Nango received the ball and prepared to advance, but Tanaka immediately initiated a full-court press, sticking to him like glue.
He couldn't steal the ball, but that wasn't his goal—Tanaka wanted to wear Nango down, both mentally and physically.
"Hey, kid! You're not lasting long in this game!" Tanaka jeered, his mouth running nonstop as he tried to provoke him.
No matter how good-natured Nango was, his patience was starting to wear thin.
Kid? Seriously?
Nango felt his eyebrow twitch. He was clearly older, yet this guy kept calling him "kid."
Still, he didn't respond. Instead, he calmly dribbled past half-court while noticing something irritating—his teammates were standing around, grinning as if they were watching a comedy show.
So that's how it is, huh? You all want to see me get worked up? Fine then… I won't hold back.
Nango lowered his stance, dribbling between his legs while backing up to create space. Then, without warning, he exploded forward, driving hard to Tanaka's left. Tanaka stayed tight, but that was exactly what Nango wanted.
Shielding with his left arm, Nango kept his dribble steady with his right. Just then, Hayato rushed over for a double team.
It was almost identical to the previous play. Nango stopped abruptly, lifted his head, and locked eyes with Hayato.
"You're not getting past me this time!" Hayato grinned confidently.
Nango smiled faintly. His gaze flicked toward the paint, and his right hand lifted slightly as if preparing to pass.
He's passing?
Both Hayato and the red team's center reacted instantly, raising their hands to intercept.
But the pass never came.
Nango dropped his hand, lowered his body, and burst past Hayato's left side. Hayato's own teammate, Tanaka, became a perfect accidental screen.
Hayato spun around, too late. Nango stormed into the lane and rose up—
"BOOM!"
—throwing down a one-handed dunk.
"Hahaha! Those two idiots got tricked again!" Hyuga Yuichi howled from the sidelines, nearly doubled over in laughter.
Hayato and Tanaka both looked ready to tear him apart.
Around them, the other players couldn't help smirking.
A bunch of clowns, someone thought. Losing to a high schooler… embarrassing.
Coach Kawasaki finally sighed and barked out, "Alright, that's enough! You're here to train, not to watch a comedy show!"
"Yes, Coach!"
Everyone straightened up, but their amusement still lingered.
"Okita! What are you standing there for? Move! Or should I come out there and kick you myself?"
"Sakamoto! What are you doing? Want to sit on the bench again?"
After a few sharp scoldings, practice returned to normal.
Even so, Hayato and Tanaka kept trying to challenge Nango—but their chances to shine dwindled quickly.
Nango was a point guard; once he crossed half-court, he distributed the ball and controlled the tempo. On defense, Tanaka wasn't even the focal point of his team's plays, so he rarely saw meaningful touches.
Meanwhile, outside the gym—
"Bang! Bang!"
Mitsui kicked an empty can across the ground, grumbling, "Man, that Nango guy's really lucky. Getting a tryout at Nittaidai… wish it were me."
He couldn't help feeling jealous. Nango was just a first-year with so much time ahead of him, while Mitsui was already a third-year. He didn't have Akagi's brains or Kogure's grades. For him, getting into university depended on his final year at Shohoku.
Sakuragi slumped beside him with a long sigh. "Compared to him, we'll probably end up studying at Gorilla's place…"
But then he thought of seeing Haruko in casual clothes later and immediately brightened up.
Miyagi stretched lazily, hands behind his head. "That guy plays well, studies well, is popular, and has a beautiful girlfriend. The dude's literally a winner in life."
"Damn it!"
Bang!
In frustration, Mitsui's kicked can accidentally struck Akagi's leg.
"YOU IDIOTS!" Akagi roared, glaring down at them. "You've got time to gossip about Nango?! You'd better be studying later!"
Mitsui muttered under his breath, "Tch. Annoying honor student…"
Back in the gym, Nango had already adjusted to his new teammates' playstyles.
The center and power forward were pure blue-collar workers—defensively solid, but limited offensively. They anchored the team's interior well, though.
The shooting guard was a classic runner, constantly weaving through screens to find open shots. If he didn't get a good look, he passed the ball immediately.
The small forward, number 5, was clearly the offensive core—well-rounded, capable of driving, shooting, and passing.
As for the opposing squad, Nango could tell they were mostly bench players. Their plays were disorganized, heavy on isolation, and lacked a clear leader.
So in the next few possessions, Nango took control. He'd advance past half-court, hold at the top of the arc, and read the situation. If the shooting guard couldn't shake free, he'd hand it to number 5 and let him initiate.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk… sharp kid," Hyuga Yuichi commented approvingly. "He figured out Endo's the core and built a simple system already. Coach, let me go in and test him."
Coach Kawasaki glanced at him with mild annoyance. "You guys have no shame, do you? Taking turns bullying a high schooler?"
Hyuga smirked and wagged his finger. "Coach, he's not your average high schooler. How many first-years lead their team to a championship and win MVP? And Hayato and Tanaka couldn't touch him! It's embarrassing for our school. Let me go shut him down."
Coach Kawasaki crossed his arms, thinking it over. He wasn't wrong. If Nango kept dominating, it would reflect poorly on them.
"Fine," he said finally. "Go. Show him what college basketball feels like."
"Alright!" Hyuga grinned, tossing aside his towel. "Tanaka, you're out! Watch how it's done!"
"Tch…" Tanaka clicked his tongue but stepped off the court, clearly irritated—though it was hard to tell whether it was at Hyuga's arrogance or his own poor showing.
Hyuga dribbled toward Nango and grinned. "Come on, kid. Guard me tight. You'll soon understand what despair feels like—because I'm unstoppable."
Nango's expression twitched.
This guy's mouth is just as annoying on the court as off it…
Hyuga handled the ball confidently beyond the arc, then signaled toward the paint. Hayato lumbered over and set a strong screen.
It was a textbook pick. Hyuga used it to explode past the three-point line and pull up mid-motion—
Swish!
The ball sliced cleanly through the net.
"See that? Beautiful, wasn't it?" Hyuga winked smugly before jogging back on defense.
Nango tilted his head and sighed internally.
Yeah… definitely a chatterbox. So damn annoying.
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