After landing, Shintaro Midorima's expression shifted slightly, but he still stepped up to defend.
'Damn it, if only I could go for an alley-oop!'
Miyamoto seemed to know exactly what Shintaro Midorima was thinking.
"Don't assume I have no answer to alley-oops. I have plenty of ways to break your full-court alley-oop plays."
"You've already seen the first one."
"With Murasakibara and Anthony standing in front of your partner, they can shut it down without even doing anything."
"And why do you think you've been able to receive the pass? With Kiyoshi Miyaji's ability, do you really think he could get the ball past Murasakibara and Anthony to you?"
Shintaro Midorima's thoughts raced, then his eyes widened suddenly.
"You..."
Miyamoto nodded, looking somewhat helpless.
"I originally wanted to let you get used to the Zone and see how strong you've become."
"But now it seems I was wrong. Those plays are too much of a burden on you."
"So from here on, we won't be holding back anymore."
"Midorima, get some rest."
With that, Miyamoto shot the ball right in front of Shintaro Midorima.
Shintaro Midorima didn't move at all, still lost in what Miyamoto had just said.
Right. There's no way Miyaji could have passed the ball to me so easily in front of Atsushi Murasakibara and Dicky Anthony.
So... it was all part of Kirisaki Daiichi's design.
But soon, reason took over his thoughts again.
Kirisaki Daiichi really was far stronger than them, so they could control part of the game's flow.
For example, letting him receive the ball to get used to the Zone.
They were strong, so they could afford to do that.
If they were weak, would they dare?
So Shintaro Midorima quickly let it go.
But he still had no intention of admitting defeat.
It also proved what he had once said.
"Do everything you can, defy fate, and leave the rest to what comes next!"
At that moment, his gaze hardened again, and his fighting spirit reignited.
Miyamoto sensed the change in him and rubbed his forehead in resignation.
Seriously, how did even you turn into a hot-blooded idiot.
The old Shintaro Midorima had always been the most rational, the least emotional.
He simply followed fate and did his part.
All he needed to do was make every three-pointer. Nothing else mattered.
But now things were different.
Shintaro Midorima was no longer someone who followed fate.
He was going to defy it.
And he was no longer just a boy who only needed to shoot threes.
Now, he was the one carrying the hopes of the entire Shūtoku team. The ace.
.......
Possession changes.
This time, Taisuke Otsubo takes the inbound.
Shūtoku needs to free Kiyoshi Miyaji to provide "aerial support" for Shintaro Midorima.
Taisuke Otsubo stands out of bounds and takes a deep breath.
He focuses, his gaze seeming to pierce through Atsushi Murasakibara and Dicky Anthony.
Then his eyes sharpen, and he quickly throws the ball.
Atsushi Murasakibara reaches out to intercept, brushing the ball and knocking it off its path.
Taisuke Otsubo is startled.
"He actually got a touch on it."
The ball veers off and rolls toward the sideline.
Seeing this, the Kirisaki Daiichi players relax slightly, ready to wait for Shūtoku to inbound again.
Just as the ball is about to go out of bounds, a figure rushes in.
It's Shinsuke Kimura.
With a strained expression, Shinsuke Kimura charges at the ball.
At the very edge, he hooks it back, twisting his body with effort and throwing it back onto the court.
He crashes hard onto the floor.
"Kimura!"
Kiyoshi Miyaji catches the ball and calls out in concern.
Shinsuke Kimura lifts his head, his face twisted in pain. It is unclear whether it is from the fall or something else.
He shouts hoarsely:
"Offense!"
Kiyoshi Miyaji grits his teeth and forces himself to look away. He turns, his focus razor-sharp, and looks upward.
In the air, Shintaro Midorima has already jumped, making a shooting motion with empty hands.
His expression is grim, and the lightning in his eyes flickers wildly.
It is obvious that prolonged use of the Zone and shots beyond his physical limits have pushed his body to the brink.
But he does not want to stop. He wants to keep going.
There is a force inside him. A fire burning.
Kiyoshi Miyaji locks in completely and passes toward Shintaro Midorima's empty hand.
Just as everyone thinks the ball is about to reach him, something unexpected happens.
Smack.
A sharp sound echoes.
But it is not the sound of Shintaro Midorima catching the ball.
It is the sound of Miyamoto stealing it.
Miyamoto stands directly in the passing lane between Kiyoshi Miyaji and Shintaro Midorima, facing Miyaji. He extends his left hand and catches the ball cleanly.
Ignoring the tremor in Miyaji's eyes, he says calmly:
"It's for Midorima's own good. So let's not let him shoot."
Mid-air, Shintaro Midorima is stunned as well.
'He actually intercepted it.'
After the steal, Miyamoto does not attack immediately. With his back to Shintaro Midorima, he speaks calmly.
"Midorima, I admit your shooting is troublesome."
"But if you can't even receive the ball, then what use is that shot you're so proud of?"
With that, he makes a clean, decisive motion and releases the ball.
Swish.
Three points.
After scoring, Miyamoto slowly turns around and looks at Shintaro Midorima seriously.
"Now that you can't receive the ball, what can you do next?"
Shintaro Midorima clenches his teeth.
No longer someone who accepts fate, he forces the words out:
"Of course there is! We can still use hand..."
Crack.
In the next instant, the lightning in his eyes goes wild, then gradually fades.
Exhaustion floods his entire body. His legs give out.
The ground disappears beneath him as he collapses.
Just as he is about to hit the floor.
Miyamoto catches him.
"Hand-to-hand passes? Even then, someone has to protect the ball."
"Do you think your teammates can hold onto it against Nijimura-senpai and the others until you get there?"
"And more importantly, in your current condition..."
"Can you really keep playing?"
......
...
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