The game resumed!
Kise advanced, dribbling the ball, his smile gleaming under the sun. There was no rush in his movements; he knew reaching the basket wouldn't be so simple. And, as he had foreseen, Aomine appeared in front of him, blocking the path with the agility of a predator on high alert.
"You're not getting past me…" Aomine said with a half-smile.
"Wanna bet?"
Kise spun his body, feinting a crossover. The move was fluid, but Aomine read it easily, forcing him to take a step back. However, before Aomine could react, Kise threw the ball behind him in a no-look pass.
Isagi was already there.
He moved as if he had anticipated everything seconds in advance, cutting across the court like a bolt of lightning. His [Metavision], still active, allowed him to see beyond the present, reading the near future with startling clarity.
Kuroko tried to intercept the pass with a quick tap, but Isagi dodged with a sharp twist of his hips, keeping control of the ball.
"Nice try," Isagi murmured, without even glancing at him.
Midorima raised his hand, signaling the shooting spot. Isagi saw it but hesitated.
He wanted to test how far he could go.
The ball bounced one last time on the floor before Isagi changed his rhythm. A sudden burst of speed, the sound of his footsteps slicing through the air. Aomine tried to intercept, but Isagi evaded with a body cut so swift it seemed like lightning.
Kise shouted, "Go, Isagicchi!"
And he went.
The leap came naturally, light, his body suspended for a moment that seemed almost too long to be human. His eyes focused, wrist twisting, the ball rising in a clean, steady arc.
Swish.
Two more points.
8–2.
Momoi watched from the stands, her heart racing. No one knew what was going through her mind, but the flush on her cheeks and her focused gaze gave a hint…
On the court, Aomine's eyes were more alive than ever.
"Let's keep going!"
The ball returned to play. Murasakibara advanced with slow but powerful steps, receiving a pass from Kuroko. The sharp sound of impact echoed as he began pushing Kise back, like a moving wall.
"Ugh… this guy's way too heavy!" Kise struggled, his feet sliding.
"Let me handle this…" Isagi said, stepping into the defensive line.
The contrast between the two was absurd—Murasakibara, a living fortress, against Isagi, a much smaller figure with flawless reflexes. Even so, when the giant attempted a hook shot, Isagi leaped, anticipating the angle.
The ball ricocheted back. A clean steal.
"Whoa, whoa…" Aomine muttered, incredulous. "He can even stop Murasakibara?"
Akashi was surprised by this too.
Isagi landed calmly and spun. The counterattack began.
Kise was already running down the left, Midorima down the right, both waiting for the pass. But Isagi didn't pass. The court opened up before him, spaces connecting as if invisible lines guided him.
The ball spun between his fingers, the pace quickening. A dribble, then another. Hesitation, cut, acceleration. Aomine and Kuroko's defense tried to close in, but he had already predicted their trajectories before they even moved.
He crossed the center of the court and leaped.
The ball rose in a perfect arc.
Swish.
11–2.
The silence lasted only a moment, broken by Kise's whistle.
"ISAGICCHI, YOU'RE A MONSTER!"
Midorima merely adjusted his glasses, trying to mask his astonishment. "Hmph. He's got talent, I'll admit. But I can still score more than him."
Akashi gave a faint smile. "Will you, now?"
On the other side, Aomine took a deep breath and grinned with all his might.
"Alright… this is actually getting exciting!"
He vanished.
A blue flash cut across the court, Aomine's body moving at absurd speed. Isagi kept up, but for a fraction of a second, he noticed something different. The two clashed again, dribble against defense, instinct against calculation. The sound was pure thunder—sneakers screeching, heavy breathing, sharp impacts.
Momoi barely blinked. The gleam in her eyes wavered between admiration and something deeper.
The tension on the court was almost palpable. The air vibrated with the exchange of energy between Aomine and Isagi, two predators in the same territory. Each dribble echoed like a thunderstorm, each breath seemed heavier.
But then, something changed.
Isagi paused for a brief moment, just long enough for Aomine, confident, to lunge for the steal, focusing on his movements for a split second before shifting to the ball. However, when the ball should have been there… it wasn't.
A second later, Midorima, who was open on the wing, realized the ball was in his hands, though even he didn't understand how it got there.
"…What?" Aomine muttered, frowning.
Kuroko, meanwhile, felt his heart race. That wasn't a coincidence.
Isagi had replicated his own technique, honed over years to master: [Misdirection], but in an even more refined form.
Kuroko always used blind spots, the focus of gazes, and the limited field of vision of opponents to "erase" himself from the game. But Isagi had something that set him apart entirely: [Metavision].
This ability allowed him to see the entire court simultaneously, as if every player were a data point connected in a vast network. He didn't just see positions; he saw lines of attention, movement vectors, and instantaneous blind spots. By understanding where everyone was looking, he could synchronize his own movements to slip through the gaps in human perception.
Kuroko had to actively hide.
Isagi, on the other hand, knew exactly when everyone would stop seeing him and could use it to make passes or even score.
It was as if he erased his own presence with mathematical precision.
When the ball returned to his hands, the crowd only noticed because the scoreboard changed.
Swish.
13–2.
The gym fell silent, broken only by the sharp sound of the ball hitting the floor.
The sound of the net still echoed as Isagi landed softly, his eyes fixed on the ball bouncing slowly.
Aomine clenched his fists, sweating.
"Tch… is he toying with us?"
Akashi remained impartial, observing in silence, his gaze clinical and sharp. "No. He's learning."
The ball returned to play, and within seconds, Aomine charged again. Kuroko followed in his own way, ready for the invisible pass that always caught everyone off guard.
But Isagi had already calculated everything through [Metavision].
When the ball vanished from Aomine's hands only to reappear in Kuroko's, Isagi was already there, intercepting the pass with a firm touch, as if he knew the exact second it would be thrown.
Kuroko was stunned.
The counterattack began.
Kise broke to the left, Midorima to the right, Akashi fell back, analyzing the positioning.
But Isagi didn't need to look.
His [Metavision] showed everything in real-time—the possible trajectories, the focus of each gaze, the perfect spot where the defense would open for less than half a second.
The ball spun in his hand.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked at Midorima.
Their eyes locked.
"Don't tell me…" Midorima began, adjusting his glasses.
The move came without warning. Isagi stepped back, tilted his body, and shot from an absurd distance, as far as Midorima himself would typically shoot.
The shot was perfect.
The ball soared through the air with pinpoint precision.
Swish.
Nothing but net.
"…"
Complete silence.
Midorima, motionless, stared at the spot where the ball had gone in.
"Impossible… even I wouldn't have confidence in that angle," he murmured.
Though everyone was stunned, the game wouldn't stop for that. But it continued, and everyone remained utterly perplexed.
Isagi used [Misdirection] to vanish from his opponents' eyes, Kuroko's pass timing, Aomine's offensive instinct, and now… Midorima's perfect shooting mechanics.
Every time he touched the ball, something unpredictable happened.
He leaped, spun, passed, or shot from places no sane person would attempt.
And every play ended with the same sound.
Swish.
18–2.
21–2.
24–2.
Kise panted, exhausted but laughing between breaths. "Isagicchi… you're getting way too scary, man!"
Aomine, despite his frustration, was also grinning. "Heh… are you really a soccer player? I'm pretty sure NBA players can't do half of what you're capable of!"
Isagi replied without looking.
"Obviously, everything I applied on the court can be applied to soccer by me. I just need to switch from hands to feet…"
The next play began.
Aomine came like a bolt of lightning, Murasakibara sealed the paint, Kuroko tried to hide the pass, but Isagi anticipated everything, dribbling the impossible, threading through the court's invisible spaces as if time moved at a different pace for him.
One dribble, two, three. He spun his body, leaped, and shot again from the three-point line.
The ball flew in utter silence.
Momoi, in the stands, felt her heart stop for a moment.
Swish.
27–2.
The silence that followed was almost reverent.
Isagi slowly lowered his arms, his gaze fixed on the rim, his body completely relaxed.
Akashi glanced at the clock.
"As fun as this is, we need to head back soon. So, game over for now."
His voice sounded calm, but inside, even he was impressed.
Kise collapsed onto the floor, laughing breathlessly. "Hah… that was the most thrilling game of my life!"
Midorima wiped the sweat from his brow, still trying to process what he'd seen.
Aomine, on the other hand, didn't take his eyes off him. The smile on his face was the one he wore when he found someone worthy.
"Isagi Yoichi…" he said, a wild gleam in his eyes. "You're the first guy I acknowledge as a rival!"
Isagi gave an ironic smile as he spoke, "I prefer playing soccer, but I don't mind playing basketball with you sometimes…"
On the other side of the court, Murasakibara stretched his arms and let out a long sigh, his face relaxed but his gaze… serious.
"This guy… he's annoying," he muttered, absentmindedly chewing the last candy he'd pulled from his pocket. "But… he's strong. Really strong."
For the first time, there was a tone of respect in the lazy giant's voice.
Momoi, in the stands, remained still. Her fingers trembled, her gaze fixed on him. Her heart raced, a soft flush coloring her cheeks.
Akashi walked to the center of the court and raised his hand.
"Final score: 27 to 2. Absolute victory."
The ball rolled to a stop at Isagi's feet. He picked it up, spinning it on his fingertip, then tossed it to Kise with a faint smile.
"Thanks, Kise. You played well."
"If that's playing well, then what you did is illegal, man," Kise replied, laughing as he got up.
Aomine passed by, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. "Next time, I want to face you one-on-one. No teams."
Isagi nodded. "Fine. But next time, show me your full strength from the start."
With the game over, the group dispersed for a few minutes. Some sat to rest, others went to grab water. Akashi had called the game, but there was still about half an hour before they had to head home. Taking advantage of the free time, Kise suggested they all chat for a bit, and the idea was quickly embraced.
Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye—time enough for the intensity of the court to give way to laughter, friendly teasing, and conversations that seemed endless. The heat of competition had transformed into genuine camaraderie, something rare among players of their caliber.
Isagi, even surrounded by stars who dominated the world of high school basketball, didn't seem out of place. The Generation of Miracles, accustomed to seeing the impossible on the court, now treated him as an equal—or, in some cases, as someone above. Kise bombarded him with questions, trying to understand how he'd mimicked everyone's moves so naturally. Aomine laughed loudly, challenging him to a new game every time he opened his mouth. Midorima, despite his reserved demeanor, had approached with his phone in hand, almost embarrassed to ask for Isagi's contact "for technical research purposes," not wanting to be the only one without it, since everyone else had already exchanged numbers.
Even Murasakibara, usually disinterested in anything requiring effort, seemed more attentive than usual. He'd offered a pack of candies as a silent gesture of respect, something that, coming from him, meant more than any words. Akashi, meanwhile, maintained that enigmatic smile as he joined the conversation. Since he hadn't yet awakened his [Emperor Eye], which completely changed his personality, it was much easier to get along with him at that moment.
Momoi stayed close, radiating energy. She chatted animatedly with Isagi, laughing at his short, carefree responses.
The atmosphere was light, almost familial, and for a moment, everyone forgot they'd only met less than an hour ago.
They insisted, of course. Multiple times. "You should play basketball with us," they said. "With that talent, you'd dominate all of Japan!" But Isagi just smiled and shook his head, politely declining: basketball was fun, but his true love remained soccer, and it was to soccer he'd return.
When the half-hour was up, the group finally went their separate ways.
Isagi headed home calmly, stretching as he walked.
___________________
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