I Died on the Court, Now I'm Back to Rule It-Chapter 155: Horizon vs. Kurotsuki : The Quarter Composed 3

Mid-range.

No gather.

No arc.

Just release.

Like slipping a knife between pages.

Swish.

23 – 17.

...

Horizon possession.

Dirga brought it up—fast, but never loose.

Each step measured.

Each breath drawn like a chess clock ticking down.

Left—Aizawa.

Right—Taiga.

Eyes scanned.

He saw it:

Kurotsuki’s defense curling inward around Kaito.

A trap forming before the ball even touched him.

But this play?

This wasn’t about a hero moment.

It was about reclaiming order.

Kaito floated off-ball.

No flash.

No call.

Just drifted into gravity’s blind spot.

Dirga saw it—instinct firing faster than words.

Snap pass to Taiga.

Elbow screen.

Contact like a whisper.

Quick handoff.

Kaito caught it mid-stride—

Slashed down the left seam—

One dribble.

Two.

Sho rotated.

Of course he did.

But Kaito didn’t blink.

Didn’t challenge.

Didn’t force.

Bounce pass—perfect weight—

threaded behind the shifting help.

Aizawa.

Baseline cut—timed like music.

Caught it.

Reverse lay.

Used the rim as shield.

Glass. Net. In.

25 – 17.

"Beautiful team execution—Dirga to Taiga to Kaito to Aizawa!"

"That’s Horizon’s signature—fluidity, trust, and timing!"

...

But even as the net whispered—

Sho was already shifting.

Toshiro dragging the wing wide.

And Taniguchi?

Already watching.

Already thinking three passes ahead.

Already tracking Kaito like gravity tracks a falling star.

—

They passed each other just past halfcourt.

No bump.

No look.

Just space so thin it could cut.

Kaito’s eyes flicked toward him—just enough to register.

But Taniguchi?

Didn’t glance.

Didn’t smirk.

He just spoke—

Low. Calm. Like he was talking to a memory.

"I thought you quit."

Kaito’s step hitched.

Just a beat.

A flicker in the rhythm.

Not a stumble.

A static pulse in the middle of flow.

But Taniguchi kept moving.

Unbothered.

Unblinking.

Still not looking.

Still walking.

"Glad you didn’t."

Kaito exhaled through his nose.

A dry breath.

No weight behind it—yet.

Then, without turning:

"Three years. And you still talk like a monk."

A pause.

Taniguchi’s lips tugged upward.

Not a smile—

A fracture.

An echo of something long-familiar.

"And you still burn like fire."

They passed.

No shoulder brush.

No glance back.

Just momentum parting like tides—

Two tides with gravity of their own.

And something...

clicked.

Not forgiveness.

Not rivalry.

Resonance.

The kind only felt at the edge—

Where structure bends, and chaos whispers back.

Kurotsuki ball.

But it didn’t feel like a possession.

It felt like a heartbeat.

Five black jerseys flowed into motion.

Not fast.

Not slow.

Just right.

Three of them—Sho, Toshiro, Taniguchi—

inhaled at the same time.

No signal.

No code.

Just collective breath.

Like instinct had its own lungs.

Play triggered.

Eiji passed early.

Toshiro ghosted to the midline.

Not to set.

Not to shoot.

To delay.

Like a rock thrown into current—

diverting flow without force.

Taiga flinched. Aizawa hovered.

Sho stepped high.

Didn’t screen.

Didn’t beckon.

Just existed in the lane.

Still.

Heavy.

A black hole made of calm muscle.

And then—

behind the drag of motion—

Taniguchi slipped through.

Not with speed.

With timing.

Like he knew where the light would fall before the sun rose.

Cut. Drift. Curl.

No shot intention.

Just movement to loosen the lock.

Dirga read it—too late.

Aizawa caught on the wrong hip.

Rikuya turned—

Sho rolled.

Eiji faked the pitch to Toshiro—who never looked.

That was the bait.

Then—

snap pass, interior.

Sho caught mid-stride.

One pivot.

Rikuya dropped, arms high, textbook form.

But Sho didn’t power.

He paused.

Waited for Rikuya to believe he had the stop.

Then rose.

Glass.

Whisper.

Net.

25 – 19.

...

Kaito...

Stood still.

Body upright.

But his left hand—

curled over his chest.

Not in pain.

Not yet.

Just... guarding.

Like the body remembered something it wasn’t supposed to feel.

A twitch in the fingers.

A breath caught halfway.

A fraction of stillness where there should’ve been fire.

Dirga noticed.

Tsugawa stood before the breath reset.

"Kaito—out."

Kaito nodded once.

No argument.

No limp.

No crack in posture.

But the hand...

never left his chest.

And behind his eyes—

not fear.

Not disappointment.

Just that old weight.

The reminder.

That even fire needs oxygen to burn.

Rei checked in.

Fast. Quiet. Tuned in.

Dirga stood at halfcourt, palms on hips.

The lead was slipping.

The tempo fraying.

And Kaito was off the court.

It was time.

...

[Tempo Sight – Active Trigger: Godframe – 45 seconds]

The court ruptured into light.

Veins of energy pulsed across screens not yet set.

Shadows flickered—moves seconds before they happened.

The court bent.

Reality split—pressure, space, intent all made visible.

Sho glowed red—a walking hazard.

Toshiro shimmered blue—delayed pressure, coiled.

Taniguchi blinked—a blip, not a man.

And Kaito’s absence?

It left a hollow in the rhythm.

Like a missing downbeat in a symphony.

Still—

Dirga adjusted.

He wasn’t playing the quarter.

He was holding the structure together.

Possession One:

High-low set.

Sho slid late.

Rikuya—drop step, pivot.

Bucket.

27 – 19.

Possession Two:

Toshiro hedged.

Dirga skipped—corner to Rei.

Catch. Pull.

Splash.

30 – 19.

...

Kurotsuki paused.

Then re-formed.

Their possession didn’t begin with motion—

It began with misalignment.

Toshiro stepped left—then reversed mid-stride.

Dirga caught it—adjusted—

but Taniguchi ghosted under the shift.

Elbow. Flash cut.

Pull-up.

Net.

30 – 21.

Dirga still breathing steady.

Ten seconds left on Godframe.

He let the court settle.

No chaos.

Just reset.

Rei—slip screen.

Dirga—elbow pull-up.

Good.

32 – 21.

[GODFRAME ENDED]

And just like that—

the court slowed.

Returned to human speed.

To uncertainty.

And Kurotsuki?

Didn’t flinch.

They accelerated.

...

2nd Quarter : 02:00

Possession by possession—

Sho sealed Rikuya.

Toshiro inverted his screens.

Taniguchi curled, faked, re-entered.

They didn’t just break Horizon’s rotation.

They composed music with it.

One reverse.

One slip.

One soft finish.

Then—

A block by Sho.

A recovery.

Fast break.

Eiji to Taniguchi—

Pull-up three.

Swish.

32 – 27.

Dirga wiped sweat from his eyes.

Chest rising faster now.

They weren’t reacting.

They were rewiring the game.

...

Final Possession – Horizon

Dirga held.

Ten seconds.

Signal flashed.

Rei drifted wide.

Aizawa dragged his defender into the paint.

Dirga drove—

Collapsed the shell—

Kicked it.

Rei.

Wide-open three.

Clang.

Sho rebound.

Buzzer.

End Of Second Quarter

Halftime:

Toyonaka Horizon High – 32 - Nagano Kurotsuki High – 27

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