Second Quarter
"Yo, Hayama, switch on defense."
Akashi kept it short and sharp. He'd already noticed that Kota wasn't even trying to guard him, so instead of wasting energy attacking someone who didn't care, he figured he'd put pressure on Kise instead and kill Kaijo's momentum.
Hayama nodded. He was already struggling with Kise anyway. Getting schooled was bad enough, but on top of that, Akashi had been hogging the ball on offense. For one of the vaunted Uncrowned Kings this was a pretty frustrating experience.
Kise looked at the approaching Akashi and sighed.
"Akashicchi! I won't be going easy on you, you know!"
Akashi gave a polite smile.
"Never expected to see you as the final opponent, Ryota."
Kota might have been infuriating, but old teammates at least deserved a greeting.
Kota dribbled past half-court and gave a quick glance at Kise's position, running through his options.
"We're ahead now. If Kise can outplay Akashi, it'll tank Rakuzan's morale. But if he fails, our offense could get stuck."
No need to gamble. Kota made up his mind and called over Kobori.
They'd run this pick-and-roll combo a thousand times. Kobori stepped in and screened Hayama instantly.
Kota took the screen and scanned the floor. Nebuya rotated over quickly, forcing Kota to retreat.
The massive frame of Nebuya closed in fast, and Kota frowned.
"Yep. Definitely not your average NPC"
"Kobori!"
Using Nebuya's size against him, Kota bounced a pass between Nebuya's legs right into Kobori's hands.
Akashi, standing next to Kise, gave a side-eye smirk.
"Tch. Of course he goes for the easy route. Doesn't dare attack me directly. But if he thinks he can slack off just because I'm not in his face, he's dreaming."
Kobori caught the pass and roared, spinning around to deliver a flashy dunk. That was the plan, anyway — until Rakuzan's "Discount Kuroko" made a surprise appearance.
Mayuzumi, the ghost of the court, had already set a trap. Using his low-key presence, he snuck in and cleanly stole the ball. Kobori stared at his empty hands like someone who just realized he'd dropped his ice cream cone. Simple-minded as ever, it took Kota's yelling to snap him out of it.
"Get back on defense!"
Jolted into action, Kobori sprinted back. Kota frowned. Man, that no-presence quirk is seriously annoying. If only I had Takao's Hawk Eye, that guy would be toast.
Mayuzumi had better physicality than Kuroko, but he still wasn't a speed demon. So despite the steal, no fast break emerged.
Akashi brought the ball up and took the handoff from Mayuzumi, then eyed Kise. He muttered,
"Sorry, Ryota. Gotta make you pay for your buddy's clownery."
Kise's face hardened. He activated his Copy Mode: Aomine Edition. No matter what, he was determined to stop Akashi. This was Kaijo's championship year.
Akashi dribbled slowly. Unlike Aomine's wild style, his moves were clean, precise, and surgical. Just two simple through-the-legs dribbles, and Kise was already off-balance.
Kise gritted his teeth.
"If I can shut this down, Rakuzan's morale tanks. We might as well start ordering the trophy now!"
But…
Akashi suddenly exploded forward. Kise, channeling Aomine's speed, matched him step-for-step — even faster in that brief burst!
Akashi glanced back, stopped on a dime, and snapped into a behind-the-back pullback, adding a light push with his hand. That gentle nudge was all it took — Kise couldn't stop his momentum and hit the floor like a guy who just stepped on a banana peel.
Akashi coolly stepped back to the three-point line, launched the shot, swish — nothing but net.
Rakuzan three-pointer counted.
On the sidelines, Kota's eyes were practically sparkling.
"Man, I want moves like that too! Not just breaking ankles—he adds a three-pointer on top? This guy's too cool… way too full of himself!"
Kasamatsu and Kobori helped Kise up. Kota jogged over, gave Kise a butt-pat, and checked his eyes. No dead fish stare—good sign. Kota nodded. Getting crossed up doesn't mean game over. Only losers quit after one fall.
Back on offense, Kota didn't overthink it. He passed the ball straight to Kise. After that last Rakuzan play, he realized their full-court passing game was too risky — Akashi and Mayuzumi were just waiting to pounce.
Kise lowered his stance, analyzing Akashi's defense.
"This guy's wide open everywhere… which is exactly why I don't trust it!"
A bead of sweat rolled down his face. The shot clock ticked down. Then — Kise struck. A sharp crossover feint to the right, then a sudden break to the left — classic Aomine move.
But Akashi didn't budge. His left eye shimmered gold, processing Kise's movements frame by frame, like watching a movie in slow-mo. In his mind, he already saw what Kise would do next.
He crouched, swung out his arm, and stole the ball cleanly. Without looking back, he sprinted forward like he'd planned it ten minutes ago.
Kaijo's defense wasn't set. No one could stop Akashi.
Rakuzan scores two.
And just like that, Rakuzan's momentum surged like a tidal wave. Kaijo's lead from the first quarter had nearly evaporated.
Kise clenched his lips in frustration. Akashi had him on lockdown.
Kota strolled over, threw an arm around his shoulders and chuckled,
"Told ya you were unreliable. Relax. I'll take it from here."
Kise said nothing, but the look in his eyes screamed: Yeah right, buddy.
Kota slapped his butt again.
"Just watch."
He caught the inbound and glanced at the clock. Twenty-two seconds left in the second quarter. Kaijo was up — barely — 64 to 62.
He licked his lips and gestured at Akashi, then made a hand signal rarely seen even in scrimmages.
Isolation. One-on-one.
Everyone froze — Kaijo, Rakuzan, even the crowd. The entire gym went quiet.
On the benches, the Seirin, Shutoku, and Yosen teams all gawked in disbelief.
Aomine looked like his eyeballs were going to pop out. Momoi gasped,
"Is Kota... challenging Akashi one-on-one!?"
Kasamatsu's eye twitched. He looked ready to throw hands.
"Really, Kota? You avoid 1v1s all season, and now you wanna pick a fight with a final boss in the championship game? What's next, a triple threat cage match?! Is this a rotation or a fight club?"
Kise didn't react. He'd played Kota one-on-one before. While he had his doubts about Kota scoring on Akashi, he chose to trust him.
Truth was, Kota's isolation skills had always been solid. The system had just shaped his game toward team play. But offensively, he had a full arsenal. Back in the day, he'd studied signature NBA moves like a man possessed.
Dirk's one-leg fadeaway.
Hakeem's dream shake.
Kobe's turnaround jumper.
Kareem's sky hook.
If not for his average physical tools, Kota could've played any position from point guard to center.
But now? He finally had a matchup that let him show off everything he had.
He grinned at the approaching Akashi.
Akashi smiled back — hungry for a steal. He couldn't wait to get revenge for that embarrassment back in the first quarter.