Up in the stands, the players of Sengko Middle School—who had suffered quite a blow at the hands of Kirisaki Daiichi during the preliminaries—were exchanging looks, trying to contain their growing excitement.
Well, all except the first-years, who looked absolutely horrified.
"So that's…"
"…how they dealt with it?"
A particularly baby-faced first-year stared wide-eyed at the court, where Akihito Shigure had just inflicted a brutal second injury on Hanamiya Makoto without so much as changing expression. "I can't believe it… Akihito Shigure, a player that famous, had such a terrifying side to him…"
"Pfft~"
A third-year sitting nearby suddenly burst into laughter.
"Eh…"
"Senpai…?"
"Ah—sorry~"
"But seriously, that move from Shigure just now was so clean"
Another third-year couldn't hold back a chuckle either.
"I've been professionally trained not to laugh, no matter how funny something is…"
"Unless I really can't help it"
"Hah"
"That innocent face Shigure made—that was a taste of his own medicine, pure and simple."
On the court
Hanamiya was down on one knee, one hand gripping his stomach, his face twisted in agony.
As he grit his teeth and let out a low groan, the initial gut pain from the elbow strike slowly began to ease. But then, a sharper, deeper pain shot through his right knee.
The pain from his abdomen had partially masked it at first—but now, fully exposed, the searing ache of what felt like torn ligaments and raw nerves overwhelmed him.
His face contorted in panic.
In that moment, Hanamiya Makoto—who'd always been so cold and calculating—was nearly knocked unconscious from the pain. Just like his teammate had been.
Moments later…
Hanamiya was writhing on the ground in so much agony that they had no choice but to carry him off on a stretcher.
Soon after
Shuzo Nijimura, ever composed, dribbled slowly, letting the last 10 seconds of the half run out before signaling halftime.
When Akihito Shigure returned to the bench, wearing an expression of righteous sorrow—as if he were mourning a tragic accident—all of his teammates and juniors gave him a very… peculiar look.
"?"
"What?"
"If you've got something to say, spit it out."
"Don't hold it in and let it rot."
Shinji Kurokami, sitting next to Reiji Fukaya, stared at Shigure with a complicated expression. "Shigure… when the hell did you get this scary?"
Since entering middle school, the gap between the first and second string, and between those who played in Nationals and those who didn't, had grown rapidly.
But none of that hit as hard for Kurokami as the realization just now: somewhere along the way, he had completely lost track of his friend's growth.
Sure, Shigure's improvement in skill had been obvious—anyone could see it. But what Kurokami had never expected… was that beneath all that, a much darker edge had formed.
His gaze drifted, almost instinctively, toward Nijimura.
Within the basketball club, only Nijimura could go toe-to-toe with Shigure. Both served as captain and vice-captain, and their explosive clashes extended even off the court, as if locked in an endless duel.
But none of that was the issue.
The real question was
What the hell has that ex-delinquent Nijimura been teaching Shigure?
Hearing Kurokami's remark, Shigure just chuckled. "Well, he was the one still trying to play dirty. He even threatened to go after you guys. So…"
"I struck first"
Nijimura nodded. "He was just trying to distract you. His real target was still you. If you hadn't acted first, you'd be the one on the floor right now."
At that, he paused.
"…probably."
That one word stunned Kurokami and Fukaya into silence.
"…"
Wait, seriously?
Hanamiya gambled that hard? Should've just gone after me instead…
Fukaya, always blunt, said flatly, "No hesitation needed. Shigure's response was spot-on. Hanamiya's the type you want gone by halftime."
"Especially since we've got first-years subbing in after the break."
Shigure: "…"
Fukaya really… rides hard for his juniors.
Second half
As expected, neither Hanamiya Makoto nor Kirisaki's No.11 returned to the court.
No.11 had likely already been rushed to the hospital to check for a concussion, but Hanamiya… his gut had taken a couple of brutal hits, sure—but the real damage was his knee.
During Shigure's charge, there was a distinctly audible crack.
Pretty sure the ambulance was going to have to double back just for him.
Back on the court
Kirisaki Daiichi's second-years took the floor again, but without Hanamiya to anchor them, they instantly lost all coordination, scrambling like headless chickens.
Say what you will about his dirty tactics, but as a point guard, Hanamiya had excellent control over tempo and ball movement.
With or without him, Kirisaki was clearly two different teams.
Teiko, meanwhile, had sent in their "bench players" which happened to be Aomine, Murasakibara, Midorima, Haizaki, and Akashi. A rainbow lineup of first-years, playing for real—clearly outclassing the opposition.
But with Hanamiya gone, Kirisaki's players grew increasingly aggressive.
Haizaki, of course, thrived in the chaos—he was loving it.
The rest of the team, though?
Without Nijimura on the court, their expressions darkened.
Akashi Seijuro: "…"
This was nothing like the first quarter, when he'd subbed in earlier.
The difference?
Captain Nijimura.
Just look at the defense.
Under Shigure's absurdly wide coverage, Nijimura's court awareness had quietly shaped the entire game—from controlling tempo, to exploiting how refs miss "small fouls" in blind spots.
His vision, data processing, and split-second decision-making were all top-tier.
As Kirisaki's fouls escalated, Teiko responded in kind. Especially Murasakibara.
Soon, the referees had to tighten up their calls. The second half turned into a whistle-fest—more free throws than plays.
But in the end, Kirisaki had already lost two starters—one of whom was Hanamiya Makoto, one of the "Five Generals." No amount of dirty tricks could bridge that gap.
Especially against Teiko's absurdly strong first-years.
Spectators from other teams began leaving the stands.
Teiko's first-years were strong, sure.
But compared to the first half…
There was really nothing left worth watching.
"Kirisaki Daiichi—what the hell were they thinking? Picking a fight with Teiko in group stage play?"
"If they'd just thrown this match, they could've saved strength for the fight for second place."
"Now they've lost two starters…"
"Without Hanamiya calling the shots, all those dirty tricks will be wide open to the refs. At this rate, they might not even make it out of group stage."
On the other side, at Sengko Middle
"If we'd faced Teiko's first-years right from the start… Hanamiya's ball-denial strategy might've worked. It clearly wasn't effective against Teiko's point guard—but against others, it'd be a nightmare."
"Too bad Teiko's twin stars don't play by the rules. They didn't even pass the ball for half a quarter, just went full one-on-one mode. With that kind of offense and defense, they broke Hanamiya."
"Hanamiya…"
"Say what you want about his methods, but this was supposed to be his year."
"No one expected that even in the dirty-tricks department, Kirisaki would be completely outclassed—by Shigure and Nijimura of all people."
The third-year from Sengko whose leg had been injured earlier gave Shigure and Nijimura a complicated look from the bench.
The way they used underhanded techniques—ones Kirisaki prided itself on—was so masterful it was chilling.
It was all… too perfect.
A third-year from Kirisaki: "…"
That kind of retaliation… as a player, it wasn't something he could fully accept.
He was exactly the kind of "naïve" player Hanamiya used to sneer at.
But truth be told…
That moment Hanamiya collapsed to the floor…
It felt so satisfying.
Like a long-buried weight had been lifted.
So
Thank you.
Even if I could never go that far myself…
Next year—maybe the year after, once I reach high school
If I ever get another shot at Hanamiya, I swear I'll find my own closure—with my own hands.
End of chapter...
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