Kuroko no Basket: Honored One

"What… is this?!"

Akashi stood frozen on the court.

Even with the Emperor Eye, he couldn't grasp what was happening.

The future he saw had never been wrong. Now, with his soul finally reunited after so many years, he should have been capable of creating even more possibilities.

And yet…

Akashi decided to keep watching, to learn more.

"The sixth ability, huh?"

He received the inbound pass from his teammate and immediately confronted Tendou.

"Unlimited Void—I'll see through it!"

Akashi was convinced that any ability could be unraveled.

It was true—

In basketball, there was no such thing as an absolutely unbeatable ability.

Even someone like Hakeem Olajuwon, praised as having the greatest footwork in NBA history, still had opponents he couldn't overcome.

There may be no invincible abilities, But there are invincible players.

Vmmm—

The moment Akashi neared Tendou, that familiar wave of dread surged over him again.

An overwhelming torrent of information came crashing into his brain, giving him no time or choice.

Left? No good.

Right? No good.

Pass? No good.

Shoot? No good.

Drive…?

Akashi tried to analyze, to find the timing he needed to break through Tendou's defense like before.

But as his Emperor Eye fed information back to his brain, all he got in return were error messages—constant "NO" signals.

Helpless, Akashi kept watching, kept thinking—

Only to be met with endless rejections.

He was caught in a loop.

"What is this?" For the first time, Akashi looked genuinely shaken.

Even with the Emperor Eye, he was facing something he couldn't comprehend.

"Calm down. There has to be a way—some method to defeat Tendou."

His mind raced, but he couldn't break the loop.

It felt like being trapped in a maze with no exit.

And Tendou had no intention of giving him more time.

He struck—his hand darted through the air like a blade, slicing toward the ball.

"Release!"

Smack! Tendou struck back—stealing the ball from Akashi.

"Stop him!" Shirogane Eiji shouted from the sideline.

Hayama Kotaro sprang into action. With his feral instincts, he was the first to sense the danger.

He charged forward at full speed.

But the moment he neared Tendou, his mind suddenly went blank.

Just like Akashi, his face turned dazed as he was slammed by an overload of information.

He, too, fell into the same loop.

His instincts screamed at him to move forward.

But his brain warned him: if he charged in, he'd only get in Akashi's way.

"Even his wild instincts aren't working?"

Midorima noticed Hayama's hesitation.

"It must be that his body and mind aren't aligned. His instincts are pushing him forward, but his brain is throwing up red flags."

It was insane.

Tendou's sixth ability from the Six Eyes… it was simply too overwhelming.

Most players couldn't even get close to him.

"Isn't there any way to break through that information overload?" Kise's throat was dry.

He thought back—if Tendou had used this ability during their match against Kaijō, would he have been utterly crushed?

"There's definitely a way." Aomine narrowed his eyes.

"But the condition would probably be extremely harsh.

At the very least, a one-on-one player stronger than Tendou should be able to break through Unlimited Void."

That was definitely a harsh requirement.

Liangfeng was stunned.

So the condition for shattering Unlimited Void… was to be stronger than Tendou?

He racked his brain, scanning every single character in the entire series—

And he couldn't find anyone who fit that bill.

Maybe that "Nash" guy that Alex once mentioned could do it.

Maybe some of those American prodigies could.

But right now, in this moment—

On Rakuzan's roster— there was no one who could defeat Tendou in a one-on-one.

The background music had changed.

It was a symphony—grand, solemn, epic, and crushing in its pressure.

As Tendou's popularity continued to rise, he now had his own character theme.

Swish!

There was no violent dunk—Tendou finished with a simple, almost ordinary, layup.

But everything he did before that layup was anything but ordinary.

Shirogane Eiji had no choice but to call his second timeout.

...

"What happened, Akashi?"

The moment he stepped off the court, Shirogane asked.

Akashi shook his head, a rare trace of bitterness in his expression.

Then, everyone turned to Hayama Kotaro.

The Lightning Beast still looked visibly shaken.

"I don't know… I just got close to him, and my brain kept telling me not to go further."

Hayama smacked the side of his head in frustration.

"There's no way to break through it?" Shirogane asked again, still unwilling to give up.

"There is a way," Akashi replied, "If your individual ability surpasses Tendou's, you'll be able to keep up with the flow of information."

Everyone fell silent.

Even Akashi couldn't do that—so how could anyone else?

"To surpass him… you'd need to be even more talented than he is."

Alex placed a hand on her protégé's shoulder.

Tendou Kageyoshi—he was a very American kind of player.

Why?

Because of the NBA's influence. That's how players in the U.S. trained and played.

They'd find every possible way to improve themselves.

Then, in games, they'd show off that power—always striving to be the best.

To be the one.

Geniuses played to their individual strength.

Teamwork and tactics? That was for the role players.

The stars fought for draft rankings and greatness.

But in Asia, basketball emphasized structure and teamwork.

It wasn't that they didn't want to rely on star players.

They just didn't have them.

If you could win by simply throwing one player onto the court, wouldn't everyone do that?

But the truth was simple:

Their players just weren't as individually talented.

Asian teams had fantastic tactical systems.

What they lacked was that one player who could step up when everything fell apart and force a breakthrough with pure skill.

Take the 2008 national team—

They could hang with any world-class team for one half. Why?

Because Chairman Yao's stamina couldn't sustain him at full power for the whole game.

Anyway—back to the match.

After the timeout, Rakuzan still didn't have any great solutions.

So far, the only method they'd found to counter Unlimited Void was beating Tendou one-on-one.

Too bad the strongest player in the country was, unfortunately… Tendou himself.

Rakuzan had no choice but to adapt.

Akashi began relying more and more on Mayuzumi Chihiro's skills to help stabilize the game temporarily.

This time, Mayuzumi didn't resist.

He knew that playing this way would turn him into a spent husk by the fourth quarter.

But this time, he chose it willingly.

He scored a few points.

But that was all he could manage.

Without visual misdirection, he was just… ordinary.