The tunnel was colder than it should’ve been.
Even with the overhead lights humming and the rubber soles squeaking faintly on concrete, the air felt still—unnaturally still.
Dirga bounced the ball once.
The echo didn’t come back right.
Ahead, the court waited, a bright rectangle under artificial sun. But something about it felt distant. Like it wasn’t inviting them in.
Like it was watching.
Aizawa stood beside him, stretching out his shoulders. Calm. Measured.
But he hadn’t spoken in three minutes.
Coach Tsugawa walked past them toward the bench. He didn’t give a speech.
They knew what this was.
Not a statement game.
The announcer’s voice crackled through the speaker system above.
"Now taking the court—Nagano Kurotsuki High and Toyonaka Horizon!"
The crowd clapped—politely.
Just a murmur, like someone dragging their fingers across sand.
Dirga stepped forward.
Kurotsuki had already taken the court.
But they weren’t warming up.
They were just... standing there.
Positioned. Set. Motionless.
Five statues in moonlight-white uniforms stood across the court.
Not even eye contact.
As if they’d been there long before the game started.
As if they weren’t warming up—
They were watching Horizon walk into their own trap.
Aizawa muttered under his breath.
"...This doesn’t feel like a basketball game."
Dirga glanced sideways.
"No," he said. "It feels like we walked into someone else’s dream."
They were about to burn it down.
Warm-up – Yoyogi Court One
Horizon began their prep—layup lines, shooting drills, high-arcing passes between teammates. The rhythm was solid. Sharp. Steady.
But Dirga’s eyes never left the other end of the court.
Kurotsuki had started warming up too.
If you could call it that.
No shouting. No counting reps. No bursts of energy.
They moved like clockwork—quiet, eerie, synchronized without looking at each other.
The three Sayaka warned them about.
The Shadow Shooter—Hiroki Taniguchi.
He barely moved during warm-ups. Just drifted from wing to corner, catching balls mid-step, releasing before his feet even settled. Every shot? Clean.
The Trap Setter—Toshiro Nishimura.
Didn’t shoot at all. Just mimed closeouts. Practiced rotations. Set invisible screens for teammates who didn’t need them. It looked meaningless... but Dirga could feel it.
The Wall That Breathes—Shō Kurose.
No dunks. No block attempts. Just slow, perfectly timed box-out footwork. He didn’t move like a center preparing to fight.
He moved like someone who already knew how the fight would end.
The whistle echoed through the stadium like a pin dropped in a temple.
Horizon walked to the bench. No handwarmers. No swagger.
Just five players stepping forward—shoulders squared, minds clear.
Starting Lineup – Toyonaka Horizon High
Dirga, Point GuardKaito, Shooting GuardAizawa, Small ForwardTaiga, Power ForwardRikuya, Center
Dirga stepped toward the circle and slowly scanned the opposition.
His vision sharpened.
[Echo System: Opponent Scanning Initiated...]
Age: 16Height:Weight:Attributes:Inside Scoring: BShooting: BPlaymaking: A+Defense: CPhysical: AMentality: A
Hiroki Taniguchi (SG)
Age: 17Height: 183Weight: 76Attributes:Inside Scoring: AShooting: SSPlaymaking: BDefense: CPhysical: AMentality: SS
Age: 16Height:Weight:Attributes:Inside Scoring: BShooting: BPlaymaking: CDefense: BPhysical: AMentality: A
Toshiro Nishimura (PF)
Age: 17Height: 188Weight: 81Attributes:Inside Scoring: BShooting: BPlaymaking: CDefense: SSPhysical: AMentality: S
Age: 17Height: 193Weight: 94Attributes:Inside Scoring: AShooting: APlaymaking: CDefense: SPhysical: SMentality: S
Dirga’s breath slowed.
On paper, it looked like a disaster waiting to happen.
But he smiled faintly.
"Stats don’t win games."
The referee stepped into the circle.
Ball in hand. Whistle at his lips.
The kind of quiet that thickened the air.
Kurotsuki stood in formation. Still. Calm. Shadows in motionless moonlight.
Dirga cracked his neck. Rikuya adjusted his stance.
Across from him, Shō Kurose stood upright. No crouch. No pre-jump tension.
The ball soared into the air.
Rikuya and Shō leapt—
Dirga caught it mid-stride and pushed forward.
He called for a high screen from Taiga, who rolled early—Kaito lifted from the corner, Aizawa cut baseline. The movement felt right.
He bounced a pass to Aizawa under the rim—clean lane—
Toshiro was already there.
Aizawa stopped mid-gather, caught in hesitation.
Then passed out late—too late.
Ryōta tipped it, Taniguchi grabbed it in stride.
No shouting. No chaos.
Just silence and two perfect passes later—
Dirga jogged back upcourt.
They didn’t pressure.
Dirga slowed it down. Motion set.
This time, Taiga slipped inside early—Dirga drove left and kicked out—
Contest. Miss. Rebound Kurose.
"...I didn’t even see him shift."
Eiji Yamazaki brought it up—
Measured like breath.
Like the floor itself had already told him how this play would unfold.
Dirga dropped into a low stance.
Eyes scanning—peripheral lines burning.
But Yamazaki didn’t test the defense.
The Shadow Shooter caught the ball on the wing.
Like the shot was already in motion before the ball ever touched his fingers.
From six feet behind the arc.
Dirga’s body twitched.
"deep three from Taniguchi!"
"No hesitation. No setup. Just rhythm. He’s not warming up—he’s executing."
Horizon was moving faster now.
Rikuya tried a seal and swing to Aizawa—who caught it on the elbow.
He jabbed. Drove right.
Not blocking. Just... there.
Deflection. Loose ball.
Kurotsuki recovered. Another transition. Another two.
On the bench, Sayaka muttered to herself.
"They’re not reading our plays."
"They’re reading our thoughts."
Back on court, Dirga gathered the team at halfcourt.
"Slow down," he hissed.
"They’re not attacking us. We’re giving it to them."
Aizawa’s jaw clenched. "They’re making us doubt."
"No," Dirga said. "We’re making ourselves hesitate."
He stared down the baseline.
"No more hesitation."
He called the next play—not a read, not a motion, not a reaction.
Time to test their wall.