After receiving the ball with his back to the basket, Kawata quickly turned to face the hoop.
Although he was currently playing center, his offensive instincts leaned more toward guard-style techniques. Rather than relying on brute force, he preferred quick moves and refined footwork.
Nango immediately closed in, sticking tightly to him.
He didn't believe Kawata's speed would be enough to blow past him.
Kawata tried to create space by pushing with his left arm, but quickly realized it wouldn't work. Nango's lower body was extremely stable. If he forced it any further, an offensive foul was almost guaranteed.
With no choice, Kawata put the ball on the floor and drove.
As expected, Nango followed effortlessly. Kawata's speed was clearly inferior—Nango stayed right in front of him.
But Kawata wasn't surprised.
He had already anticipated this.
Bending his waist, Kawata suddenly leaned in and slammed his left shoulder into Nango's chest.
Nango staggered half a step.
That was all Kawata needed.
He immediately stopped, rose up, and flicked the ball out with his right hand in a crude hook shot.
Simple. Direct. Brutal.
Pain flared in Nango's chest, but he gritted his teeth, forced himself forward, raised both arms, and jumped.
Bang!
His middle finger grazed the ball.
Landing, Nango spun instantly and boxed Kawata out, ready to fight for the rebound.
Clang!
The ball smashed against the rim and bounced high.
Kawata was stunned.
It didn't go in? Did he touch it?
Before he could react, Nango jumped again and secured the rebound cleanly. He turned and pushed the ball forward himself.
This possession needed to be fast.
Nango wanted Shohoku—not Sannoh—to have the final attack of the half.
With Big Kawata still lagging behind, Sannoh momentarily fell into a four-on-five situation during the defensive transition.
Nango hadn't even crossed his own three-point line when he had already shaken off Kawata Masashi.
Fukatsu saw through his intention immediately and abandoned Miyagi, rushing over to stop him.
Once again, Fukatsu went for the steal—but this time he was cautious. He didn't overcommit. He disrupted Nango's rhythm just enough, then stuck tightly to his side as they crossed into the frontcourt.
Hyuga Yuichi straightened up and smiled.
"This kid's about to go crazy again."
Endo nodded.
"He should've done this sooner. In a game he can dominate alone, there's no need to pass so much."
Hyuga waved his hand helplessly.
"No helping it. He always holds himself back. If no one pushes him, he'll keep restraining himself."
As they spoke, Nango and Fukatsu had already crossed Sannoh's three-point line.
Sawakita rushed over to help.
Nango noticed him out of the corner of his eye—but showed no intention of slowing down.
He charged straight at the basket.
This kid… he's not really going to force it, is he?
Fukatsu hesitated.
In this situation, there was no way he could stop Nango outright. He also didn't want to become a highlight victim. So he decided on one thing only—
The moment Nango gathered the ball, he would strike.
As for success?
That would be up to fate.
Sawakita sprinted at full speed from behind. Whether it was a dunk or a layup, as long as the ball was exposed, he was confident he could block it.
Nango's left foot landed on the lower arc of the free-throw line.
He gathered the ball.
Fukatsu struck.
Slap!
His palm smacked the ball—and Nango's hand along with it.
At that moment, Fukatsu was ruthless.
Even if I can't stop him, I absolutely can't give him an and-one!
Beep!
The sideline referee blew the whistle immediately.
Yet even so, Nango forcibly tore free from Fukatsu's arm with sheer strength and leapt upward, attempting to dunk.
But Fukatsu's interference had worked.
Nango's jump was noticeably lower.
Slap!
As Nango raised his right hand to finish, Sawakita soared in from behind and smacked the ball out of bounds.
After landing, Nango rubbed his reddened hand, turned to Sawakita, and said coldly,
"Next time, I'll dunk it."
Sawakita's face darkened.
"Then you're welcome to try."
Uozumi glanced at the clock—forty seconds remained.
"Sannoh's comeback momentum was suppressed again. Shohoku's taken control of the first half."
Ikegami frowned.
"They even double-teamed him and still couldn't stop Nango. How are they supposed to defend in the second half?"
Sendo smiled calmly.
"Looks like Sannoh's locker room won't be very peaceful at halftime."
At the free-throw line, Nango calmly sank both shots.
The lead stretched to eight points.
At this point, Sannoh no longer thought about tying the score. Their only goal was to score once and defend Shohoku's final possession.
Fukatsu glanced at the timer, waiting patiently. When the number reached "10", he finally initiated the offense.
He dribbled toward Big Kawata at the arc. Kawata screened Miyagi, then rolled inside.
Nango switched onto Fukatsu immediately, pressing tightly and trying to cut off the passing lane.
Even so, Fukatsu found a narrow angle and passed—not to Kawata, but to Matsumoto at the top of the arc.
The moment Matsumoto caught it, he lobbed the ball inside.
Kawata caught it in stride and scored immediately, before Sakuragi even a chance to interfere.
Only 13 seconds remained.
Sakuragi grabbed the ball and prepared to pass to Miyagi—but Little Kawata blocked his path, forcing the ball into Miyagi's hands.
Fukatsu hovered nearby.
A full-court press.
"Sakuragi!" Nango shouted.
He sprinted to the baseline, calling for the ball.
He would take the final shot.
Seeing this, Sannoh immediately retreated.
They knew pressing Nango was pointless—it would only give Shohoku more options. A clean half-court defense was the better choice.
Besides, Little Kawata was still trailing behind. They needed to retreat early and rely on formation defense.
Nango crossed half-court quickly, then stopped near the center circle, adjusting his dribble.
Because Little Kawata was late getting back, Kawata Masashi had to guard Sakuragi inside.
That left Fukatsu on Nango.
Miyagi was open again—but Matsumoto positioned himself between Miyagi and Mitsui, ready to rotate at any moment.
Why isn't he moving yet…?
Fukatsu's eyes locked onto the ball.
His heart grew increasingly tense.
He couldn't see the shot clock.
He didn't know when Nango would strike.
Second by second, time ticked away.
When the timer finally hit "4", Nango moved.
So late… it can't be a drive.
He's going to shoot over me.
But is it a two—or a three?
Fukatsu followed step for step.
As they reached the three-point line, Nango suddenly stopped.
A three-pointer!
Fukatsu lunged forward, confident the referee wouldn't call a foul in this moment.
But—
Nango didn't shoot.
He hopped back on one foot.
Then rose.
The timer showed "1."
"Step-back three?!"
Fukatsu's heart sank.
There was nothing more he could do.
Bang!
Beep!
The ball slammed into the back of the rim and bounced high as the buzzer sounded.
Halftime.
"Ah!" Nango grabbed his head with both hands, frustration written all over his face.
It was just barely off.
"Phew…"
On the sidelines, Coach Domoto let out a long breath.
His heart felt like it had been dragged through a roller coaster.
Fortunately, Nango missed.
The deficit was only six points.
That—
Was still manageable.