The third quarter pressed forward like a tightening vice.
No whistles.
No mercy.
No breathing room.
Hakuro Academy's offense reset at the top of the key, the ball returning—inevitably—to Ryu. The red aura around him no longer flared wildly like earlier in the game. It had stabilized, condensed into something denser, more dangerous. A predator that no longer needed to bare its fangs to inspire fear.
Yuuto felt it the moment Ryu began to dribble.
Not pressure.
Intent.
His pulse quickened—not from panic, but from alignment. The chaos of the court didn't overwhelm him anymore. The noise faded into a dull hum, replaced by shapes, spacing, motion paths.
Don't look at his eyes.
Yuuto lowered his stance.
Watch the hips.
Daniel's voice echoed in his head, sharp and precise, like a blade cutting through clutter.
"Eyes lie. Shoulders deceive. Feet react late. Hips tell the truth."
