13 – 10.
The gym erupted.
The crowd was on their feet, yelling, gasping, stunned.
Dirga raised a fist. Rei lowered his head in frustration, but Rikuya—he didn't celebrate.
He landed heavy.
Turned.
Faced Masaki.
Eyes steady.
Voice low.
"Talk more."
Masaki walked a step forward. Just a step.
And smiled.
"Nice. I'll destroy you."
The words lingered like smoke in the air.
Yuto didn't even flinch. He just took the ball on the inbound, eyes forward, posture low. The floor beneath his feet felt heavier now—not from pressure, but from purpose.
He brought the ball up slowly, calculating.
But Dirga was already waiting.
This wasn't the same Dirga from their first scrimmage. This Dirga's eyes were ice.
No wasted motion. No empty space.
He knew.
"I know how you think, Yuto."
In his past life, Toyonaka was his home.
Yuto wasn't just an opponent—he was a brother.
And that familiarity now became a blade.
Yuto tried to probe the right.
