The gym thundered with excitement as we stepped onto the court.
Across from us, the five Zenith starters stood like an elite military unit. Isaiah Dumont at the front—stoic, sharp-eyed, and terrifyingly calm. Behind him, Leonard, Ryoga, Sudo, and the massive Emir Al-Fayad. It felt like we were about to battle a fortress, not a basketball team.
The announcers were already hyping the matchup.
"And there they are! The Titans of Horizon stepping onto the floor—Dirgantara Renji, the Maestro; Rei Hoshino, the silent sniper; Haruto Aizawa, the enforcer; Taiga Okabe, the wrecking ball; and Rikuya Asano, the Titan!"
"Against the towering wall that is Osaka International Zenith, captained by Isaiah Dumont—arguably the best perimeter defender in the country. Horizon thrives on chaos. Zenith thrives on control. This is going to be a war of ideologies."
We took our positions. Rikuya and Emir faced off at the circle.
The referee tossed the ball.
Rikuya got his fingertips on it—but Emir smacked it right back.
First possession: Zenith ball.
Isaiah walked it up with cold poise. I slid in front of him, bracing myself.
The moment I reached for a jab...
He slapped my hand away—clean.
They started with a weave. Leonard cut baseline, Ryoga flared to the wing. Isaiah fired a bounce pass—Ryoga caught, quick release.
I brought the ball up, locked in.
As soon as I crossed halfcourt, Isaiah stepped into me. His arms were everywhere. I couldn't see a passing lane.
Okay. Trust the rhythm.
I faked right—then popped the ball back to Rei with a quick one-touch bounce. He caught it, immediately swung it to Aizawa.
Quick motion, back to me.
Then to Taiga, who dropped it inside.
Rikuya posted, spun—hook shot.
But not good enough to shake Zenith.
Next play: Emir set a high screen. Isaiah used it like a pro. I fought under—he stopped, pulled up.
"Stay on him!" Coach shouted.
"I'm trying!" I hissed back.
Their defense was worse. Isaiah blanketed me—his wingspan made it feel like I was dribbling in a cage. Every time I moved, he mirrored.
I passed off early this time, avoiding the trap. Rei moved off-ball but his shot was swallowed by Leonard.
Ryoga flew down the court like lightning.
I glanced at Coach Tsugawa—he didn't panic. Just nodded. "One possession at a time."
Let's test the system.
Next play: I caught the inbound, quickly tossed it to Rei on a curl. No hold. Rei instantly kicked it to Aizawa in the short corner. One bounce—shot.
Momentum slowed slightly.
But the pain kept coming.
Zenith played like a machine.
Every time I passed, Isaiah slid to intercept. Ryoga hovered like a shadow near Rei. Emir clogged the paint.
They made us second guess everything.
By the midway mark of the first quarter, the score was 6–12. They weren't blowing us out—but we were working ten times harder to get each point.
I knew we couldn't keep this up.
That's when I gambled.
Next possession, I drove left—hard. Isaiah slid in immediately. But instead of looking to score, I fired a no-look one-touch pass back to Rei.
Finally, a clean hit.
Zenith didn't like that.
They pushed the pace. Sudo crashed inside, took Taiga to the post—fadeaway jumper.
Coach Tsugawa stood. "Hold the rhythm! Dirga, slow down the play next time!"
I nodded, trying to mask my frustration. My lungs were starting to burn.
Still too early to use Flow.
Next play, I passed to Hiroki, who'd just subbed in for Aizawa. We worked it around—swing pass to Rei again.
The game was still close, but the pressure? Insane.
With one minute left in the quarter, I brought the ball up, tried to split a trap—and Isaiah struck.
He bolted down the court, didn't even need a dribble.
The backboard rattled.
Commentators screamed.
"That's Isaiah Dumont! A guard with the length of a center and the instincts of a thief!"
This was going to be the toughest game of my life.
As the buzzer rang to end the first quarter, the score was:
Horizon 14 – Zenith 18
We'd held on—but the wall was still standing.
And I was still trying to find the door.