Ace of the Bench

Whistle.

The ball found Marcus's hands. The crowd roared, but he didn't rush. His dribble was slower this time, smoother steady like a drumbeat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Shunjin's breathing matched it.

Riku's steps synced with it.

Even Daichi's movements down low followed the same rhythm.

Itsuki stood at the top of Easton's defense, eyes glowing faint gold.

(He's slowing it down?)

He adjusted his stance slightly, calculating, waiting for the next beat.

Marcus exhaled. "Let's dance."

He motioned with two fingers Formation 3–Low.

Riku moved up to set a screen, Daichi rolled inside, Shunjin drifted wide for spacing.

The rhythm clicked together like gears turning.

Marcus took one step left.

Itsuki moved right to intercept.

Marcus hesitated

then stopped.

Itsuki's eyes widened his prediction jumped half a second too early.

"Now," Marcus whispered.

He spun the ball behind his back and fired it toward the baseline.

Shunjin burst from the weak side like lightning, catching the ball mid-air and slamming it down with both hands.

Slam!

The rim rattled. The crowd erupted.

"SEIRYŌ SCORES!"

30–14.

Sho raised an eyebrow. Itsuki's golden eyes flickered once. "He… shifted the tempo again."

Marcus smiled faintly, dribbling back on defense. "Your system's fast. But mine's alive."

Next play.

Sho brought the ball up for Easton, expression calm as ever.

He called, "Delta Shift."

Ajax darted to the corner. Orson cut inside. Mori posted up.

Itsuki waited at the top again the Watchtower overseeing everything.

He scanned the court, reading the pattern before the ball even moved. Then pause.

Marcus wasn't watching the ball. He was watching him.

Their eyes locked.

Thump.

That sound again the heartbeat in Marcus's ears, steady but growing stronger. He didn't see Itsuki's plan. He felt it.

Sho passed to Ajax.

Ajax drove Daichi stepped up.

Bounce pass inside Riku intercepted it mid-lane.

Gasps shot through the arena.

Marcus was already sprinting ahead. "Riku! Here!"

Riku tossed the pass forward without looking.

Marcus caught it mid-run, took one step past half-court, then flicked it toward Kento in the corner.

Kento raised, released

Swish.

30–17.

The Seiryō bench exploded. "Let's go!!"

Marcus pointed toward his teammates. "Keep the rhythm! Feel it!"

For the first time, the energy on the court tilted.

Sho called timeout, but Itsuki raised a hand. "No need," he said. His golden aura shimmered faintly. "I'll adjust."

As the inbound resumed, Itsuki's stance changed lower, calmer, eyes sharp.

(He's flowing with them now… matching their tempo.)

Marcus could feel it the invisible pressure returning, like standing beneath a tower.

But something in him refused to flinch. His dribble echoed like a beat against that pressure.

Sho switched to him now, defending the drive.

Itsuki shadowed off-ball, his gaze dissecting every inch of spacing.

Marcus passed to Riku handoff back to Marcus crossover, step inside, kick out to Kento shot.

Clang.

Missed.

Rebound grabbed by Orson Easton pushed the break.

Itsuki sprinted ahead, eyes glowing gold, already reading the outlet pass.

Ajax caught it mid-run, leaped

Marcus appeared under the rim, hands raised.

Their eyes met again. Gold vs. Blue.

Ajax's shot left his hand Marcus blocked it at the peak, sending it flying into the stands.

The gym exploded.

"WHAT A BLOCK BY MARCUS INOUE!"

Itsuki blinked once.

(He saw that before I could… no he felt it coming.)

Sho picked up the loose ball, passed it out reset.

Itsuki caught it at the top, watching Marcus closely now.

For the first time, a faint smile crossed his lips.

"You're beginning to see it too, aren't you?"

Marcus replied, breath steady.

"I don't need to see it. I just need to feel my team."

Possession after possession, the rhythm intensified.

Itsuki's Watchtower read plays like blueprints angles, timing, data.

Marcus's Pulse countered with emotion instinct, heartbeat, flow.

Each pass, each screen, each cut synced like the rise and fall of a song.

Sho vs. Marcus at the top.

Itsuki vs. the world at the back.

By the five-minute mark, Seiryō had cut the lead down.

35–28.

The once-perfect Easton formation began to crack just slightly.

They still controlled the pace, but Seiryō's rhythm was no longer predictable.

It was alive.

Coach Aoyama smiled from the sideline. "That's it. They finally found their heartbeat."

The crowd's roar blended into a steady drumbeat echoing through the gym.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

And in that moment Marcus's blue aura pulsed like light through the court.

Itsuki's eyes widened faintly, his own golden glow responding.

The Watchtower saw all.

But now…

The Pulse was rising to meet it.

The air in the gym grew heavier.

Every dribble. Every footstep. Every heartbeat it all echoed together like a storm about to break.

Itsuki stood at the top of the key, golden eyes half-lidded.

Marcus crouched in his stance across from him, blue sparks flickering faintly around his frame.

Vision vs. Instinct.

The Watchtower vs. The Pulse.

For the first time since tip-off, Sho Amakusa passed control to Itsuki.

"You call it," Sho said. "Show me what the Watchtower sees."

Itsuki nodded once. "Understood."

He raised two fingers. "Formation Gamma."

Easton shifted instantly Ajax and Kuga swapped sides, Orson screened in, and Sho drifted to the left wing. The formation bent and twisted like a single moving organism.

Marcus felt it before it happened. His body tensed not from fear, but from awareness.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He sensed Kento's footsteps matching his breathing. Riku's stance aligned with Daichi's inside push.

Everything flowed like blood moving through veins.

"Stay in sync," Marcus muttered. "Trust the rhythm."

Itsuki's golden aura flared.

He dribbled once. Twice. The air around him shimmered like heat.

The Watchtower saw every defender on the court in layered frames motion, speed, distance. His mind ran faster than his body, mapping outcomes three moves ahead.

He stepped right Marcus shifted.

He passed left Riku rotated.

He faked high Shunjin adjusted baseline.

(They're… moving in time with each other?) Itsuki realized, eyes narrowing. (Impossible. They weren't like this before.)

Marcus smirked. "Feels different now, doesn't it?"

Itsuki's gold aura pulsed higher. "Then I'll push higher too."

He drove hard to his left the court blurred and flicked the ball behind his back to Sho.

Sho caught it, turned, rose for a jumper blocked mid-air by Riku.

The ball bounced loose Marcus snatched it.

Instantly, he pushed the break.

"Run!"

Shunjin took off down the right lane. Kento trailed left.

Marcus sprinted middle blue trails swirling around his shoes as if the court itself was pulsing beneath him.

He stopped at the free-throw line, faked a pass, spun, then lobbed behind his head.

Shunjin leaped slam!

The crowd exploded.

35–30.

Commentators shouted over the roaring crowd.

"Seiryō's rhythm has completely changed! They're feeding off Marcus's pulse!"

"Easton's defense can't read them anymore it's like they're improvising in perfect sync!"

Coach Hazama frowned on the Easton sideline. "So… they've found a counter-rhythm."

He glanced toward Itsuki. "Then you know what must be done."

Itsuki nodded, golden aura flaring brighter.

"I'll raise the tower higher."

Next possession.

Sho brought it up then stopped just past half court. "Your call, Sera."

Itsuki walked forward slowly, eyes locked on Marcus.

The world seemed to dim for an instant—the crowd noise fading until only the echo of their auras remained.

Marcus's blue pulse.

Itsuki's golden watchlight.

The two collided mid-air like invisible lightning.

Thump… Thump… Thump.

Itsuki's voice was low, almost a whisper.

"You play with your heart."

Marcus grinned.

"And you play like a machine."

Their energies collided again. A shimmer spread across the court the aura of two competing ideals.

Marcus darted left blue blur.

Itsuki mirrored golden afterimage.

Marcus swung to Riku deflected.

Riku recovered kick-out to Kento fake shot, dish back inside Daichi went up.

Sho leaped clean block.

The ball flew free again Itsuki snatched it, spinning on his heel.

"Transition! Go!"

Ajax caught it in motion, passed ahead to Orson one dribble slam.

37–30.

Marcus exhaled through his nose. "They're fast again."

Shunjin gritted his teeth. "We're losing the beat."

Marcus glanced at the scoreboard. Two minutes left before halftime. They needed a statement something that would reset the tone.

He dribbled up slowly, eyes half closed, body moving on pure instinct.

Itsuki crouched low, eyes flashing gold, every micro-movement analyzed.

Marcus whispered, "You're watching everything, huh?"

Itsuki replied evenly, "That's my job."

"Then stop watching me"

Marcus lunged forward.

"and feel me."

He cut inside, crossed back out, then spun behind Riku's screen. The movement was fluid alive unreadable.

Itsuki tracked the first two steps but the third broke every pattern.

Marcus rose from mid-range release.

The ball floated in slow motion, blue afterglow tracing its path.

Swish.

37–32.

The crowd erupted again. Momentum shifting.

On the next defense, Seiryō pressed tighter. Marcus called coverages mid-play, anticipating rotations without thinking.

Sho tried a skip pass Marcus intercepted.

He looked up at Itsuki, who was already sprinting back.

Both collided near half court, eyes burning.

Marcus tried to cross.

Itsuki read it, slid perfectly, body like a wall.

They froze blue and gold clashing.

Marcus: "You won't always be one step ahead."

Itsuki: "Then stop being one step behind."

Marcus's smile widened. "You talk too much."

He feinted right Itsuki moved. Marcus slipped left, drove baseline, dumped it to Shunjin slam again.

37–34.

From the sideline, Coach Hikari whispered, "They've found it. The Pulse."

Her assistant blinked. "The what?"

"The moment the team beats as one. Not through playbooks through instinct. It's what every captain spends years trying to build."

She looked at Marcus, his blue aura flashing brighter with every possession.

"He's building it right now."

Halftime buzzer.

The score read 42–38, Easton still leading.

But the atmosphere had changed.

The Watchtower no longer felt untouchable.

In the Easton locker room, Sho wiped sweat from his chin. "They're adapting too fast."

Itsuki leaned against the wall, calm but thoughtful.

"They're resonating. Their rhythm is no longer sequential it's reactive."

"Can you stop it?"

Itsuki's golden aura flickered faintly.

"I can slow it… but I'll need to climb higher."

Coach Hazama smiled faintly. "Then climb. Let the Watchtower reach the clouds."

In Seiryō's locker room, the air was completely different from the first quarter.

No frustration. No panic.

Just focus.

Shunjin was hyped. "We're catching them! We're actually catching them!"

Riku nodded, chest heaving. "Their system can't pin us down anymore."

Marcus sat quietly for a moment, staring at his hands. The faint glow around them was fading, but the rhythm still pulsed under his skin.

Coach Aoyama stepped closer. "Marcus."

He looked up. "Yeah?"

She smiled. "You finally understand what leadership means."

He blinked. "Huh?"

She tapped her chest. "You don't lead with words. You lead with rhythm. You found the beat that makes everyone move."

Marcus exhaled slowly. "Then let's finish this."

He stood, clapped his hands once. "We're not backing down now. Next half we take the lead."

The team roared in agreement.

Outside, the crowd buzzed with electricity.

Two auras two captains two philosophies.

The Watchtower sees all.

The Pulse feels all.

And when they meet again on that court after halftime

only one rhythm will dominate the game.