Chapter 105: Chapter 105

Another inbound to Yuto.

Dirga’s eyes narrowed.

He remembered the strategy meeting clearly:

"First pass usually goes to Masaki. They’re tight. Trust that connection."

"They’ll try to bait us with the screen. Be ready."

Dirga and Taiga locked in on that option like trained hunters.

Sure enough—Masaki moved up.

Yuto brought the ball forward slowly, calculating. Then he motioned—

Masaki stepped up for the screen.

But this wasn’t just about spacing.

Yuto passed the ball mid-screen.

Masaki caught it fluidly in motion.

Taiga switched on instinct. Shadowing tight.

Masaki didn’t flinch.

His eyes scanned, and his mind clicked into rhythm.

"They’re reading me well," Masaki whispered to himself.

"But I expected that. I’ll believe in myself—and finish it."

This was the difference.

Where Heian Gakuen underestimated him...

They were guarding heavy, showing full respect to Toyonaka’s ace.

But Masaki wasn’t looking for respect.

He was here for results.

His footing gave way.

The crowd’s gasp sucked the air out of the arena.

Even Ayaka’s hand froze in mid-cheer.

Taiga hit the floor, arms scrambling.

Masaki took one step back—cool, calm.

Just a quiet glance at Taiga on the hardwood.

Masaki’s jumper fell clean.

Back on his feet—jaw clenched, chest heaving, pride bruised but not broken.

Dirga caught his eye.

"Shake it off. We need you."

Taiga responded with a grunt, more angry at himself than anything else.

Dirga jogged back to take the inbound pass.

Kaito slapped the ball into his hands.

Dirga dribbled past half court, Yuto already glued to his hip again—relentless.

But Dirga wasn’t rattled.

The offense moved into position.

Dirga faked using it, then slipped left—a decoy.

That created a crack.

Dirga lobbed the ball to Kaito at the top.

Kaito caught it clean.

And that’s when it started:

Kaito flared out to the wing.

Kaito pumped once—defender bit—then fed the ball inside.

One-on-one against Haruto.

Rikuya didn’t hesitate.

He dropped a shoulder, powered through—

Rikuya spun back, faked once, then jumped off his right.

Ding! Off the glass. In.

7 – 2. Horizon holds.

Toyonaka’s bench barked out instructions.

Coach Reina stood, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Another inbound to Yuto.

This time—pace increased.

Yuto pushed the ball up court, and Horizon scrambled back.

Masaki trailed behind, waiting for the handoff.

Dirga noticed the shift—"Mismatch?"

Yuto fired a bounce pass into traffic—

Shunpei caught it mid-stride.

Dirga exhaled slowly.

His fingers rolled over the ball as he passed half court again.

This one was a stagger screen play for Aizawa.

Kaito and Taiga moved like magnets pulling defenders wide.

Aizawa darted past the first screen—

Popped out on the wing—

But Rikuya was already there.

He boxed Haruto out, leaped—

The crowd was boiling now.

Ayaka jumped from the Horizon stands—"LET’S GO!"

Signs flew. Drums beat. Flags waved.

On Toyonaka’s end, Masaki tightened his ponytail braid.

He gave a look to Daichi, then to Shunpei.

"Let’s raise the tempo," he muttered.

Masaki brought the ball up himself.

Masaki exploded past half court with speed and force.

Taiga stepped up early—tried to slow him down.

But this time, Masaki didn’t go flashy.

He bulldozed forward.

Masaki didn’t even blink.

Just went to the line.

The crowd started chanting:

"Black Thunder! Black Thunder!"

Masaki bounced the ball once.

Swish. First free throw in.

Swish. Second one good.

Dirga walked toward the ball.

He didn’t look at Masaki.

But in his head—he smiled.

"This is the game we wanted."

"Let’s see who breaks first."

Shift. Change. Adjust.

Kaito brought the ball up this time.

Dirga stepped aside—not as the conductor, but as the observer.

They needed to shake Toyonaka’s rhythm.

So Kaito, with his calm yet clinical precision, took the reins.

The court felt different now.

Like gravity had increased.

It wasn’t just adapting—it was evolving.

Yuto, sharp-eyed and locked in, mirrored Kaito’s every twitch.

His feet were silent, his movement clean.

"He’s reading us," Kaito thought, tightening his grip on the ball.

Horizon flowed into motion—screens, cuts, misdirections.

But the air crackled with a new tension.

Toyonaka’s defensive aura had changed.

It was no longer just aggressive.

Yuto moved like he was inside Kaito’s head.

Each pass lane felt narrower.

Each dribble heavier.

Kaito shifted his weight, danced sideways—

But Yuto didn’t bite.

"He’s anticipating me..." Kaito’s brow twitched.

Suddenly—Taiga flashed to help, giving Kaito a sliver of an opening.

Kaito snapped a pass.

—But it never made it.

The moment the ball left Kaito’s fingers, Yuto’s hand was there.

Yuto exploded down the court like a bullet out of a chamber.

Taiga, caught flat, recovered—his legs burned as he pushed to catch up.

The gym roared—half from cheers, half from gasps.

Yuto didn’t run at full throttle.

No—he was playing a game within the game.

Taiga rose—instinct, not decision.

A ghost around a wall.

One motion—hook shot.

Taiga landed, frozen.

His chest rose and fell like a piston.

Twice now he’d been made to look like a fool.