Akashi's POV

The moment Midorima broke free from Kagami, Imayoshi swooped in to cut off Akashi's access to the Shooting Guard. Kagami charged them before Imayoshi danced away again to cover Johnson.

Akashi, however, had his own troubles. The indolent blue eyes of Aomine were relaxed and heavy-lidded. He's learned so much, Akashi thought as he focused all of his concentration on the worst possible match-up.

If I was in perfect condition, this would be hard enough. Akashi's eyes took in the whole court in a split second before he took a deep breath and allowed his 'Golden Side' to take over.

Aomine noticed the change in posture immediately and took a step back, shaking out his arms and matching his respiration rate with his opponent. It wasn't something he did intentionally, but the animal part of his brain acknowledged Akashi both as his equal and perhaps his better.

"You've grown, Daiki, I'll concede that, but so have I."

The Power Forward saw the movement Akashi made to his left a split second after he realized it was a fake. He jigged backward to counter, but was already too late and the hesitation costs him dearly. Aomine's right foot hit the court hard and as he tried to find traction to pivot, he found none. Too slow, Daiki.

Akashi, seeing that Midorima was dealing with his own one-on-one battle, passed to Calvin who barely had his fingertips on the ball before Murasakibara brought his full energy into blocking his fellow Center from taking the shot. Calvin pushed the ball back to Akashi as Floyd provided a screen for Midorima, allowing him a few precious seconds to break free and go into his shooting stance. As he jumped, Kagami matched him. Akashi diverted the ball toward Calvin and Kagami tried to get between the ball and the hoop again, Midorima dropped down and waited for the next opportunity.

Hold on, Shintaro, Akashi thought. I'll bring it right to you. The pass sailed through the air and spiraled right into the waiting hands. Midorima launched the ball with such a whisper of quiet strength, that for a moment, Kagami wasn't sure he'd touched it at all.

The ball arced across the court, but unlike the shots he'd accomplished with Takao in high school, this one caught the rim and spun around the metal, singing, before falling through the net with a caress.

"Two more," Akashi called as Imayoshi took the ball out of bounds. He studied the tableau, his teammates in a stalemate with their equally determined rivals marking them close. Kagami waited, just inside the line for the ball and as he received the pass, Kagami brought the ball down the court slowly.

Midorima spread the long expanse of his arms cutting off Kagami's options.

"I'm glad you're back," Kagami said as he dribbled the ball off to his right-hand side. Murasakibara was back at their own basket, guarding it, leaving Aomine double-teamed for the moment. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Baka, of course we're back. We just needed to teach them a humbling lesson." As they both moved together to Kagami's left, Midorima kept on Kagami without letting up. Midorima saw the moisture dripping off Kagami's brow and blinked away the salt from his own eyes. As they moved up court, Midorima stepped directly into a puddle of sweat, his heal sliding and he tumbled sideways, bowling under Kagami's legs and knocking the ball lose. As they fell in a heap, the ball rolled out of bounds and the whistle blew.

"USA's ball," the referee called.

Kagami chuckled as they untangled and held out his hand left hand to help Midorima to his feet. The Shooting Guard huffed, but lifted his hand for the assistance and used his right hand to push up from the floor. As he did, pain radiated from the tip of his middle finger down his palm and through his wrist. Everyone in the immediate area heard the hissing sound he made.

"Do I need to sub you out?" Akashi asked, coming around Midorima's side as he went out of bounds to throw the ball in again. "We don't have time for an injury."

Midorima looked down at his crocked right middle finger and surrounded it with his left fist. He bit his lip and twisted until the joint cracked back into place. He flexed his fingers and took up a readied stance.

Akashi threw to Midorima, who sent the ball rocketing toward the basket before anyone could react, earning three more points. "I'm fine," he said, gritting his teeth. "Don't doubt me."

"Four more points," Akashi said, as Team USA regrouped in the center of the floor.

"They'll expect you to continue to go to me," Midorima said.

"Then can't disappoint them. Be prepared to break out your new weapon."

Midorima POV

"You can't be serious," I say, dismissing the idea immediately. "I've never used that anywhere but in practice. It's not ready."

"Those children believed in you, Shintarō. How can I do anything less?"

"I can't take a shot I don't believe in," I insist.

"You'll know if the time is right. I'll leave it to you."

The pain throbs in my hand, despite my amateur triage. Kazu will give me 'that look' when he sees the swelling later, but I can't think about that now. I glance up at the stands and see him on his feet, Akira in his arms. The crowd behind them is also on their feet. Over the years of playing for the Knicks, I've trained to ignore the endless noise of the fans, but suddenly the Olympic fan's cheers rush in and I'm not sure if I'm being encouraged or booed.

I banish the distraction to another portion of my brain. There are forty-five seconds left and Aomine has possession of the ball. Unless a meteor falls from the sky and takes him out, there is nothing I can do to keep him from scoring, but I will keep Kagami from coordinating with him.

"A single loss won't hurt your gold medal chances," Kagami says, trying to comfort me, I think.

"Nor yours," I counter.

"You have thirty seconds to make four points…" he says watching Akashi thwart Aomine one more time. "I know you are capable of making six points in that amount of time, but you're hurt and I'm the one guarding you. You won't get off that –"

I fake right, then surge left, drawing Kagami away from Akashi and his pass to Johnson, who uses his soft hands to take a three-pointer from the other side of the court. It's not as elegant as my shot, but it does the same amount of damage to the deficit.

Kagami laughs, his smile splitting his face. He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at his feet as the laughter continues to roll through him. "My bad," he says in English. "We've been playing against each other for so long," he switches back to Japanese, "that I forget we aren't playing two-on-two. I feel like we're back on the street near our homes, just playing for fun."

I can't answer him, I can hardly breathe as I watch Imayoshi bring the ball in again. My internal clock feels like it's running faster that the shot clock. There's no way that Imayoshi hasn't run it out, but as I spare a flash of my eyes toward the scoreboard, I see he's got plenty of time, even if we have none.

Calvin intercepts the pass to Murasakibara and as the angry giant pursues him down the court, I hang back at our own basket to protect against another turnover. I can easily score from here, but Kagami hangs in behind me, forcing me to turn away from my goal. He's as solid as a brick wall so I don't see it, but Akashi has the ball. He flies sideways as Aomine swoops in and he bumps the ball toward with his elbow. The ball lands in my hands, but I am facing the wrong way.

"TAKE THE SHOT!" Kazu's voice pierces through the protective screen I've built in my head, he's the one distraction I've never learned to truly tune out and he is only one person I trust in all the world to tell me what to do in any situation. I look down and see that my feet are exactly on the free throw line facing our own basket and that I couldn't have lined myself up better if I had tried.

"Five," I hear Akashi's voice give me the countdown time.

I drop my hands and in the same motion, I rotate my left palm up. I look up at Kagami as confusion spreads across his dark features. "Man proposes, God disposes," I say and take the shot.