Hayama Kazuto dribbled carefully, searching for an opening, while in the paint, Morishige Hiroshi and Nango wrestled for position.
Just like with Sakuragi earlier, Fatty backed into Nango, shoving him backward inch by inch, bulldozing his way toward the rim.
It was a crude tactic—but brutally effective—and Nango was slowly being pushed back.
Sakuragi watched closely, determined to learn… and became completely confused.
Isn't this exactly what happened to me? Was Nango just bragging earlier?!
From the outside, Nango didn't look any different from Sakuragi—sideways stance, left hand on Morishige's back, center of gravity low. It didn't look like he could stop him at all.
But Sakuragi failed to notice the key detail—while defending, Nango's eyes weren't on Morishige.
They were tracking Hayama's hands.
Morishige felt he had sealed a perfect position. He raised his right hand to receive the ball, his left arm spreading wide to block Nango off.
The moment Hayama cradled the ball with both hands and prepared to throw, Nango moved—he instantly released contact and stepped aside. Without support, Fatty's balance collapsed, and he staggered backward two full steps.
Nango darted forward, intercepting the ball.
It was a clean defensive win, but Sakuragi only stared blankly for a moment before sprinting off toward the frontcourt. By the time Nango secured possession, Sakuragi had already crossed the three-point line.
Kawashima Naoto reacted fast, spreading his arms and cutting Nango off, preventing him from passing ahead.
Nango was forced to dribble forward. But by the time he beat Kawashima, the fastbreak window had closed.
They would have to play half-court offense.
When Nango dribbled to the three-point line, Kawashima was still just crossing half-court—meaning Shohoku had a temporary 5-on-4 advantage. Best of all, Nango was unguarded.
Horiuchida immediately rotated over. Nango drew him toward the free-throw area and kicked the ball to Rukawa. The fox adjusted, then rose for a three.
Clank!
Too long on the bench—his rhythm wasn't there yet. He still needed time to regain his touch.
The rebound bounced high. Sakuragi and Morishige both jumped, each in prime position. Sakuragi's explosive jump gave him the first touch on the ball—but before he could follow through, Morishige shoved him mid-air, sending him flying and securing the rebound effortlessly.
Damn it, big fatty!
Being pushed aside again lit a fire in Sakuragi. He was ready to storm back in and fight—
—but Nango waved him off.
"Go out."
"Sakuragi! Let me do it! I already learned that move!" Sakuragi insisted anxiously.
Nango shook his head. "That one move alone isn't enough. Let me handle him for a few more possessions. Just watch."
Many players had tried the "chair pull" move against Fatty before. But they weren't strong enough or tall enough to make it effective.
Nango, however, had the strength, the agility, and the timing—so he could actually use it.
But it was still only a trick, not a solution.
And if Sakuragi tried it, it probably wouldn't work.
What Nango didn't realize… was that Sakuragi had no intention of copying him.
Nango's willingness to take on Morishige was sincere, which left Sakuragi little room to protest—so he watched quietly as Nango faced Morishige again.
Morishige responded immediately. This time, he corrected his footwork—reducing his pushing power, but increasing his balance. That was enough for Nango to interfere more effectively.
Hayama adjusted too, determined to only pass when Morishige was fully set.
But the moment he thought that—
Nango slid to Morishige's side, killing the passing angle.
Hayama hesitated and pulled the ball back.
Nango instantly returned behind Morishige, denying the lob.
Seeing Hayama stop, Miyagi attacked him, making the passing angle even worse.
Forced, Hayama passed to Hanaoka, who quickly swung it to Kawashima, setting up a high-low entry.
This time, the distance was too short—Nango couldn't prevent the entry pass.
Morishige caught it, turned, and once again drilled an unstoppable jump hook.
Nango placed his hands on his hips and exhaled. Then he turned to Sakuragi and said:
"Alright, the rest is yours."
Sakuragi stared, baffled.
"But… didn't you just fail to stop him?"
Nango shrugged. "If he gets the ball, there's nothing we can do. The goal is to stop him from receiving it. Front him sometimes, chair pull sometimes—that's enough. He's all yours. I'll take care of the perimeter."
Sakuragi finally snapped.
"No! That's not a proper way to beat him!"
"…"
Nango was speechless.
"Sakuragi, you can't wear him down. You can't stop him from getting the ball. If you insist on doing this alone, I really can't help you."
Even though Morishige was a monster, there were many ways to beat him.
Going head-to-head was the worst one.
But Sakuragi—being Sakuragi—chose the hardest path anyway.
After a long pause, he muttered:
"I'll handle it myself."
Nango sighed as he watched him walk away.
"What an idiot…"
But he understood.
Youth meant stubbornness.
Conviction.
Pride.
Someday, Sakuragi would change.
But not today.
The game resumed. With Sakuragi refusing to yield, Nango prepared for the worst—completely abandoning the paint and breaking Meihou open from the perimeter instead.
Miyagi brought the ball up. This time, Nango didn't wait for a pass—he met Miyagi directly, took the handoff, and exploded left, while Miyagi shifted to the middle.
Kawashima and Hayama both jumped to double Nango. Horiuchida left Rukawa and joined, making it three defenders collapsing on him.
Nango rose and fired a pass to Miyagi at the free-throw line.
Miyagi caught it, adjusted, and shot without hesitation.
Swish!
Pure.
Even with Akagi off the floor, neither side could open the gap. The score remained separated by a single point.
Both teams hated that result.
And so—the battle only grew fiercer.
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