Teikou's gym was alive with the sound of bouncing basketballs and sneakers screeching against the polished wooden floors. The first-string team had gathered for another intense practice session, but today, something felt different. The air was heavier. The tension was thicker.
Souta Fujimura stood at the center of the court, wiping sweat from his brow. His match against Kuroko had opened his eyes to how far he still had to go, but more than that, it had made him hungry for growth.
He wasn't satisfied with just keeping up.
He wanted to surpass them.
But that goal was easier said than done, especially when he felt an eerie gaze settle on him. Souta turned his head slightly, his golden eyes meeting the piercing crimson ones of Akashi Seijuro.
The undisputed leader of the Generation of Miracles.
Souta's heartbeat quickened.
Akashi had been watching him.
And in Akashi's world, nothing happened without purpose.
The practice session began, but Souta couldn't shake the feeling that he was being analyzed. Every dribble, every step, every fake—Akashi was watching, calculating, predicting.
Then, midway through practice, Akashi finally spoke.
"Fujimura," he called out.
The gym fell silent.
Souta turned to face him, standing tall despite the weight of Akashi's presence. "Yeah?"
"One-on-one," Akashi said, spinning a basketball on his fingertips. "Right now."
Midorima adjusted his glasses, uninterested but mildly curious. Aomine smirked, clearly entertained. Kise and Murasakibara watched quietly, sensing that something important was about to happen.
Kuroko, standing to the side, met Souta's gaze with a knowing look.
Souta exhaled slowly.
This wasn't just a friendly match.
This was a test.
And he couldn't afford to fail.
They moved to the center of the court. Souta took possession of the ball first. He dribbled lightly, eyes locked onto Akashi.
He knew Akashi was a different kind of monster.
Not the fastest like Aomine.
Not the strongest like Murasakibara.
Not the most skilled like Kise.
But the most dangerous.
Akashi didn't just read plays—he controlled them. He didn't just react—he dictated how the game would unfold.
Souta had to be unpredictable.
He activated Phantom Step, shifting his speed irregularly. One moment fast, the next slow, a rhythm designed to disrupt normal defensive reactions.
But Akashi didn't flinch.
Souta made his move, faking left before cutting right—only for Akashi to step into his path perfectly.
It was as if he knew what Souta was going to do before he even did it.
"You cannot surpass me," Akashi stated calmly.
Souta gritted his teeth and spun away, barely avoiding a turnover. He reset, analyzing his options. Akashi wasn't reacting—he was controlling Souta's movements with just his positioning.
Souta changed tactics.
Instead of attacking in a straight line, he used Phantom Step again, fading into Akashi's blind spot before making a sharp cut to the basket.
For a split second, it worked.
He had a clear lane—until Akashi adjusted instantly, meeting him at the rim.
Souta leaped for a layup. Akashi didn't block it outright—he redirected it, forcing the ball to bounce awkwardly off the glass.
A clean defensive stop.
"You rely too much on deception," Akashi said. "Against opponents of lesser ability, it may work. But against me?"
He caught the ball effortlessly, turning to offense.
Souta barely had time to prepare before Akashi moved.
And when he did—
He vanished.
Souta's breath caught in his throat.
No, Akashi hadn't disappeared.
But his movements were so smooth, so perfectly controlled, that there were no wasted steps. No hints. No tells.
It was absolute domination in motion.
Akashi stopped at the free-throw line and released a mid-range jumper. The ball swished through the net without even grazing the rim.
Souta clenched his fists.
He had never felt this outclassed before.
Not even against Kise or Aomine.
But he wasn't about to give up.
They reset. This time, Souta's defense was sharper, his stance lower. He wouldn't let Akashi get past him so easily.
Akashi dribbled forward, his eyes locked onto Souta's.
Then, something changed.
Souta felt it.
The overwhelming pressure.
His instincts screamed at him to move.
And then—
His body reacted before he could think.
He shifted to the left—
Only to realize Akashi hadn't moved at all.
He had forced Souta to step away with just his presence.
Akashi smirked slightly before stepping into the open space Souta had just abandoned, scoring another clean jumper.
The game was over.
Souta stood frozen, his mind racing.
He had heard rumors.
The ability that made Akashi the undisputed king of the court.
The Emperor's Eye.
It wasn't just vision.
It was absolute control over the opponent's movements.
"You fought well," Akashi said, walking past him. "But remember this, Fujimura—"
His crimson gaze bore into Souta's.
"As long as I am on the court, you will never defeat me."
Souta exhaled shakily.
For the first time since his reincarnation, he felt truly helpless.
But deep inside, a fire ignited.
Because if Akashi was the strongest—
Then Souta would just have to surpass him.
And no amount of fate would stop him from reaching the top.