Rakuzan tried to bait contact again—
But Horizon avoided it like a dance.
Clean movement. Measured rhythm.
Every foul Rakuzan wanted to fish—was a ghost in their hands.
The game is electrifying—Rakuzan’s relentless press is suffocating, while Horizon fights desperately to break through and score. Every possession is a war, with Rakuzan crashing the paint like a storm, determined to dominate.
Rakuzan 65 – Horizon 63.
The gym was a furnace—packed with breath, heat, and the tension of a single shot.
Kaito staggered toward the bench, one hand pressed to his ribs, the other wiping sweat from his eyes. His chest rose and fell in ragged waves.
Coach Tsugawa met his gaze.
No dramatic words. Just a nod.
The crowd clapped—not loud, not wild. Just... respectful. Because everyone saw it.
Kaito had given everything.
Dirga stepped in front of him. Shoulder bump. No smile.
Kaito forced a tired grin. "Keep the rhythm going."
Substitution: Kaito OUT. Aizawa IN.
Substitution: Taiga OUT. Rikuya IN.
Rikuya, already carrying four fouls.
Aizawa, smaller, but fast and smart.
No anchor. No cushion.
Coach Tsugawa trusted them.
He bet it all on speed and symphony.
Dirga glanced up at the clock:
Every second was now a beat in a symphony with no repeats
Like lightning under skin.
Noise became a low hum, like waves behind glass.
His heartbeat vanished.
Here comes THE Maestro
Dirga met him, feet set.
Rakuzan immediately looked for the mismatch.
They went after Rikuya—again.
Drive. Contact. Shoulder in.
Kick out. Tsukasa tried to curl around Aizawa.
Dirga appeared in the lane.
The pass was intercepted.
Dirga didn’t dribble.
The defense tried to rotate—too slow.
Layup. Finger roll. Clean.
Rakuzan slowed it now.
This wasn’t just Horizon trying to survive.
This was Horizon—ascending.
They passed around the perimeter, trying to bait the defense,
forcing Rikuya into switching out.
Then Tsukasa drove hard. Rikuya in position—again, vertical.
Ref pointed to the bench.
Rikuya’s head dropped.
Substitution: Rikuya OUT
Taiga IN (despite 4 fouls)
Coach Tsugawa exhaled through his nose.
Dirga clenched his fists.
Aizawa just nodded, rhythm unchanged.
Score: Rakuzan 66 – Horizon 65
Hiroki ran a double back screen into a sharp cut, dragged both defenders.
Dirga slipped left, cross-step, drive.
Rakuzan tried to trap.
He passed behind the back—Aizawa caught it.
No hesitation. Three-pointer.
Score: Rakuzan 66 - Horizon 68
Rakuzan 66 – Horizon 68
The net still shimmered from Aizawa’s shot when Asahi stormed up the court.
No timeout. No pause.
Just raw retaliation.
Dirga turned. Their eyes locked—one step ahead of the game, both of them.
Dirga shadowed him, feet gliding like he was skating across air.
Asahi jabbed. Crossed. Crossed again.
The Flow State sharpened his senses to a blade’s edge.
The crowd roared around them, but Dirga only heard the heartbeat of the game.
Asahi drove baseline—then spun into the lane.
Elevated. Midair clash.
Ball stripped clean in midair.
Gasps exploded from the stands.
Dirga snagged the loose ball and took off.
He didn’t see a wall.
Aizawa sprinted wide—Asahi tailed him.
Rei was in the corner. Hiroki cut hard to the short corner.
But Dirga didn’t pass.
Step-through. Euro. Hang in the air.
**Contact—**No whistle.
The crowd erupted—a noise like a dam bursting.
Rakuzan didn’t hesitate.
Reiji Kaname, fire in his veins, raced down and pulled up from deep.
Dirga turned too late.
Coach Tsugawa didn’t call timeout.
Dirga clapped once. "Move."
Horizon moved like extensions of his will. No signals. Just rhythm.
Rei screened. Hiroki rolled.
But Dirga saw Asahi shadowing him now. Tight. Unrelenting.
Dirga crossed. Between the legs. Drove.
Dirga stopped, sudden.
Asahi flew in—too aggressive.
Dirga twisted mid-air, fading away from contact.
He danced around Taiga, who couldn’t risk a fifth foul.
The clock was bleeding, second by second, heartbeat by heartbeat.
Dirga dribbled at the top.
Breathing slow. Calm.
Cross—cross—spin—drive—
Asahi met him in the paint.
Dirga elevated through it. Surged upward.
In midair—he twisted—
"Neither am I," Dirga replied.
Reiji caught the pass—wide open—
But Hiroki came flying in—last second—
Rakuzan looked frantic.
Tsukasa pulled up again.
Taiga rebounded, nearly losing it—but Aizawa saved it.
Eyes locked with Asahi one more time.
Rakuzan scored again—quick two from Araki.
Dirga didn’t slow down.
He waved everyone off.
Dirga walked to the line.
He looked at the rim.
Then closed his eyes.
Launched a desperate three.
Taiga grabbed the rebound.
Rakuzan 73 - Horizon 81
The stadium exploded.
Flow State faded—but the moment burned in.
Without perfect strategy.
They’d fought tooth and nail—and won.
And somewhere in the stands—
Scouts, coaches, rivals—
And whispered one word: