CHAPTER 49: MOUNTAIN TRIAL : REMATCH

Toyonaka versus Kurama.

Though battered and bruised, Toyonaka came out like warriors possessed. They’d studied the Kurama team’s limitations during their previous matches, and now they pressed every weakness like master tacticians.

Buzz was held under control thanks to coordinated doubles. Renjiro’s three-point rain was disrupted by tight contests. Yu Tamura’s lack of physical contact was punished with aggressive drives, while Masaru’s jump limitations were exploited by Haruto and Daichi relentlessly hammering the paint.

And Masaki?

Masaki King unleashed hell.

The court belonged to him. He turned every mistake into punishment, every crack into a flood. Kurama’s defense couldn’t cage his rhythm. He was flowing—cutting, spinning, pulling up, finishing through contact. He played like a man possessed, a warrior who had tasted the bitterness of loss and refused to be humbled again.

But even with Toyonaka’s resurgence, the Kurama team didn’t break.

They bent. Adjusted.

Buzz stopped attacking after hitting his cap and turned into a pure facilitator. Sota’s rhythm held firm. Masaru saved his jumps for only crucial contests. Even Yu, despite his physical limitations, made smart rotations and denied passing lanes. They played like a single machine, each gear grinding against Toyonaka’s force.

The game went to seven.

The final score?

Kurama 4 – Toyonaka 3.

Another close one. Another lesson in the mountain.

But now, the final match awaited.

Kurama vs Horizon. The rematch.

And this time...

Everything was on the line.

...

Game 1

Tip-off.

Dirga immediately slowed the pace—not with hesitation, but with purpose. He moved like he was setting a trap, dribbling in short bursts, shifting rhythms, reading Sota’s subtle tics.

Buzz tried to engage early, scoring fast. Three points. Four. Six.

Not again, Dirga thought.

Instead of pressing, he let Buzz burn out the clock on his cap.

By the time Buzz hit eight, Dirga had baited three passes from him into steals. On the other end, Rikuya kept punishing Masaru—forcing him to use all three defensive jumps in the first five minutes.

With Masaru grounded, Dirga ran pick-and-roll with Taiga, who barreled through Yu like a truck. Every mismatch was used. Every weakness exposed.

Kurama tried to respond—but Sota’s rhythm stuttered under the erratic tempo. Dirga’s chaos was contained, but his improvisation was no less deadly.

A fadeaway jumper from Rei ended the game.

Horizon 1 – Kurama 0

...

Game 2

Kurama struck back.

Sota took full control, and their pace became surgical. Buzz scored only four, but his assists spiked—he’d adapted. Masaru was benched early to save jumps. Renjiro played off-ball screens like a ghost, draining two deep threes.

Dirga tried to keep the flow broken, but Kurama had changed.

They weren’t reacting.

They were anticipating.

Even with Dirga switching styles mid-game, Sota danced between the gaps, never flinching.

Final minute, tied score.

Dirga tried to force a pass inside—Sota stole it.

Fast break.

Dunk.

Horizon 1 – Kurama 1

...

Game 3

Time to reset.

Dirga inhaled deeply.

Less flash. More bite.

He opened by drawing contact from Yu—exposing his inability to absorb hits. Then, he ran screens into Renjiro, drawing switches. Every possession had a purpose.

But what truly changed?

Dirga began talking.

Not trash. Not orders.

Signals.

He called sets. Adjusted on the fly. Told Hiroki when to cut. Fed Rei for spot-up shots. When Kaito subbed in, Dirga deferred without hesitation.

The chaos became structure.

Like a storm... with a center.

Buzz hit his cap at six points. Masaru jumped once. Twice. Third time.

Rikuya spun into a drop-step and dunked.

Horizon 2 – Kurama 1

...

Game 4

Kurama answered again.

They returned with Sota off-ball and Yu handling the point. A slower, grindier game. They killed the clock. Every shot with under five seconds. Every rebound contested.

It was a war of attrition.

Dirga burned energy early trying to collapse the zone. But Kurama clogged every lane. Even with limited jumps, Masaru’s presence altered enough shots to slow them.

A late-game misread by Horizon led to a missed rotation. Buzz capitalized with a mid-range dagger.

Horizon 2 – Kurama 2

...

Game 5

Now the series was boiling.

Dirga tightened everything.

He began using what he’d learned.

Masaru only jumped when the ball was inside his range.

So Dirga faked drives, baited the jump... and passed.

Yu couldn’t body up—so Dirga funneled offense through Taiga and Rikuya inside.

Renjiro was three-point-only—so Dirga had Hiroki play tight with no help, forcing a contested dribble he didn’t want to take.

Buzz?

Let him score early. When he hit seven points, Horizon boxed out completely. No more passes. No more cuts.

They squeezed every flaw until Kurama cracked.

Horizon 3 – Kurama 2

...

Game 6

Match point.

But Kurama didn’t fold.

They rotated playmakers—Sota, Buzz, even Yu.

They scrambled formations.

And it worked.

Dirga tried adjusting, but Kurama’s tempo was ever-shifting. He couldn’t use rhythm-busting tactics on a team that had no rhythm.

They went full jazz.

And Horizon?

They flinched.

Miscommunication led to sloppy screens. One missed rebound turned into three points. And Renjiro, dead quiet all game, hit a corner three at the buzzer.

Horizon 3 – Kurama 3

Match tied.

...

Game 7

Dirga stood at center court, drenched in sweat.

Across from him, Buzz bounced the ball with a grin.

"You ready, kid?" he said.

Dirga nodded.

"Let’s eat."

The final match was chaos—and this time, that was the plan.

Dirga ran staggered offenses. Horizon’s passes were delayed, misdirected, turned into motion. The court became unpredictable. Kurama struggled to rotate. Sota’s timing cracked. Masaru couldn’t keep up with the misdirections. Yu was isolated and punished.

Buzz hit six. Stopped. Sota passed. Intercepted.

Last possession.

Score tied.

Dirga drove into the paint.

Masaru was out of jumps.

Yu backed away.

Dirga pump-faked. Passed to Rei.

Corner three.

Bang.

Horizon 4 – Kurama 3

Victory.

Dirga fell to the floor, arms wide, lungs aching, vision blurred from sweat.

The team erupted.

"No more grey food!" Taiga yelled.

Kaito fist-pumped the sky.

Rei hugged Hiroki and Aizawa like brothers in arms.

Dirga smiled up at the ceiling, breathless, body aching but heart light.

They had survived.

They had won.

And tonight, they would feast.