I Died on the Court, Now I’m Back to Rule It

Let Kaito cook.

One bounce.

Stop.

Rise.

Fade.

Bang.

69 – 68.

"KAITO AGAIN! Fadeaway fire! This is what we waited for!"

"But there's no time to celebrate—Kurotsuki's sprinting back like wolves."

…

Kurotsuki answered.

This time, Taniguchi brought it.

Low dribble. Sharp pace.

Dirga rotated to meet him—

But it was bait.

Sho slipped in behind the play, ghost-screen low.

A blur. A flick.

Taniguchi zipped it to Toshiro at the slot.

One bounce. Pull-up.

Splash.

69 – 70.

No celebration.

No raised fists.

Just silence honed into rhythm.

…

The court felt tighter now.

Like every step pressed down on a wire.

Each pass—

a thread set on fire.

Fragile.

Crackling.

Perfectly timed.

Dirga exhaled.

Maestro State pulsed faintly at the edges of his vision.

The rhythm was nearly spent.

He looked at Kaito.

Kaito wiped sweat from his brow.

Didn't smile.

Just whispered—

"Just a few more notes."

Dirga nodded once.

Quiet. Centered.

"Let's finish the song."

[Maestro State – End]

The gym wasn't loud anymore.

It was something tighter.

Like the space between heartbeats.

Like the silence before a bowstring snaps.

Every footstep landed like thunder.

Every screen sent vibrations up the spine.

And the ball—

when it hit the floor—

sounded like a war drum.

The air buzzed, not with noise—

but with consequence.

And at the center of it all—

Dirga.

Breathing steady.

Eyes unblinking.

Still locked in.

And still not calling Flow State.

He didn't need a surge.

Not yet.

Time Remaining: 1:00

…

Horizon possession.

Dirga walked the ball up the court like he was measuring each bounce against the clock itself.

Not rushing.

Not stalling.

Just waiting—for something only he could feel.

The crowd? On edge.

The benches? Standing.

Even Tsugawa said nothing.

Kaito lifted from the left wing.

Aizawa circled high.

Rikuya locked horns with Sho on the block.

Taiga hovered at the elbow, ready to screen.

But Dirga?

Still.

Watching.

Waiting.

He saw it—

Kurotsuki overcommitting.

They were reading a familiar play.

Anticipating another flare to Kaito.

Expecting the duel to decide the game.

So Dirga gave them exactly what they wanted.

He passed left.

Kaito caught it clean at the arc—

Taniguchi was there in an instant, chest tight, breath sharp.

"So you still think it ends with you?" Kaito muttered.

"No," Taniguchi replied. "I know it does."

Jab. Spin. Plant.

The duel lit up like the final crescendo.

And Dirga?

He slipped.

Not lost.

Not tripped.

Just slipped the rhythm.

Ducked beneath it all.

Under Taiga's screen.

No cue. No call. Just perfect timing.

Rikuya sealed the help.

Sho couldn't rotate.

Kurotsuki?

Still watching the duel.

Not the escape.

Kaito saw it.

Spun off Taniguchi—

Fired the pass.

Dirga caught it on the move—

Elbow range.

Quick gather.

Lifted.

Soft. Arcing. Final.

Swish.

71 – 70

The gym cracked open—

Not into cheers.

Into breath.

A held one.

Released.

…

Kurotsuki came fast.

Faster than before.

They were shifting tempo now.

Eiji sprinted.

Gave it up early.

Taniguchi didn't hesitate.

One bounce.

Step-back.

Kaito contested.

Still hit it.

71 – 72.

…

Back to Horizon.

Dirga didn't call a play.

He walked it.

Kaito was breathing heavy—

But steady.

Dirga waited.

Then flicked a look.

Cut.

Kaito moved—

No hesitation.

Slipped into the paint.

Taniguchi chased.

Tried to slip over the top—

Too late.

Dirga's pass?

Threaded daylight.

Kaito caught.

Turned.

Midair leaner.

Splash.

73 – 72.

…

Time Remaining: 0:31

Kurotsuki inbounded fast—

Eiji sprinted.

Passed off to Toshiro.

Dumped it inside.

Sho turned—hook shot—

Missed.

Rikuya grabbed the board.

Outlet—Dirga.

Dirga bounced it up slow.

Surgical. Controlled.

Everything felt too loud now—

Every step.

Every breath.

Every heartbeat hammering against the gym walls.

But Dirga wasn't shaken.

He was thinking.

Watching.

Folding pressure into clarity.

They're locked in on Kaito and Taniguchi now.

Not a duel anymore. A flame war.

Two sharpshooters with unfinished history.

And Kurotsuki's defense?

Watching it like fans.

He slid to the top of the arc.

Kaito broke hard to the right wing.

Taniguchi mirrored—

Instant. Relentless.

They collided.

No foul.

No space.

Only will.

Eyes blazing.

Bodies screaming: this is mine.

Dirga let it breathe.

Let the tension stack.

He knew what the crowd wanted.

He knew what Kurotsuki expected.

So he sold it.

Fake step.

Eyes right.

Body angled—like a pass was coming.

Kaito slammed his heel down.

Taniguchi reached.

Everyone leaned.

Even the cameras adjusted.

And in Dirga's mind—

A whisper:

You're all watching the fire...

So I'll be the blade in the smoke.

Snap. Crossover.

Dirga cut left.

Split the seam at the elbow.

Toshiro reacted late.

Sho stepped—

Too slow.

It wasn't a pass.

It was a pull-up.

Dirga rose.

Square. Calm.

Wrist soft.

Release. Float. Spin. Arc.

Time hiccupped—

Just for a heartbeat.

Then—

Swish.

75 – 72 .

No celebration.

Just the sound of breath being stolen from every seat in the gym.

"DIRGA DIDN'T PASS—HE STOLE THE SPOTLIGHT!"

"Kaito and Taniguchi were bait—and Dirga walked through the fire like smoke with a blade."

Dirga landed.

Backpedaled.

Not smiling.

Just breathing.

Let them chase the heat.

I'll be the checkmate.

…

Kurotsuki rushed.

Taniguchi fired a contested three—

Kaito rose with him.

Front rim.

Rikuya rebounded.

Outlet to Dirga.

Foul drawn.

Free throw one—good.

76 – 72 .

Second—good.

77 – 72 .

The last Kurotsuki have missed the rim entirely.

Buzzer.

Final score:

Toyonaka Horizon High 77 - Nagano Kurotsuki High 72

…

The buzzer faded into silence.

Dirga stood still.

Center court.

The ball no longer in his hands.

No roar.

Just rising breath.

His teammates flooded in from the sideline—

Taiga throwing a fist into the air.

Aizawa yelling something lost in the noise.

Kaito trailing, chest still burning from the duel that didn't end in a shot—

But in a pass.

And Dirga?

He didn't raise his arms.

Didn't shout.

Didn't glow.

He just whispered beneath it all:

"Second time now."

"Second time I didn't need it."

"No Flow State…"

He looked toward the rim—

Still rattling softly from his game-sealer.

Then at his teammates.

Still connected.

Still locked into rhythm.

"Which means…"

"I'm growing."

"We're all growing."

A breath.

A heartbeat.

A smile.

Not big.

But real.

"We don't need miracles anymore."

"We are the miracle."

He turned.

Walked back to the bench—

Through the pulse of stomping fans,

Trailing lights,

And flashbulbs.

No magic.

No tricks.

Just Horizon.

Still rising.