The locker room was silent, save for the hum of the overhead lights. The others had gone—Kuroko included. Only two remained.
Akashi Seijuro stood by the window, arms folded behind his back, eyes staring into the distance like a king surveying a battlefield. Gojo leaned against a locker, spinning a basketball lazily in one hand.
The silence stretched like a taut string.
"You've become quite the spectacle," Akashi said at last, his tone level but cold. "You command attention. Influence. Even Kuroko has shifted toward you."
Gojo grinned. "Aww, is this jealousy I hear? I thought your Majesty was above all that."
Akashi turned his head slightly. "This team functions because of balance. Control. Every piece in its proper place. You are… disrupting that."
"Balance?" Gojo said, stepping forward. "No, what you had was obedience. But this isn't a dictatorship, Akashi. It's basketball."
"I don't expect obedience," Akashi replied, voice like steel, "only that each player knows their role. You, however, refuse to accept one."
"That's because I'm not a piece on your board," Gojo said calmly. "I'm the hand that tips it."
Akashi's eyes narrowed. For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Akashi walked forward, stopping inches from Gojo. The air between them was charged.
"I allow you on this team," Akashi said, low and deliberate. "Because you win games. But if you threaten the unity I've built—"
"You'll what?" Gojo interrupted, smile gone. His eyes, behind the shades, glinted with ancient weight. "You'll try to break me? Control me like you do the others?"
He leaned closer. "You can't. You see, Akashi… I chose to be here. You think this team revolves around you—but you forget something."
He turned away with a casual wave. "Even kings need gods to fear."
Akashi didn't respond. He simply watched Gojo leave, his reflection still in the glass, calm but cracking.
And somewhere down the hallway, Kuroko paused mid-step, sensing the tension that had just split the heart of Teiko.
The team was winning—but the foundation was shifting.
And it wouldn't hold forever.