Third Quarter Begins.
The stadium buzzed. A low hum of tension ran through the bleachers—nerves, cheers, hope—flickering like static before the storm broke again.
Horizon's five stepped out: Kaito at the helm—eyes sharp, breath calm. Rei, ready at the wing. Aizawa, flexing his wrists, shaking loose the cold. Taiga, silent and square-shouldered. Rikuya, patrolling the paint like a sentinel.
The whistle blew.
Kaito received the inbound.
He didn't wait.
No slow build-up. No setup.
He sprinted forward—
Fast. Too fast.
Like a slingshot had let loose.
As soon as he crossed the half-court line—
Taiga was there.
Set like a wall. An early screen. Tight. Precise.
Toyonaka stuttered—
Caught off guard.
A glitch in their rhythm.
Kaito burst off the screen—
Acceleration. Like a gear kicked into overdrive.
Defenders scrambled, unsure whether to switch or fight through.
Too late.
Kaito reached the elbow.
Planted.
Rose.
A clean mid-range jumper.
Swish.
38 – 37.
