And laid it in.
Smooth. Silent. Precise.
21 – 11.
"KUROTSUKI REPLIES—SILENT BUT SHARP!"
"TANIGUCHI NEVER LOOKED AT THE RIM—AND YET THE ENTIRE DEFENSE DANCED TO HIS TEMPO!"
…
Kaito backpedaled.
Jaw clenched.
He hadn't been beat.
Not directly.
But he felt it.
That old rhythm.
That subtle gravity.
The way Taniguchi didn't move bodies—he moved decisions.
"You're still doing it," Kaito thought.
"Still playing like the court belongs to you."
Horizon possession.
Kaito raised his hand.
Flat. Firm.
Not desperate.
Not angry.
Grounded.
"Ball."
Dirga didn't hesitate.
He trusted Kaito like he trusted the rim.
Snap pass.
Top arc.
Isolation.
But this wasn't a grudge play.
This wasn't ego.
This was a rally flag.
Kaito squared his shoulders.
Taniguchi stepped up. Not pressing.
Just present.
Just waiting.
Behind him, Kurotsuki's defense shifted like shadow on water.
Not a box.
Not a zone.
A maze.
Toshiro drifted inside the elbow.
Not to help.
To warp space.
