On the court where Seiyo faced Meizawa—
The air seemed frozen.
Time itself felt stretched thin.
Thirty-four seconds.
That was all that remained.
The entire stadium fell silent, every breath unconsciously held, every gaze locked onto the court.
Meizawa had possession of the ball.
Yet in this moment, they no longer looked like hunters—but prey cornered at the edge of a cliff.
On Seiyo's side, Akashi and Sendo stood shoulder to shoulder.
Their eyes burned like flames.
Their momentum surged like a rising tide.
Sendo didn't ask why Akashi had chosen to pass at that critical moment.
Akashi didn't explain.
They didn't need to.
A single glance was enough.
Their gazes converged on one man—
Sawakita Eiji.
They both knew.
As long as they stopped this possession, the balance of victory would tilt completely in Seiyo's favor.
Hold for thirty-four seconds.
That was all.
At this moment, Akashi and Sendo were like two towering walls, standing firmly between Meizawa and victory.
Their positioning, their focus, their presence—
Together, they formed an invisible barrier that pressed down on Meizawa's players.
Kirihara Hayato, Kobayashi Koichi, and Yamamoto Ryu were instinctively ignored.
Not out of contempt.
But because this stage no longer belonged to them.
This was the battlefield of geniuses.
The rhythm Akashi and Sendo had reached was something ordinary players simply couldn't step into without becoming a liability.
The ball, inevitably, went to Sawakita Eiji.
This was exactly as Akashi and Sendo expected.
In the current situation, Meizawa had only one answer.
Only one hope.
Sawakita Eiji.
And now—
The final moment had arrived.
Sawakita stood just past the center line, eyes sharp as blades.
His presence surged like a volcano on the brink of eruption.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
He dribbled forward, each step landing heavily, pounding against the hearts of everyone watching.
Akashi and Sendo exchanged another glance.
No words.
No hesitation.
They moved.
Immediately, two Meizawa players rushed in, attempting to slow them down with a double-team.
Here it comes again.
But this time—
They weren't facing an isolated defender.
They were facing Akashi and Sendo.
Akashi turned sharply, his footwork slicing through the defense like wind.
At the same time, Sendo slipped past the other defender with ghost-like steps.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized.
Like mirror images.
In the next instant, they converged—
Lightning striking from both sides.
Sawakita sensed the danger immediately.
His pupils tightened, his muscles coiling.
But he didn't retreat.
Didn't panic.
Instead, his lips curled into a grin filled with excitement.
"Good," he muttered softly.
His blood roared.
This was the battle he wanted.
Bang—bang—bang!
The ball danced wildly in his hands, its rhythm accelerating to a dizzying pace.
His movements were sharp, feral—each dribble like a challenge thrown at fate itself.
Sendo struck first.
He lunged from the flank, arm snapping forward, fingertips aimed directly at the ball.
Just before contact—
Sawakita exploded.
His speed surged like a beast breaking free.
In a blink, he slipped past Sendo's fingertips.
Sendo's eyes widened.
Faster… again?
Sawakita's breakthrough speed had risen once more—right at the limit.
But Sendo's move wasn't meaningless.
That instant of pressure caused a barely perceptible pause.
And that was enough.
Akashi moved.
He stepped laterally, cutting off Sawakita's path like a crimson wall.
Bang—
Sawakita switched hands, changed direction, movements razor-sharp.
He drove past Akashi's left.
And in that instant—
Akashi's heterochromatic eyes flared.
Two reddish-gold halos bloomed within them.
The Emperor Eye activated.
Countless future images flashed through Akashi's mind—
Angles.
Steps.
Routes.
Sawakita's next move was laid bare.
Akashi reacted immediately, positioning himself one step ahead—
Blocking the predicted path.
But—
Crack.
The vision shattered.
The future fragmented like broken glass.
Akashi's pupils shrank.
For the first time, shock flickered across his face.
At the same moment, Sawakita felt it too.
Akashi's sudden prediction forced him to alter his movement mid-sprint.
Muscles screamed.
Balance wavered.
"Again…" Sawakita grit his teeth.
That suffocating pressure—
As if his every move had already been decided.
Though he managed to break through, cold sweat soaked his back.
The Eye of Destiny had nearly trapped him completely.
And because of that hesitation—
Both of them stalled.
They passed each other.
Sawakita broke through.
Meizawa's bench surged with hope.
But no one noticed—
The faint curve at the corner of Akashi's lips.
A smile.
Calculated.
Cold.
Just as Sawakita exhaled—
A hand struck.
Like a phantom.
Like a blade.
Clap!
The ball was ripped away.
"What—?!"
Sawakita spun around in disbelief.
Behind Akashi—
Sendo.
The blind spot.
The trap.
That moment of "unexpected failure"—
It hadn't been an accident.
Realization hit Sawakita like a hammer.
A setup…
Akashi had never intended to stop him directly.
He had let him through—
To create this opening.
A perfect ambush.
If that was true—
Then Akashi wasn't just terrifying.
He was merciless.
"Sendo!"
The ball was already moving.
Straight into Akashi's hands.
No—!
Sawakita turned and sprinted.
Meizawa's players followed desperately.
Hope flickered again.
If they were faster—
Just one step—
Then—
Sawakita's heart dropped.
He glanced back.
No one was guarding Sendo.
…No.
This was the real killing blow.
He snapped his head around—
And saw it.
An orange-yellow blur cutting across the court.
Thwack!
Sendo caught the pass.
Time seemed to stop.
The ball rested in his palm like destiny itself.
Only then did Meizawa realize—
The ball was already gone from Akashi's hands.
Too late.
Sendo sliced into the paint.
Uncontested.
The basket stood open.
Despair flooded Meizawa's eyes.
Sawakita ran with everything he had—
But it was over.
Sendo leapt.
Clean.
Decisive.
The ball left his fingertips.
Swish—
The net snapped.
Beep!
Seiyo 83 — 80 Meizawa.
The game was over.
The stadium erupted.
Seiyo's players rushed the court, engulfing Akashi and Sendo in cheers and embraces.
Akashi met Sendo's gaze.
No words.
Only understanding.
Nearby, Meizawa stood frozen.
Hollow-eyed.
Disbelieving.
Sawakita remained still.
He stared at his hands.
He had given everything.
Played at his absolute peak.
And still—
Lost.
Not to power.
Not to speed.
But to prediction.
To trust.
To a perfect net woven by two players.
He looked up at Akashi and Sendo—
Especially Akashi.
That calm, commanding figure.
As if fate itself had bent to his will.
"…Next time," Sawakita murmured softly, "I won't lose."
Then he turned—
And walked off the court.
Thus—
Seiyo Middle School claimed the championship.