Sendoh stood frozen, stunned by the scene unfolding before him.
He knew Sawakita Eiji's strength better than anyone.
Yet Ake—Ake of all people—had just stolen the ball straight from Sawakita's hands.
The Ake standing before him now felt like a stranger.
Sendoh couldn't explain it, but the player dominating the court right now didn't feel like the Ake he knew.
Possession switched.
Meizawa launched a fast counterattack.
There was just over a minute left in the game.
Seiyo 78 — Meizawa 80.
A two-point difference.
Meizawa's point guard sprinted forward with the ball, his heart pounding. He knew the safest option was to pass it to the team's ace.
Without hesitation, he waved his arm and hurled the ball forward.
Whoosh—
The ball sliced through the air, leaving a faint yellowish streak as it sped toward Sawakita Eiji.
But then—
Slap!
A sharp sound echoed through the gym.
A hand had intercepted the pass in midair, cleanly cutting it off.
"What—?!"
The ball was no longer heading toward Sawakita. It was now in Ake's hand.
He hadn't even looked back.
He just stood there, calm and composed, eyes fixed straight on Sawakita as if mocking both him and the point guard at once.
The Meizawa point guard's jaw dropped. His eyes bulged in disbelief.
'How…?'
He was sure Ake had been guarding Sawakita.
He hadn't even turned around—so how had he intercepted that pass with such precision?
Even Sawakita Eiji was momentarily speechless.
"Tch… This guy," Sawakita muttered, unable to hide his shock.
'What the hell was that?'
'Sure, Ake was good at stealing—but staring right at me while intercepting a pass behind him? That's insane!'
And then it hit him.
If he can read my movements that clearly… then he must be able to predict the passes too.
That thought alone made a chill run down Sawakita's spine.
Ake, meanwhile, had already exploded into motion.
His steps were light yet powerful, his dribble fast and crisp, each bounce of the ball pounding like a heartbeat filled with deadly rhythm.
As he advanced, Sawakita shadowed him, sharp-eyed and ready. His muscles tensed as he blocked Ake's path.
"Don't think you'll get past that easily," Sawakita muttered under his breath, spreading his arms to guard.
But Ake didn't even give him time to react.
The Ankle Breaker activated.
Just two steps away from Sawakita, Ake's right foot tapped the floor. His ankle coiled like a spring, and in the same instant, he pulled the ball under his right leg to his left hand. His center of gravity shifted sharply left, completely changing direction.
Sawakita's pupils shrank as he tried to mirror the movement— but Ake's rhythm didn't stop.
His left wrist flicked, the ball bounced again, and as his right hand caught it, his left foot exploded off the ground.
He cut to the right—swift as the wind.
Bang… bang… bang…
The sound of the ball hitting the floor merged perfectly with his footsteps, creating an overwhelming rhythm that drowned the court.
Sawakita gritted his teeth, trying to regain balance. But Ake's ankle twisted again, switching the ball from left to right. His body swayed with impossible fluidity, faking left, then snapping right, slicing through the opening in Sawakita's defense.
Bang… bang… bang…
Each bounce marked a perfect change of direction.
Each twist tore apart Sawakita's defensive rhythm.
First, Sawakita lunged left.
Then, he stopped and turned right.
By the third shift, his footing faltered. His balance wavered.
'Oh no…!'
When Ake made his final cut to the right, Sawakita's body tilted forward. His ankle twisted—and he nearly fell.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
It looked like Sawakita was about to collapse—about to become another victim of Ake's devastating Ankle Breaker.
But he refused to go down.
Grinding his teeth, he pushed off with his right foot, forcing his body upright. His muscles screamed in pain, his arms spread wide to keep balance—like a man clinging to a cliff's edge.
Sweat poured from his forehead. His breathing was ragged.
'This guy… is a monster,' he thought, eyes filled with disbelief.
Still, he refused to give up.
Cursing under his breath, Sawakita chased after Ake.
Time was running out. If Seiyo scored again, Meizawa was finished.
But Ake didn't even glance back. His eyes were already locked on the basket.
Two Meizawa defenders— the point guard and the shooting guard—closed in from both sides.
A pincer attack.
Ake's pupils narrowed, the golden and crimson glow in his eyes flickering with intensity.
He was about to trigger the Ankle Breaker again—
—but suddenly, his movements stopped.
'Huh?'
From behind, Sawakita frowned.
'What's he doing now?'
He couldn't read Ake's intent, and that made him uneasy. Every time this guy pulled something unexpected, it ended badly.
Just as Sawakita tensed up—
Ake surprised everyone.
Instead of forcing his way through, he stepped back to the side and flicked his wrist.
Whoosh—
The basketball soared through the air, tracing a perfect arc.
It wasn't a shot. It was a pass.
And it was headed toward the wing— where Sendoh had just slipped free from his defender.
Sawakita's pupils widened.
Sendoh blinked in surprise, his eyes following the spinning ball. It seemed to carry a strange sense of inevitability—as if it had always been meant for him.
It landed softly in his hands.
"This is…" he murmured under his breath, still stunned.
Then, Ake's voice reached him—calm and steady, yet filled with something unfamiliar: trust.
"What are you waiting for? You can shoot threes, can't you? Show them the power of our ace."
Sendoh froze for a heartbeat.
That tone—
That look in Ake's eyes—
It wasn't the cold, prideful Ake who refused to rely on anyone.
It was a teammate—one who believed in him.
Sendoh's eyes burned with resolve.
Without hesitation, he took off running. His steps were light but firm, and within seconds, he'd reached the three-point line.
"Not good!"
The Meizawa players panicked, faces twisting in alarm.
Sawakita turned instantly, sprinting toward Sendoh.
He had to stop him—no matter what.
But it was too late.
Sendoh rose into the air.
His form was flawless, smooth as flowing water.
Whoosh—
The ball cut through the air, spinning beautifully.
Swish!
A clean, crisp sound filled the arena.
Seiyo 81 — Meizawa 80.