Nango wanted to defeat Kainan. His thoughts were simple—he didn't care about bravado, he just wanted to win.
All his words earlier had only been to provoke Maki, to lock him into a personal battle.
Even though Nango had improved in speed and agility, there was still a noticeable gap between him and top-tier perimeter players like Maki. Against Maki's fluid changes of pace and direction, it was inevitable that flaws would appear.
Facing such a strong, physically gifted opponent, it was difficult for Nango to truly contain him.
But how much stamina did Maki still have?
Nango didn't know for sure. He just knew that no one was a perpetual motion machine—not even Kainan's captain.
And Maki had one fatal flaw: his long-range shooting.
Nango wasn't entirely certain of his accuracy, but if Maki really had a reliable three-pointer, he would've used it long ago. Instead, Maki always chose to break through with brute force.
For example—on this play. Nango wasn't even guarding beyond the arc. Rukawa Kaede had been sealed off by Takasago, and Maki had space to pull up for three. But instead of shooting, he suddenly accelerated and drove straight at Nango.
Maki understood one thing: if he didn't deal with Nango, the latter would never allow him to challenge Akagi.
Then fine—he'd take him head-on!
With explosive speed, Maki leaned hard against Nango and slashed into the paint like lightning. Just like Rukawa earlier, he stopped abruptly mid-motion before restarting. But unlike Kiyota, Nango wasn't shaken off; he stayed with him stride for stride.
"Oh? He kept up with that?" Maki's eyes flickered with a trace of surprise. But he wasn't rattled. Even if he had no space left to sprint, he had more than one way to score.
Nango held his ground firmly, refusing to allow Maki into the paint. If Maki got past him, Akagi would be forced to help, and another foul would be disastrous.
But Maki never intended to go all the way inside. With a sharp reverse pivot, he rose smoothly into a fadeaway.
Nango jumped with him, but his contest wasn't enough.
Swish! The ball dropped through cleanly.
The lead stayed at six points.
"Everything below the free-throw line is Maki's territory," Nango admitted to himself. "I was too focused on the paint and wasn't ready for his jumper. Next time, my footwork needs to be sharper."
All of his focus was now locked onto defending Maki. On offense, he could breathe easier—because Rukawa Kaede was carrying that burden.
With the ball back in Rukawa's hands, his demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes gleamed like a drawn blade, sharp and unyielding.
Across from him, Kiyota felt a chill run down his spine.
Damn it… He's found his rhythm! I can't stop him!
The very next moment, Rukawa moved.
No jab step this time. He simply gave a quick fake and pulled up for the jumper.
Why bother driving inside? His hand was blazing hot.
"Swish!" Another clean basket.
Rukawa's consecutive makes kept Shohoku firmly within striking distance. That steadied Nango's heart—just a few more possessions, and he believed he could crack Maki's armor.
On the sideline, Coach Kōzō (Kainan's coach) sighed heavily.
"Kiyota's already giving everything he has. His athleticism is top-notch, but his height… it's still a disadvantage."
Compared to Muto, Kiyota's effort wasn't bad at all. He had already pushed himself, so Kōzō didn't have the heart to scold him.
But he was racking his brain trying to solve the Rukawa problem.
Switch defenders? The only real option was Maki—but he was needed to shadow Nango.
Send in Muto? No—Rukawa would dominate the paint.
Kosuke? His defense wasn't even on Sendo's level.
Looking down the bench, Coach Kōzō felt the weight pressing down. His cards were nearly all played. But surrender was not an option.
Sixteen consecutive championships. If Kainan failed this year, the school board would be relentless.
I can't give up. There has to be a way. Just give me more time—I'll find it.
While he agonized, the game marched on.
Maki dribbled calmly, scanning the floor. He was ready to attack himself, but then he saw Kosuke calling actively for the ball. Mitsui was defending him.
"This might be a chance."
After a moment's thought, Maki swung it over. Kosuke, it's on you now.
Kosuke immediately drove hard along the baseline. He knew Mitsui's stamina was questionable and aimed to exploit it.
But things didn't go as planned. Mitsui gritted his teeth, controlled his steps, and shadowed him tightly, refusing to yield.
Both Kosuke and Maki had underestimated him. Mitsui Hisashi of Tomigaoka Junior High wasn't just a shooter.
The two tumbled into the restricted area. Akagi abandoned Takasago and slid over, double-teaming with Mitsui and cutting off Kosuke's dribble.
Akagi's presence loomed like a wall. Kosuke didn't dare shoot. He looked desperately for Takasago, who was unguarded—but Akagi's footwork was sharp, sealing off the passing lane.
"Kosuke, over here!" Kiyota rushed in as an outlet.
Kosuke twisted, finally finding a narrow gap to pass. Kiyota immediately lobbed it inside to Takasago, who finished with a quick layup.
Messy, but two points all the same. Kainan's lead held.
Shohoku had the ball again.
Nango was ready to dish it to Rukawa when Sakuragi barked, "Nango! You're passing to Rukawa again?! You're too biased! Pass to me already!"
Akagi muttered with exasperation, "Big idiot… can't you read the room?"
Rukawa just rolled his eyes.
Nango only smiled and still passed to Rukawa. That was the point guard's job: find the best option.
For years, everyone had watched Maki run the floor with such control. But now, the tables had turned.
Sakuragi fumed, watching Rukawa receive it again. "Damn it! I'll steal it myself next time!"
All eyes turned to Rukawa, waiting to see what he'd do.
He took a glance at Takasago and Kosuke, then fixed his gaze squarely on Kiyota.
No—his focus wasn't on Kiyota anymore. He was reading Kainan's entire defense.
In other words… Kiyota could no longer stop him.
Rukawa pounded the ball with his right hand, then lunged forward with a long right step. Kiyota scrambled to follow.
But Rukawa abruptly stopped, crossed over, pulled the ball back, and rose into another jumper.
"Too cool, Rukawa-senpai! Go for it!" Shohoku's first-year fan club roared from the stands, their red jerseys fluttering.
The ball arced high—
Swish! Right through.
"Beep!" The whistle shrilled.
Kainan had called for a timeout.
Rukawa's scorching streak had forced Coach Kōzō's hand. He had to cool the boy down—and give Maki a moment to breathe.
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