"Beep! Timeout for the upperclassmen!"
Barely into the game, Nango had already rattled off six straight points, giving the first-years a surprise lead. The gap wasn't huge, but the veterans' rhythm had clearly been broken.
Back in the huddle, Akagi wasted no time."Yasuda, don't force it. You don't need to get tangled up with Nango. On offense, feed me inside first. We have the advantage in the paint. Everyone else, spread the floor. If they double-team me, someone's going to be wide open—make sure you knock it down."
"Yes, Captain!" the upperclassmen replied.
"And on defense," Akagi added, "give Yasuda more help on Nango. Don't let him run wild."
Meanwhile, on the other bench, Nango grinned at Kuwata and Rukawa."Thanks for trusting me with the ball, Kuwata. And Rukawa—thanks for sticking with Captain Akagi."
Kuwata rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Haha, I didn't really do much…"
Rukawa just glanced at him, silent, sipping from his water bottle.
The truth was, Rukawa wanted to shine too. Ever since joining, he'd only done drills and practice—it was boring. A real game was his chance to stretch his wings. But thanks to Nango's dominance, the upperclassmen hadn't even given him much to do yet. The lack of challenge was… frustrating.
Nango didn't mind the silence. His expression grew serious."Listen, in the next half they'll pound the ball into the Captain. Don't worry about stopping him completely. Let him score if he wants—we just need to shut down everyone else. He can't score a hundred points by himself."
He winked.
That earned chuckles from the group, and nods of agreement.
"When we're on offense," Nango continued, "keep moving and find open spots. I'll get the ball to you right away. Just shoot with confidence!"
He raised his hand. One by one, the first-years stacked theirs on top, then shouted together:"Go!"
From the sidelines, Coach Anzai had been observing carefully. His eyes lingered on Nango and Rukawa. Outstanding… especially that boy Nango.
Ayako giggled. "Coach, the first-years are fired up! This new batch looks really good."
"Ho, ho, ho…" Anzai chuckled, his round frame shaking with amusement.
Not everyone was smiling. Sakuragi's face was twisted in frustration. His plan had been perfect: Akagi would dominate, then he would swoop in, overthrow the Gorilla, and win Haruko's heart.
Instead, Nango had flipped the script—scoring six straight, forcing Akagi to call timeout. Now Sakuragi had no reason to even get on the court. Damn it! How am I supposed to show off to Haruko like this?!
The whistle blew. The game resumed.
This time, Yasuda played it safe, immediately lobbing inside to Akagi.
Bang! Using his size and power, Akagi bulldozed Rukawa under the rim and scored with ease. The veterans finally got back on the board.
But it was Nango who set the pace.
He crossed half-court, gave Yasuda a quick crossover, blew by him, and slashed into the paint. Akagi slid over to help—his pride as a rim protector wouldn't allow anyone to run wild in his territory.
Nango rose just outside the restricted area, cocking the ball back as if to dunk.
"You're too early for that!" Akagi roared, leaping to swat it away.
But midair, Nango smirked. With a flick of his wrist, he bounced the ball down hard. It skipped across the floor and popped perfectly into Rukawa's hands.
Rukawa leapt like a cat, slamming it down with one hand.
"Ahhh! Rukawa! I love youuu!" his personal fan club screamed from the sidelines.
Even Haruko's cheeks turned pink."Rukawa…" she whispered.
Sakuragi's jaw dropped. "Damn it! Those two show-offs! Why can't I get on the court already?!"
Nango high-fived Rukawa with a grin. "Nice finish."
As they jogged back on defense, Akagi picked up the ball under the basket, watching the pair with mixed emotions. He was glad—finally, real reinforcements for Shohoku. But also troubled… because right now, they were his opponents. Together, they were proving to be almost unstoppable.
"Haah… damn these first-years…" Akagi panted, sweat dripping. This game won't be easy at all.
By halftime, the scoreboard told the story:
First-years 53 – 39 Upperclassmen
Akagi carried his side with 20 points, Kogure added three triples, but the rest of the veterans had only managed 10 combined.
On the other side, Nango had 15, Rukawa 17, and the rest of the freshmen chipped in 21. Every first-year who stepped on the court had scored—just as Nango had promised.
With his height and court vision, Nango threaded passes over Yasuda's head like it was nothing. Teammates only needed to be open; he would find them. If their shooting had been a little sharper, they'd be up by more than 20.
Yasuda sat on the bench, shoulders slumped. He couldn't stop Nango. If he pressured too close, Nango blew by. If he backed off, Nango shot right over him. And if help came, Nango picked out the open man every time.
Against anyone else, they could switch defenders. But against Nango? No one matched up—too tall for the guards, too quick for the bigs.
And when Akagi rotated over, Rukawa feasted.
Together, the pair wore Akagi down, forcing him to carry the entire offense while sealing off everyone else. The veterans' attacks grew disjointed, reduced to forced one-on-ones and the occasional pick-and-roll.
Only Akagi's brute strength kept them from falling further behind.
On the bench, Anzai's heart pounded. His eyes glistened as he thought of an old friend.
Yazawa… this is the basketball I've always dreamed of.