, Murasakibara didn't carry over his previous form—he never entered the Zone.
Himuro, however, remained stable as ever and entered the Zone in the fourth quarter, scoring 33 points—second only to Midorima.
But still…
127–126. Yōsen lost.
Midorima's 100% high-difficulty threes were practically nuclear weapons at the end of a game.
When everyone else's stamina hit rock bottom, Midorima became a scoring machine—jumping, releasing, landing—each shot dropping perfectly and adding three more to Shūtoku's score.
Against a player of that caliber, you absolutely cannot give him a last-quarter opening. Otherwise, you learn the true meaning of despair.
Shūtoku won the first match of Round Three.
Rakuzan then faced an old powerhouse. Even while Akashi held back a little, Rakuzan still crushed them and advanced.
The final match of Round Three: Kaijō vs Fukuda Sōgō.
This year, Haizaki no longer had his dumpster-haircut look. Maybe he finally understood that "hairstyle is justice" because he returned to his silver, chaotic middle-school visual kei style.
But against Kaijō, Fukuda Sōgō was doomed from the start.
Even with Kota missing, Yuki shone brilliantly at point guard, and with Kise they combined for 70 points. By the end of the third quarter, Kaijō was up by 20—game over.
Kise, matched with Haizaki, was equally outstanding. Maybe it was the rage of seeing a sworn enemy, but even without Kota beside him providing "buff support," Kise still entered the Zone and copied every Miracle technique one after another—absolutely destroying Haizaki on court.
With that, three teams emerged for the final stage of the Winter Cup:
Shūtoku, Rakuzan, and Kaijō.
The organizers changed the usual format—this year, the three finalists would play a round-robin to decide the champion.
Whether by fate or someone's meddling, the first two matchups both involved Shūtoku—against Kaijō and Rakuzan.
If Shūtoku could win either match, they'd still enter the championship fight.
But against Kaijō and Rakuzan… their odds weren't great.
Round-Robin Game 1: Shūtoku vs Kaijō
Returning from suspension, Kota showed fierce determination in the first quarter.
Against the unstoppable Midorima, Kota immediately went with tight, full-body defense—showing his Winter Cup defensive prowess for the first time.
His steal pressure shocked Midorima.Only four threes attempted in the entire first quarter—still 100%—but unquestionably his lowest scoring first quarter in his entire career.
End of Q1:
29–20, Kaijō lead.
With Midorima limited to 12 points, Shūtoku's offense sputtered, and Kaijō took advantage—extending the lead to 17 by halftime.
In the second half, Midorima and Takao used screens to open shot spaces, increasing their scoring—But by then Kise was fully warmed up and entered the Zone, teaming up with Kota to shred Shūtoku's defense.
Final score: 108–91, Kaijō wins.
Round-Robin Game 2: Shūtoku vs Rakuzan
Akashi followed Kaijō's template, guarding Midorima from the start.
With the Emperor Eye, Akashi's anti-steal pressure was no weaker than Kota's.
Just like in the first match, Rakuzan led by around 10 at halftime.
In the third quarter, Akashi activated Team Zone, sending Rakuzan surging ahead and crushing any hope of a comeback.
Final score: 109–100, Rakuzan wins.
Shūtoku, having lost both games, was officially out of the championship race.
Now everything came down to the third round-robin match:
Rakuzan vs Kaijō.
The third time the two powerhouses faced off in a tournament final.
But this time, their roles had reversed.
Rakuzan—the long-standing favorite—had become the challenger.Kaijō—once the underdogs—were now the three-time reigning champions.
Could Kaijō defend their throne and claim a fourth straight title?
"Honestly? I think this year's champion is definitely Rakuzan."
"Same here."
"Same your face. It's been almost two years—did you still not learn? As long as Kaijō's twin aces haven't graduated, the national title isn't changing hands!"
"Kaijō for the win!"
Online arguments raged endlessly as always.
Meanwhile, the two people at the center of the storm—Akashi and Kota—were lying side-by-side by a small river…
Fishing.
As if none of this had anything to do with them.