I Died on the Court, Now I'm Back to Rule It
Chapter 151: Horizon VS Kurotsuki : The Overture 2

Chapter 151: Horizon VS Kurotsuki : The Overture 2

Two players shaped not by noise—

But by the silence between shots.

The tension that exists in the seconds no one claps for.

Dirga narrowed his eyes.

A thought surfaced—

Unwelcome.

But impossible to shake.

"Is this just defense..."

"...or something deeper?"

...

Next possession.

Kurotsuki reset.

Eiji stepped up—

Then waved off the initial set.

This time—

Taniguchi didn’t move.

No motion. No feint. No glide.

He stood.

Still.

In the weak-side corner.

Bait?

Kaito didn’t bite.

Didn’t drift.

Didn’t glance at the ball.

Just held his stance.

Low. Balanced. Focused.

Eyes on the silence.

Eiji pushed anyway.

Drove mid.

Then fired a bounce pass—slick, sharp—into the pocket.

Baseline pop-up.

Taniguchi.

But Kaito was already there.

On his shoulder before the ball hit his hands.

Taniguchi caught.

Jumped.

Kaito rose with him.

Not to block.

Not to swat.

Just to be there.

To erase the air.

Clank.

Short.

Rebound—Taiga.

No cheer from the bench.

No roar from Tsugawa.

Just a nod.

Quiet.

Measured.

Pressure without volume.

Horizon was burning through the fog—

And now?

The shadows were blinking.

Kurotsuki jogged back.

Still in formation.

Still crisp.

But—

Half a beat late.

Like dancers off-rhythm.

Like ghosts trying to remember they were human.

Dirga felt it.

Not in their steps—

But in his chest.

He slowed at the arc.

One breath.

Calm.

Then—

Let go.

[Maestro’s Pulse – Active Trigger: Maestro State – 60 seconds]

Not an explosion.

A convergence.

A resonance across five players.

Dirga’s heartbeat synchronized.

Taiga’s screens—he felt the torque in his hips.

Aizawa’s cuts—he predicted the angles.

Kaito’s breath—he sensed the tension before the burst.

One mind.

Five bodies.

He raised a hand.

Then flicked his fingers—once.

Signal.

Taiga lifted—mid-screen. Toshiro went with him.

Kaito dipped—baseline shadow—then flared out.

Gone. Then back.

Just long enough.

Aizawa ghosted into the slot.

Perfect beat.

Rikuya braced up top, sealing Sho away.

Dirga drifted left.

Paused.

Let them shift.

Let them guess.

Then—

Whip pass.

Across the body.

No look. No delay.

Aizawa. Free-throw line.

Catch. Elevate. Float.

In.

7 – 9.

"AIZAWA HITS IT! Horizon’s slicing through now!"

"Dirga’s not running plays—he’s reading their system in real time!"

...

Kurotsuki tried to reset.

Eiji motioned for a false reversal—

Toshiro curled high—

A mislead, a misdirection.

But—

Taiga was already there.

Because Dirga had shifted him three seconds ago.

No words.

No shouts.

Just rhythm.

Like a conductor cuing a section before the note lands.

Deflection.

Loose ball.

Dirga dove.

Hands out. Body stretched.

Snatched it mid-tumble.

Scrambled up.

No fast break.

No chaos.

He held it.

Cradled it.

Controlled it.

Because now—

He was the tempo.

Dirga walked it forward.

Maestro State: Active.

Vision wide.

Heartbeat even.

Every sound on the court—mapped.

He glanced right—

A twitch. A signal.

Kaito dipped baseline.

Then rose—

A flash from the corner.

Dirga’s bounce pass—surgical.

Skimming the floor. Threading shadows.

Kaito. Catch.

Defender late. Half-step behind.

Rise.

Release.

Bang.

10 – 9.

"KAITO AGAIN!"

"Dirga’s threading needles out there—he’s not just calling the beat, he’s setting the entire rhythm of the game!"

The bench clapped—

Not wild. Not loose.

Sharp. Measured. Focused.

But then—

Tsugawa raised his hand.

Sub.

Rei stood.

Tugged down his warmup.

Kaito paused mid-jog.

Frowned. Barely.

Then nodded.

One clean pivot to the sideline.

No protest.

No plea.

But—

He gripped his jersey.

Tight.

Not at Tsugawa.

Not at the game.

At his own chest.

Something was off.

The rhythm was there—

Finally flowing.

But his heart—

Was skipping.

Half-beats.

And Tsugawa had seen it.

Kaito sat.

Not bitter.

But burning.

Not at them.

At himself.

On the court—

Rei stepped in.

No fanfare.

No aura.

Just presence.

Lean. Light-footed.

A player who didn’t force tempo—

He slipped into it.

And Dirga—still locked in Maestro State—

Adjusted.

The geometry changed.

The awareness recalibrated.

And it fit.

The ball landed in Eiji’s hands.

Mid-wing. Right side.

He faced up.

Body soft. Eyes sharp.

Then—

It activated.

[Black Mirage – Active Trigger: Counterveil]

The ball in Eiji’s hands—

Vanished.

One blink—gone.

No flick. No pass.

Just absence.

Kurotsuki froze.

Eyes wide.

A breath of confusion.

Then—

They snapped to react.

Quick. Disciplined.

But Horizon—

They were already in motion.

Rei darted baseline.

A blur.

Ghosting behind the collapsing defense.

Taiga flared out mid-switch—

Drawing attention.

Stretching the zone’s left edge.

Rikuya floated top-side.

A dummy screen.

A decoy.

Dirga dipped low—

Then sliced across the elbow, pulling two defenders with him.

No ball.

No look.

No hesitation.

Just rhythm.

Then—

Snap reversal.

Left corner.

Rei.

Catch.

Elevate.

Release.

Swish.

13 – 9.

"REI CHECKS IN—AND INSTANTLY SYNCS WITH DIRGA’S BEAT!"

"It’s like he never sat!"

"Horizon’s not just playing—they’re composing."

On the bench—

Kaito didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

But his hand was pressed tight against his ribs.

The one part of him—

That couldn’t keep up.

His breath shallow.

His pulse slightly off-tempo.

But his eyes—

Sharp. Watching. Burning.

Not bitter.

Not broken.

Just—

"Not done yet."

...

Timeout: Kurotsuki.

The whistle cut through the air—

Like a blade through glass.

Eiji turned without a word.

Taniguchi followed—expressionless.

But his fingers twitched.

Just once.

Like a shadow breaking under light.

They sat.

All five.

No shouting.

No towel tosses.

Just breathing.

Tight. Measured.

But heavier now.

Their coach—Fujisawa Renji—stood in front of them.

Back straight.

Arms behind.

Eyes calm.

He didn’t draw.

Didn’t crouch.

Didn’t even blink for a moment.

Then—he spoke.

"You’re lagging behind the echo."

No one answered.

He gave a quiet nod—like he already knew.

"They’ve shifted from tempo to harmony."

"They’re not reading plays."

"They’re reading each other."

His voice didn’t rise.

It dropped—

Like falling temperature.

"That means we no longer lead."

"We react."

A pause.

Then—he turned.

To Toshiro

"Delay Taiga’s release by half a count."

To Eiji

"Invert your misdirection. Use mis execution."

"Let them bite first."

Then—to Taniguchi.

But he didn’t speak.

Just stared.

Long.

The Shadow Shooter didn’t blink.

Didn’t move.

But—

His breath caught.

Soft.

Shallow.

Just once.

The rhythm had bent.

And he felt it.

Finally—Renji spoke.

"This isn’t collapse."

"It’s contamination."

"Scrub it clean."