The game between Seiyo and Meizawa was still underway.
After both sides scored once at the start, the match settled into a tense equilibrium — a back-and-forth cycle of offense and defense.
Whenever Meizawa scored, Seiyo would immediately answer with a basket of their own.
Meizawa's attack revolved around Sawakita Eiji's overwhelming skill. He went one-on-one against Sendoh, forcing his way through time after time.
Sendoh did everything he could to stop him, but Sawakita always found a gap to exploit.
However, Seiyo's offense shocked Meizawa just as much.
Ake's passes were silent and precise, landing perfectly in Sendoh's hands every time.
The two moved in sync, tearing through Meizawa's defense like clockwork.
Even Sawakita, who was guarding Sendoh, found himself growing frustrated.
Just like that, the first half ended in a deadlock.
Seiyo 48 – 48 Meizawa.
As they walked off the court, Sawakita shot Ake a sharp look.
He hadn't expected Ake's passing to be so unpredictable — each pass had thrown them into chaos.
And Ake's ball-handling… it was as if the ball was glued to his palm.
He recalled what Sendoh had said before the game.
"We lost to you last year, but this year… it won't be so easy to beat us."
Sawakita clenched his fist lightly, eyes narrowing.
Looks like I'll have to get serious this time.
During the halftime break, Meizawa's coach made tactical adjustments.
His approach was simple — exactly what Ake had feared.
They would double-team Ake and Sendoh.
It made sense.
Aside from those two, Seiyo's other three players were far weaker.
From what the first half had shown, each of them could barely hold their own against a single Meizawa player.
So, by sending just one defender to mark all three of them, Meizawa could focus its real strength on neutralizing Ake and Sendoh.
Ake's worst fear had come true.
Beep!
The whistle blew — the second half began.
Almost instantly, Ake sensed something different about Meizawa's formation.
Their players were closing in on him and Sendoh, deliberately cutting off space.
"So they really went for the double-team tactic, huh…" Ake muttered under his breath.
He had predicted it, but seeing it unfold firsthand still made him uneasy.
With two defenders on both him and Sendoh, the pressure spiked immediately. Their movement on the court was squeezed into tighter and tighter spaces.
Ake kept a calm expression, but he could feel the weight pressing down on him.
He wasn't afraid of being double-teamed — but the passing lanes to Sendoh were completely blocked.
He had no choice but to pass to the others.
Scanning the court, Ake spotted a few possible routes.
Without even turning his head, he flicked his arm, sending the ball flying through the narrowest of gaps between two defenders.
Both defenders froze the moment they realized the ball was gone.
Their eyes followed it — straight into Yamamoto's hands.
Yamamoto reacted quickly, sprinting toward Meizawa's basket.
He reached the three-point line and prepared to shoot — but before he could release the ball, a huge hand came down from above.
SLAM!
The sound of the block echoed sharply through the gym, hitting Yamamoto harder than the impact itself.
He stood frozen, eyes wide with shock.
When he turned, his expression stiffened completely.
The one who blocked him was the only Meizawa player who hadn't joined the double-team.
'No way…'
He couldn't believe it. Just one Meizawa player had effortlessly stopped him.
He had thought the double-team strategy was overkill — that surely three Seiyo players could handle one defender.
But now, he realized just how naïve that thought was.
The ball bounced away and was quickly recovered by Meizawa's point guard.
Ake lunged forward to try for a steal, but before he could reach, the Meizawa guard flicked his wrist — a sharp pass.
The ball landed in Sawakita's hands.
Without hesitation, Sawakita feinted, changed direction, and slipped right past Sendoh.
One of his teammates stepped in to block Sendoh's path, forming a wall.
Only Kobayashi Koichi remained under the Seiyo basket.
Sawakita drove in, effortlessly bypassed Kobayashi's defense, and leapt up for a layup.
Swish.
The ball fell cleanly through the net.
Seiyo 48 – 50 Meizawa.
Ake and Sendoh frowned at the same time.
After that last exchange, both instantly realized the problem.
Their fears had come true.
Seiyo regained possession.
Ake brought the ball up again — and, as expected, the double-team was waiting.
He analyzed the court, looking for openings, and once again slipped a pass between defenders.
This time, the ball landed in Kirihara Hayato's hands.
He sprinted full speed toward the basket, his pace nearly at its peak.
But a shadow loomed behind him — someone was catching up.
The sound of sneakers scraping the floor grew louder.
Feeling the pressure behind him, Kirihara instinctively glanced back — and froze.
What he saw made his heart stop.
His body stiffened, his rhythm broke — and the ball slipped right out of his hands.
"Damn it!"
He tried to save it, but the ball rolled away, bouncing helplessly out of bounds.
Ake's expression darkened.
An indescribable frustration welled up inside him — an awkward, suffocating mix of anger and disappointment.
Possession switched to Meizawa again.
And as expected, Sawakita tore through Seiyo's defense once more, scoring an easy two points.
After that, Seiyo's offense completely stalled.
Kirihara, Kobayashi, and Yamamoto all received passes from Ake — yet each time, the ball was either intercepted or stolen.
Ake tried to stay calm, but the irritation gnawed at him.
Sendoh said nothing, but the frustration in his eyes said it all.
Ake could only watch in silence as his three teammates blundered again and again.
The problem wasn't Meizawa's double-team anymore — it was Seiyo itself.
They couldn't even cooperate properly.
Every time they got the ball, instead of passing or coordinating, they just charged forward recklessly.
That's when a familiar voice echoed in Ake's mind — the voice of his second personality.
"Now you understand how foolish your earlier thoughts were, don't you?"
Ake ignored it, keeping his focus on the court.
"I can feel it," the voice continued. "You're wavering. You know I'm right. Relying on teammates will only lead to defeat. Just look at the score!"
Ake clenched his jaw, forcing his way out of the double-team. His eyes flicked toward the scoreboard.
Seiyo 48 – 60 Meizawa.
A 12-point gap.
It wasn't an insurmountable lead…
But that wasn't the real problem.
The clock was ticking.
Half of the second half was already gone — and unless Seiyo found a breakthrough soon, defeat was inevitable.