Ryokufu Bench.
Fujisawa Eri leaned against her seat, tapping the edge of the tactics board with her fingertip. Her eyes curved with a smug smirk as she said, "Shohoku's nothing special after all. If it were us playing in the national tournament, maybe the champions wouldn't be Shohoku."
Coach Ofune beside her heard that and glanced at Shohoku's players fumbling pass after pass. His throat bobbed slightly, but in the end, he didn't speak up to stop the heiress from showing off.
Fujisawa Eri chuckled coldly, her expression full of disdain. "They can't even run team plays. They're just a mess of scattered sand, all doing their own thing."
"That's true right now," Coach Ofune finally responded.
There wasn't much to argue.
That was exactly Shohoku's situation now.
Still, he didn't say more, though inwardly he muttered, 'This little girl's still too young. Shohoku's only out of sync because they're not used to the environment. Once they settle in, the game might shift. Besides... Shohoku hasn't even played their trump card yet.'
Even though he didn't have much authority as a coach, his eye for skill was solid.
He could tell with one glance—Shohoku's players had real strength.
What could he say?
They really did deserve the title of national champions.
Each player on the court had serious ability.
His gaze fell on Aoi Kunisaku, who sat at Shohoku's bench looking completely uninterested.
He hadn't seen Aoi Kunisaku play before, but something in his gut told him—this boy was dangerously strong.
Shohoku Bench.
Aoi Kunisaku's expression didn't change at all. It was like Shohoku falling behind had nothing to do with him.
But the others on the bench were clearly getting tense.
Watching Shohoku struggle, their hearts were in their throats.
Kogure Kiminobu looked like he couldn't sit still, his whole body shaking. "This is bad. They haven't even shown their real strength yet!"
Ayako was also on edge. But seeing Shimizu Kanon still calm beside her, she forced herself to push down the anxiety rising inside.
She trusted Kanon a lot.
Even if Shohoku fell behind—there was still Aoi Kunisaku.
Thinking that, she finally managed to breathe a little easier.
…
On the Court.
Shohoku had possession.
Miyagi Ryota dribbled low to the ground, his rubber soles squeaking sharply against the hardwood.
He slowed his pace deliberately, calculating like a predator. His gaze locked onto Michael Okita, cold and sharp as ice.
That sharp-edged, mixed-blood face wore a lazy smile. But it made Miyagi think of Fukatsu Kazunari's scalpel-like passes and Maki Shinichi's crushing drive pressure.
He muttered inwardly, 'This guy's nothing compared to the ones we've faced before.'
Sakuragi Hanamichi was waving frantically. "Oi, Miyagi! Pass me the ball! I'll take care of that foreigner!"
Miyagi gave him a sideways glance and grumbled, "What the hell is this guy saying?"
Rukawa Kaede pulled a face and gave Sakuragi a cold stare. "You're not up to it, big dumb idiot."
"What?! You damn fox!" Sakuragi's head whipped around, veins bulging as he yelled furiously.
Rukawa ignored him, his tone flat. "I'll handle that guy."
A flicker of fighting spirit lit up in his eyes.
He still remembered what Anzai Mitsuyoshi had said—that he shouldn't go to America.
And now Michael Okita—was someone who had returned from America.
If he could take this guy down, he'd have a solid reason to make it in America too.
This was his chance. He wasn't going to let it slip.
As for Aoi Kunisaku… that guy wasn't even human. Rukawa wasn't thinking about him yet.
Elsewhere.
Miyagi Ryota scanned the court quickly, then sent the ball to Mitsui Hisashi.
Faced with Katsumi Ichirou's defense, Mitsui's eyes sharpened.
Katsumi closed in tight, getting right in his face. "How much of your old strength do you still have left, senpai?"
Huh?
Mitsui frowned at him, not sure what he meant.
Then Katsumi grinned wide and said smugly, "I'm really strong, y'know! Unlike you, I've spent the last two years training hard!"
"What did you say?!" Mitsui's rage flared instantly, his face flushing dark red. The fierce gleam in his eyes turned cold.
Katsumi didn't back off at all. He smirked and said meaningfully, "Right now, I'm stronger than you, aren't I?"
Mitsui's teeth ground audibly. He stared at Katsumi, speechless for a long moment.
He forced down the fire churning in his chest. His fingers were pale as he clutched the ball. In a low voice, he said, "Then I'll show you who's stronger."
As the words left his mouth, his wrist twisted mid-dribble. His shoulder feinted, found a gap, and his knees bent as he sprang into a shot.
"It won't go in like that." Katsumi Ichirou leapt up to block. Watching Mitsui Hisashi's shot timing, he spoke up.
Mitsui's shot was rushed. His stance wasn't stable at all. No way that was going in.
Katsumi had practiced Three-Point Shots for two years now. He had a gut sense for these things.
The basketball sliced through the air, drawing a wild arc like a bird with clipped wings, diving straight for Ryokufu's basket.
Under everyone's gaze, the ball struck the rim.
Clang…
A sharp sound echoed.
The ball bounced out.
Mitsui's shot missed. His heart tightened. His anger only burned hotter.
"Idiot. That wasn't going in." Aoi Kunisaku muttered as he watched Mitsui.
"Huh?" Ayako turned to him with surprise. "You're actually paying attention? That's rare."
Aoi turned his head aside and said, "I'm just bored."
Ayako smiled faintly, then asked, "Why do you say Mitsui-senpai's shot wouldn't go in? You should cheer him up, not—"
Aoi rolled his eyes hard, snorting through his nose. "Hmph… he's weak. Got rattled by a few words. Anyone like that isn't landing a shot."
"Ugh…" Ayako fell silent. She didn't know how to respond.
The opponent had jabbed at Mitsui's past—the very thing that cut deepest.
Kogure Kiminobu frowned. "So underhanded… using words to attack like that."
…
On the court.
"Ah—!" Sakuragi Hanamichi pushed off hard, grazing the backboard and grabbing the rebound.
He landed, trying to go for a Slam Dunk, but Michael Okita immediately blocked him from behind.
Rukawa Kaede reached out for the ball. Sakuragi glanced at him and smirked.
"I'm never passing to you, Rukawa."
But that moment of distraction was all Katsumi Ichirou needed. He pounced.
Smack—
Sakuragi felt the ball slip from his hand. Katsumi Ichirou had stolen it clean.
"Big idiot." Rukawa charged after Katsumi, trying to take it back.
Sakuragi followed close behind, yelling, "Damn thief! Get back here!"
Just then, another figure ran right in front of Sakuragi.
Startled, he blurted, "This guy—"
It was Tetsuya Totsuka, wearing Ryokufu's number 9 jersey. He smiled faintly and stepped in front of Sakuragi.
He was clearly blocking him on purpose.
Sakuragi felt stuck. He wanted to chase Katsumi Ichirou down but couldn't get past Totsuka.
Katsumi dashed into Shohoku's key.
Akagi Takenori locked onto Katsumi's every move. Arms spread wide, his massive frame radiated pressure like a mountain.
Katsumi grinned. As he reached Akagi, he flicked the ball behind him.
It landed perfectly in Katsumi Ichirou's hands.
Without hesitation, Katsumi Ichirou jumped and took the shot.
"Not happening!" Mitsui rushed in to stop him—but he was a step too late.
Whoosh—
The ball flew just before Mitsui could block it.
It traced a perfect arc, then dropped through the net clean.
Swish—
A Three-Point Shot.
Shohoku 8 to Ryokufu 24.
The next 5 minutes were brutal.
Shohoku fell apart—missed shots, intercepted passes, gaps in defense everywhere.
Ryokufu didn't score every time, but little by little, the lead widened again.
8 to 24.
10 to 28.
14 to 36.
…
The gap had grown over 20 points.
Things weren't looking good for Shohoku.
Just as everyone feared the score would spiral further, Rukawa suddenly exploded.
Smack—
Rukawa intercepted a Ryokufu pass and sprinted toward the basket.
Ryokufu players chased hard, but right before they caught up, Rukawa passed the ball to Akagi.
Akagi caught it. Before Naga Hikari could close in, he jumped up for a Dunk.
Bang—
A deafening slam.
Akagi threw the ball into the rim with raw power.
Shohoku 16 to Ryokufu 36.
"Rukawa Kaede… I love you… Rukawa Kaede… I love you… Rukawa Kaede… I love you…"
That familiar rhythm. That familiar tone. That… unmistakable chant.
Aoi Kunisaku's face darkened as he looked toward the stands.
Sure enough, three girls in cheerleader miniskirts were high-kicking in sync and waving pom-poms, like perpetual-motion machines that never ran out of energy.
"So damn annoying," Aoi Kunisaku muttered inwardly.
He didn't care much about the crowd's cheering or yelling.
But those three girls were like glitches in reality—loud, chaotic, unavoidable.
Shimizu Kanon noticed something off in Aoi. She followed his gaze and spotted the trio of "Rukawa Diehards" bouncing and shrieking in the stands.
She smiled charmingly and said, "They've really got energy, huh!"
"Hmph..." Aoi Kunisaku snorted and looked away, ignoring the trio of cheerleading mascots.
But somehow, their chaotic support seemed to have real power.
After they cheered, Shohoku suddenly picked up momentum. They started striking back hard at Ryokufu.
One steal from Rukawa Kaede wasn't enough. He went again, catching Ebina Kaoru's dribble by surprise and took the ball cleanly.
Rukawa charged for the Fast Break. Michael Okita stepped up to stop him.
Rukawa passed the ball off to Mitsui Hisashi, who'd just caught up from behind.
Katsumi Ichirou tried to close in on Mitsui to stop him from taking a clean Three-Point Shot.
But Mitsui didn't slow down. He took a big step inside Ryokufu's paint and finished with a simple three-step Layup.
The ball dropped through the net.
Shohoku 18 to Ryokufu 36.
With 3 minutes left in the half, Rukawa scored again, cutting the lead to 20 to 36.
Shohoku's sudden rally gave them a small run. They finally steadied the game after falling behind hard.
In the next 3 minutes, both teams went back and forth. It felt like the match had reset to how it started.
When the clock hit the final 40 seconds, the score was 29 to 44. A 15-point gap.
Tweet—
A long, sharp whistle suddenly cut through the intense match.
Everyone stopped moving.
The referee raised his voice: "Ryokufu requests a substitution."
All of Shohoku stared in confusion.
Huh?
Why now?
The half was almost over. What was the point of subbing someone in now?
Even Ryokufu's own players looked confused.
Shohoku's bench.
Ayako frowned. "What are they thinking? Why sub now?"
Kogure Kiminobu shook his head. "You think they've got some kind of plan?"
Shimizu Kanon turned her gaze to the Ryokufu bench, to Fujisawa Eri.
She knew this substitution had to be her call.
So young.
Still hadn't been slapped around by the real world.
Kanon smiled quietly. She didn't think much of the move.
On the Ryokufu bench, a tall, long-haired boy around 175 cm, wearing jersey number 7, stepped onto the court. He replaced the less impressive Ebina Kaoru.
"That's one of the twins. Number 7 is the older brother, Tsurumi Seiji," Akagi Haruko read from her notes.
"Hmph…" Aoi Kunisaku didn't react.
Survival of the fittest. The weak get replaced.
That's just how it works.
That's the rule Aoi had always lived by.
The game resumed.
With Tsurumi Seiji's arrival, Ryokufu's defense tightened up.
Whether by luck or skill, Shohoku's offense suddenly stalled again.
Ryokufu countered fast. The ball ended up with Katsumi Ichirou.
He pulled up against Mitsui Hisashi and launched a shot.
The ball arced just above Mitsui's outstretched hand and sailed clean into the basket.
Another Three-Point Shot.
Shohoku 29 to Ryokufu 47.
There were barely more than 10 seconds left in the half.
"Pass it to me!" Sakuragi Hanamichi didn't wait—he waved at Miyagi Ryota for the ball.
Miyagi knew Sakuragi's level and normally wouldn't pass to him.
But there wasn't much time left, so he hesitated and passed it.
They just had to hold out until halftime.
Then strike back after the break.
That was his plan. And he followed it.
But plans rarely survive reality.
Sakuragi got the ball and charged straight at Ryokufu without thinking.
Miyagi instantly felt a chill. 'That's bad.'
Sure enough, Sakuragi ran straight into Tsurumi Seiji's defense.
Sakuragi tried to push past him, but Tsurumi wasn't like Ebina Kaoru.
His defense was tight, sharp.
Then, with perfect timing, Tsurumi reached in and cleanly stole the ball from Sakuragi.
Smack—
The sound was crisp and sharp.
"Ah—!" Sakuragi yelped. He tried to grab the ball back.
But Tsurumi didn't hesitate. He flicked his wrist and passed the ball straight to Michael Okita.
Rukawa Kaede immediately stepped in close, trying to shut down Michael Okita's advance.
But Michael Okita did a quick crossover and hand switch. He broke past and faked Rukawa out with a pass. Then he casually tossed the ball behind him to Nadaka Hikaru.
A fake?
Rukawa's eyes sharpened. He whipped his head back to look.
Nadaka Hikaru caught the ball and stepped right into Shohoku's paint.
Akagi Takenori's eyes were sharp. He tracked Nadaka's every move with focus.
When Nadaka leapt to dunk, Akagi jumped with him, arms raised high. He gave no room to land a Slam Dunk.
But then—
Nadaka suddenly flicked the ball behind him.
A figure rose up out of nowhere behind him.
What?
Akagi's face changed as he saw the person behind Nadaka clearly.
It was Tsurumi Seiji.
No good.
Akagi felt his stomach sink.
Tsurumi caught the ball and jumped up. He raised it high and released a soft floater toward Shohoku's hoop.
He wasn't tall enough to dunk, not even if he wanted to.
"You're not scoring that!" Sakuragi Hanamichi chased from behind, yelling loudly. But it didn't help.
The ball still dropped cleanly into the hoop.
Swish…
Shohoku 29 to Ryokufu 49.
Tweet—
At that same moment, the referee blew the whistle signaling the end of the first half.
Nobody expected this from a practice match.
Shohoku, the reigning national champions, were trailing Ryokufu by a full 20 points at halftime.
All the Shohoku players stayed silent. No one said a word.
Aoi Kunisaku still looked lazy as ever, showing not even a hint of interest in the score.
Ryokufu's bench.
Fujisawa Eri praised the team, wearing a very satisfied smile. "Shohoku wasn't as impressive as I thought. Everyone did great. Keep it up in the second half. If we beat the champion team, we'll make headlines."
Coach Ofune gave her a sideways glance. He opened his mouth to say something, but swallowed the words.
Even if he spoke, this rich girl wouldn't listen anyway.
Just then, Michael Okita spoke up. "It's probably not gonna be that easy."
The moment he spoke, everyone turned their attention to him.
Fujisawa Eri frowned. "Michael, what do you mean by that?"
She clearly didn't like Michael Okita pouring cold water on the mood, but since he was the team's ace, she held her temper.
Michael said, "If that's all Shohoku's got, there's no way they could've won the national championship."
He looked toward the Shohoku players heading into the locker room. "I don't think the second half is gonna be this easy."
…
Shohoku locker room.
"Those guys piss me off."
"Who would've thought Ryokufu was this strong? They're just as good as a nationals team."
"We've gotta crush them in the second half!"
"Sakuragi, if it weren't for you at the end, we wouldn't have lost that last point!"
"I didn't mean to! Who knew that guy would be so sneaky and pull that off?"
…
As the chaos built up, Shimizu Kanon clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.
The room finally quieted down.
She glanced around at everyone, then said, "You all know why that rich girl picked us for this practice match, right? She wants to use us as a stepping stone. Whether they win or lose, it benefits them either way."
"Damn it, that stuck-up witch… She's looking down on us," Mitsui Hisashi growled through clenched fists, trying to hold back his anger.
Miyagi Ryota's face was dark. "Win or lose, we're just paving the way for them? That's seriously messed up."
Everyone else nodded in agreement.
Shimizu Kanon calmly continued, "Of course, if you don't want to be used like that, there is one way out."
At her words, all eyes turned to her.
Sakuragi Hanamichi blurted out impatiently, "What way?"
Shimizu Kanon smiled and said, "The only way to crush their plan is for Shohoku to win by a massive margin."
Kogure Kiminobu twitched at the mouth. He sighed and said, "But we're already 20 points behind. And they're not weak. There's no way we can win by a blowout."
Shimizu Kanon didn't answer right away. She just smiled and turned her head to look at Aoi Kunisaku, who was still lounging around like nothing mattered.
"Saku-chan, you're going in for the second half. How about it?"
The moment she spoke, everyone lit up and turned to look at Aoi Kunisaku.
"Huh?" Aoi raised an eyebrow, looking a bit reluctant. But thinking of Michael Okita, he said, "Fine. Sitting here is boring anyway. Let's see what that America-trained guy is really made of."