The total score was 2–1, Kota in the lead, and Nash had possession.
This time, Nash stuck to the exact same offensive method as before. Facing Kota's defense, he didn't waste any extra movement—just a simple, no-frills drop step and a direct power drive. Using his physical advantage, he pushed through and scored.
Kota had mentally prepared for it, bracing himself well on defense. But the difference in physical build was still too much. Even with good positioning, he simply couldn't stop Nash in time.
And just like that, the total score was now 2–2.
Being scored on twice in a row by the same move, Kota frowned slightly. He didn't complain—he simply tossed the ball back to Nash.
Truth be told, from a defensive decision-making standpoint, Kota hadn't done anything wrong. The real reason he couldn't stop those shots… was purely physical limitations.
"If only I were a bit taller… a bit stronger… maybe I could guard Nash one-on-one."
Kota quietly shook his head, pushing that thought away.
He wasn't the type to blame fate or make excuses. Knowing his own shortcomings, he preferred improving himself instead of sulking about it.
But in this one-on-one, there was obviously no time to "improve himself."
Just like drawing cards—no matter how emotional you get, the hand you're holding won't magically change.
Fortunately, this one-on-one only goes to three… I still have a chance.
Kota lowered his gaze, watching Nash prepare to repeat the same exact move for the third time… and a plan formed in his heart.
I can only use this trick once. After this, he'll definitely catch on…
Kota took a deep breath. At this point, the situation was clear—his only chance to win was to use a surprise counter to stop Nash and then land the final point.
"For someone from USA, where you guys worship physical play… I'm pretty sure you've never seen this kind of defense before."
Kota muttered this in Mandarin.
Nash didn't understand him—not that he cared. The opportunity to end the match was right in front of him!
A quick between-the-legs dribble—the same clean, efficient setup.
Nash broke past half a step again, muscling his way into the paint. Feeling the pressure from Kota on his side, Nash held his breath, planted off his outside foot, and threw his whole weight into another powerful drive.
He was confident. The previous two plays proved that once he picked up speed, Kota had no effective way of stopping him.
But this time—Nash miscalculated.
The expected contact… never came.
Nash's expression froze in confusion. When he looked to the side, Kota was suddenly no longer there—he had slipped around Nash's body at the last moment, completely avoiding the collision.
With his center of gravity fully shifted, Nash could only watch helplessly as Kota slapped the ball out of bounds. Nash waved his arm as if trying to recover, but still crashed heavily onto the court.
Bang!
His back smacked the floor. Ignoring the pain, Nash lifted his head, staring at Kota and then at Akashi on the sideline, as if silently asking:
"How is that NOT a foul?!"
Akashi simply replied with his expression: "Nope. Not a foul."
"Don't look at me like that, Nash. That was clean defense. I didn't even touch you—how could it be a foul?"
Kota offered a hand and pulled Nash back to his feet before shaking his finger and walking to the offensive spot.
Nash finally processed what had happened. Looking at Kota gearing up to attack, his face twisted in frustration.
"Damn it, you did that on purpose?! Can you be ANY more shameless? That's not even BASKETBALL!"
Kota opened his mouth in exaggerated shock.
"The first half of that sounded like a compliment. The second half? Not so much."
"Sorry, but if the ref doesn't blow the whistle—it's a clean play."
Kota glanced at Akashi on the sideline.
"Also, we don't even have a ref right now. And for the record, even in a real official match, that move is a hundred percent uncalled."
Nash fell silent. As a current national player for USA, he had been through countless games—he knew the truth all too well:
If it isn't called, it's fair.
"Tch. Fine—have your free point."
Nash grumbled, dropping into a defensive stance, his expression serious.
Losing his chance to end the match stung—of course it did.
But between Kota's defense and offense, Nash definitely preferred testing Kota's attack.
"Make the most of this possession. If you miss, I'm not giving you another chance."
Nash said it mockingly—but Kota knew he wasn't joking.
"Don't worry, Nash. I've still got plenty of surprises to show you."
Before he finished speaking, Kota launched into offense—a quick spin fake to open the battle.
Nash's eyes sharpened. His defensive slide was fast, matching Kota step for step. With his superior physique, Nash could limit Kota's drives pretty effectively.
All he had to do was guard against the shot—and nothing unexpected would happen.
Both of them understood this perfectly.
Just like the earlier exchanges, Kota created space with a bump and step-back, raising the ball as if to shoot.
But Nash, with his Belial Eye, wasn't buying it. His eyes locked onto Kota's hands—he immediately saw through the hesitation move and refused to jump, choosing instead to crash forward and pressure tightly.
"Tsk…"
The fake didn't land. Kota clicked his tongue, slid into a double between-the-legs dribble, and pulled back to reset. But Nash wasn't giving him any room—pushing up tighter and tighter, trying to lock him outside.
That's when Kota's danger sense kicked in.
The hairs on his forearms stood up. In his vision, Nash's reaching arm slowed dramatically—almost like slow motion.
Kota spun away just in time, narrowly avoiding the steal.
And high risk… came with high reward.
Because of that reach, Nash's positioning had shifted—just enough.
Kota didn't waste the chance. He accelerated, slicing straight toward the rim.
"Don't underestimate me, you bastard!"
Nash roared, spinning back into pursuit.
He couldn't fully keep up, but with his elite athleticism, even jumping late, he believed he could still block Kota into the wall.
But Kota… had anticipated that as well.
With a sharp stop, Kota rose as if to shoot—ball clasped in both hands, eyes locked on the rim.
Behind him, Nash exploded upward, his large frame cutting off the lights above as his shadow swallowed Kota completely.
"This one's mine!!"
His confident shout echoed in the air—
Then, within the shadow cast over him, Kota's lips curled into a faint smirk.
"You really thought… you had me?"
Kota's voice rang out, ethereal and oddly distant in Nash's ears.
"How…? You already gathered the ball. What else can you even—"
Before he could finish, Kota answered him.
Off one foot, Kota lunged forward toward the hoop. Then, both feet pushed off—
A massive side-step jump, covering an absurd horizontal distance.
Under Nash's stunned eyes, Kota's hands extended, releasing the ball toward the rim.
Swish!
The crisp whisper of the net.
The "Up-and-Down Step" — once again appearing in the world of Kuroko.
Final score: 3–2. Kota wins.
...
Beep-beep, beep-beep—
At the supermarket checkout counter—
Reiko tapped her foot impatiently as she waited, gripping her shirt hem tightly—a clear sign she was absolutely furious.
Listening to the endless ringing from the other end, her expression grew darker and darker, ready to explode at any moment.
Finally, the call connected.
"Hello?"
Kota's voice came through the phone. Reiko lost it instantly.
"HELLO WHAT?! Do you have ANY idea how long you've been gone just to move a box of water?! A whole hour!! At this rate I could've CRAWLED back and forth three times!"
"Uh… sorry, sorry. I kinda… forgot. Something unexpected came up."
Kota sounded genuinely embarrassed—he really had forgotten Reiko was waiting at the store.
"And what kind of 'unexpected situation' delays you for an entire hour? Where even ARE you right now?"
Reiko asked.
Kota thought for a moment before answering casually:
"I'm in an alley. About to get into a fight."
Reiko nodded knowingly.
"Oh, so you're in an alley about to get into a figh— DO YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT?!"
Her volume skyrocketed, forcing Kota to hold the phone away from his ear.
He glanced at Nash—already cracking his knuckles and getting ready again—and awkwardly said:
"Sorry, give me a sec to deal with something."
"Feel free."
Nash replied politely.
Reiko, however, was FAR less understanding and still convinced he was lying.
Realizing he couldn't explain this by himself, Kota rubbed his forehead and handed the phone to Akashi.
Akashi looked at Kota once, then spoke into the phone:
"Hello, this is Akashi Seijuro. I can confirm everything Kota said is true."
There was a long, heavy pause on the line.
Reiko clearly knew how famous "Akashi Seijuro" was in Japan.
And yet, the next moment—
"Heh. And if you're Akashi, then I'm your father! Put Kota back on the phone. You seriously found someone to PRETEND to be Akashi? Give that guy an acting award!"