Tomoyuki Uekusa's heart sank.
Damn it… this was entirely his fault.
He had been too engrossed in watching Akashi and Sendoh clash, so absorbed that when the basketball came flying toward him, he didn't react at all.
Now it was too late.
Seconds ticked by.
Sendoh advanced with the ball, his movements calm, his gaze sharp and calculating. He dribbled lightly, first testing Akashi with a feint, then accelerating suddenly, cutting in from the left like a leopard.
He surged toward the basket, prepared to finish with a flawless layup.
Finally, he thought, relief washing over him. Maybe he had shaken Akashi this time.
But Akashi had anticipated it all.
With a subtle half-step sideways, his body became an iron wall, cutting off Sendoh's path. Sendoh forced a jump, but mid-air, invisible pressure slowed him.
Akashi's left hand hovered near the ball, right arm a shield, his presence suffocating. Sendoh had to adjust, altering his angle mid-air.
Clank! The basketball hit the back rim and bounced out.
Akashi's eyes narrowed. Like a phantom, he surged forward and seized the rebound.
Immediately, he launched a counterattack, dribbling toward the upperclassmen's half-court.
Sendoh chased from behind, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
The first-year freshmen watched, jaws dropping. Even the upperclassmen were stunned at how fast their ace could move.
Outside the three-point line, the two confronted each other.
Akashi's eyes narrowed. Then, with a fluid crossover, he feinted a drive. Sendoh instinctively shifted to block, but in that instant, Akashi stopped, and with a subtle bounce pass, the ball slipped through the defensive gap into the hands of a cutting teammate.
Sendoh reacted too late.
Damn it… he muttered, wiping sweat from his cheek, helpless.
Akashi's passes were lethal. One brief lapse, and the ball was gone.
Even Coach Taoka Moichi on the sidelines only realized the pass midway through its flight. Shock, disbelief, awe—all at once.
Could this… be his true strength?
He had coached for decades, yet never seen passing so precise, so subtle, so devastatingly effective.
The teammate received the ball and raced forward. Layup.
Swish.
Akashi didn't celebrate. Didn't flinch. For him, the basket was as natural as breathing.
He cast a calm glance at Sendoh, then retreated on defense.
Sendoh's expression hardened. A small smile tugged at his lips—this was a battle worthy of his skill.
Sendoh took possession again. This time, he organized carefully, using a screen, finally opening a one-on-one at a forty-five-degree angle on the right. He posted up, spun, and released a jump shot.
Akashi, a phantom at his side, leapt. His fingertips brushed the ball, subtly altering its trajectory.
Clank! Rim. Missed.
Uozumi barely landed with the rebound when Akashi appeared beside him, snatching the ball in a single motion.
"This guy…" Uozumi's heart tightened. Cold sweat ran down his temple.
Akashi dribbled toward the upperclassmen's basket. Tomoyuki Uekusa rushed to intercept, but Akashi's crossover left him behind effortlessly.
"So fast…" Uekusa whispered in disbelief. "Has he been holding back this whole time?"
Ryoji Ikegami stepped in to help. Every move he made was anticipated. Akashi's eyes swept, predicting, calculating. A glance at Aida Hikoichi was enough to make Ryoji hesitate—and in that split second, Akashi exploded past him.
Sendo pursued, their steps intertwined. Pressure maxed.
Akashi paused, faked, burst forward, driving straight to the basket. Sendoh leapt, arms out—but Akashi executed a subtle reverse layup, flicking the wrist mid-air.
Swish.
The net rippled.
Everyone on the court froze. Could this really be happening? Sendoh—the team's ace—was being outmatched by a first-year freshman.
Upperclassmen couldn't comprehend it.
Even Coach Taoka Moichi felt his heart leap. He had expected talent—but this exceeded every expectation. This was on a level he had never seen before.
With Akashi orchestrating the game—or even working alongside Sendoh—the tactical possibilities were endless. Ryonan had genuine hope this year.
By now, Akashi's position in Taoka's eyes rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, Sendoh.
Beep. The final whistle blew.
Freshman team 64, Upperclassmen team 54. A ten-point difference.
Yet no one cared about the score. All eyes were on the calm, crimson figure standing in the center of the court.
This guy… is a monster.
Sendoh exhaled, trying to steady his breathing. A wry smile curved his lips.
"I lost to you again. You're… getting scarier every time."
Confused, Koshino Hiroaki asked, "Lost again? Sendoh… are you saying—?"
Sendoh shrugged, sighing.
"That's right. I lost to Akashi once in junior high, and today… it's the second time."
Boom. The words hit like a bomb. Silence. Shock. Disbelief.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Applause rose from the sidelines.
Coach Taoka Moichi walked over, clapping, eyes gleaming.
"Alright, that's it for today. Tomorrow, normal training resumes."
He looked meaningfully at Akashi. "Come with me for a moment."
The freshmen watched the red figure retreat, their hearts filled with awe, excitement, and a hint of fear.
From now on, Ryonan had another ace—just like Sendoh.