readytorunbook Chapter 93: Horizon VS Seiryuu : Maestro’s Final Symphony 1
Chapter 93: Horizon VS Seiryuu : Maestro’s Final Symphony 1
Chapter 93: Horizon VS Seiryuu : Maestro’s Final Symphony 1Fourth Quarter
Score: 65 – 61
It wasn’t the twenty-point cushion from earlier.
Not even ten.
But a lead... was a lead.
Still, the pressure inside Horizon’s huddle felt heavier than the scoreboard.
Because the truth was simple—and dangerous:
They still hadn’t cracked Seiryuu’s code.
And now, they were out of time.
Coach Tsugawa crouched in front of the players, his voice calm but edged with urgency.
"This is our final quarter," he began. "And the only way we’re winning this... is by throwing something Seiryuu hasn’t fully prepared for."
Eyes turned toward him. Even the tired ones sharpened.
"We’ll open with Small Ball," Tsugawa continued. "They’ve seen glimpses of it before. But not enough to map it. Not enough to predict it."
He turned to Kaito, who’d just rejoined the team after a short rest.
"You good to go?"
Kaito nodded, still winded, but eyes focused.
"I’m good. Believe in me, Coach."
"I do," Tsugawa said. Then pointed.
"Our lineup: Kaito at point guard. Dirga at shooting guard. Hiroki on the wing. Aizawa at the four. Taiga down low at center. Rikuya, you’ll sit for now."
Dirga nodded, already visualizing the play.
Tsugawa’s voice dropped a little—lower, steadier.
"Dirga, I want you to move like we’ve done before in this formation. But this time—look for Rei. Work the screens. Get open. Get him open. Whatever it takes. Everyone else—scramble their reads. Make their data useless."
A final pause.
"I believe in all of you. Play smart. Play free."
A chorus of "Yes, Coach!" echoed back.
As Horizon broke the huddle, Dirga glanced toward Seiryuu’s bench.
Silent.
Stone still.
Focused like snipers.
Seta and Teshima didn’t say a word. Their eyes were locked on the floor, their fingers twitching as if running invisible plays.
They weren’t just ready.
They were in the zone.
Dirga stepped onto the court. The polished wood beneath his sneakers felt warmer now, the crowd a muted roar behind his heartbeat. He could feel the weight of it—
This moment.
This chance.
Just one more match to reach the finals.
Just one quarter left to survive.
And then it hit him:
It doesn’t matter if Seiryuu reads us.
It doesn’t matter if they know our habits.
Our cuts. Our spacing. Our plays.
As long as we keep scoring.
As long as we stay one step ahead—
Even by one point... we win.
So don’t overthink it.
Don’t play scared.
Play free.
...
The whistle blew.
Fourth Quarter.
Seiryuu possession.
And the final battle began.
The air in the gym thickened—heavy, electric, like a storm was about to break. Every squeak of sneakers echoed louder. Every breath was drawn sharper. Sweat ran like raindrops down foreheads, but no one wiped it away. Eyes locked. Muscles clenched.
This was it.
Not just a quarter.
A war.
Teshima brought the ball up slowly, but his mind moved faster than light. His pupils shrank, scanning, calculating—like a processor absorbing raw input. His steps were calm, but his presence radiated pressure.
He was
They smelled it.
They struck.
Teshima to Seta.
Seta to Fujisawa on the roll.
Taiga rotated too late—slam.
73 – 69.
Next trip: Horizon rushed it.
Dirga tried to improvise again—slipped past one, two defenders—but Seta was already there.
Step-in charge.
Offensive foul.
Ball to Seiryuu.
And for the first time since the first quarter... Seiryuu moved for the kill.
Teshima didn’t dribble like a guard now.
He moved like a predator.
Screen left—ignored.
Jab step. Crossover.
Dirga stayed with him, but just a half-step late.
Pull-up jumper.
Net. Clean.
73 – 71.
The gym shifted.
The silence between the sounds grew heavier.
Like everyone in the arena had started holding their breath.
Horizon tried to answer.
Dirga came off a stagger screen. Hiroki set a hard one—Rei delivered the pass.
Shot.
Too strong.
Rebound—Fujisawa again.
Outlet to Seta.
Dirga chased, heart hammering, steps burning.
Seta passed early—Teshima, wide open on the wing.
Bang.
73 – 74.
The net barely fluttered, but the sound cracked through the air like a slap.
The scoreboard flipped.
For the first time since the first quarter...
Seiryuu led.