For most of the game, the upperclassmen had been dominated. But the moment Akagi swatted Sakuragi Hanamichi's dunk attempt into the ground, their fighting spirit roared back to life.
The freshmen's morale, however, plummeted. They hadn't trusted Sakuragi to begin with, and now their worst fears had come true.
Kogure looked at the dejected first-years, his eyes settling on Nango. So that's why you brought in Sakuragi? For energy? But he's still just a novice. That was reckless.
On the sidelines, Ayako frowned. "What is that idiot doing? He wasted such a perfect chance…"
She had trained Sakuragi diligently, seen his progress firsthand. She had hoped he would prove himself here and give her something to be proud of—but once on the court, he froze, overthinking instead of acting.
"Sakuragi…" Haruko's hands tightened around her skirt. She wanted to cheer him up but couldn't find the right words.
Takamiya's glasses glinted. "I knew this would happen."
Noma shrugged, eyes closed. "He's just a layman. Of course he can't help."
Okusu smirked. "Guess Nango still doesn't understand Sakuragi."
But Yohei's tone was different, his brow furrowed. "No… right now, Sakuragi must feel humiliated. Getting stuffed by Gorilla like that—it's a real blow to his pride."
Haruko's heart clenched. If that was true, then Sakuragi was hurting more than she thought.
And indeed, on the court, Sakuragi was burning with frustration. Blocked… by Gorilla? Just like that? Damn it! Aren't I supposed to be a genius? The savior of this team?!
"Hey."
Nango turned. Rukawa Kaede had spoken.
He pointed coldly at Sakuragi. "Are you sure letting that idiot play won't just drag us down?"
It was rare for Rukawa to say so much. Their rivalry made him speak.
"Relax," Nango replied with a calm smile. "Sakuragi will improve as he plays. He's still new, after all. Forgive a small mistake."
Then he added, "And besides, even if Sakuragi struggles—don't you and I have this covered?"
Rukawa fell silent. After a moment, he nodded and returned to his spot. For now, he accepted it.
Nango turned back, extending a hand toward Sakuragi, who was still sitting on the floor. "Don't dwell on it. Next time, just dunk it right back. We've got time. Let's take it one play at a time."
Sakuragi looked up at the offered hand—then slapped it away. Gritting his teeth, fists clenched, he stood and jogged back to half-court.
He didn't need anyone's pity.
Watching him go, Nango rubbed his stinging hand. "Damn… he's strong."
On the bench, Coach Anzai smiled knowingly. Good… very good. This boy Nango—he has more leadership than Akagi did at his age. He could very well become Shohoku's core. And perhaps… through him, I can atone for my past mistakes.
Unaware of Anzai's thoughts, Nango brought the ball up slowly, weighing his options. He could score himself, yes—but if he hogged the offense, it would crush his teammates' morale. That card had to be saved for crunch time.
Let's try the same setup. Will Akagi fall for it again?
He began dribbling with exaggerated crossovers, wide and flashy. Yasuda mirrored him, adjusting his balance, eyes locked on the ball.
Suddenly, Nango exploded forward. Yasuda chased desperately, but Nango slipped the ball behind his back, then through his legs, switching directions twice in a blur. Yasuda's feet tangled—he stumbled and fell flat as Nango glided past.
"Whoa!" The sideline erupted. Breaking ankles like that wasn't something you saw often.
"Damn it…" Yasuda pounded the floor. The gap between us… is it really this big?
Once again, Nango drove into the paint. And once again, Akagi loomed before him, torn between choices. Last time, Sakuragi wasted the chance. But this time…
Still, instinct won. He stepped up to stop Nango.
The ball zipped past him—straight into Sakuragi's hands again.
"This time, I won't fail!"
Without hesitation, Sakuragi roared, leapt, and slammed the ball through the hoop with both hands. The gym shook with the force of it.
"Nice dunk, Sakuragi-san!" Haruko beamed, her worries melting away.
"Haruko-san~!" Sakuragi's eyes instantly turned into hearts, basking in her praise.
"Finally…" Yohei sighed in relief. "Good job, Sakuragi."
Takamiya and the others, who had mocked him moments earlier, fell silent. Seeing Sakuragi actually deliver left them… uncomfortable.
"Good work, Sakuragi. Now hustle back on defense," Nango reminded him, then exchanged a knowing look with Rukawa.
Rukawa didn't answer, but he understood. Trust.
Still, he thought differently. Relying on others is meaningless. As long as I'm strong enough, we win. If we lose—it means I'm not strong enough yet.
The clock ticked down. Only three minutes remained.
The upperclassmen still trailed—but the game was far from over.