Souta Fujimura stood alone in the Teikou gym, sweat dripping from his silver-white hair onto the polished wooden floor. The echo of a bouncing basketball filled the empty space, a steady rhythm to his thoughts.
His match against Akashi earlier had proven something important—he was no longer just a shadow among giants. He had begun carving his own path, developing his unique skillset.
But he wasn't satisfied.
Because knowing how to play wasn't enough.
He needed to push himself beyond his current limits.
The Weight of Expectation
The next day, Teikou's first-string team gathered in the locker room before practice. Coach Shirogane had a clipboard in hand, his sharp eyes scanning over the players before stopping on Souta.
"Fujimura."
Souta straightened. "Yes, Coach?"
"Your performance in practice has been impressive. You've earned a spot in the starting lineup for our next match."
A ripple of surprise spread through the locker room.
Aomine raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Looks like we've got a new star rising."
Kise whistled. "Souta-cchi's moving up fast!"
Even Midorima gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.
Souta, however, wasn't celebrating yet. He knew that being in the starting lineup wasn't a reward—it was a test.
If he wanted to prove he belonged among the Generation of Miracles, he would have to dominate on the court.
And he was ready.
Game Day: Teikou vs. Kyoto Academy
The arena buzzed with excitement as Teikou's first-string team took their positions on the court. Their opponents, Kyoto Academy, were no pushovers—while not on Teikou's level, they were known for their aggressive full-court defense.
Souta's heart pounded as he stepped onto the court. This was his first official match as a starter.
He wasn't going to let it slip away.
The First Challenge
The game began, and Kyoto wasted no time applying pressure defense.
The moment Kuroko passed Souta the ball, two defenders rushed him, cutting off his angles.
They're fast.
But Souta was faster.
With a quick pivot, he vanished between them, utilizing Phantom Step to slip through the smallest gap.
The Kyoto players stumbled, caught off guard.
Souta drove forward, scanning the court. Aomine was open near the baseline.
He flicked a pass his way—clean, precise.
Aomine caught it, grinning.
"You're finally getting the hang of this, huh?"
Then, with a blur of movement, Aomine pulled off his signature unpredictable drive, breaking through Kyoto's defense before dunking effortlessly.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Teikou: 2Kyoto: 0
Souta exhaled. He had broken through the first challenge, but the game was far from over.
The Evolution of Phantom Control
As the match progressed, Souta continued to test his new Phantom Control technique.
By subtly guiding his opponents into unnatural defensive positions, he controlled the flow of the game.
When a defender overcommitted? He would slip past them.
When Kyoto tried to double-team Aomine? Souta would shift, forcing them to adjust their spacing—creating an opening for a clean pass.
Even Midorima, watching from beyond the arc, noticed.
"This is interesting," he muttered. "He's manipulating the court without them realizing it."
Akashi smirked from the sidelines. "That's what makes him dangerous."
Kyoto's defense was strong, but Souta's Phantom Control was stronger.
And soon, Teikou took over the game.
The Moment of Recognition
By the third quarter, Teikou was leading 64-42.
But Kyoto wasn't giving up.
Their ace player, a sharp-eyed shooting guard named Satoshi Kirishima, had figured something out.
He started anticipating Souta's movements, blocking his passing lanes.
For the first time, Souta was being countered.
He gritted his teeth.
Alright. If I can't play around him… I'll take him head-on.
Souta called for the ball.
Kuroko's pass slipped through defenders, landing in his hands.
Kirishima immediately closed in.
Souta didn't hesitate—he activated Phantom Step, vanishing from his field of vision.
But Kirishima reacted instantly, shifting his stance, anticipating his next move.
Souta smirked. Too bad I'm not moving where you think I am.
Instead of reappearing where Kirishima expected, he used a delayed step, forcing Kirishima to over-adjust—leaving an open lane.
Souta broke through, sprinting toward the basket.
A defender rushed in to stop him.
He **jumped—**but instead of shooting, he passed.
The ball landed perfectly in Kise's hands.
Kise grinned. "Nice one, Souta-cchi!"
Then, with a smooth motion, he copied Midorima's high-arcing three-pointer—swish.
The crowd exploded.
Teikou: 79Kyoto: 52
Kirishima stared at Souta, realization dawning in his eyes.
This guy… isn't normal.
Souta just smiled.
This was his game now.
The Final Blow
By the fourth quarter, Kyoto was completely overwhelmed.
Aomine was scoring effortlessly.
Kise was toying with his defender.
Midorima had started firing from half-court just to prove a point.
And Souta?
He was everywhere.
Guiding movements, creating openings, setting up plays—controlling the game.
With two minutes left, Akashi finally spoke from the bench.
"That's enough."
The starters were pulled, the match already decided.
Final Score: Teikou 102 - Kyoto 64
Souta sat on the bench, wiping sweat from his forehead.
He had done it.
He had proven himself.
As he glanced at his teammates, even Aomine gave him a nod of approval.
Akashi met his gaze. "Welcome to the top."
Souta smiled.
He wasn't just keeping up anymore.
He was becoming one of them.
And this was only the beginning.