Midorima Shintarō was silent.
That pass…
It was just that good.
So good, in fact—It hadn't even reached its full potential yet.
Which meant… this round, they had no choice but to let it go.
Still, landing someone like Shigure Akihito from the draft—already more than enough.
On the court, under Akashi's flawless control and passing, Seirin's offense came alive.
Hyūga, Kiyoshi, even the all-around, hard-working Koganei—all of them sank their shots from mid-range.
"Wait—since when was Seirin's offense this strong?"
"It's not," someone corrected immediately.
"It's Akashi's passing! He's tightening their rhythm, making every offensive movement cleaner and faster!"
The Rakuzan bench buzzed in disbelief.
"Incredible…"
"Those lightning-fast passes—no wind-up, no wasted motion. You can't even see his hands move."
"Add in that terrifying court vision… He's perfectly syncing with every attacker."
"Seriously," another muttered, eyes wide.
"He's the ideal form of a command tower."
But then someone frowned, glancing toward Teikō's side of the court—specifically, at the mountain-sized Murasakibara Atsushi.
"Still… something doesn't add up."
Yeah, Akashi's amazing—but that giant over there, Murasakibara, looked way more threatening.
Was this really the same "Generation of Miracles" captain everyone spoke about with awe?
Because right now… he didn't seem that terrifying.
And yet
The chilling air radiating from Akashi kept growing sharper.
Hayama Kotarō, caught in it, tensed instinctively, feeling a pressure he couldn't explain.
His gut screamed at him that something wasn't right.
What… was this sense of unease?
Across the court, Reo Mibuchi was thinking the same thing as he watched Hyūga move.
That guy…
Ever since Akashi joined in
His movements were smoother, faster, even his accuracy had gone up!
Whoosh!
On another play, Akashi's pass cut through the air like a blade
This time hitting Kiyoshi Teppei perfectly as he cut inside!
Kiyoshi's eyes widened.
Perfect pass!
Right into his sweet spot!
Swish!
In a blink, Kiyoshi slipped into the paint.
Nebuya Eikichi exhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes.
That drive—from catching the ball to crossing into the lane—was seamless, not a single wasted motion.
The speed and spacing—flawless.
"Ugh!"
Even going full force, Nebuya couldn't stop him.
Kiyoshi finished the play!
At the same time, Okayama captain Hagioka Kasayuki (on the sidelines, watching) focused his eyes on Akashi and muttered,
"That pass… It looks normal, but it's anything but normal."
Teikō… really was a den of monsters.
Even compared to Murasakibara's freakish physical gifts, Akashi's display as a point guard was on another level.
This wasn't a human performance—it was surgical perfection.
From the sidelines, Nijimura Shuzo and Shigure Akihito exchanged knowing smiles.
"When you catch that kind of pass," Akihito murmured, "your movements just… flow. Even your rhythm speeds up naturally."
In a single game, there are hundreds of passes
But strictly speaking, a perfect pass? That's a rare event.
Most so-called "good passes" or "good assists" always have a slight flaw somewhere
A fraction off in timing, speed, or trajectory—requiring the receiver to make micro-adjustments before they can act.
Bad passes break rhythm.
Good passes create rhythm.
But a perfect pass
A perfect pass creates perfection itself.
It lets the receiver move without correction, frees up every nerve in their body, and draws out their full potential.
And that's exactly what Akashi was doing.
In the next moment, Akashi's play sent a small shock through even Hagioka's calm composure.
Because even though Rakuzan was technically defending, Hayama Kotarō completely forgot the match was only meant to test each side's passing ability.
He went all in
Even activating Thunder Beast Mode.
BOOM!
BOOM!
Lightning crackled under his feet as he intercepted at impossible speed
But even then, Seirin's players could barely respond to Akashi's passes.
Then suddenly
Akashi's expression sharpened.
Buzz!
From the sidelines, Hagioka froze.
Wait… that feeling…
ZONE?!
It was only for a blink, but both Hagioka and Nijimura—veterans with superhuman perception—caught it instantly.
A flare of energy surged from Akashi as he snapped a pass.
Just as fast, it faded away.
He looked toward Seirin's only player capable of receiving such a ball—Kiyoshi Teppei—and smiled faintly.
"This is my first time using it too," Akashi whispered.
"Let's see… how it changes you."
The ball blazed through the air
and the impossible happened.
Hayama, riding the roar of thunder, appeared in the paint almost simultaneously with Nebuya.
The two formed a towering double wall against Kiyoshi.
Hayama's leg muscles—so thick they looked carved from stone—carried him higher than both Kiyoshi and Nebuya.
But then
For an instant
He saw it.
A flicker of electric light flashed in Kiyoshi's eyes
the unmistakable spark of ZONE.
A brief arc of lightning, a flare of power so real it made Hayama's heart skip.
Was that… real? Or just an illusion?
But when Kiyoshi's jump caught up with his own, meeting their block midair
Hayama knew the truth.
It was Zone.
Maybe not full-power, but definitely real.
Bang!
The combined block of Hayama and Nebuya sent the ball flying
Yet Kiyoshi's dunking hand still slammed down, gripping the rim, shaking the hoop violently!
CLANG!!
"Wha—?!"
"W-Wait, Kiyoshi?!"
"He's… he's insane!"
The play didn't score, but the sheer dominance of that motion stunned everyone
Rakuzan and Seirin alike.
Hyūga's jaw dropped.
"No way… Did Kiyoshi just get stronger after being hospitalized?!"
What kind of logic was that?!
Of course, it never crossed Hyūga's mind that this was the result of Akashi's pass.
That kind of reasoning was just too absurd.
Instead, only one thought filled his head
Maybe we should let Kiyoshi stay in the hospital a little longer… it seems to help.
END OF CHAPTER
4 IN 1 - BE A MEMBER, GET 4 ONGOING STORIES!!
35 CHAPTERS AHEAD!!
Starting Five - Kuroko's Basketball: Before Generation Miracles, I Already Crowned
👉 patreon.com/MrBehringer