Dirga's heart ticked once, hard.
Not fear.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
He'd seen tempo.
He'd read pressure.
But this?
This was counter-composition.
And it was winning.
…
Inbound.
Dirga took the ball up top.
Called horns.
Aizawa and Taiga lifted—shoulders tight.
Rikuya settled low post.
Kaito still off.
No chaos.
No panic.
Just system.
But something was… crooked.
Taiga's screen came a half-beat early.
Aizawa's cut—too shallow, angle wrong.
The motion was drifting.
Why?
Godframe showed it.
Not an error.
A shift.
Ryōta didn't hedge.
Didn't bump.
He just hovered—
A half-step too high, a half-second too still.
Just enough to pull Taiga out of sync,
Which dragged Sho into the wrong lane,
Which forced Dirga to pivot blind—
That was the trap.