CHAPTER 71: HORIZON VS RAKUZAN : WE’RE NOT BACKING DOWN 2

Dirga reset. Jogged to the inbound line, hand raised.

Eyes scanning.

One by one.

He would dismantle them.

Reiji.

Then Tsukasa.

And yes—Asahi too.

Dirga took the inbound pass.

His fingers curled around the leather like it was glass.

Control. That was the mission.

No more running to Rakuzan’s beat.

This was his tempo now.

Slow. Sharp. Calculated.

He walked it up—each bounce echoing with intent.

Rakuzan didn’t press. They didn’t have to.

They were predators. They preferred the slow bleed.

But Dirga wasn’t bleeding.

He was pacing. Measuring. Tightening the reins.

Kaito shifted right—just a shadow, dragging Tsukasa out of the lane.

Rei drifted baseline, subtle motion, tugging Reiji’s attention toward the corner.

Aizawa flared high, setting a soft ghost screen at the arc

Rakuzan’s eyes followed all of it.

Except Rikuya.

Dirga glanced—subtle. Rikuya caught it.

Flash-cut. Misdirection.

Dirga faked the hand-off to Kaito, then spun the other way, pulling Reiji with him.

Reiji bit—aggressive, leaning into the body.

Dirga felt the contact. Waited.

Then—snap step—he let Reiji overcommit, using his own momentum against him.

Dirga slipped under.

Lane open.

One dribble.

Gather.

Jump.

Asahi rotated late—

Too late.

Dirga floated it high off the glass—

Kiss. Drop. Score.

23 – 16.

Not a dunk.

Not a scream.

A surgical answer.

Dirga jogged back on defense, eyes cool, head up.

He didn’t even look at Reiji this time.

That was the insult.

Rakuzan came back down.

Tsukasa quick-triggered the play.

But Dirga had already read it—beat him to the spot.

Forced a side pass. Reiji recovered it near the sideline.

This time, Rei was on him. Not a physical matchup—but a mental one.

Reiji tried the hesitation step—Rei didn’t bite.

Dirga closed the help lane.

Reiji kicked it out to Kido.

Kido hesitated.

Then pulled the trigger.

Clang.

Rikuya snagged the rebound like a bear snatching prey.

Dirga again.

Pushing tempo.

Not flashy.

Precise.

He passed to Aizawa on the wing—

Aizawa didn’t even look.

Snap pass to Kaito at the top.

Kaito’s eyes lit up.

One quick crossover.

Hesitation.

Pull-up jumper, clean.

Swish.

23 – 18.

The crowd leaned forward now.

Dirga didn’t celebrate.

He turned—slowly—to Reiji.

His mouth curled into that trademark smirk.

And then—

He rocked his arms like a cradle.

Mocking. Deliberate. Babying.

"Well, well, well... maybe you should go cry to your referee again,"

he said, voice dripping with venom and ice.

Reiji’s smirk twitched.

Dirga didn’t break eye contact.

Didn’t blink.

He clapped his hands once. Loud. Sharp.

"Come on. Show me something real."

And then he walked backward toward his defensive position—still looking at Reiji.

No fear.

No respect.

Just challenge.

And that?

That cracked the surface.

A single fissure in the mask.

Dirga saw it.

Felt it.

And he wasn’t going to let go.

The court pulsed with tension.

Each possession now was a tug-of-war between dominance and discipline.

Rakuzan still led, technically—but they didn’t control. Not anymore.

Dirga and Kaito did.

They weren’t just scoring—they were starving Rakuzan of control.

Every rhythm Rakuzan tried to set? Broken.

Every bait Rakuzan tried to sell? Ignored.

No rushed shots. No silly fouls.

Horizon played like they were already ahead.

And Rakuzan hated it.

Reiji barked commands, more often than passing.

Asahi started getting more physical with his press—

Shoulders. Elbows. Grabs that barely skirted legal.

But Kaito?

Kaito didn’t flinch.

He took the bumps. Slid past the traps. Let the hits come—and kept flowing.

Crossover. Escape dribble. Pass to Aizawa. Relocate. Cut. Receive. Jumper.

Swish.

25 – 25.

The tie hit like a hammer.

Rakuzan’s bench shifted. Coaches stood up, shouting new defensive rotations.

And yet—Kaito didn’t even blink.

He smiled.

Just for a second.

Because he knew what they were doing.

Rakuzan knew about his heart condition. They’d studied tape. Maybe heard whispers.

And now they were pressing. Not tactically. Violently.

Hard doubles. Traps with intent. Elbows that lingered too long.

They were trying to break him.

But Kaito?

Was Kaito.

He was the calm within the storm.

Every hit he took, he answered with a cut.

Every shove, with a floater.

Every trap, with a no-look dime to Rikuya or Rei.

And that?

That got under Rakuzan’s skin.

Tsukasa, trying to stay composed, slapped the floor and screamed for coverage.

Asahi? Already jawing. Shoving after the whistle.

Reiji? Breathing heavier. Not tired—furious.

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

It was a war of control.

And they were losing it.

Timeout: Horizon.

Coach Tsugawa gathered them in.

Quick. Tactical.

"Kaito, how’s the pressure?"

Kaito exhaled. Sweat ran down his jawline. But his voice was steady.

"It’s nothing I can’t handle."

But Dirga’s eyes narrowed.

He could see it. The fatigue. The strain.

Kaito wouldn’t admit it—but he couldn’t take this pace for much longer.

Coach Tsugawa read it too.

"Rei—back to shooting guard. Kaito, rest your legs. You’ll rotate to sixth man for now.

Taiga, you’re in."

Taiga stood—his face stone-cold.

The fire was still there.

But now?

It was controlled.

New Formation:

Dirga (PG)Rei (SG)Taiga (SF)Aizawa (PF)Rikuya (C)

Back to the Basic Formation—sharp, reactive, defensive-minded.

The whistle blew.

Kaito slapped Dirga’s hand as he checked out.

"Make them regret this."

Dirga nodded.

Rakuzan ball.

Reiji walked it up—jaw tight.

He passed it to Asahi on the wing, then cut through the lane.

Dirga switched seamlessly with Taiga.

Their defense now had teeth.

Tsukasa tried to run a zipper again—but Rei was ready.

Rei had watched that set ten times in film. He knew the second pivot, the flare screen angle, the timing of Tsukasa’s eyes.

He knew what was coming before the ball even left his hands.

He slipped the screen, rotated early—intercepted the swing pass.

Horizon ball.

Dirga walked it up.

This wasn’t run-and-gun.

This was chess.

He called a set—Decoy Flash.

Aizawa set a pindown. Rei faked up, cut low.

Taiga faked a backdoor—then popped high.

Dirga dished it clean.

Catch. Pull-up. Jumper.

Net.

Rakuzan 25 - Horizon 27

Now?

The lead was real.

And with it came a silence from the Rakuzan crowd.

Not defeat.

But doubt.

A silence that said: "Wait... are we losing this?"