Thump… thump…
Uozumi and Takenori Akagi leapt into the air once more for the opening tip of the second half.
Both rose almost simultaneously—but unlike the first half, the balance was instantly broken.
Uozumi's palm reached the basketball first.
Half a palm higher.
A fraction of a second faster.
"What—?"
Akagi's pupils constricted sharply, his heart jolting.
This guy…
Before he could react, Uozumi flicked his wrist.
Smack!
The ball was tipped cleanly backward.
It arced lightly through the air and landed squarely in Akashi Seijuro's hands.
In an instant, every pair of eyes on Shohoku's side locked onto him.
Akashi caught the ball with both hands, posture calm, gaze steady. His feet remained rooted to the floor—no rush, no aggression, no hint of urgency.
Miyagi Ryota didn't dare hesitate.
Lowering his center of gravity, he sprinted forward, preparing for tight, close-range defense.
But just as he was about to reach Akashi—
With a casual flick of the wrist, the basketball slipped away.
"…Huh?"
The pass sliced cleanly to the side.
Miyagi skidded to a stop, his mind lagging behind the play.
A pass? He's not attacking?
Before he could process it further—
Sendoh Akira received the ball.
No hesitation.
The moment his fingertips touched leather, his figure blurred as he surged straight toward Shohoku's basket.
Just as he neared the restricted area, a red jersey burst diagonally into his path.
Rukawa Kaede.
He had rotated over in silence, planting himself firmly in Sendoh's lane, sharp eyes locked on his opponent.
Sendoh halted abruptly.
Thump… thump… thump…
The ball danced under his fingertips as he faced Rukawa head-on. A faint smile curved at the corner of his lips—lazy, yet sly.
Then, his gaze shifted.
Koshino Hiroaki.
Their eyes met for a split second.
The rhythm of Sendoh's dribble subtly changed. The bounce grew heavier, his body leaning slightly toward Koshino, posture screaming pass.
Rukawa caught every detail.
Without hesitation, his center of gravity slid half a step in that direction, arms spreading wide, ready to intercept.
But—
The passing motion stopped halfway.
Sendoh snapped his wrist back.
The ball returned instantly to his control.
Before Rukawa could recover, Sendoh exploded forward.
One long step.
A sudden burst of speed.
He sliced past Rukawa's side, pivoted sharply, and completed a smooth half-turn, leaving his defender behind.
The movement flowed like wind—fast, clean, merciless.
Rukawa sensed the trap too late.
He twisted back at full speed, fingertips brushing against Sendoh's jersey—
But it wasn't enough.
A half-beat delay was all Sendoh needed.
In just a few strides, he reached the edge of the restricted area.
As he prepared to rise—
Another figure appeared.
Mitsui Hisashi had sprinted back on defense.
He thrust out an arm, attempting to cut off the lane.
"Tch—!"
Sendoh barely slowed.
He shifted his footing, switched hands mid-motion, and lifted off, his body leaning backward.
A flawless fadeaway layup.
Mitsui's block sliced through empty air.
With a gentle flick of Sendoh's wrist, the ball traced a soft arc—
Swish.
Clean through the net.
Mitsui clicked his tongue in frustration.
He had chased with everything he had… and still arrived a step too late.
Shohoku counterattacked immediately.
Miyagi protected the ball and dashed upcourt, pushing the tempo.
The moment he crossed half-court—
Akashi stood in his path.
Miyagi's heart tightened.
He quickly read Akashi's stance, searching desperately for an opening.
But Akashi merely stood there.
Relaxed.
Loose.
No lowered center of gravity.
No aggressive pressure.
Yet that very stillness sent a chill down Miyagi's spine.
"What… is this?"
Cold sweat slid down his forehead.
An inexplicable sense of danger surged through his chest.
This feeling… is bad.
He didn't dare force it.
Glancing quickly at his teammates' positions, Miyagi hesitated—choosing caution over impulse.
Thump… thump… thump…
The ball continued to bounce.
To the spectators, it looked strange.
Miyagi had charged like an arrow from his own half—only to freeze the instant he met Akashi.
The contrast was jarring.
In the press section—
Click.
Kamishiro Ruri raised her camera, capturing the confrontation.
Staring at the scene, she murmured softly,
"I really admire his courage… facing Akashi-kun head-on isn't something just anyone can do."
She already knew what would happen next.
Beside her stood Aida Yayoi and her assistant, Nakamura Taizo.
Yayoi caught Ruri's whisper and glanced at the emblem on her jacket.
"Excuse me," she leaned over with curiosity, "you're from Ryonan, right?"
Ruri turned, recognized the name on Yayoi's badge, and nodded.
"Yes. Ryonan High."
Yayoi's gaze dropped to the small tag on Ruri's chest:
Ryonan High School • Press Club
"So you're in the Press Club!" Yayoi smiled. "That explains it."
She leaned in, voice warming.
"Actually, I'm your senior. I went to Ryonan too—and I was in the Press Club back then."
Ruri's eyes lit up.
"Really? What a coincidence!"
Yayoi nodded, then casually shifted the topic.
"You seemed very confident just now. Do you know Akashi personally?"
"Yes," Ruri replied without hesitation. "We joined Ryonan together. We knew each other before that."
"Oh?" Yayoi smiled knowingly. "Sounds like you're quite close."
Ruri fell silent.
Are we…?
She didn't know.
She didn't know what place she held in Akashi's heart.
Yayoi caught the hesitation instantly.
Ah… young love.
She softened her expression and smoothly redirected the conversation.
"Then tell me—why do you say it's so difficult to face Akashi?"
Ruri's uncertainty vanished.
Her eyes shone with absolute confidence.
"Shohoku's number 7?" she said lightly.
"He's no match for Akashi-kun."
"Oh?" Yayoi raised an eyebrow. "You're very sure of that."
"Of course," Ruri replied without a shred of doubt.
"Because Akashi-kun… is the strongest."
Yayoi froze.
Her eyes widened into perfect manga-style dots.
That's definitely your personal bias…!
At that moment—
Clap!
A sharp, crisp sound cut through the arena.
Both women turned instantly.
On the court, Akashi and Miyagi had already crossed paths.
One stood ahead.
One behind.
Miyagi's hands were empty.
Akashi Seijuro held the basketball.
Time seemed to freeze.