Two players shaped not by noise—
But by the silence between shots.
The tension that exists in the seconds no one claps for.
Dirga narrowed his eyes.
A thought surfaced—
Unwelcome.
But impossible to shake.
"Is this just defense…"
"…or something deeper?"
…
Next possession.
Kurotsuki reset.
Eiji stepped up—
Then waved off the initial set.
This time—
Taniguchi didn't move.
No motion. No feint. No glide.
He stood.
Still.
In the weak-side corner.
Bait?
Kaito didn't bite.
Didn't drift.
Didn't glance at the ball.
Just held his stance.
Low. Balanced. Focused.
Eyes on the silence.
Eiji pushed anyway.
Drove mid.
Then fired a bounce pass—slick, sharp—into the pocket.
Baseline pop-up.
Taniguchi.
But Kaito was already there.
On his shoulder before the ball hit his hands.
Taniguchi caught.
Jumped.
Kaito rose with him.
Not to block.
Not to swat.
Just to be there.
To erase the air.
Clank.
Short.
Rebound—Taiga.
No cheer from the bench.
No roar from Tsugawa.
