Thump—thump!
The two centers moved almost in perfect sync.
Uozumi and Takasago Kazuma exploded upward at the same instant, long arms stretching to their limits, eyes locked onto the descending basketball.
Uozumi held a clear height advantage—202 centimeters, a full eleven centimeters taller than Takasago.
Under Akashi's guidance, his strength and vertical leap had improved tremendously. Yet at this decisive moment, the difference between experience and raw physicality revealed itself.
Takasago Kazuma had already calculated the ball's trajectory.
Despite being nearly ten centimeters shorter, his timing was impeccable.
Clap!
The sharp sound echoed through the gym as Takasago's fingertips brushed the ball first, deftly redirecting it toward Kainan's half.
Uozumi reached his apex a heartbeat too late.
Suspended midair, he could only watch as the ball slipped away, his pupils shrinking in disbelief.
When he landed, his brows knit tightly together.
…So this is a national-level center.
The basketball arced cleanly and dropped straight into Kiyota Nobunaga's hands.
The instant his fingers wrapped around the ball, Kiyota's face lit up.
"Nice tip, Takasago-senpai!"
Before the words had fully left his mouth, his legs kicked off explosively.
He surged forward like an untamed wild horse, dribbling as he crossed half-court in a blink.
"Hahahaha! Ryonan—watch me!"
His voice rang with pent-up frustration and a desperate need to prove himself.
He was already approaching the three-point line—
When suddenly—
A white figure cut in from the side.
Feet planted, stance low, arms spread wide.
Sendo.
Kiyota's laughter froze instantly.
"What—?!"
Shock flashed across his face. He hadn't expected Sendo to recover this quickly.
Gritting his teeth, Kiyota initiated a flurry of dribbles—crossovers, behind-the-back moves, lightning-fast footwork that left faint afterimages.
Each feint was sharp, aggressive, desperate.
Yet Sendo moved like a shadow.
No wasted motion. No overcommitment.
No matter how Kiyota shifted, Sendo remained exactly half a step ahead, sealing every possible lane.
"Tch…!"
Sweat beaded on Kiyota's forehead as panic crept in.
Just as Sendo's hand dipped dangerously close—
"Here!"
Muto Tadashi cut in from the wing, extending his arm.
Without hesitation, Kiyota snapped a pass over.
He knew—one more second and the ball would've been stolen.
Muto caught it cleanly and charged forward.
His speed wasn't exceptional, but his positioning was crafty. With a few precise steps, he slipped past the perimeter defense, crossed the three-point line, and barreled straight into the paint.
The lane was open.
Muto's eyes narrowed.
He planted his foot, exploded upward, and cocked the ball back with one hand—
Preparing to dunk.
But—
Whoosh!
A white figure surged in from the side.
"What—?!"
Muto's eyes widened.
Slap!
The ball was violently smacked away midair.
Fukuda Kiccho had arrived.
The force sent the basketball spinning toward the sideline, bouncing erratically.
Muto landed awkwardly, still stunned.
…Turnover?
Just then—
A slender hand intercepted the ball.
Jin Soichiro.
He crouched low, secured the ball, and rose smoothly into shooting form.
He was less than a meter behind the three-point line.
Danger.
Everyone knew Jin's reputation.
A shot here would almost certainly go in—and scoring a three at the opening would deal a heavy psychological blow.
Ryonan felt it.
So did the crowd.
Jin bent his knees and jumped.
Not good.
But—
A massive shadow swallowed his vision.
His motion faltered.
Uozumi.
When did he get back?!
Jin had no time to think.
The ball was already leaving his hand.
Whoosh—
Slap!
Uozumi's bronze arm carved through the air like an axe.
The shot was crushed mid-flight.
Bang!
The ball slammed into the floor behind Jin and rebounded sharply.
"Nice!"
Koshino Hiroaki rushed in, scooping it up in stride.
Fast break.
Both teams surged forward, white and yellow-purple jerseys colliding like opposing tides.
Thump—thump—thump!
Koshino dribbled hard, leaning forward.
He could hear Jin's footsteps—too close.
Originally, he'd planned a pull-up three.
But Kainan's recovery was terrifyingly fast.
No breathing room.
"…Their transition defense is insane."
Before he even reached the arc, Jin was already half a step behind, arm raised.
Koshino halted abruptly, shielding the ball with his body.
His eyes scanned the court.
Pass to Akashi—safest option.
But—
Blocked.
Shinichi Maki was glued to Akashi, completely sealing the passing lane.
Then—
A flash along the baseline.
Koshino's eyes lit up.
Without hesitation, he turned sideways, slammed the ball into the floor—
Bang!
A sharp bounce pass skidded into the paint.
Fukuda Kiccho burst in like lightning, catching it cleanly.
Too late to react.
He took one powerful step, leaped, and raised the ball with both hands—
Ready to dunk.
But—
A dark cloud loomed behind him.
Fukuda's pupils shrank.
He hadn't seen him move.
Slap!
Shinichi Maki's hand came down like a guillotine, crushing the ball out of Fukuda's grip.
The force sent Fukuda off balance midair.
Bang!
The ball smashed into the floor and rolled out of bounds.
Silence.
The gym froze.
The opening exchange—blinding speed, relentless defense, brutal collisions—had stunned everyone.
Press row.
Nakamura gaped.
"Th-this intensity… I never imagined a high school game could be this fierce!"
Aida Yayoi's eyes sparkled.
"This match… it's already exceeded expectations."
Kamishiro Ruri stared at center court, eyes sharp.
"…And neither captain has truly made a move yet."
Ryonan ball.
Akashi advanced calmly, dribbling with measured steps.
The moment he crossed half-court—
Shinichi Maki was there.
Low stance. Locked focus. Predator-ready.
The crowd fell silent.
Every gaze fixed on the two captains.
A duel.
So soon?
Anticipation crackled through the air as Akashi and Maki faced each other
two kings, finally standing on the same stage.