BEEP—
"Fourth quarter is about to begin. Players, please return to the court."
Aomine wiped his face. The intense game had clearly pushed him to his limit. He took a deep breath. Even for him — the ace of the Generation of Miracles — this situation was getting seriously tricky.
Without activating the Zone, Kise was already nearly his equal. And on top of that, Kaijo's overall team strength far surpassed Too's. Especially with Kota at the core of Kaijo's "horns" offense, Too still hadn't found a way to stop it. So far, their only answer had been to unleash Aomine's Zone to bulldoze through the issue. But if all of Aomine's energy went into defense, then their offense was toast. Honestly, Too was on the edge of the cliff. One misstep now, and they were done for.
As he walked back onto the court, Aomine tried to come up with a solution. But no matter how he looked at it...
"Me, Aomine Daiki… am I actually gonna lose?"
Oddly enough, even in the middle of this high-pressure situation, Aomine started laughing. Actually laughing.
"Ha! Man… this is actually kinda fun. So this is what it feels like to finally have a real rival."
Kota stared at Aomine, who was cackling mid-court, and muttered under his breath, "...Okay, what's wrong with this guy?"
"Wait, don't tell me he's got another trick up his sleeve...?!" Kota's expression froze. If Aomine really had something else hidden, Kaijo might be in trouble instead.
Kise noticed the look on Kota's face and clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax. I think I know what's going on with Aomine. That laugh of his? It's not the 'I've still got gas in the tank' kind. It's the 'I finally met someone who can beat me' kind."
Kota scratched his nose. "Yup. The Generation of Miracles is full of weirdos."
Kise was right—Aomine felt powerless. And that was new. Ever since awakening his talents in middle school, he hadn't felt anything like this. Is this what it's like to actually lose? Just the thought of it made him laugh.
"Alright then! Don't let me down now that we're in the final stretch!"
Kota glanced at Aomine to confirm he hadn't activated the Zone yet. Once he was sure, he motioned for his teammates to start their rotations. Without Zone, Aomine was still a threat, but he couldn't shut down all their plays.
As Kise and Kasamatsu both broke free at the same time, Kota sent a sharp pass straight to Kasamatsu at the perfect shooting pocket.
"Man, this guy's passes are just smooth" Kasamatsu thought, keeping a poker face as he launched a clean three-pointer. Nothing but net — Kaijo scored the first points of the fourth quarter!
Score: 85–81.
Aomine sighed. "Can't let my guard down for a second, huh."
Just as he said that, a flash of electricity crossed his eyes.
Kota, who had been keeping tabs on Aomine, immediately shouted, "Watch out—he's powered up!"
Yep, Aomine had activated the Zone. And in that state, he was hands-down the most dangerous player on the court. A few lightning-fast crossovers later—moves so sharp even the NBA would raise an eyebrow — he left Kise in the dust.
Kota rubbed his temples. "He can't keep that up for long. Hold the line!"
Truth be told, Kota hadn't even shown his full power in this game. First, because Aomine in the Zone was way over the top, making it hard for Kota—whose strength was team play—to shine. Second, Too had no idea how to pass a basketball. Their entire offensive philosophy boiled down to "every man for himself." It was like trying to play chess with five queens and no pawns—impressive, but chaotic.
Kota took a deep breath. Aomine might be in the Zone, but by the fourth quarter, both he and Kise were running on fumes. If Kise wore himself out fighting Aomine head-to-head, it could backfire. The smart move was to stall until Aomine burned out, then let Kise finish the job.
But their "horns" offense wasn't as effective against someone like Aomine, who could single-handedly ruin an entire sequence.
That left only one option.
After all, Kota wasn't just a master playmaker — he was also a pick-and-roll specialist.
Kota called up Kobori from the paint. Kobori immediately stepped up to set a screen. Kota used it, scanned the defense — wide open.
He rose for a quick pull-up jumper.
Swish.
Imayoshi, who had been defending Kota, was dumbfounded.
"Wait, this guy can shoot?!"
Since the first half, Kota had just been orchestrating plays and handing the ball off to Kise. In the second half, he mostly spent time chatting with Imayoshi while they jogged around. Imayoshi figured he was just a classic pass-first point guard with no offensive bite.
"Guess I was too chill, huh? No one's been seriously guarding me? That hurts, man. It really hurts. Right in the feels."
Kota made an exaggerated sad face.
Kasamatsu walked over and kicked him in the butt.
"Quit clowning around! One slip-up at the end and I will end you!"
Kota sniffled dramatically and gave Kasamatsu a wounded glare. He didn't dare talk back though.
After breaking through a triple team, Aomine jogged back on defense and frowned.
"If we can't shut Kota down, all my points mean nothing. Once I gas out, Kise's gonna blow this game open. If he couldn't open up the lead now, they were toast."
Imayoshi noticed Aomine's concern and stepped up.
"Don't worry, leave that guy to us. You focus on Kise."
Aomine glanced at him, then nodded slowly. That alone made Imayoshi's heart do a little happy dance. That's the first time Aomine's ever trusted someone else with a key role!
"Alright then, for the sake of our ace — I'm gonna lock you down!"
Imayoshi zeroed in on Kota, who once again called Kobori over.
"Same move? Not likely. This guy's got tricks."
This time, Imayoshi kept up with the play. As Kota prepared to gather for the shot, Imayoshi jumped — only for Kota to smile and lean into him.
"BEEP— Kaijo No. 2, shooting foul. Two free throws."
Imayoshi frowned. He walked right into that one. Kota had baited the block on purpose. And yep — he could already feel Aomine staring at him with judgmental disappointment from across the court.
Imayoshi adjusted his glasses nervously.
"Next time... I will stop him!"
...Unfortunately.
Halfway through the fourth, the score was 96–94. Kaijo still held the lead.
Aomine was dead silent, staring at Imayoshi.
Imayoshi looked ready to cry.
"I CAN'T STOP HIM, OKAY?! I JUST CAN'T!"
Ever since that foul, he'd been playing serious defense.
But Kota? Kota went on a clinic:
Screened Imayoshi and nailed a jumper.
Faked a shot, drew another foul.
Pump-faked and drained a shot right over him.
Hit a hesitation crossover, blew past him.
Imayoshi called Wakamatsu to double-team, then Kota dished it inside to Kobori for an easy score.
In just a few minutes, Kota had run the entire pick-and-roll playbook like he was showing off for a coaching seminar.
Imayoshi felt betrayed.
"Bro… I thought we were just vibing in the first half. You were holding back this whole time?!"
On the bench, Momoi hadn't relaxed her frown since Kaijo picked up momentum in the second quarter.
Back on the court, Aomine drove into the paint again and hit a tough floater over three defenders. But that shot drained the last bit of gas in his tank. He stumbled on landing, and the spark in his eyes — the Zone — was gone.
Too called for a timeout.
3 minutes left. Score: 108–102.
Kaijo still led.