Chapter 110: Chapter 110

It was on Dirga—the one carrying Horizon’s pulse, the one standing between Toyonaka and collapse.

He was holding back a storm behind those calm eyes.

On the court, Yuto stood still for a second too long.

Masaki jogged back, expression cool, eyes burning like coals.

He was doing everything.

He was the offense right now.

Scoring. Slashing. Shooting.

Keeping them in this.

"I’m the point guard."

"I’m supposed to control the rhythm... to conduct."

But right now—Dirga had the baton.

And he was playing Toyonaka like a broken instrument.

"Every time I move, he’s already there."

Yuto’s eyes narrowed as he looked across at his former brother-in-arms.

Dirga doesn’t just guard me. He reads me.

Like he knows me from the inside out.

Like he remembers things I don’t.

His fists clenched tighter, knuckles whitening under the sweat.

This rhythm—Dirga’s rhythm—has to break.

I have to be the one to crack it.

Even if I can’t score... I’ll silence him.

I’ll make sure he can’t breathe.

He dropped into a lower stance.

Eyes locked on Dirga.

The second quarter truly began.

If Dirga can read Yuto it means

Dirga received the inbound.

He slowed his pace, walking the ball up—dragging the tempo back down after Masaki’s lightning start.

Toyonaka’s defense adjusted.

Masaki backed off slightly.

Daichi and Shunpei slid into controlled spacing.

Dirga scanned the floor.

Aizawa was on the bench now. Hiroki had taken his spot at the three.

But Hiroki had a unique calm—his gift was rhythm. Control. Flow.

Dirga crossed half court—

And Yuto was already there.

Tight. Closer than before.

A silent pressure wrapped around Dirga’s movement like wire.

Yuto’s stance wasn’t just active—it was refined.

Dirga narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t the same Yuto from the first quarter.

Still, Dirga was Dirga.

He waited. Baited. Shifted his weight—

—and saw it. A flash of space near the elbow.

Like always, he moved to slip through the seam.

A hand jabbed into the path of the ball—

Yuto had already read his move. Already running.

Like a shadow turned loose from its caster, Yuto burst toward the basket, dribbling fast, fierce, focused.

Feet pounding. Heart racing.

Yuto reached the paint.

Dirga leapt—closing the space.

But Yuto had planned it.

He bumped Dirga mid-air, absorbed the contact—

and twisted into a soft layup off the glass.

Toyonaka’s bench erupted.

Dirga landed, chest heaving, staring up at Yuto...

Who didn’t say a word.

And sank the free throw.

Dirga looked to the sideline, brows furrowed.

Yuto hadn’t just read his movement—

He gave him the space on purpose.

A trap disguised as an opening.

Yuto stood tall, eyes calm.

He wasn’t chasing Dirga anymore.

He was calculating him.

"Basketball isn’t 1v1," Yuto thought, gripping his shorts at the knees, catching breath only briefly.

"It’s five minds on five. And Dirga... if you’re the conductor—

Then it’s time I rewrote the score."

But for Horizon—it was turning ugly.

Like a predator in a cage finally unshackled.

Each possession, he flowed deeper into his rhythm.

His breathing—measured.

And his eyes—burning with quiet resolve.

No smiles. No fist pumps.

On defense, he barely spoke.

But on offense—he was a storm given form.

He didn’t care about Horizon’s adjustments.

He’d carry Toyonaka’s offense on his back.

Masaki baited Taiga, again, with a slight head fake.

A gliding drive into the paint—soft finish off glass.

Then Horizon possession—

Dirga probed, drew two defenders, and kicked to Hiroki.

Wide open. Clean look.

But Haruto closed like a freight train.

The ball exploded off the glass.

Masaki ran the break.

Three strides. One gather.

First lead for Toyonaka.

But Dirga didn’t panic.

He reset the tempo like a maestro.

Rei came up for a screen—

A pick and pop setup.

But Dirga faked the pass.

Momentum threatened to swing. But not for long.

Masaki was already walking the ball up—

Two defenders. Hiroki and Taiga.

He weaved between them like smoke, then dove into the lane.

He swore he’d stop him this time.

Then the crowd erupted.

He landed without looking back.

By now, the pattern was clear.

Dirga still conducted the offense—

But Yuto was getting inside the rhythm.

Like he was throwing stones into Dirga’s melody—

Disturbing the tune. Cracking the tempo.

Every three possessions, one slipped.

A snatch-back, attacking from the left.

Dirga tried switching.

Masaki flowed around them.

Another kiss off glass.

Dirga dribbled into a hedged trap.

Daichi jumped the lane.

This time, a behind-the-back finish.

Rikuya missed a mid-range jumper after Dirga fed the post.

Haruto secured it, kicked ahead—

Dirga found Rei curling to the wing.

But the pass was half a second late.

Toyonaka’s transition game now unstoppable.

He was a demon unleashed.

A mid-air adjustment.

Coach Tsugawa stood—his voice cutting through the chaos.

With three minutes left in the second quarter.