Sakuragi Hanamichi caught the inbound pass from Uozumi at the baseline and dribbled across half court.
Rukawa Kaede stepped up to meet him again.
They collided one meter beyond the three-point line.
This time, Rukawa's defensive stance was even lower, his center of gravity pressed deep into the floor—clearly determined to stop Sakuragi from backing him down again.
But Sakuragi had no intention of changing anything.
Same old move.
He turned his back, slammed that broad frame into Rukawa's chest, and began to dribble as he bulldozed forward.
Rukawa clenched his teeth, his feet glued to the floor. From Sakuragi's back came a force like a landslide crashing down on him.
Once again, Sakuragi shoved his way to the free-throw line.
Simple.
Brutal.
Effective.
Like driving a nail with a sledgehammer—no tricks, no finesse, just raw power.
"Defense! Collapse the paint!" Ayako shouted from the sideline.
Shohoku's defense shifted instantly. Kogure Kiminobu, who had been guarding Koshino, abandoned his man and lunged toward Sakuragi.
From the other side, Kakuta Satoru rushed in to help. In the blink of an eye, Sakuragi was trapped in a three-man wall—Rukawa behind him, Kogure on his right, Kakuta on his left.
But just as the trap closed—
Sakuragi moved.
With his right hand, he whipped the ball through the narrow gap between defenders.
The basketball spun toward the left corner.
There, completely wide open, stood Koshino Hiroaki.
Koshino caught the ball—and froze for a split second.
He hadn't expected Sakuragi to find a passing lane in a triple-team.
Even less had he expected such a perfect pass—chest-high, smooth rotation, no adjustment needed.
He snapped back to reality, rose, and fired.
Wrist flick.
Fingers follow through.
One fluid motion.
The ball carved a beautiful arc through the air.
Every eye followed it.
Swish.
74 : 70.
"Great shot!!!" The Ryonan bench exploded.
Aida Hikoichi scribbled frantically in his notebook:
Sakuragi Hanamichi—Assist +2. Brilliant kick-out pass. Finds the open man in a triple-team…
Sakuragi turned and sprinted back on defense.
As he passed Rukawa, he heard him grind out through clenched teeth:
"Is that the only move you have?"
Without slowing, Sakuragi replied,
"If it works, it works."
Heh.
My body is stronger than yours.
My power is greater.
So why bother with fancy footwork or fake-outs?
Just crush you with physicality.
Rukawa's face darkened.
Shohoku's Possession
Rukawa called for the ball again.
This time, he didn't isolate on the perimeter. Instead, he used a screen and cut hard into the paint. Yasuda's pass arrived right on time.
Rukawa caught, rose—
But Sakuragi was right there.
Like gum stuck to a shoe, he clung to Rukawa's side. They leapt together, bodies colliding in midair.
Rukawa tried to double-clutch for a hanging layup—
But Sakuragi's arm completely sealed off his angle.
Clang!
The ball smashed into the front rim and bounced away.
Uozumi and Akagi both jumped for the rebound.
But a third shadow soared even higher—
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
His fingertips brushed the ball before either giant could reach it, gently tipping it outward.
The ball flew to the perimeter.
Uekusa scooped it up. Ryonan pushed the fast break.
The Next Four Minutes
They became Sakuragi's personal stage—
even though he didn't score a single point.
On defense, he completely shut down Shohoku's most reliable scorer: Rukawa Kaede.
Every catch—tight pressure.
Every drive—brutal contact.
Every shot—that enormous hand looming in his face.
And it wasn't just Rukawa.
When Akagi posted up Uozumi, Sakuragi would suddenly explode in from the weak side, his terrifying leap disrupting the shot.
When Kogure tried a three, or a midrange jumper, Sakuragi would flash out like lightning. He didn't block every shot—but he destroyed their rhythm.
On offense, Sakuragi became Ryonan's engine.
Backing down Rukawa.
High pick-and-roll, dish to Uozumi.
Drive-and-kick to Ikegami in the corner.
No-look pass in transition to Koshino…
Every pass was perfect.
Every decision was terrifyingly rational.
Taoka stood on the sideline with his arms crossed, face calm—but his trembling fingers betrayed his excitement.
What was he witnessing?
A point guard who didn't need to score to dominate a game.
A monster who decided victory through defense, rebounds, and assists alone.
And more—
Taoka glanced at the scoreboard.
1:23 remaining.
88 : 71.
Seventeen-point lead.
Exactly the same as Ryonan's biggest lead in the first half.
"This kid…" Taoka's lips curved upward.
"He even controls the margin to be identical…"
Final Possession
Shohoku ball.
Eight seconds left.
Rukawa stood beyond the arc, staring at the scoreboard—then at Sakuragi guarding him.
Resolve flashed in his eyes.
He exploded to the right.
Hard stop.
Step-back.
Rise—
Fadeaway three.
His most confident weapon.
His final struggle.
But Sakuragi never lost position.
He jumped in rhythm, arm fully extended, fingertips grazing the underside of the ball.
Tap.
Just enough.
The ball's trajectory changed—
slamming into the front rim and bouncing high.
Under the basket, Akagi and Uozumi leapt together. Akagi tipped it.
They jumped again—
But a red blur rocketed between them.
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
At the peak, he snatched the ball with one hand.
He landed with a heavy thud.
Two seconds left.
He didn't pass.
Didn't shoot.
He simply held the ball and looked at the referee.
Beep—
The buzzer sounded.
Ryonan Wins.
The bench erupted like a tidal wave. Teammates stormed the court and surrounded Sakuragi.
In the stands, the Sakuragi Army stood frozen—four statues with mouths agape.
"Is… is it over?" Takamiya whispered.
"Hanamichi…" Ohkusu swallowed.
"He scored zero points… but somehow… he was everywhere."
"Seventeen-point gap…" Noma stared at the scoreboard.
"Same as the first half's biggest lead…"
Mito Yohei said nothing.
He simply watched the red-haired figure being lifted by his teammates—his eyes filled with pride.
Shohoku's Side
The mood was heavy.
Haruko bit her lip, eyes red, staring at the scoreboard—then at the red-haired Ryonan freshman.
"That redhead… he's so strong…"
Yasuda collapsed to the floor.
Kogure gazed at the ceiling and sighed.
Kakuta bent over, gasping.
Rukawa stood beyond the three-point line, unmoving.
Sweat dripped from his chin.
He stared at Sakuragi, surrounded by teammates—his expression conflicted.
Resentment…
and something new.
Powerlessness.
On both ends of the court, he had been completely suppressed.
The opponent hadn't even scored—
yet through defense, rebounds, and passing alone, had rendered him helpless.
"Rukawa…" Akagi patted his shoulder.
"Let's go. Time for handshakes."
After the Game
The teams lined up at center court.
Afterward, Anzai shook Taoka's hand.
"Coach Taoka," he said gently, a sharp glint behind his glasses,
"Ryonan has found an extraordinary newcomer."
Taoka forced down his smile and replied modestly:
"You flatter us, Coach Anzai. Your Rukawa Kaede is also exceptional. With time, he'll become an ace like Sendoh."
They exchanged pleasantries before Shohoku departed.
Watching them leave, Taoka finally turned back to his team, grinning brighter than he had in weeks.
"Excellent work!" he boomed.
"Especially you, Sakuragi! Those last five minutes—perfect!"
Sakuragi scratched his head.
"You flatter me, Coach."
"Not at all!"
Taoka waved—then his face darkened.
"But—"
Everyone flinched.
Here it comes.
"Uozumi! What were those blown assignments?! How many midrange shots did you give Akagi?!"
"Coach, I—"
"Quiet! Extra defensive footwork! One more hour every day!"
"Sendoh! Enjoy coasting in the first half? Resting up?! I'll show you rest—five hundred shots! Miss one and start over!"
"Koshino! Why hesitate on open threes?! Catch and shoot—five hundred reps!"
"Ikegami! Too soft inside! Train your finishing!"
"Uekusa! Ball control! You got stripped twice by Yasuda—shameful!"
The team was blasted into submission.
Finally, Taoka turned to Sakuragi.
Everyone peeked, relieved—at least someone else would be scolded.
But Taoka stared… then said:
"Sakuragi is fine. Keep it up."
"…?!"
The team: What?!
This favoritism is criminal!!
"However," Taoka added,
"you still need to work on your shooting."
"Yes, Coach." Sakuragi nodded. He planned to anyway.
"Dismissed!"
They fled for the locker room.
As Sakuragi walked out last, he heard Uozumi grumble:
"Coach is so biased…"
"Because he earned it," Sendoh replied easily.
"Those last five minutes—he controlled the entire game."
"He didn't even score…"
"That was Coach's instruction," Sendoh smiled.
"If he had, the gap wouldn't have stayed at seventeen."
"…What?! He wasn't allowed to score?!"
They froze.
Sakuragi changed clothes and stepped outside.
Shohoku's bus was already driving away.
By the road, the Sakuragi Army waited.
"Hanamichi!" Takamiya ran up.
"You were—"
"Amazing," Yohei finished, smiling.
Sakuragi laughed.
"Come on. My treat. Ramen."
"Seriously?!"
"Did the sun rise in the west?!"
"Extra chashu! Two portions!"
The five of them bickered as they disappeared into the shopping street.