The match against Akashi left Souta Fujimura shaken. No matter how fast he moved or how deceptive his Phantom Step was, it hadn't mattered. Akashi had read through everything, controlled the game with terrifying precision, and crushed him effortlessly.
The words still echoed in Souta's mind.
"As long as I am on the court, you will never defeat me."
That wasn't arrogance. That was fact.
And that fact pissed Souta off more than anything.
He had come to this world knowing that the Generation of Miracles were monsters, but this was different. Akashi wasn't just strong—he dictated reality on the court. It was as if he could see into the future, forcing opponents to move exactly how he wanted.
How the hell do I beat something like that?
Souta clenched his fists as he sat alone in the locker room. The other first-string players had already left, but he couldn't bring himself to move. His heart was still pounding, his mind replaying every mistake he had made.
Was he really destined to lose to Akashi?
No. That's bullshit.
He refused to believe that fate was absolute.
If Akashi can see the future, then I'll just move in ways even he can't predict.
A notification from the Basketball System suddenly appeared in his mind.
[New Challenge Unlocked!][Defy the Emperor: Develop an Unreadable Playstyle][Objective: Create a technique that can bypass predictive abilities][Reward: ???]
Souta's breath hitched.
This was it.
His next step.
But how?
How could he become unreadable, even to someone like Akashi?
Souta's mind raced as he stood up and left the locker room. The gym was mostly empty now, except for one person still practicing.
Tetsuya Kuroko.
Souta watched as Kuroko practiced his passes, his movements so subtle and unnoticeable that the ball disappeared mid-air before landing in the net.
That was it.
Kuroko's misdirection worked by erasing his presence. But what if Souta amplified his presence unpredictably instead of erasing it?
A style where he constantly shifted his rhythm, never moving in the same way twice.
If Akashi read movements based on pattern recognition, then Souta needed to become patternless.
Kuroko must have noticed Souta staring, because he turned toward him and tilted his head slightly.
"Souta, you look troubled."
Souta grinned despite himself. "Yeah. Akashi destroyed me."
Kuroko nodded, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "That is to be expected."
"Gee, thanks," Souta muttered. "You're supposed to say something encouraging."
Kuroko blinked. "You are strong, Fujimura. But Akashi is… different. He sees things others do not."
Souta nodded. "I get that. That's why I need to change how I play."
Kuroko was silent for a moment before passing the ball to Souta. "Then let's practice."
Souta caught it and felt a rush of energy.
This was why he liked Kuroko. No unnecessary words. Just action.
And so, that night, Souta began rebuilding his game from the ground up.
The next few weeks were brutal.
Every morning before school, Souta practiced alone, refining his unpredictable rhythm. Instead of relying on set plays or fixed patterns, he mixed different speeds, misdirection, and sudden stops into his game.
If Akashi dictated movements by predicting patterns, then Souta would destroy patterns entirely.
Even Kuroko, who was usually unshakable, struggled to keep up with Souta's shifting tempo.
"You are moving in a way that doesn't make sense," Kuroko commented one day after a scrimmage.
"Exactly," Souta grinned. "If I don't understand my own movements, how the hell is Akashi supposed to?"
It was insane.
But it just might work.
However, training wasn't enough.
He needed to test this new style in a real match.
And fate handed him the perfect opportunity.
The Teikou first-string team was scheduled to have an internal scrimmage.
First-string versus first-string.
Which meant Souta had another chance to go up against Akashi Seijuro.
As the team gathered in the gym, the tension was electric. The five members of the Generation of Miracles were undisputed as Teikou's strongest players, but the rest of the first-stringers were also elite.
This was the perfect battleground.
And this time, Souta wasn't just here to participate.
He was here to win.
Coach divided the teams, mixing up the starters so that the power balance was somewhat even.
Souta's team included Aomine and Midorima, while Akashi's team had Kise and Murasakibara.
Kuroko, of course, was with Akashi.
Souta tightened his grip on the ball.
This is it. Show me what you got, Akashi.
The match began, and immediately, the intensity skyrocketed.
Murasakibara dominated the paint, swatting away shots like they were nothing. Midorima countered by raining down three-pointers from absurd distances.
Aomine went head-to-head with Kise, the two clashing in an explosive display of speed and skill.
But Souta's focus was on one person only.
Akashi.
Souta dribbled up the court, and the moment Akashi stepped in front of him, he felt it again.
The invisible pressure of the Emperor's Eye.
Akashi smirked. "I hope you haven't come to challenge fate again, Fujimura."
Souta grinned. "Nah. Fate's boring."
Then, he moved.
But this time, it wasn't Phantom Step.
It was something completely different.
Souta's rhythm became erratic—one moment slow, the next lightning-fast. He stopped abruptly, then accelerated sideways in a half-spin. He stumbled on purpose, only to recover in an unnatural direction.
No set patterns. No readable movements. No logic.
For the first time—
Akashi's eyes narrowed.
Souta cut past him.
I did it!
But just as he thought he had broken through—
A blur of pink flashed before him.
The ball was stolen.
Souta looked up in shock as Kuroko passed the ball away before he even knew what happened.
Akashi smirked. "That was impressive. But I am not the only one you have to surpass."
Souta exhaled.
Dammit.
He had gotten past Akashi.
But beating him wasn't enough.
He had to surpass all of them.
The scrimmage continued, and even though his new playstyle worked, the Generation of Miracles were still monsters.
Aomine's raw power.
Kise's adaptability.
Midorima's precision.
Murasakibara's dominance.
And Akashi's absolute control.
Souta fought hard, but in the end, his team lost by five points.
As he stood there, drenched in sweat, he clenched his fists.
I got past Akashi once.
Next time, it'll be twice. Then three times.
Because no matter what anyone said—
No fate was unbreakable.
And he was going to prove it.
After the game, Akashi approached him once more.
"You exceeded my expectations, Fujimura."
Souta smirked. "What, not gonna say I'll never beat you again?"
Akashi's crimson eyes gleamed. "You are an anomaly. I will not make predictions about you yet."
Souta chuckled.
That was good enough for now.
Because this was just the beginning.
And one day—
He would stand above them all.