Coach Arimoto's voice echoed through the gym, filled with frustration. "What in the world are you guys doing? You all look sloppy out there. Can't you handle a weak team like Toshigawa? I'm really disappointed with your performance. You guys better start focusing before I remove all of you from the A-team. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Coach!" the Yokonan players shouted with pride, their voices booming across the court, echoing off the polished wooden floor.
"Good," Arimoto said firmly. "We are going to pressure them full court. Watch that number four and keep him in check. I want you to guard him out of the game, Eiji."
"Yes, Coach," Eiji replied confidently. "I'll make sure he doesn't even touch the ball for the rest of the game."
"Let's see what they can do without their point guard," Arimoto smirked before turning to another player. "Manabu, start warming up. You're going in."
"Me? But Coach…" Manabu hesitated, caught off guard.
"Ensure that you execute my instructions on the court," Arimoto cut him off. "I want to see a hundred points by the end of this game."
"Yes, Coach," Manabu said quickly, removing his warm-up shirt. He stretched his arms and legs with swift, practiced movements, the muscles in his calves twitching from nerves and anticipation.
"Keep it up, guys! You're doing great!" Nanaho cheered from the sidelines, her voice slightly strained as she clapped.
"Of course we are! We're the best!" Noboru boasted, wiping sweat from his chin, his grin wide and unshaken.
"Yes… I suppose so," Nanaho replied, patting him on the back, her eyes fixed on the court.
"At this rate, we might actually stand a chance," Hayato added, breathing heavily as he leaned down, sweat dripping from his jaw.
"Just play hard until the sound of the whistle," Yukio reminded them, his expression firm as he steadied his breathing, focusing his eyes forward.
"Substitution," the referee announced. Toshigawa's players turned toward the scorer's table, and their eyes widened in shock as they saw who was checking in.
"Huh? Isn't that… Manabu?" Hayato muttered, narrowing his eyes.
"It's that guy from earlier… the one who was kind enough to lead us to the room," Nanaho thought, her expression turning wary.
"Yes… Let's go!" Manabu said under his breath, behind his glasses his eyes burning with purpose as he stepped onto the court. He quickly grabbed the ball and inbounded it to Eiji, who began dribbling up the court.
The sound of rubber against hardwood echoed sharply as Eiji advanced. Hayato shifted, stepping in to challenge him, his shoes squealing against the floor.
Without hesitation, Eiji signaled for a screen from Ryuu.
"Hayato! A screen on your left!" Takahiro shouted, pointing.
"Right! Thanks!" Hayato responded, pivoting sharply, attempting to slip around Ryuu's looming frame. But Eiji's footwork was sharp. He executed a quick crossover to the left, his sneaker sliding with precision as he blew past Hayato.
"Crap! He broke through!" Hayato thought, lunging in vain to recover.
Shino, nearby, stepped in. "I won't let you get to our basket!" he called out, lunging forward to block Eiji's path.
But Eiji, with an effortless smirk, whipped a pass out to the left.
There was Manabu, planted behind the arc.
Without hesitation, Manabu rose for the shot. His form was textbook. Smooth lift, perfect arc, follow-through.
Shino leaped to contest, but he was too late.
Swish!
The ball sliced through the net with a crisp snap.
Above the backboard, the scoreboard flickered.
Yokonan High 5 – Toshigawa Academy 4.
The crowd erupted. The clap of hands, the stomp of feet, and a few whistles from the back row electrified the air.
"Nice shot, Manabu!" someone from the stands shouted.
"Yukio, pass the ball!" Hayato called, racing across half court. But Eiji was already glued to him, his arms extended, eyes sharp.
"Damn! What the hell is this?" Hayato cursed inwardly, bumping into Eiji's chest as he struggled to separate.
The Yokonan defense surged. All five defenders pressed hard. Yukio gritted his teeth, pivoting left and right, eyes scanning frantically.
Sweat dripped from his temple as the referee started counting out loud. One... two...
"Move! Get open!" Yukio barked, but his teammates were swallowed by their defenders.
Five seconds.
"Five-second violation! Yokonan's ball!" the referee declared.
The crowd gasped.
Manabu jogged back into position, weaving around the arc.
"Eiji, I'm open!" he called, raising a hand.
Eiji flicked the ball to him. Shino stepped up immediately.
Manabu caught it, jab-stepped, and pump faked. Shino flew by, biting hard.
With one dribble left, Manabu sidestepped, rose again, and launched the ball.
Swish!
The sound of the net was almost drowned by the cheers.
"That guy… the coach just subbed in… he's a dangerous player," Nanaho thought, her brow furrowed.
"God dammit! He made another one! He's really pissing me off!" Noboru shouted, slamming a fist into his palm.
"Hahaha, that number six is an amateur!" Ryuu laughed, clapping Eiji on the back.
"Let's get back to pressing them!" Manabu yelled.
"That's it, everyone! Keep up the good work!" Arimoto smirked. "She may be a coach, but there's no way a high school girl can strategize as well as me. I have twenty years of coaching experience. My team has some of the best players in the country. They don't stand a chance."
Takahiro tried to reset. He inbounded to Shino, but Manabu leapt in with precision.
Swipe.
"Crap! A steal!" Shino yelled, eyes wide.
Manabu darted forward, passed to Eiji, who delivered a perfect bounce to Ryuu.
Ryuu crashed to the basket.
Layup. Easy. Clean.
The crowd roared again.
Yukio pushed up court, determined to shift momentum.
Dribble, pivot—then a slap.
The ball slipped from his hands.
Eiji snatched it, dashed to the rim, and laid it in again.
"This looks really bad. What are they going to do?" Haruko whispered from Toshigawa's bench, gripping her notebook.
"Catch, Noboru!" Hayato shouted, launching a long pass.
"Okay, I got it!" Noboru reached up, but before he could secure it, Manabu darted in, stealing it right from his grasp.
"Oh no! I messed up!" Noboru realized in shock.
Manabu sprinted down the court with Noboru chasing after him. As Manabu reached the three-point line, he set his feet and went up for a shot.
Time slowed.
Noboru's breath caught as he leapt, eyes narrowed on the ball. "I have to make up for losing the ball! I'll stop this ugly four-eyes bastard!" he thought, lunging from behind.
Contact.
His hand pushed against Manabu's back just as the ball flicked from Manabu's fingers, spinning high into the air. Manabu twisted slightly midair, his eyes tracking the ball—and then, just before landing, he turned and smirked directly at Noboru.
Whistle!
Swish.
"Pushing foul! Black, number ten!" the referee called.
"Damn it! He still made that!" Noboru cursed.
"You can't be serious! That was all ball! Why you—"
"Calm down, Noboru. We'll get it back," Yukio said, grabbing his teammate's arm.
"Tch! As if we can!" Noboru snapped.
Manabu walked to the free-throw line. The gym quieted for a moment.
He exhaled, bent his knees, and released the ball.
Swish!
Above the rim, the scoreboard flickered once more.
Yokonan High 16 – Toshigawa Academy 4.
"A four-point play! Not bad, Manabu!" Kogure shouted from the bench.
"I can't believe he's just a freshman. He's incredibly talented," Kayano murmured.
"Yes, I was lucky enough to scout him," Arimoto replied. "His coach in junior high never used him properly. Now look at him, controlling the game with only a month of training."
Next play. Eiji lobbed it downcourt.
Ryuu caught it, took two steps, and soared.
He slammed the ball down hard, the rim shaking violently as the sound echoed like a thunderclap through the gym. Yukio stepped in too late and caught the full brunt of Ryuu's momentum. The impact sent him sprawling, his back smacking the hardwood with a thud. A sharp jolt of pain shot through his spine as the breath was knocked out of him. For a second, everything blurred—lights swirled above him, and his ears rang.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy, some standing in disbelief, others cheering madly. Even the Yokonan bench players jumped up.
Shino, standing near the arc, froze completely. His jaw dropped open, his entire body stiffening like a statue. His hands trembled as his eyes locked on Yukio, still motionless on the floor.
Takahiro clutched the hem of his jersey with both fists, his breath caught in his throat. "No way... they slammed it on Yukio like that?" he whispered, heart pounding in his chest.
Yukio hit the ground, sliding slightly, his fingers twitching as he tried to regain his focus.
"Take that! All of you are trash! It's time you learned your place!" Ryuu barked, flexing as the crowd erupted.
"Damn that bastard! How dare he humiliate our Captain like that?" Noboru snarled.
Yukio stared at the lights for a second before Takahiro extended a hand.
"Yukio, don't mind him! We're still in this!"
Yukio took the hand and got up, his breath heavy.
"Eighteen to four… This is bad," Haruko whispered.
Nanaho stood at the edge of the court, her fists clenched.
"I can't let the game go on like this. I have to do something," she thought.
"Fukazawa-senpai," Tetsuo called from the bench.
Nanaho turned slightly.
"Yes. I know what I have to do," she replied, her tone calm but firm.
"Timeout! Toshigawa Academy!"