Coach Arimoto's voice boomed across the gym, rattling against the polished floor and the walls of the bleachers. His arms were crossed tightly, eyes blazing with irritation.
"What in the world are you doing out there?!" he barked, his tone sharp and cutting. "You all look sloppy! Don't tell me you can't even handle a weak team like Toshigawa!"
The players flinched under his glare, sweat dripping down their temples.
"I'm beyond disappointed with this performance," Arimoto continued, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. If you don't start focusing right now, I'll strip every single one of you from the A-team. Do I make myself clear?
"Yes, Coach!" the Yokonan players shouted together. Their voices carried across the gym, bouncing off the polished floor and the high ceiling.
Arimoto gave a firm nod, his arms still folded. "Good. We're pressing them full court. Watch that number four—he's their point guard." He turned his head toward Eiji. "I want you to keep him out of the game."
"Yes, Coach," Eiji replied. His voice was steady, and his eyes narrowed with confidence. "I'll make sure he doesn't even touch the ball for the rest of the game."
Arimoto's mouth curved slightly as he shifted his gaze down the bench. "Let's see what they can do without their point guard. Manabu, start warming up. You're going in."
Manabu's hands froze on his knees. He blinked and pushed his glasses up nervously. "M–me? But, Coach…" His voice wavered, caught between surprise and hesitation.
"Make sure you carry out my instructions on the court," Arimoto cut him off, his voice firm and uncompromising. "I expect nothing less than a hundred points before this game ends."
"Yes, Coach!" Manabu responded quickly, his voice louder than before, as if trying to steady himself. He pulled off his warm-up shirt in one swift motion, tossing it aside. His arms and legs moved through practiced stretches, shoulders rolling as his breath came sharper. His calves tensed with each step, a faint tremble betraying the nerves he was trying to suppress.
"Keep it up, everyone! You're doing great out there!" Nanaho called from the bench. She turned toward her team as they sat with water bottles in hand, her palms clapping together even though her voice carried a faint strain.
"Hah! Of course we are! We're the best!" Noboru declared, running the back of his hand across his chin to wipe away the sweat. His wide grin didn't falter for a second.
"Y-yes… I suppose so," Nanaho replied, placing a hand lightly on his back. Her eyes stayed fixed on the court, unblinking.
"At this rate… we might actually have a chance," Hayato said, his voice rough from heavy breathing. He bent forward slightly, hands resting on his knees, sweat running down his jaw.
"Keep playing hard until the whistle blows," Yukio said firmly, exhaling sharply as he straightened his posture. His eyes stayed locked on the court, unflinching, and his breathing gradually evened out.
"Substitution," the referee called. Toshigawa's players immediately turned toward the scorer's table. Their eyes went wide, and a few of them blinked rapidly as they took in who was stepping onto the court.
"Huh? Isn't that… Manabu?" Hayato muttered, narrowing his eyes and leaning slightly forward, tension tightening his shoulders.
It's that guy from earlier… the one who led us to the room, Nanaho thought, her eyes narrowing slightly and her posture stiffening. A flicker of wariness crossed her face.
"Yes… let's go," Manabu muttered under his breath. Behind his glasses, his eyes glinted with focused determination. He stepped onto the court, moving with quiet precision, grabbed the ball, and inbounded it to Eiji. Eiji caught it cleanly and began dribbling up the court.
The sound of rubber scraping against hardwood rang sharply as Eiji pushed forward. Hayato adjusted his stance, pivoting quickly to block him, the squeal of his shoes cutting through the gym.
Eiji didn't hesitate. He raised a hand and signaled for a screen from Ryuu.
"Hayato! Screen on your left!" Takahiro yelled, pointing toward Ryuu as he braced himself.
"Right! Thanks!" Hayato shouted, pivoting sharply as he tried to slip around Ryuu's frame.
Eiji's footwork was precise. He crossed over quickly to the left, his sneaker scraping against the hardwood, and shot past Hayato before he could react.
Crap… he broke through! Hayato thought, lunging forward, but his hands swiped through empty air as Eiji surged ahead.
Shino, close by, stepped forward quickly. "I won't let you reach our basket!" he called, his voice tight as he lunged to cut off Eiji's path.
Eiji smirked, calm and composed, and flicked a quick pass to the left.
Manabu was already there, planted just beyond the three-point line, ready.
Without a second thought, Manabu rose for the shot. His stance was solid, movements precise—arms extending cleanly, follow-through sharp and controlled.
Shino jumped to contest, stretching as far as he could—but he was too late.
Swish!
The ball passed through the net with a clean, crisp sound, ringing across the gym.
Above the backboard, the scoreboard flickered:
Yokonan High 5 – Toshigawa Academy 4
The crowd erupted. Hands clapped, feet stomped, and a few whistles pierced the air from the back row, filling the gym with energy.
"Nice shot, Manabu!" someone shouted from the stands, voice carrying over the noise.
"Yukio, pass the ball!" Hayato yelled, sprinting across half court. Eiji was already on him, arms outstretched, eyes locked and focused.
Damn! What the hell is this? Hayato thought, colliding with Eiji's chest as he struggled to break free.
The Yokonan defense pressed in tight. All five defenders moved as one, forcing Yukio to pivot rapidly, eyes scanning desperately as he searched for an opening.
Sweat slid down Yukio's temple as he pivoted, eyes darting between his teammates. "Move! Get open!" he shouted, waving frantically, but each of them was locked tightly by their defenders.
Three… four… five.
The referee's whistle blew sharply, cutting through the gym.
"Five-second violation! Yokonan's ball!" the referee announced, gesturing toward the other team.
The crowd gasped, a ripple of shock running through the stands.
As soon as Eiji received the inbound, Ryuu moved into position, setting a screen for Manabu.
Manabu jogged back into place, weaving carefully around the three-point arc, eyes scanning for an opening.
"Eiji, I'm open!" he called, raising a hand confidently.
Eiji flicked the ball to him in a quick, precise pass. Shino immediately stepped up, arms outstretched, ready to contest.
Manabu caught the ball, jab-stepped once, and pump-faked. Shino lunged past him, committing fully to the block.
With one dribble remaining, Manabu shifted slightly, planted his feet, and flicked his wrist, sending the ball toward the hoop.
Swish!
The net snapped crisply, though the sound was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd.
That… that guy the coach just subbed in… he's dangerous, Nanaho thought, her brow furrowing as she watched the court.
"God dammit! He made another one! He's really pissing me off!" Noboru shouted, slamming his fist into his palm, his face red with frustration.
Ryuu laughed, clapping Eiji hard on the back. "Hahaha! That number six is an amateur!"
"Let's get back to pressing them!" Manabu yelled, motioning sharply to his teammates as he tightened his stance.
"That's it, everyone! Keep up the good work!" Arimoto called, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
She may be a coach, but there's no way a high school girl can out-strategize me, he thought, scanning the court. I've got twenty years of coaching experience. My team has some of the best players in the country. They don't stand a chance.
Takahiro moved to reset, throwing the inbound pass to Shino. But Manabu, already crouched low in a defensive stance, sprang forward with precision.
Swipe.
"Ah! A steal…" Shino exclaimed, eyes widening as he stumbled back, startled and flustered, barely able to react.
Manabu darted forward, dribbling near the three-point line. Takahiro stepped up quickly to guard him.
Yukio and Noboru sprinted back toward defense, but they were too far behind to make a difference.
Manabu passed to Eiji. Hayato lunged forward to guard him, sweat soaking through his headband.
Eiji faked left in a sharp, controlled motion, then bounced a perfect pass to Ryuu.
Ryuu drove straight to the basket, jumped, and stretched his hand toward the rim.
Layup. Clean. Precise.
The crowd erupted, voices and footsteps filling the gym in a deafening roar.
On the next possession, Yukio pushed up the court, determination etched on his face.
Manabu and Eiji stepped forward in unison, closing in to double-team him at the half-court line.
Yukio dribbled and pivoted, trying to shake them off—then a sharp slap.
The ball slipped from his hands.
Eiji grabbed it instantly, sprinted toward the rim, and laid it in with a clean motion. The ball hit the backboard and dropped neatly through the net.
This looks really bad… What are they going to do? At this rate, they'll— Haruko's thoughts trailed off as she sat on Toshigawa's bench. She gripped the edge tightly, knuckles pressing into the wood, and glanced at Tetsuo, who sat not far from her. His expression was calm, but the slight tension in his shoulders told her he was itching to get onto the court.
"Catch, Noboru!" Hayato shouted, sending a long pass down the court.
"Okay, I got it!" Noboru reached up, fingers stretching toward the ball—but before he could secure it, Manabu darted in, snatching it cleanly from his grasp.
"Oh no… I messed up!" Noboru gasped, eyes widening in shock as he stumbled back.
Manabu sprinted down the court, dribbling the ball as Noboru chased close behind. Reaching the three-point line, Manabu planted his feet and leapt into the air for the shot.
Time seemed to stretch.
Noboru's breath caught as he jumped, eyes locked on the ball. I have to make up for losing the ball! I'll stop this… ugly four-eyes bastard! he thought, lunging from behind.
Contact. His hand brushed against Manabu's as he tried to block the shot.
Noboru's hand pressed against Manabu's back just as the ball left his fingers, spinning high into the air. Manabu twisted slightly midair, eyes tracking the ball—and just before landing, he turned and smirked directly at Noboru. His glasses caught the glare of the overhead lights, reflecting a sharp glint.
The referee's whistle blew sharply.
The ball dropped cleanly through the net with a crisp swish.
"Pushing foul! Black, number ten!" the referee called, pointing toward Noboru.
"Damn it… he still made that!" Noboru muttered, jaw tightening as he scowled.
"You can't be serious! That was all ball! Why you—"
"Calm down, Noboru. We'll get it back," Yukio said, gripping his teammate's arm firmly, eyes focused forward.
"Tch… as if we can!" Noboru snapped, jerking his arm free, frustration flashing across his face.
Manabu walked to the free-throw line. Both Toshigawa and Yokonan players lined up along the lane, ready to jump for the rebound. The gym quieted, tension hanging in the air.
He exhaled, bouncing the ball twice, then bent his knees and flicked his wrist. The ball spun smoothly through the air, and he held his follow-through, eyes locked on the rim.
Swish! The net snapped sharply back.
Above the rim, the scoreboard flickered:
Yokonan High 16 – Toshigawa Academy 4
The crowd erupted, clapping and stomping filling the gym.
"A four-point play! Come on, Manabu! That's how it's done!" Kogure shouted from the bench, fists pumping and a wide grin on his face.
"I can't believe he's just a freshman… he's insanely talented," Kayano murmured, eyes fixed on the court.
"Yes, I was lucky enough to scout him," Arimoto replied, nodding. "His coach in junior high never used him properly. And now… look at him—controlling the game after only a month of training."
Next play, Eiji lobbed the ball downcourt, sending it just over Hayato's outstretched hand.
Ryuu caught it cleanly, took two quick steps, and launched into the air. Yukio leapt to meet him, arms raised, eyes locked on the ball, ready to contest.
Ryuu cocked the ball back and slammed it down hard. The rim rattled violently, and the sharp sound echoed through the gym like a clap of thunder.
Yukio stepped in too late and took the full force of Ryuu's momentum. He went sprawling, his back hitting the hardwood with a heavy thud. A sharp jolt shot through his spine, knocking the breath out of him. For a moment, the lights blurred, and his ears rang.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy—some jumping to their feet in disbelief, others cheering wildly. Even the Yokonan bench players leapt up, eyes wide with shock.
Shino, standing near the arc, froze. His jaw dropped, and his whole body stiffened. His hands shook slightly as his eyes stayed locked on Yukio, still motionless.
N-no… Captain… his voice trembled in disbelief.
Takahiro gripped the hem of his jersey with one hand, the other resting on his hip. He sucked in a sharp breath, heart pounding. "No way… they slammed it on Yukio like that?" he whispered, eyes wide.
Yukio hit the ground, sliding slightly, fingers twitching as he tried to regain his focus.
Ryuu leapt down from the rim, sneakers squeaking against the hardwood as he landed. "Take that! All of you are trash! Time you learned your place!" he barked, flexing his muscles as the crowd erupted around him.
"Damn that bastard! How dare he humiliate our captain like that?" Noboru snarled, fists clenching as his eyes burned with anger.
Yukio stared up at the bright gym lights for a moment. Then Takahiro and Hayato reached out their hands.
"Yukio, don't mind him! We're still in this!" Hayato called, sweat dripping from his headband into his eyes, but he didn't slow down.
Yukio grasped their hands, letting them pull him to his feet. His breaths came heavy and uneven, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself.
"Eighteen to four… this is bad," Haruko whispered, eyes flicking up at the scoreboard.
Nanaho stood beside her near the bench, hands clenched tightly over her clipboard.
I can't let the game go on like this. I have to do something, she thought, jaw tightening.
"Fukazawa-senpai," Tetsuo called from the bench, voice low and emotionless, but his eyes burned with an intensity that made Haruko flinch slightly.
Nanaho turned toward him.
"Yes. I know what I have to do," she said, calm but resolute. Then she straightened and shouted, "Timeout! I said—timeout!"
"Timeout! Toshigawa Academy!" the referee echoed, blowing the whistle sharply.