Even though it was just a scrimmage, Takeuchi's officiating was strict and professional. Guess that's what you'd expect from a former national player.
Thanks to him, both teams kept things relatively clean in the first half—aside from that little sideshow with Number 1.
Halftime score: Youth National Team – 56 - 54 Kaijo
Even with Kise carrying the offense like a machine, Kaijo was clearly being outpaced in terms of overall rhythm. The Youth Team had them on their heels most of the time. And let's not even talk about rebounds — Kaijo was getting absolutely wrecked in the paint.
Normally, Kobori does a solid job protecting the paint, but up against a frontcourt full of walking redwoods all pushing 6'8", even he could only watch helplessly as the boards got cleaned over his head.
And it wasn't just the bigs. Kasamatsu on the perimeter kept getting targeted. His defensive fundamentals were decent, but this wasn't a video game — size and athleticism still matter.Usually, Kota would help take some of the heat off, but after Kota's explosive start (shutting down Number 1 and straight-up scaring Yuki off the floor), no one on the Youth Team wanted that smoke.
Why pick a boss fight when there are minions available?
Kota's defense might not be perfect, but to opponents who didn't know any better, it looked scary enough to avoid.
So yeah—Kaijo's defense was getting picked apart.
Offensively, outside of Kise, they couldn't do much either. Kota's usual playmaking magic had limited impact — his teammates just weren't winning their matchups. The plays weren't clicking.
Luckily, Kise was still tearing it up, even against the national squad's defense.
One-on-one, nobody could stay in front of him, so the Youth Team had to start throwing double and triple teams. But Kise wasn't selfish like Aomine — if you left a guy open, he'd sling the pass without hesitation.
And with Kota poking around the offense, flopping like an Oscar-winning actor and baiting whistles left and right, the two of them were keeping Kaijo in the fight.
Halftime, locker room.
"These kids aren't pushovers…"
The Youth Team's captain frowned at the scoreboard.
Kise alone was already giving them headaches — and that foul-baiting gremlin, Kota? He was just as annoying.
"If we lose this, we'll be a national joke. 'The Youth Team can't even beat a high school squad!' We'd be memed for months."
He glanced at Yuki, who was silently sipping water, avoiding eye contact.
Then he nudged Number 1.
"Get ready. You're back in second half. Do whatever it takes to shut that Kota kid down."
Number 1 lit up.
Finally, his shot at redemption.
"Captain, don't worry. That first half embarrassment? Won't happen again!"
Yuki said nothing, as usual. The kid didn't have a confrontational bone in his body.
Start of the second half.
Kota had just finished tying his shoes when he looked up and blinked.
"…Huh? Where's my rookie? Why's that clown back?"
Sure, Yuki hadn't exactly been crushing Kota 1v1 — but his vision and passing had been super effective, getting their big men clean looks inside.
Even Kota had to admit: the freshman was surprisingly solid.
"Guess they're panicking. Trying something different 'cause they're scared of losing. Classic 'throw stuff at the wall and pray.'"
Kota chuckled.
Kota grinned—maybe a little too much.
Number 1 saw it. And got mad before the ball even went live.
He pressed up on Kota like a human backpack, getting handsy, bumping shoulders—trying to rattle him. The pressure ramped up fast. And when Kota baited a couple more fouls? Number 1's "defense" went from aggressive to borderline assault.
Kota looked up at Takeuchi like:
…Yo, coach-ref? Gonna blow that whistle before I get turned into roadkill?
But Takeuchi didn't move.
If that were Kasamatsu or Kobori getting hacked, he'd have called it. But with Kota and Ryo? Different standards.
This wasn't pro ball, but Takeuchi was treating it like it was.
"Basketball isn't about playing nice" he thought. "Dirty plays and rough contact are part of the game. You don't have to use them—but you better know how to deal with them."
And unfortunately for Kota, who wasn't exactly built like LeBron, losing whistle protection hit hard.
He just didn't have the physical tools to brute-force through defenders.
"Don't blame me, Kota" Takeuchi thought silently, as he watched Kota get bulldozed, lose the ball, and still didn't call a thing. "This is something you have to learn."
Kota sat on the floor, watching Number 1 dunk it in off the turnover. He didn't yell or pout — just stood up, dusted off his shorts.
He got the message.
"Ah. So that's the plan. You benched Yuki just to sic this guy on me, huh…"
He glanced over at Kise.
If he wasn't already feeling it, he would be soon.
Kota scratched his nose, annoyed.
"Man, if I just had a stronger body… I'd be punishing these guys right now for overcommitting. Gotta fix that."
Sure enough, Kise started getting swarmed too.
Seeing how rough Number 1 was playing without drawing whistles, the rest of the Youth Team caught on fast.
Suddenly, Kise was getting bumped, grabbed, and hacked every time he cut to the paint — and unless it was a WWE-level takedown, Takeuchi just stood there, hands in pockets.
Kise went up for a dunk and got flattened by two bigs. All hands, no ball.
Youth Team 67-58 Kaijo
Now down 9, Kise finally snapped.
Flat on the floor, he shouted,
"That's a foul! Come on! Coach, you blind or just bored?!"
Takeuchi waved dismissively.
"Play on."
Kota immediately called a timeout.
Jogged over, helped Kise up, patted his back.
"Chill. He's got a plan."
Kise stared at him like he just grew a second head.
"Oh, he's got a plan alright. Probably thinks he's in a documentary. Invites us for a scrimmage, refs the game himself, and now he's throwing elbows through us. That's what passes for coaching genius these days?"
Before Kota could respond, Number 1 wandered past them, smirking,
"Tsk. Kids these days… Learn something: this ain't recess. This is real basketball."
Number 1 felt clever—he'd cracked the code.
"Takeuchi wants his guys toughened up? Fine. We'll give 'em a baptism by elbows."
Hearing that, Kota stopped.
He turned slowly.
Eyes cold.
"…Spare me the life lessons, Grandpa. If cheap shots are all you've got, you're not 'real basketball.' You're just noise."