Kick to Aizawa—far wing.
He backpedaled slowly.
To the weight of five defenders trying to anticipate something—
That hadn’t even been called.
If I can keep them guessing... I can slow them.
Kaito peeled off the bench.
Hands already clenching.
"KAITO IS CHECKING BACK IN!"
"The fire returns to the floor—just in time! Horizon holds the edge, but Kurotsuki’s pulse is rising!"
Dirga’s heart kicked—
Because Kaito wasn’t just energy.
And if Dirga could conduct the beat—
Kaito could burn through the silence.
Just a rhythm transfer.
Dirga turned back to the court.
Taniguchi: drifting far corner like a ghost.
Toshiro: already shifting angles.
It felt like Horizon had a second breath.
Momentum. Rebuilding.
He didn’t wait for it to crest.
[TEMPO SIGHT – ACTIVE TRIGGER: GOD FRAME – 45 SECONDS]
The hardwood peeled open.
Timing lines flickered—
Blue for allies. Red for threats.
Defensive pressure surged at the edge of his vision.
But it wasn’t the play itself.
It was the foundation—
The silence before the storm.
Dirga’s pupils narrowed.
He didn’t see Kurotsuki.
He saw how they’d break.
Eiji held the ball up top.
Sho flashed high—ghost movement.
Just to pull Rikuya’s focus for half a second.
Toshiro began his curl early.
This wasn’t for a bucket.
Kaito stayed tight—shadowing with precision.
It wasn’t a backscreen for the wing.
Kurotsuki didn’t want points.
They wanted Sho at the elbow—
Toshiro opposite pocket.
Dirga didn’t chase the pass.
He chased the space behind it.
Straight into the vacuum Kurotsuki thought they’d created.
But Dirga was already there.
The crowd didn’t erupt.
But the Horizon bench stood.
Because that wasn’t a stop.
That was a statement.
Dirga exploded upcourt.
Kaito filled the opposite lane—blazing fast, dragging Taniguchi in his wake.
Taiga broke early to the slot.
Rikuya held back, just enough to pull Sho half a step off his timing.
Aizawa curled across.
But Dirga wasn’t done.
He pulled both defenders into his gravity well.
Not with force, but with rhythm.
Kaito looped behind him—
Thread-the-needle bounce.
"DIRGA WITH THE SPECIAL EYES! That wasn’t a pass—that was a break in reality!"
"He didn’t play the court—he rewrote it! HE IS THE MAESTRO!"
"Kurotsuki thought they were still leading the rhythm..."
"But Dirga just composed a new score—and played it in real time!"
[Godframe Timer: 00:14 Remaining]
Toshiro flashed low—quick and sharp.
Sho drifted up the elbow—deliberate, heavy.
Taniguchi curled like smoke—fake flare screen.
Dirga’s vision seared.
Red threads looped and flickered—
not plays—but consequences.
He didn’t chase the ball.
He chased the inevitability.
Sho’s lane. Cut. Closed.
Rikuya slid back in—just enough.
Toshiro kicked it out—
Dirga scooped the live ball—
But the defense was already folding in—
wings tightening like a trap.
[Godframe Timer: 00:05 Remaining]
Behind-head pass—blind but precise—
Exactly where the silence had space.
Dirga didn’t use it to react.
He used it to compose.
Kurotsuki didn’t panic.
They returned like breath filling a lung.
Eiji stepped in. Called the stagger.
Sho ghost-screened the corner.
Kaito turned to look—
Not at the scoreboard.
But his eyes sparked.
Dirga tapped his hip.
"We return the favor."
Dirga crossed midcourt slow, palm cradling the ball.
Kaito slid beside him.
Aizawa ghost screened.
Kaito flared. Caught.
Two defenders flashed hard.
Dirga dove behind the collapse.
Catch. No gather. Push to Taiga.
Sho set early at the elbow.
Toshiro faked the flare—then reversed.
Dirga jogged the ball up.
Aizawa dropped dunker’s spot.
Crossover. Crossover.
Toshiro hedged. Sho braced.
Spun left. Split the gap.
Two defenders dodged.
Taniguchi dropped late—too late.
[Phantom Drive Passive Effect: The Untouchable – ACTIVATED]
But the floor blurred.
Taniguchi turned—ghosted.
Dirga sliced through the paint like a blade.
"He didn’t just burn past them—he evaporated!"
"That’s Drive’s is Untouchable!"
Final Kurotsuki possession.
Eiji tried a stagger high.
The ball went to Toshiro.
Rikuya cleaned the board.
Aizawa sprinted sideline.
Kaito filled weak corner.
Sho caught the tail—then missed the read.
Dirga stepped through.
Floated. Final layup.
Toyonaka Horizon High 50 - Nagano Kurotsuki High41
Kaito jogged off, chest rising slow.
But he didn’t clutch his ribs.
Dirga bumped his shoulder.
The tempo didn’t belong to either team.
It belonged to the one
who walked through three defenders