Akashi's eyes shone. His basketball IQ was high, his observation sharp—he'd seen everything.
By fronting the post, they'd forced the lob.
Even though Iwamura's frame couldn't match Murasakibara's, once he jumped, his defensive range wasn't negligible.
Therefore, Fukui had to use a high lob to ensure a safe delivery.
This increased the ball's hang time.
That extra time might seem brief to others, but for Yuuto, it was enough.
Smack!
Smack!
Two different arms contacted the basketball in succession.
The first sound was Murasakibara securing the ball. The second was Yuuto's steal.
The next instant—
Yuuto snatched the ball and took one step forward.
Just one step, yet it gave the illusion of transcending time.
Okamura was about to slide over to intercept, but then the man simply vanished from his vision, already behind him.
The speed was simply too fast.
Even Himuro was the same—blown past in a single step as Yuuto transformed into a beam of light.
Murasakibara gritted his teeth and gave chase.
Both moved at extreme speeds. One had long legs—at full sprint, he wouldn't be slower than any Miracle.
Yuuto had superior explosiveness and faster stride frequency—advantages his build provided.
"Stop right there!" Murasakibara finally spoke, circling in front of Yuuto with both arms spread wide.
Two golden-ratio arms, enough to cut off all paths.
Yuuto said nothing. His hands seemed to emit the sound of thunder, golden lightning crackling around them.
Facing Murasakibara, he suddenly bent low and whipped his body right—but halfway through, his other hand cut in and changed direction.
Hummm!
Golden light blazed from his body, dazzling and brilliant.
He drove with the style he'd fused from Himuro, using the Demon Eyes to observe, compressing his defender's reaction time to the absolute limit—challenging Murasakibara's ultimate reflexes.
Murasakibara's expression sharpened. He was forced back, step after step.
Even he felt immense pressure from Yuuto's relentless assault—like a storm that wouldn't stop.
Himuro's skills were inferior to Aomine's, Midorima's, Kise's, and the other Miracles.
But the evolution he'd given Yuuto was substantial.
Yuuto had found ways to further elevate his fundamentals from studying Himuro.
The golden light surged, constantly shifting across the court as if going berserk.
Murasakibara faced unprecedented pressure.
His god-given motor reflexes began to buckle. His opponent's assault was too fierce, testing the limits of his reactions.
Simultaneously, a familiar sensation crept into his heart.
That evening in Teikō's basketball club. When Akashi's Emperor Eye first awakened.
In that moment, he'd been demolished by Akashi without any chance to fight back.
Now it was happening again.
Thud!
Finally, he couldn't hold on. Even though he'd reacted, his body couldn't respond in time.
Before everyone's eyes, Murasakibara's massive frame crumpled, his knees buckling as he crashed to the floor.
"Murasakibara!"
"Atsushi!"
"..."
Yōsen shouted, their voices filled with shock and fury.
They'd never witnessed this before. Even Himuro had never managed it.
After putting him on the floor, Yuuto glanced down at Murasakibara before driving to the basket for an easy layup.
That single glance—
It made Murasakibara burn with rage, and he couldn't help but pound the hardwood.
For an instant, looking at Yuuto, his silhouette seemed to merge with Akashi's.
"This damn monster."
Araki was forced to call another timeout.
As her players returned to the bench, she grabbed the clipboard and shouted.
"Pass the ball! Create space! Understand?"
"Fukui, don't just look for Murasakibara. That makes it too obvious..."
Araki demanded more ball movement—don't make the offense so predictable.
And Murasakibara?
He sat nearby, the coach's voice filling his ears, but he couldn't hear the words.
What couldn't be done, couldn't be done. No matter how hard you tried, the result was the same.
Just like back at Teikō.
"You think you can accomplish anything with that level of ability?"
"I'd advise you to give up. Stop playing basketball."
Those were words he'd said to other Teikō players back then.
Cruel, wasn't it?
But it was the truth!
Basketball had never been a fair sport.
He still remembered Kuroko loudly arguing back: "I love basketball, so I'll work hard to improve. What's wrong with that?"
"Of course there's something wrong—it's completely meaningless. You still think hard work makes dreams come true?"
"Hard work doesn't guarantee results. That's just common sense!"
He particularly remembered saying those words.
So—
If you couldn't win, you couldn't win. Continuing wouldn't change the outcome.
"Did everyone hear me? More ball movement, create open looks for each other. Okamura, watch the basket protection..."
"I'm done."
Abruptly.
While Araki was using every second to explain tactics, while his teammates were listening intently—Murasakibara gave up first.
"Huh? What did you just say?" Fukui thought he'd misheard.
"I said I'm done. Sub me out." Murasakibara repeated, eyes hidden under his towel, his expression invisible.
But his tone made every Yōsen player furious.
"Are you kidding me?! What the hell are you thinking, you bastard?!" Fukui shot to his feet, spit flying everywhere. "Our goal is the championship! If you're going to throw a tantrum, at least pick the right time!"
"But it's pointless, isn't it? A game we can't win anyway—why does it matter if we play or not?" Murasakibara's voice was flat.
"Even if there's a chance to win, you're just going to give up, Murasakibara?!" Okamura roared.
Everyone stood, staring at this child who refused to grow up.
"It can't be done." Murasakibara wouldn't even look at them.
"What do you mean can't be done?! How do you know without trying?!"
They couldn't understand his thinking.
"What can't be done, can't be done. Someone that even Aka-chin and them couldn't beat—of course we can't beat him either."
He spoke words they couldn't comprehend, and no matter what his teammates said, he was determined to leave the game.
Even if Araki sent someone to fetch her wooden sword to beat him to death, it wouldn't matter.
But then—
Before Araki could act, Himuro threw the first punch.
Wham!
A full-force blow connected with Murasakibara's face—hard enough to leave it red.
"Cut it out, Atsushi! The game isn't over yet!" He grabbed Murasakibara's collar, his expression not cold but furious.
"That hurt... I hate this hot-blooded stuff from you people."
Murasakibara got angry too, like a child whose toy had been stolen.
His words turned harsh. Getting punched out of nowhere had rattled his composure.
"What do you mean the game isn't over? Your performance was even worse than mine! In front of that guy, you were completely useless!"
"Don't you get it? Talent! Your talent and his aren't even on the same level! What exactly are you trying to prove?!"
Pfft...
Himuro felt like a knife had been thrust into his chest, blood seeping out. The pain was unbearable.
Talent?
How could he not know?!
It was precisely because he'd recognized his lack of talent that he'd done something so foolish—trying to establish himself as the "big brother" through a single game.
What had he been thinking back then?
Himuro hadn't forgotten. Last year, when his brother had deliberately held back to preserve their relationship, a twisted joy had emerged in his heart!
Because they'd both been working hard to maintain that bond.
It was mutual.
Therefore—
He had to become stronger. Had to work harder. Had to beat Kagami and rightfully be his big brother.
His return to Japan wasn't coincidental—he'd followed Kagami here.
After learning what he needed from their teacher Alexandra, he'd immediately chased after him.
This time, he would definitely defeat his brother.
Yet here he'd encountered Murasakibara—a genius who constantly wasted his own talent.
"I know. I know it all! Because I've always been jealous of his talent." Himuro released his grip, his voice desolate. "That's exactly why I can't accept this!"
"You clearly have everything I've always dreamed of—how can you say 'give up' so easily?!"
Himuro felt like he was going insane.
His time with Murasakibara had brought back a long-lost feeling.
Like facing another little brother.
But this brother had a completely different personality from the other one—requiring far more of his attention.
So even when Murasakibara said the words that cut deepest, Himuro didn't get angry at him. He just wanted him to pull himself together.
"Wake up, Atsushi!"
His emotions surged violently.
Frustration at his own insufficient talent. Anger at heaven's unfairness.
And resentment toward Murasakibara—who possessed everything he wanted yet refused to put in the effort.
Many fans said he had the same aura as the Generation of Miracles.
But only he knew the truth.
He was just an ordinary person. No matter how strong he'd become, he was merely an extension of the mundane—never reaching the Miracles' level.
...
This was his limit!
Before Yuuto, his mediocrity was laid bare.
This cruel reality, combined with Murasakibara's merciless words, made him cry. Tears fell uncontrollably.
Seeing this, Murasakibara's anger evaporated instantly.
His expression showed surprise, but quickly returned to calm—he'd sensed this all along.
"Honestly, you people disgust me from the bottom of my heart." His voice was even. "I'd noticed hints of it before, but I didn't expect it to be this bad."
Murasakibara straightened up and stood.
He addressed his teammates: "Just this once. The last time. I'll play to the end with you, Coach."
"Call me Coach!"
"Can I get a hair tie?"
...
"Is everything okay over there? Looks like they had an argument."
"No—now is when they'll be most dangerous."
Yuuto adjusted his wristband and led his team onto the court.
It was like destiny.
Murasakibara, who'd always squandered his talent, was finally experiencing the growth he needed—pushed by Himuro, who'd never possessed what he envied most.
"True enough. Their expressions are completely different from before." Iwamura noticed the transformation in Yōsen's entire team.
Their spirit was renewed.
Of course—after what happened, nothing could break Yōsen's fighting spirit until the final whistle.
"I'm going to crush you, Yuu-chin! Whether you beat Aka-chin and them or not, I'm going to beat you!"
Murasakibara tied back his long hair and stepped up to Yuuto, throwing down the gauntlet.
"I thought you hated me."
...
"Yeah, that hasn't changed. But you're stronger than me—I can tell that much."
Yuuto said nothing, watching Murasakibara walk past him.
"If we'd met at the Inter-High, this might've been more interesting. But my goal isn't you people anymore."
...
The game continued.
First possession after the timeout.
Yōsen immediately showed their transformation.
Himuro drew attention and dished to a teammate. Fukui relayed the ball into the paint.
"Isn't this exactly the same?" Someone was puzzled. Yōsen's timeout seemed pointless.
"No, there's been a change." A flash of surprise crossed Akashi's eyes.
Under the Emperor Eye's observation, Himuro cut rapidly toward the right corner—the weakest spot in Seihō's zone defense.
Simultaneously—
In the paint, Murasakibara noticed the black light hurtling toward him. Yuuto had locked on.
The next second—
He did something no one expected.
Smack!
The ball flew from his hands to Himuro in the corner.
A completely wide-open look.
"A turnover? Seihō actually left that kind of player open?"
"It wasn't leaving him open—it was a screen!"
Akashi had seen everything clearly. While everyone's attention was on Murasakibara and Yuuto—
Himuro's off-ball movement took him to the corner, where Tsugawa's pursuit was completely cut off by Okamura's screen.
It all happened in an instant. The team's coordination had jumped to another level.
Every change stemmed from Murasakibara becoming the playmaker, unlocking the team's offense.
"...!"
The shot fell. Yōsen showed everyone their transformation.
"Nice!"
"Great shot!"
The entire team pumped their fists in celebration.
Araki on the sideline also showed a satisfied expression.
This was the inside-out combination she wanted—1+1 greater than 2.
"I see—using Murasakibara, the only player who can react fast enough to keep up with Yuuto, as the facilitator, compressing Yuuto's help-defense time to some degree."
"Impressive thinking, Araki." Yamashita acknowledged he'd learned something.
Using Murasakibara—a player who'd always played with pure physicality—to do this precision work... wasn't she worried about turnovers?
Turnovers?
Of course she wasn't worried!
Araki exchanged glances with Yamashita, as if reading each other's minds.
They didn't fight unprepared battles. The reason they dared do this was because Murasakibara had shown potential as a playmaker during practice.
He wasn't a muscle-bound idiot—he was just too lazy to think. He possessed every talent a center could dream of.
What Murasakibara truly lacked was simply... motivation!
Yuuto's expression remained calm. He'd seen this before.
Murasakibara's talent was inherently exceptional, his learning ability equally strong.
This was a capability shown in the movie—he'd learned Okamura's post-up positioning and other techniques.
Brief as it was, and without much heart in it—
Those movements had been etched into his muscle memory, waiting to explode when needed.
...
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