Although they were all one-on-one matches, Anzai Jitsurei had set different rules for each position group.
For the small forwards, he imposed a strict limit:
only three dribbles per possession.
If the ball touched the floor more than three times, it was an immediate violation and a change of possession.
Others might not recognize it, but Nango immediately understood.
This was a classic American one-on-one rule.
By limiting dribbles, the rule significantly reduced the advantage of raw athleticism or physique. It forced players to rely on footwork, timing, reading the defender, and shot creation—the essence of real offensive skill.
In high-level American one-on-one games, such restrictions were often paired with a shot clock—ten seconds, sometimes even shorter—to further increase the difficulty.
Winning under these conditions required mastery of the triple-threat stance.
Anzai Jitsurei added another rule:
If the offensive player scored, the next defender would immediately step in.
Only when the offensive player missed would possession switch.
After several rotations, the player who stayed on the court the longest would be declared the winner.
Nango bounced the ball lightly in his right hand, a faint grin forming at the corner of his mouth.
"So," he said casually, "who's first?"
Rukawa Kaede and Sendo exchanged glances—but neither stepped forward.
It was a shame Sawakita wasn't here. Otherwise, this would have been truly interesting.
Seeing that Sendo had no intention of moving, Fukuda Kicchou strode forward instead.
Nango smiled, lowered his stance, and immediately went on the attack.
Outside the three-point line, his center of gravity dropped sharply. A sequence of shoulder feints and jab steps followed—and the moment Fukuda hesitated, Nango exploded forward.
Three steps.
Layup.
Score.
Fukuda's defense had clearly improved since the Prefectural Tournament, but that was only relative to his past self.
Against Nango now, the gap was still obvious.
Frustration flashed across Fukuda's face, but rules were rules—he could only step aside and wait.
Nango reset at the three-point line.
From the sidelines, Sendo smiled faintly.
"You go first."
This time, Rukawa Kaede stepped onto the court.
As teammates, he knew Nango's tendencies better than anyone. Instead of crowding him, Rukawa deliberately maintained a subtle distance—ready to react to either the drive or the shot.
Nango wasn't bothered in the slightest.
He feinted again—once, twice.
Rukawa didn't bite.
So Nango committed.
First dribble—he gained the angle.
Second dribble—Rukawa stayed glued.
Third dribble—Nango leaned in, used his shoulder to create space—
And pulled up immediately.
"Swish."
A clean jump shot.
Physical limits might exist under American one-on-one rules, but strength and timing still mattered.
Next up was Sendo.
Nango licked his upper lip.
His body was fully warmed up now. His focus sharpened. Compared to unrestricted one-on-one, this kind of controlled duel was far more stimulating.
Facing Sendo, Nango entered triple-threat, jabbed—
Then suddenly accelerated.
Sendo reacted instantly—but Nango's lead foot abruptly stopped.
In the next instant, Nango shifted backward, using Sendo's forward momentum against him.
Step-back.
Sendo's heart sank.
The ball left Nango's fingertips at its highest point.
Another make.
He had swept all three opponents in the first rotation.
But this was only the beginning.
Nango continued scoring—again and again—rotating through them without pause.
Frustration boiled over.
"Fukuda! Let me!"
Even the usually laid-back Sendo raised his voice, completely ignoring order.
"Move aside!" Rukawa snapped. "I'm next."
Fukuda, silently ignored by both, stepped forward without a word and planted himself firmly in front of Nango.
On the sidelines, Anzai Jitsurei smiled faintly.
Nango's fundamentals are more than sufficient for the small forward position.
Sendoh and Rukawa are also strong… but Fukuda is still lacking.
He picked up his pen and placed a small cross beside Fukuda Kicchou's name.
Then his attention shifted to the power forward group.
The rules here were similar—but with a key difference.
All offensive possessions had to start from either
the free-throw line or the 45-degree mid-range wing.
Sakuragi Hanamichi frowned the moment he received the ball.
He hadn't trained the triple-threat stance seriously. Aside from a basic jab step, his options were limited.
After one jab, he saw an opening and immediately put the ball on the floor.
Tsuchiya Atsushi, defending him, maintained perfect spacing—arms active, feet light.
One dribble.
Two dribbles.
Three dribbles.
Sakuragi still couldn't shake him.
Forced to shoot, Sakuragi rose.
"Thwack!"
Tsuchiya didn't block it—but the interference was perfect.
Miss.
Possession switched.
Sakuragi clenched his teeth.
Defense is fine… I can stop him.
But this time, Tsuchiya didn't have to consider teammates.
This was his territory.
From triple-threat, Tsuchiya drove decisively—one dribble, spun cleanly off Sakuragi's hip, and finished with a smooth layup.
Only two dribbles.
Efficient. Controlled. Clean.
Sakuragi walked off reluctantly.
Among the power forwards, Tsuchiya Atsushi quickly distinguished himself.
Not because he scored nonstop—but because his offense was refined and his defense reliable.
Others had obvious weaknesses.
Sakuragi and Nobe defended well, but their offensive tools were crude, relying too heavily on instinct.
Jin's shooting was lethal, but under physical pressure his accuracy dropped—and his defense couldn't compensate.
Sugadaira, meanwhile, lacked strengths across the board.
Naturally, Tsuchiya stayed on the court the longest.
Anzai Jitsurei placed a checkmark beside Tsuchiya Atsushi's name—and a cross next to Sugadaira.
Tsuchiya's skill set is too complete, he thought.
These rules favor him. Next time, I'll push the starting position deeper and test post play.
As the drills continued, Nittaidai's university players began filing into the gym.
Led by captain Hyuga Yuichi, they stopped to watch, whispering predictions and guesses about the winners.
Their voices reached the court.
The Youth Team players heard them.
And instantly—
The intensity rose another level.
The one-on-one battles grew fiercer by the second.