Atsushi Murasakibara let go of the rim and landed on the court, muttering to himself,
"Miyamoto's passes really are as comfortable as ever."
Nihashi's center grimaced as he watched Atsushi Murasakibara jog back on defense, clenching his fists tightly.
He knew he couldn't beat him head-on—but he couldn't just let Atsushi Murasakibara score over him so easily either!
He passed the ball to Nihashi's point guard and quickly sprinted into the frontcourt, setting himself deep in the paint.
Once the point guard brought the ball up, the center immediately sealed Atsushi Murasakibara and raised his hand, signaling for the pass.
With the captain calling for the ball, the Nihashi point guard had no reason to refuse—especially since the position really was ideal.
The ball was lofted high into the post. Nihashi's captain caught it, turned his back to the basket, and prepared to attack.
On Teikō's bench, the players collectively sighed in sympathy for Nihashi's captain.
"What is he thinking, trying to go one-on-one with Atsushi Murasakibara?"
"Yeah, Murasakibara's paint defense is terrifying."
On the court, after backing into Atsushi Murasakibara once, Nihashi's captain's expression subtly changed.
Damn it—how is he this strong?!
He realized he couldn't move Atsushi Murasakibara at all. It was like ramming into a solid wall.
Why?! I can't even overpower a freshman?!
With no other choice, he started throwing out a series of pump fakes, trying to shake Atsushi Murasakibara.
Atsushi Murasakibara stared at him like he was watching an idiot.
Huh? Why is this guy suddenly twitching?
Seeing that Atsushi Murasakibara wasn't reacting, Nihashi's captain abandoned the fakes, spun around, and went up for a shot.
The moment Atsushi Murasakibara saw the "twitching guy" suddenly shoot, he realized he'd been tricked—and instantly leapt up in anger.
His massive body blotted out the light, completely sealing off Nihashi's captain's shooting lane.
Bang!
The basketball was swatted violently into the air, flying straight toward the stands.
Shintaro Midorima looked up at the ball sailing overhead and had already given up any thought of jumping to intercept it.
Beep!
"Out of bounds—Nihashi ball!"
Only then did the crowd erupt into noise.
"That purple-haired guy jumps insanely high!"
"That was brutal! He just slapped the ball away!"
"Teikō Middle School has completely awakened. Their first-years are this strong—Nijimura doesn't even need to play!"
...
On the court, Nihashi's point guard stepped in to comfort their captain, telling him not to dwell on it.
Nihashi's captain nodded stiffly. He hadn't expected Atsushi Murasakibara's defensive range to be this outrageous.
After the inbound, the captain passed the ball to Nihashi's shooting guard.
The shooting guard caught it and locked eyes with Shintaro Midorima, who was defending him.
Midorima stood motionless in his defensive stance, radiating an oppressive presence.
The Nihashi shooting guard swallowed hard but still chose to force the attack.
He dribbled between his legs and charged forward, yet Midorima didn't give up a single step.
After several failed attempts, he realized there was no way he was breaking through Midorima's defense.
On the next move, he suddenly stopped short, stepped back hard, retreated beyond the three-point line, and shot.
Miyamoto Tokima shook his head.
If it were anyone else, that move might have worked—but the defender was Shintaro Midorima.
Midorima wasn't just deadly from three. His defense was just as terrifying.
It could be said that in the entire Kuroko no Basket world, Shintaro Midorima was the undisputed strongest 3-and-D player.
The instant the Nihashi shooting guard released the ball, Midorima burst forward and swatted it away.
What?! How could he still block that?!
The shooting guard's face filled with terror.
As soon as the ball was knocked loose, Daiki Aomine exploded toward the frontcourt. Nihashi's power forward and point guard reacted instantly, trying to chase him down.
No way! How can he be this fast?!
Watching Daiki Aomine pull farther and farther ahead, disbelief was written all over their faces.
Realizing he couldn't catch up, Nihashi's point guard slowed down, choosing instead to cut off the passing lane and disrupt Teikō's fast break.
Just as he turned his head, a ripple swept across his body in an instant.
The Nihashi point guard froze on the spot.
No way—again?!
He turned his head in panic.
Whoosh!
The basketball became a streak of light, slicing past his ear as the rushing air lifted his hair.
Nihashi's power forward felt that same ripple pass through him, then saw the beam of light flash straight into Daiki Aomine's arms.
"Ouch! That hurts!"
Daiki Aomine cried out in pain.
He struggled to secure the ball, then finished with a three-step layup, gently placing it into the basket.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch."
After landing, Daiki Aomine shook his hands, jogging back on defense as he shouted toward Miyamoto Tokima,
"Miyamoto, that was a great pass—but man, it hurts!"
The rest of Nihashi's players arrived late, staring at their point guard and power forward still frozen in place.
The shooting guard wore a look of deep self-blame.
"Sorry, everyone—my mistake!"
The point guard quickly adjusted his emotions, patting the shooting guard on the shoulder.
"It's fine. It's not that we're weak—it's that they're too strong."
He glanced helplessly at Teikō's five players, a trace of sadness in his eyes.
In truth, his idea had been correct—but the passer was Miyamoto Tokima, and the receiver was Daiki Aomine. If it had been anyone else, they might not have been able to catch such a lightning-fast pass.
Daiki Aomine complained lightly to Miyamoto Tokima,
"Miyamoto, pass it a little softer next time. That seriously hurts."
Miyamoto Tokima didn't care at all. He chuckled softly and said,
"That's how you catch your opponents off guard. Besides, you're pretty impressive, Aomine—most people couldn't handle my passes."
Praised like that, Daiki Aomine grinned proudly.
"Is that so? Then they must just be too weak! Hahahaha!"
...
"The gap is way too big. Nihashi just isn't a match for Teikō."
"Yeah, and their team atmosphere has completely fallen apart."
"That's normal. Anyone facing the current Teikō would feel like this."
The spectators compared the two teams on the court, and the difference was obvious.
On Teikō's side, players were chatting and laughing. On Nihashi's side, everything was lifeless, their momentum completely gone.
And remember—this wasn't garbage time in the fourth quarter. The game had barely been going for two minutes.
Sensing his players' shaken morale, Nihashi's coach immediately called a timeout.
"The game isn't over yet! This is only the beginning! If you don't fight until the very end, how can you know whether you'll win—"
Worthy of being a coach, his motivational speech was delivered with sharp precision.
After a heavy dose of encouragement, Nihashi's players were forcibly pulled back together.
Their spirits rose, and they shouted in unison:
"Let's go!!!"