This guy…
Midorima stared at Kagami, absolutely stunned.
Just a moment ago, when Midorima took his usual three-pointer, Kagami jumped in to contest. But this time—unlike before—Kagami actually managed to interfere! The shot still went in, but Kagami definitely touched him enough to disrupt the form.
Kagami clenched his fist, looking down as frustration bubbled inside.
"Damn it… just a little more… No! I need to jump even higher!"
In the stands...
Kise grabbed Kota's arm, half-stammering in disbelief.
"K-Kota… Did you see that?! Kagami kinda... actually managed to defend against Midorima!"
Kota's face was serious. Sure, the shot still went in, but Kagami's jump had definitely reached Midorima's wrist this time.
Momoi, looking completely confused, asked,
"Wait… didn't Midorima score just now? Why do you two look like someone just blocked him or something?"
Kota glanced at Momoi's clueless face and couldn't help but smirk.
"Finally… something even you don't get, huh?"
"Well, yeah, Midorima scored. But Kagami's defense this time was on a whole different level. In simple terms... he jumped higher than before. If he can go even higher than this, Seirin's got a real shot to win. Got that?"
Momoi nodded half-understanding, then blinked and asked,
"But... isn't jumping ability... like... fixed? Even with slight differences, there should be a limit, right? Is Kagami supposed to be some kind of kangaroo now?!"
Kota grinned and threw her words right back at her.
"Who knows~?"
Ignoring Momoi's puffed-up angry face, Kota turned back to the court.
...
"No... this has to be a coincidence. No way someone just... jumps higher and higher mid-game."
Midorima inhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm, ready to face Seirin's next offense.
...
Ever since Takao switched to guarding Kuroko one-on-one, no one on the court was happier than Izuki.
When Takao was controlling the pace, Izuki—whose natural playmaking was slightly below Takao's—always felt just a bit off-balance. But now...
"The Hawk Eye is off the table" Izuki smirked. "Time for the Eagle Eye to take over!"
As Izuki started controlling the offense, Takao's face suddenly stiffened. He quickly turned to look at Izuki, cold sweat dripping.
"Crap... they were hiding this?"
Takao wanted to fight for the rhythm back, but stuck to Kuroko like glue, he'd already lost the ability to control the court. He tried for a second—nope. Hawk Eye was basically useless now. All it did was give him an ultra-clear view of Kuroko's annoying face.
"This is bad... real bad..."
Takao gave a bitter smile.
"Came here to mess with Kuroko... now I'm the one stuck in Seirin's trap.
....
"Opportunity!"
Izuki spotted a hole in Shutoku's defense and lobbed the ball perfectly toward Kagami, who'd sneaked into the paint. Kagami glanced back at Midorima—then jumped.
Midorima gritted his teeth.
"A dunk?! Over me?! Not happening."
Except... reality wasn't so kind.
The epic scene from the first quarter, where Midorima brutally blocked Kagami, did NOT repeat.
Kagami, ball in one hand, posterized Midorima in brutal fashion. He might've even jumped a little higher than before.
"YOSSHHAAAA!!"
Kagami landed with a roar, venting every ounce of frustration. Midorima had made him suffer earlier—finally, a chance for payback. The dunk felt so good it could've been therapeutic.
Seirin's bench exploded, players running over to high-five Kagami. This dunk wasn't just two points—it ignited the entire team. Right now, they could feel the comeback was possible.
Midorima stood frozen, stunned. Out of nowhere, Kuroko popped up beside him, deadpan.
"Even someone like you has brain farts sometimes, huh?"
"What?" Midorima frowned. "Is he here to mock me for getting dunked on?!"
Kuroko, completely serious, continued,
"You always say that three-pointers are the ultimate weapon because they're worth one more point than twos. But... there's something threes can't do."
Kuroko turned and pointed at the Seirin players celebrating.
"A dunk... can fire up your teammates. That's something no three-pointer can do."
Midorima's face froze for a second. Then, calmly, he took off his glasses, wiped them clean, and put them back on. His gaze sharpened instantly.
"...Save your lectures for after you've beaten me."
Midorima jabbed a finger toward the scoreboard: 44–32. The message was clear.
Kuroko gave him one last look, turned around, and muttered,
"Exactly my plan."
Midorima watched Kuroko walk away, frowning.
....
"Give me the ball."
Ōtsubo sighed deeply.
"Yup... Generation of Miracles. Bunch of selfish maniacs."
No one objected, though. The next offensive play went straight to Midorima.
He caught the pass, eyed Kagami's position, and calmed himself.
"This distance is fine... no problem."
Without hesitation, Midorima bent his knees and launched... a half-court three.
Kagami gritted his teeth, sprinted toward Midorima, and jumped with everything he had. His right arm stretched desperately upward.
"Damn it... I'm NOT letting you keep scoring over me!"
Midorima wasn't fazed. For elite shooters, defensive pressure means nothing—unless it's an outright block, Midorima's hands won't even tremble.
He released the ball with his usual calm, like always. Defenders in front never mattered. But this time... something felt off.
Kagami's fully-extended right hand edged dangerously close to the ball's path.
Flying midair, Kagami's face twisted in desperation.
"Higher! Just a little higher! C'mon... more!!"
Midorima's expression shifted. He saw it — Kagami's fingertips... they grazed the ball.
Kagami's face lit up.
"I felt it! I actually touched it this time!"
The ball hit the rim... spun around... once... twice...
And dropped in anyway.
Shutoku three-pointer: counted.
BEEEEEP—
Halftime.
Score: 46–32.
...
Midorima stood, looking utterly baffled.
"Did... did he seriously touch that?!"
In all the games he'd ever played, Midorima had never been blocked. Not once. His shots were always automatic.
....
"Damn it!! I touched that, I swear!!"
Kagami stomped in frustration. Hyuga ran over, patting his shoulder with a grin.
"Dude... look how many times you've been shot on already. What's one more?"
Kagami snapped back, looking like he was on the verge of tears.
"I'm serious! Ask Midorima! He saw it! I really touched it!!"
His teammates gave him that classic "yeah sure buddy" look, thinking Kagami had snapped and was hallucinating from stress.
Midorima glanced over at Kagami, frowning."...Hey. What's your zodiac sign?"
"Huh? Leo... why?" Kagami blinked, wondering if Midorima had finally lost it too.
Midorima scratched his head, grumbling,"Figures... stupid horoscope was right."
With that cryptic mutter, he ignored the two completely confused Seirin players and walked straight to the locker room.
Hyuga watched him leave and muttered under his breath,
"...Okay, but... that shot wasn't a clean swish. And Midorima's energy... feels off. Wait... did Kagami actually block it...?"
...
In the stands...
Kise was practically shaking Kota by the shoulders, yelling,
"Did you SEE that?! Did you SEE IT?! Kagami actually—"
Kota snapped, instantly turning around and squishing Kise's cheeks.
"I SAW IT! I'm not blind!!"
Even while getting his face squished, Kise just grinned.
"At this rate... Seirin really has a chance! If Kagami can shut down Midorima, they could actually turn this around!"
Kota gave him a meaningful look. As a point guard, Kota could see more than Kise realized.
Sure, on the surface it looked like a battle of Kuroko vs. Takao and Kagami vs. Midorima... but Seirin wasn't just Kagami and Kuroko.
Now that the hawk's been grounded... the vulture isn't just gonna sit around and watch.