"Kaijō, jump-ball violation."
The referee blew his whistle and made the call. The crowd—loud just moments ago—fell silent for a second.
No one expected that, before the game had even properly begun, Hayakawa would already pick up a violation.
Kota stood with hands on his hips, staring speechlessly at Hayakawa. The latter scratched his head with a goofy smile, fully aware he'd messed up.
"I'm sorry!"
Thankfully, it was only a minor interruption. A jump-ball violation isn't counted as a personal foul; possession simply goes to the opposing team.
Nebuya received the ball from the referee and handed it to Akashi. He couldn't help giving Hayakawa a few extra glances as he internally muttered: Compared to the Interhigh… did this guy's vertical get even better?
Before Nebuya could think too much, Akashi had already inbounded and initiated the first possession.
"Move! Move!"
Unlike his usual quiet playing style, Akashi began loudly directing his teammates right from the start.
Seeing this, Kota whistled teasingly and said toward Akashi,
"Looks like we're giving you a lot of pressure, huh? You don't usually yell on the court."
Akashi didn't answer. Instead, he made a subtle hand signal nobody else would've noticed. Rakuzan's players immediately spread out toward the corners.
Kota observed their spacing and saw through Akashi's intention at once.
"So you're… gonna iso me right from the tip?"
Kota rolled his shoulders, lowering his stance slightly. Battle intent surged in his eyes.
"Come on, then."
Akashi felt the pressure radiating from Kota's body. A golden glint flashed through his eyes—"Emperor Eye" activated instantly!
Thump! Thump! Thump!
That familiar, slow dribble rhythm started up in Akashi's hands. Kota narrowed his eyes, watching every twitch, every shift in Akashi's posture.
Even with his drastically improved defense, Kota found his balance subtly shifting against Akashi's movements.
"Not good…"
A drop of cold sweat slid down Kota's forehead.
"But… I've got a chance!"
In the next instant, Akashi moved. A low, gliding crossover—left to right, right to left—like an eagle sweeping inches above the ground!
His speed and angle were vicious. In terms of pure offensive threat, the dual-personality Akashi was already on Nash's level!
However… even Nash himself couldn't say with certainty he'd score 100% of the time against Kota.
Just as Akashi's body brushed past him, Kota suddenly dipped low, and in the split second between Akashi's hand change and acceleration—Kota struck! His right hand swept out sharply, slapping clean onto the ball!
Beep—
Kaijō ball out of bounds, Rakuzan possession.
The whistle echoed through the arena as Kaijō's fans erupted into cheers!
On the very first possession of the game, Kota shut down Akashi's isolation attempt, giving Kaijō a strong opening!
"Tch! Too bad the angle sucked. Could've stolen it for a fast break."
Kota sighed regretfully, though his eyes secretly flicked toward Akashi.
He said it for one purpose only—mess with Akashi's mentality.
Any player who chooses to iso on the first play and then gets stripped—even out of bounds—would feel it mentally.
Unfortunately, "any player" did not include Akashi.
"Save your petty mind-games. I'm not the same person as last year."
Akashi's tone was calm—and he meant it. Last year's Akashi would have snapped into "rage mode" after being stopped so abruptly.
But now, he regarded Kota as a true equal. Even being stripped didn't disturb his composure.
Seeing Akashi in this new state, Kota clicked his tongue. "Yare yare… you're kinda terrifying like this, you know."
"But I'm not the same as last year either! The defensive black hole? Gone forever!"
Kota jabbed his thumb at himself, grinning smugly.
"Let me reintroduce myself—Kaijō's defensive wall: Kota!"
Akashi glanced at him and, surprisingly, didn't deny it. Instead he admitted,
"I acknowledge your defense is frighteningly strong now."
"But… if you think I'm like Aomine and only solve things through isolation, then you're very mistaken."
As soon as he finished, Mibuchi inbounded again. This time Akashi didn't isolate — he called for Takeshi to set a screen.
Kota felt something like a brick wall slam into his side and frowned. He tried to slip around the screen, only to see Hirasawa subtly shift his position, blocking him again.
"A moving screen??"
Kota froze for a split second, but seeing no whistle come from the ref, he immediately backed up two steps, finally slipping around Takeshi.
But it was too late. Kota couldn't recover in time and could only watch Akashi go one-on-one against Ohara, rising smoothly into a mid-range jumper — the first score of the match.
"My bad."
Takumi lifted a hand apologetically, though nobody blamed him. Guarding Akashi wasn't a job meant for him in the first place.
Kise patted Takumi's shoulder comfortingly, then turned to Kota, complaining,
"What was that, Kota? Your defensive footwork was super slow!"
For Kaijō, switching defense off screens was routine. Even the weakest bench players didn't get stuck like that — much less Kota. To Kise, it was basically a mistake.
Kota scratched his head and said,
"Didn't you guys see? That guy did a moving screen. Weird that the ref didn't call it."
"What? Moving screen? You mean Takeshi?"
Kise blinked. He pinched his chin, thinking back. "No way, I didn't see him move."
"Hey, Kota! You're not making excuses for your defensive mistake, right?"
Kise squinted suspiciously, clearly still annoyed by the missed rotation.
Expression unchanged, Kota chopped the side of Kise's head. As Kise glared up at him, Kota crossed his arms and said,
"Do I look like that kind of guy? I always admit my mistakes like a man!"
"Anyway… let's inbound. I wanna watch that guy carefully."
Kaijo regained possession as Kota calmly dribbled across half-court to set up the offense.
Since Yuuki had already shown his full strength in the Interhigh, Kota no longer restricted him this Winter Cup.
With Kise and Yuki both positioned on opposite sides of the floor, Rakuzan's defense immediately had a headache.
On the left — Kise needed at least two defenders.
On the right — Yuki also couldn't be guarded one-on-one.
And at the top—Kota stood there looking harmless.
If all three were on the court at the same time, even Yōsen—the defensive fortress—couldn't lock them all down.
"Kaijō's offensive possession! We can see their new three-point spear formation all lined up at the arc! Just look at them—no wonder Rakuzan looks nervous already!"
Inside the livestream, Bobo continued explaining with full enthusiasm.
"Kota holding high. Let's see: Kise comes for the hand-off—ah! Fake hand-off! Kota drives! Rakuzan collapses! No-look behind-the-head pass to Yuki! Yuki swings it again! Kise on the wing—wide-open three! Kise shoots… and it's good!"
Bobo slapped his desk in excitement, and the Kaijō fans in the arena went wild — like they were high!
Kaijō's offense had been so smooth, "beautiful" wasn't enough to describe it.
"A fun stat—this Winter Cup, when Kota, Kise, and Yuki are all on the floor together, Kaijō's shooting percentage rises by eleven percent!"
"And their highest combined scoring in a single game is ninety-two points! That actually surpasses the current national tournament record—sadly it was achieved in prelims, so it doesn't officially count…"
On court, the trio exchanged high-fives after the beautiful sequence. But Akashi and Rakuzan quickly regained possession and pushed forward.
Kota waved for Kise and Yuki to fall into position, standing at the top to face Akashi yet again — but much of his focus was actually on Takeshi.
"What was that screen earlier?"
Kota narrowed his eyes and muttered,
"Show me again… you annoying bastard."