Chapter 136: This Is Fate
A hush settled over the arena.
"It went quiet in there."
"Makes sense. After watching Akashi do that, what is there to say."
"One person, in a single moment, changing the entire direction of a game."
The Ryonan section sat in stunned silence along with the rest of the gymnasium. This was what it meant to say the Generation of Miracles' captain was something else entirely.
"But Touou still has a chance." Yagami's voice was measured. "There's a minute and a half left and it's their ball. The problem is—"
"If this next possession gets shut down too, they lose all momentum for good." Sendoh finished the thought.
Transition. Touou offense.
Every possession mattered now. And reclaiming the initiative started with this one.
Imayoshi pushed through half court. Rakuzan immediately sent two defenders to double-team him.
"This must be a pretty unusual sight for Touou—"
"Their ace Aomine Daiki is in a one-on-one with Akashi on the wing, and it's captain Imayoshi Shoichi who's getting trapped by the double-team!"
"Hayama and Mibuchi's combined defense is suffocating. The pressure on Imayoshi's playmaking is enormous!"
"At this rate he can't even think about organizing an attack. Just holding onto the ball looks difficult enough—"
"Imayoshi!" Susa Yoshinori came forward to offer a release.
Imayoshi seized the moment, raising the ball and threatening a high pass.
Hayama slid across to cut off the angle. Imayoshi brought it back, dropped his shoulder, and tried to break left.
THUD.
He ran into Mibuchi Reo. The referee stayed quiet. Imayoshi used the rebound off the contact to create a sliver of space, but Hayama was already back.
Imayoshi grabbed the ball one-handed, barely balanced, and fired it before his feet were fully set.
The ball passed through Hayama's side.
But—
"The pass is off!"
"That's what happens when you try to hit Aomine through a double-team like that. Too much to ask for!"
Akashi pivoted quickly to collect the errant pass. In the instant he had the ball and was about to push in transition—
CRACK.
Aomine's hand came from underneath, striking the ball upward from below. The ball left Akashi's grip and shot into the air.
"He knocked it loose!"
"YES! Getting it back from up high is something Akashi can't do!" The Touou bench erupted.
Aomine jumped and caught the ball at its peak. But he knew exactly what came next. The moment he landed and moved to his next action, Akashi would cut it away again.
"Damn."
"You understand, don't you, Daiki." Akashi tracked his every movement. "That ball is still inside my control."
Aomine felt it. He launched the ball toward the basket from the air.
"? ? ?"
"What is that?! Is that a shot?! No—it's a pass!"
The ball flew toward the right side of the rim.
Wakamatsu Kosuke's heart lurched. Among all of Touou, his relationship with Aomine was the worst. That was simply the reality. But this ball was coming toward him, right over his head—
"I'll die before I drop this!"
"AHHH!"
Wakamatsu wrestled with Nebuya Eikichi at the paint, his body detonating with a sudden burst of force as he fought for position, jumped, and pulled the ball down with both hands.
"That probably should have been a direct tip-in." Yagami murmured.
Wakamatsu landed, drove one hard dribble into the paint, shoved back against Nebuya, and went back up to throw the ball through the rim.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
Nebuya jumped for the second time and got both hands on the ball.
"BLOCKED!"
Aomine tried to cut into the paint but Akashi had him completely wrapped up.
"Wakamatsu!"
At the absolute last possible moment, Imayoshi cut to the basket with no defender attached.
Wakamatsu heard the call, pivoted under the pressure of two hands pushing against him, and shoved the ball in a different direction. Under the simultaneous force of two centers the ball skipped to the left side of the free-throw area.
But Hayama and Mibuchi were still flanking Imayoshi.
FLICK.
Imayoshi didn't catch it. He tipped it sideways, redirecting the ball to Susa Yoshinori who had space outside.
"Susa!" Imayoshi called out.
Three seconds on the shot clock.
Mayuzumi Chihiro rushed out to cut off the angle. If he could contest this, the game was over.
"I know." Susa rose. "Three years together. We have at least this much of a connection."
The ball sailed above the outstretched hands of three Rakuzan players and dropped into the corner.
Sakurai Ryo. No one on him.
"Go in." Sakurai jumped. He pulled the trigger without a breath of hesitation.
"Go in!" Every Touou voice in the building willed it.
SWISH.
Pure. Three points.
Touou 95, Rakuzan 93.
The tide turned again.
"A basket that brings Touou right back to life! From Touou's first-year—Sakurai Ryo!"
"Ugh. That kid again." Ikegami clicked his tongue.
"You can never stop counting on that first-year in the moments that matter." Koshino said, expression grave.
Hikoichi Aida watched with wide eyes and a clenched fist. He could be that. No—he would be that.
Beyond the basket itself, there was a second piece of good news for Touou. The possession had taken enough time that with one minute left, even if Rakuzan scored, Touou would still have a full possession to respond.
The pressure now was on Rakuzan.
Transition. Rakuzan offense.
Akashi brought the ball up as if the three-pointer hadn't happened. No rush, no break in rhythm.
Aomine planted himself in front of Akashi, expression unchanged.
"Good, Daiki." Akashi spoke. "You understand. That was just a three-pointer."
"More surprising to me than the shot was that you actually passed it to someone else."
"Tch. That ball was intended for me." Aomine's tone was flat. "If you weren't standing in my way, I would have gotten it."
Akashi didn't engage with the response. He stepped back suddenly, creating separation, and went straight into a pull-up jumper.
"He's going up?!"
Aomine launched simultaneously, arm raised, fingers reaching toward Akashi's face.
"Don't disrespect me like that."
CRACK.
Akashi didn't shoot. He threw the ball hard into the floor.
Hayama Kotaro caught the bounce pass and blinked. After everything he had seen from Akashi in the last two minutes, he had genuinely stopped expecting the ball.
But he wasn't wrong.
Akashi had already landed and was moving past Aomine before the ball reached Hayama's hands. Before Hayama could react, Akashi reached out and took the ball straight back.
"Huh?"
Susa immediately stepped up to help.
"Down."
CRACK.
Akashi's consecutive crossovers dissolved Susa's balance in an instant. He was past him and driving directly to the basket.
Wakamatsu stepped out of the paint to cut off the angle.
Akashi shaped a pass. At the last moment, his release hand drove the ball into the floor at a downward angle.
CRACK.
The ball passed through Wakamatsu's legs, and in the same motion Akashi used Wakamatsu's body to pivot, slipping into the paint and collecting the ball in the same fluid sequence.
"He separated the man from the ball! How fast was that!"
Aomine had been held up by Wakamatsu in the chaos.
SWISH.
Akashi rose and softly rolled the ball through the net with a gentle wrist.
Touou 95, Rakuzan 95.
Forty seconds left.
Transition. Touou offense.
"Bleed the clock." Imayoshi's instinct was clear. But Rakuzan's double-team was already collapsing on him the instant he crossed half court.
"Give it to me!" Aomine didn't wait for the ball to come to him. He stepped forward to receive.
"Only one option."
Imayoshi made the pass.
Aomine caught it. Imayoshi immediately pulled everyone else away to clear space.
Again.
Aomine and Akashi. One on one.
Aomine lowered his center of gravity as far as it would go and began working the ball in tight, measured bounces, trying to shift Akashi's weight. When nothing moved, he stopped searching and committed.
His right foot drove into the floor.
"SO FAST!"
Courtside spectators gasped. Aomine's burst was a streak of motion through residual images, forcing himself past Akashi's side through sheer explosive power.
Hayama was late by a full beat to recognize what happened.
"Move."
Akashi's sharp command froze Hayama where he stood. Akashi had not fully lost position despite the force of Aomine's first step. He was still attached at Aomine's hip.
CRACK.
Aomine exploded the ball into the floor, ran an inside-outside dribble, and used the rhythm change to create the separation he needed as he pushed into the paint.
"Not a chance!" Nebuya bellowed as he stormed into Aomine's path.
A flash in Aomine's eyes. He planted one step inside the free-throw line and left the ground.
Pure collision.
BOOM.
Both bodies met in the air. Aomine's arm swung through a full arc and drove the ball down through the rim against the contact.
Touou 97, Rakuzan 95.
Aomine had not managed the clock. Eighteen seconds left.
Transition. Rakuzan offense.
Akashi raised his hand toward the sideline to stop Coach Shirogane from calling timeout. Touou wouldn't call one either, not with this margin and this time—giving Rakuzan eighteen extra seconds to think would be worse.
"Defense! Defense!"
"Stop them here!"
"Hold this and the game is over!"
Touou's collective energy surged to its peak. All five in position, ready.
"Stopping Rakuzan means stopping Akashi."
Aomine stood at the arc, chest rising and falling hard. The deep blue of his eyes carried something almost violent, as if every gram of exhaustion in his body had been incinerated by the final seconds closing in.
"Come on then, Akashi."
Akashi received the ball on the right side of the arc, running his dribble with unhurried rhythm.
BOUNCE. BOUNCE. BOUNCE.
Seconds fell away. Akashi's pace was deliberate, at times seemingly slowed on purpose.
Aomine's weight sat in his heels, footwork mirroring every shift like a shadow, never surrendering the defensive position, never leaving a gap.
Akashi tested left. Aomine sealed it. Akashi faked right with his shoulder. Aomine didn't flinch.
Eight seconds.
Rakuzan's other players began to move.
Mibuchi Reo used Hayama's screen to shake Sakurai and arrived at the left side of the arc, right hand raised as a target.
Mayuzumi moved through the paint with purpose, looking for a moment—even a fraction of a second—to serve as a relay and send the ball elsewhere.
Akashi's dribble rhythm shifted, wrist bending slightly back, creating distance from Aomine.
Five seconds.
"Right here."
Nebuya fought for deep post position. If the three didn't fall, one more offensive board would still win it.
Touou understood this perfectly. Letting Mibuchi receive unchallenged would end the game. The natural instinct in the building was to slide toward him.
Imayoshi had already moved half a step in that direction.
But Aomine hadn't moved at all. His eyes stayed locked on Akashi's shoulder, elbow, wrist.
"This moment. You are not giving that ball to anyone else."
Akashi's passing motion extended toward Mibuchi, right hand pushing the ball outward in his direction. His eyes flicked toward Mayuzumi at the free-throw line.
"Don't tell me at a moment like this—!" A flash of doubt ran through Aomine's focus.
Akashi's wrist stopped. Five fingers snapped back around the ball. His weight shifted back and compressed, then released everything into a vertical jump.
"You believe in yourself." Aomine left the ground without hesitation and closed on Akashi's release point. "And I believe I can stop you."
Akashi had Aomine's arm cutting across his face, and his expression didn't change. Behind his heterochromatic eyes: the arc of Aomine's blocking palm, the position of the rim, and the single thread of open space remaining between them.
The ball came off his fingertips.
TICK.
A sound only Aomine heard. His fingertips registered it clearly—the distinct sensation of ball leather making contact.
He had touched it.
"REBOUND!"
Before the word was fully out of Aomine's mouth, Susa and Imayoshi had already thrown themselves toward the basket.
The ball was spinning irregularly as it approached the rim.
CLANG.
It struck the right front edge of the rim with a heavy, dull sound.
And didn't bounce out.
The ball followed the inner curve of the rim, rotating slowly.
One revolution.
Two.
Time seemed to stretch impossibly thin. The entire building fell silent. The only sound was the faint metallic hiss of the ball scraping against the iron ring—a small, precise sound that stopped every heart in the gymnasium.
Third revolution.
The ball lost the last of its momentum. It tilted, just barely, toward the inside.
And dropped through the net.
Three points.
Touou 97, Rakuzan 98.
BEEEEP.
The final buzzer sounded.
Rakuzan wins. A last-second comeback.
Akashi Seijuro slowly lowered the arm still holding his follow-through, then turned with complete composure toward Aomine, whose expression had gone rigid, his pupils wide and still.
"This is fate." A faint curve appeared at the corner of Akashi's mouth, then settled back into calm.
"I did touch it..." Aomine held the position of his landing, staring at his own fingertips. He could not reconcile what his nerves had told him with what had just happened on the scoreboard. He had felt the contact. He knew he had.
"National High School Athletics Championship Basketball Tournament. Second round, Court C winner—"
"Rakuzan High School!"
Touou Academy. National High School Athletics Championship Basketball Tournament. Quarterfinal exit.
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