Chapter 8 Q

As the defending champions, Teiko was directly placed as a seeded team in Zone A at the start of the knockout stage, effectively securing their spot in the group stage without contest.

Zone A held no formidable opponents, and Teiko advanced through the first two group matches with ease, as if slicing through soft fruit.

During this period, Seijuro Akashi hesitated to field Tetsuya Kuroko as a starter; even the team manager couldn't discern his intentions.

Now that Coach Platinum was absent, Akashi was fulfilling both coach and captain roles, making it difficult for others to intervene.

Kuroko had spent many games warming the bench, watching his teammates in excellent form, and he was itching to get on the court.

Yet, an inexplicable, dreadful premonition weighed on him, as if some terrifying truth awaited.

"Akashi-kun, I want to start in the next game," Kuroko said before the third group match began.

Akashi gazed deeply into Kuroko’s eyes. Seeing the unwavering resolve there, he found himself unable to refuse. "Are you sure?"

Lately, Akashi made decisions without consulting anyone else.

This time, however, he wanted to refuse but couldn’t bring himself to speak it.

Kuroko nodded firmly. "Yes, I want to start."

Rarely silent, Akashi paused momentarily before nodding. "As you wish."

A nearly imperceptible sigh filled the air, making Kuroko wonder if his mind was playing tricks.

Why did the sense of dread grow heavier in his heart?

"Is this... really okay?"

Watching Kuroko’s retreating figure, Satsuki Momoi’s anxiety deepened.

Taiga Aomine was never one to hide things well; over time, she had gleaned bits of what these guys were up to. Seeing Kuroko happy, she tacitly accepted it.

But now that Kuroko was starting, some secrets might slip out...

"Maybe," Akashi said, unusually ambiguous.

If nothing unexpected happened, Kuroko, with his tendency to self-deceive, might not notice.

Yet Akashi couldn’t guarantee the others would stay rational.

Everything was uncertain.

After a long absence, Kuroko found the basketball court unfamiliar. In a daze, he felt a hand tap his shoulder.

"A-Kuro, remember to pass the ball to me," Taiga Aomine said with words both familiar and strange.

Kuroko felt uneasy; how long had it been since he last heard those words?

"Yeah, I will."

He heard himself say it.

The first two quarters unfolded predictably. Everyone remained as individualistic as ever, but it gave Kuroko a nostalgic feeling of the past.

"A-Kuro!" Aomine’s voice came from the right front. Hidden in the crowd, Kuroko swiftly reached out, altering a pass headed for the opponent.

Aomine, ready as ever, caught the ball perfectly—just like countless times before.

He swiftly bypassed his defender, took three steps, and soared for a dunk.

"Good! Another two points!" Aomine clenched his fist on landing.

"A-Kuro’s so biased! I only scored 16 points..." Atsushi Murasakibara protested.

"Midorima already has 28 points; if you can’t score, it’s your fault," Aomine raised an eyebrow.

"Yellow's almost surpassed you," Murasakibara said fiercely.

Kuroko’s ominous premonition grew stronger.

Strangely...

Why were they keeping score like this?

Shortly after the third quarter began, an increasingly impatient Aomine suddenly made a "mistake." According to Kuroko’s original passing plan, the ball was meant for Ryota Kise.

Yet Aomine, far outside this scheme, dashed in, intercepted the pass midway, and scored again.

"Huh?" Kuroko was taken aback.

Kise instantly jumped up. "Aomine! That ball was mine!"

"Stop whining," Aomine mockingly tugged his ear. "I can steal from anyone; the points are mine. If you don’t like it, come and take them back."

Irritated, Kise ignored everything. "Just wait!"

Confused, Kuroko passed the ball to Midorima, who was in the best spot to shoot a three-pointer.

But just as Kuroko sent the ball, Kise suddenly appeared, intercepting it.

Kise dribbled away, oblivious to the shocked expressions of Midorima and Kuroko.

Before Kise could shoot, Aomine blocked his path. After a tense two-second standoff, Aomine seized the ball from Kise.

"Ah! Aomine!!"

Hearing the quarrel, Kuroko felt lost.

Ah... so that’s how it is.

The tense string in Kuroko’s mind finally snapped.

He let the ball pass by without interception or continuation.

Midori, waiting for a pass, raised his hand halfway, only to see Kuroko make no move.

The opposing forward carried the ball and finished with a dunk.

"Kuroko?" Midori called out, puzzled.

Kuroko turned slowly, meeting Midori’s gaze.

Midori felt as if a bucket of icy water had been poured over his head. Kuroko’s soulless eyes were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Ah... so that’s why.

Aomine’s theft of Kise’s ball explained everything. Given previous clues, what else was there to wonder?

They were stealing points!

Those bastards... what the hell did they think this game was?

Akashi noticed the problem immediately and signaled the referee for a substitution.

At this point, it was time to replace the deteriorating Kuroko, so no one else suspected anything amiss.

Momoi hadn’t realized the truth until she saw Kuroko, seemingly soulless, being escorted back by Midori, nearly losing control.

They’d been found out.

She knew that with Kuroko’s keen sensitivity, it was only a matter of time before he discovered the truth.

But... it came too suddenly.

Back on the court, Midori shot a hard glance at Kise and Aomine, who hadn’t caught on and were still bickering over the last play.

He felt despair.

Kise was usually sharp, but once led astray by Aomine, he became utterly foolish.

Glancing back at the bench where Kuroko sat, Midori’s heart filled with helplessness.

"This is why I never agreed from the start..."

After Kuroko was subbed out, Teiko’s playstyle became unrestrained and unstoppable.

Especially Midori, who inexplicably went on a rampage, scoring thirty points alone in the fourth quarter, hitting a three-pointer every minute on average.

The final score was 158 to 27, with Teiko winning decisively.

It wasn’t until after the game, when the heat died down, that Kise realized something was wrong.

Kuroko was never one to show emotion outwardly, so from a distance, Kise hadn’t sensed anything.

He looked at Midori’s hopeless face, then at Akashi’s stern expression, and after a glare from Momoi, shifted his gaze to the silent Kuroko.

"Little Kuro..." he began.

Unaware of the situation, Aomine simply sat beside Kuroko. "A-Kuro, what’s wrong? We won, right? So don’t worry about it."

Midori sighed heavily.

"A-Da!" Momoi moved as if to rush over.

If the conflict between Aomine and Kise hadn’t escalated so far, and if Akashi had substituted Kuroko earlier, there might have been room for compromise.

But now, it was too late.

"You guys go back. I want to talk with Tetsuya," Akashi said, signaling Kise and Midori to calm down the agitated Momoi.

He took Kuroko to a quiet, secluded spot and stared at him for a long time before finally speaking.

"Is the truth always that important?"

Hearing this, Kuroko, on the verge of breaking down, lifted his head, eyes red and brimming with unspoken pleas.

"Why?"

"Why did you do this?"

His carefully pieced-together dream shattered completely in that instant.

And now... he didn’t know if he’d ever have a chance to rebuild it.

He couldn’t accept such blatant disrespect for the game from his closest teammates.

Akashi seemed puzzled. He stopped, turned, and looked coldly at Kuroko with merciless golden-orange eyes.

"You said you wanted everyone to take this seriously, didn’t you?"

Kuroko sensed Akashi’s anger but couldn’t understand its source.

A chill spread through him, like frost seeping from his bones.

Though it was summer in June, he felt like he had fallen into an ice cave.

Because he spoke those words?

Because of that reason?

Kuroko opened his mouth but found himself speechless.

He clenched his fists so tightly that even his neatly trimmed nails hurt his palms.

Akashi stepped closer.

"This is what you wanted, isn’t it?"

"I just accepted a plan everyone agreed to. And you’ve been happier these days, so what’s wrong with that?"

Kuroko barely recognized the man before him.

He had once been the greatest believer in Akashi’s ideals, but at some point, they had grown farther apart.

"Still... you can’t... do things like this..." Kuroko’s voice grew faint.

He didn’t know what to say; his protests felt powerless.

Akashi was right; this might indeed be the optimal solution to minimize losses.

If Aomine had more patience, if Kuroko hadn’t discovered the truth... maybe they could have happily played on until graduation.

"Philos," Akashi called softly.

Kuroko kept his head down, silent.

They stood like that for a long time, neither speaking.

Kuroko’s mind raced, weighing pros and cons, calculating his limits.

He knew he might have to back down.

After all... who wants to become strangers with their closest friends?

Before he could speak, Akashi’s voice came from across.

"If you don’t like it, then forget it."

Kuroko looked up sharply, but Akashi already turned and walked away, his figure disappearing around the corner.

"Akashi...?"

Akashi was furious, his voice trembling without his realization.

He couldn’t understand why Kuroko felt this way.

Akashi’s only desire was victory; the means and process were irrelevant.

That was why he tolerated Aomine and others’ initial slacking and agreed to Kise’s joking plan.

As long as they won, nothing else mattered.

From the moment Kuroko began to use misdirection to now becoming an assist king, it was all under Akashi’s guidance.

He never imagined this version of himself would nurture someone so gentle as to pity the weak.

Like a saint, seeking so-called "equality" for everyone.

Even though those weak didn’t deserve it.

But Seijuro Akashi would.

Kuroko’s kindness was almost carved from the same mold as Akashi’s, gentle to an infuriating degree.

As long as he followed the team’s rhythm, they would all do their best to win.

Failure was terrifying.

The old Akashi would have collapsed because of it; the present Akashi didn’t think Kuroko could bear it either.

What’s the point of doing all this for the undeserving?

The current Akashi couldn’t understand Kuroko, and Kuroko couldn’t understand this Akashi.

Kuroko stood there, confused.

His wish was simple: he wanted his teammates to have some basic boundaries as athletes.

Just now, he forced himself to accept reality and even made excuses for them internally.

After all, stealing points was just internal competition within Teiko, not outright disrespect for the entire game.

Though he disliked it, after convincing himself, he understood it was the best solution for their poor team condition.

Even if malice and a playful attitude toward the game had emerged inside the team, Kuroko felt he could accept it if he pushed himself.

What baffled him was how easily Akashi abandoned the proposal.

He feared what new schemes those guys might cook up, yet he couldn’t understand Akashi’s stance.

Kuroko felt more and more alienated from Akashi.

It was as if the other person wasn’t the Akashi he once knew.

He walked forward uncontrollably, wanting to catch up.

But at the corner, a figure dashed from the opposite direction, colliding with him and sending him sprawling.

"Ugh!" Kuroko’s head struck the wall, leaving him dazed.

"Sorry, sorry—Kuroko?!" The figure, seeing him clearly, exclaimed with surprise. "It really is you!"

Kuroko, dizzy and disoriented, barely registered the words.

His vision blurred, ears ringing.

"Kuroko?" The stranger panicked, lifting the semi-conscious Kuroko into his arms and sprinting toward the infirmary.

#

In Teiko Middle School’s exclusive lounge, the atmosphere was tense.

Kise paced anxiously by the door.

Momoi, unable to control her emotions, sat in a corner clutching her bag, face buried—perhaps crying.

Atsushi Murasakibara, oblivious, continued eating candy.

Midori stared blankly at his lucky frog figurine.

Aomine, out of sorts, reached for a jar of pickled lemons and was about to eat some.

An irate Kise abruptly snatched the container away. "What do you think you’re doing! Don’t you know—"

Before he could finish, the door opened, and Akashi entered as if nothing had happened.

"Play the afternoon game casually. No need to fight for points anymore. Just play as you please."

Momoi suddenly stood. "Is Philos—"

Before she could finish, a somewhat shrill phone rang in the room.

All eyes turned to Aomine, who pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Ah, it’s A-Kuro," he said, tossing the phone to Momoi.

Flustered, Momoi answered quickly. "Philos! Where are you—"

A strange voice spoke on the other end.

"Oh, is this a girl? Who’s this?"

"Eh? Who are you?" Momoi froze, unfamiliar with the voice.

Her words drew everyone’s attention, and Akashi approached, signaling her to hand over the phone.

"I’m a childhood friend of Kuroko. Sorry, something happened just now. He’s at the gym’s infirmary. I saw you as the top contact, so I called without asking. Hope I’m not disturbing..."

Hearing Kuroko was hurt, Momoi’s mind went blank.

Her legs moved on their own; ignoring Akashi’s hand, she grabbed the phone and rushed out of the lounge.

"Little Momoi? Where are you going?" Kise was stunned but followed.

Akashi looked at his hand, bewildered.

Something seemed to have slipped beyond his control.

On the other end, Narutomo Ogiwara stared at the dropped call, puzzled.

Why was a girl answering?

He turned to the bed where his childhood friend buried herself under the covers.

"O-Kuro, this isn’t good for you," he said, trying to pull her out.

But the unconscious Kuroko couldn’t be roused.

Ogiwara sighed and waited quietly for Kuroko’s teammates to arrive.

Kuroko looked exhausted.

The last time they spoke, Ogiwara sensed something was wrong but was too happy to reunite on the Tokyo court to notice.

Now it was clear—something unpleasant had happened.