Ryonan's Starting Lineup
Center: Uozumi, No. 5, 3rd Year
Small Forward: Sendoh, No. 7, 2nd Year
Power Forward: Ikegami Ryoji, No. 6, 2nd Year
Shooting Guard: Koshino Hiroaki, No. 8, 2nd Year
Point Guard: Uekusa Tomoyuki, No. 9, 2nd Year
Tsukubu's Starting Lineup
Center: Nango Koichiro, No. 15, 1st Year
Small Forward: Izumi Takashi, No. 5, 3rd Year
Power Forward: Mine Kenta, No. 8, 3rd Year
Shooting Guard: Godai Tomokazu, No. 4, 3rd Year (Captain)
Point Guard: Natsume Hiroshi, No. 7, 3rd Year
Thump… thump…
Two dull thuds echoed as Uozumi and Nango Koichiro launched upward at the same instant, their bodies like arrows loosed from a bowstring. Their arms extended fiercely, both reaching for the ball that hung momentarily at its peak.
Clap!
Their palms met the ball almost simultaneously, the collision sending it spinning higher.
On Ryonan's bench, eyes widened in surprise.
Aida Hikoichi gasped. "He's evenly matched with Uozumi-senpai?"
Coach Taoka Moichi's eyebrows twitched slightly as his sharp gaze fixed on the court.
He hadn't expected Nango—nearly ten centimeters shorter—to go toe-to-toe with Uozumi on the jump.
That single moment revealed Nango's impressive vertical leap and explosive power—far beyond what his stats had shown.
Only Ake sat unmoved, watching with quiet composure. He had already noticed Nango's athletic build and smooth coordination earlier. To him, this outcome was no surprise at all.
The ball descended again, and this time, a Tsukubu player reached it first.
Their point guard, Natsume Hiroshi, quickly gained control. Calm and steady, he faced Uekusa Tomoyuki's defense with an expression of pure focus.
Thump, thump…
The ball danced between his hands as he executed two rapid crossovers, throwing Uekusa off balance.
Spotting the opening, Natsume drove past him in a flash.
"What a quick crossover…" Uekusa thought, startled—but the surprise lasted only a moment.
Compared to Ake, this guy was still far behind.
Tsukubu's formation spread quickly as the rest of their players sprinted toward Ryonan's basket, executing their offense with seamless timing.
Sendoh turned sideways, ready to cut off the passing lane. But Natsume reacted instantly—his wrist flicked, and the ball bounced sharply off the floor, skipping under Sendoh's outstretched arm and landing cleanly in Nango Koichiro's hands inside the paint.
Nango braced his back against Uozumi's chest, muscles tensing as he tried to bulldoze forward.
"Out of the way… out of the way!" he shouted, pushing with all his might.
As he neared the rim, he spun and leapt, both hands rising for a layup—
"Annoying brat!" Uozumi bellowed, anger flaring. With a thunderous jump, he towered upward like an iron wall, his arm swinging down with brutal precision.
Slam!
The ball was crushed from Nango's grip and bounced hard off the floor.
Tsukubu's power forward, Mine Kenta, reacted first, scooping up the rebound. But the moment he saw Sendoh closing in, he changed plans—his wrist flicked, and the ball zipped out to the perimeter.
Swoosh!
It cut through the air like lightning, landing in Izumi Takashi's hands.
"Not good," Ryonan's players muttered under their breath.
Ikegami Ryoji charged forward instantly, trying to block the shot—but Izumi didn't shoot. With a smooth fake, he passed the ball across the arc to Godai Tomokazu.
The Tsukubu captain didn't hesitate. He caught, rose, and released in one fluid motion.
Uekusa lunged desperately to contest—but he was half a step too slow.
Swish!
The ball sliced through the air and dropped cleanly through the net.
Ryonan 0 – 3 Tsukubu.
Thunderous cheers erupted from the stands. Tsukubu's fans waved their arms and chanted in unison, their rhythm shaking the gymnasium walls.
"Tsukubu! Clap clap clap! Tsukubu! Clap clap clap! Tsukubu!"
On Ryonan's bench, the players murmured among themselves.
"What a fast pace."
"Their dribbling and passing are amazing—they slipped past Uekusa and Ikegami like it was nothing."
"They really are a Final Four team. Totally different level."
Coach Taoka nodded slightly, a hint of appreciation in his tone. "They might be shorter overall, but their speed and coordination make up for it. That passing play just now was textbook basketball."
Aida Hikoichi scribbled furiously in his notebook, still buzzing with excitement.
"Incredible! They're definitely worthy of being in the Final Four. If Tsukubu keeps this pace up, Ryonan's going to have a hard time!"
Coach Taoka chuckled quietly. "A hard time?"
He glanced at Ake, sitting calmly beside him, then turned back to the court with a knowing smirk.
"That might've been true for the old Ryonan. But now…"
On the court, Uozumi's roar split the air.
"Ahhh!"
Clang!
The basketball slammed through the hoop with violent force.
Ryonan 2 – 3 Tsukubu.
Tsukubu's players froze in disbelief. Ryonan's counterattack had been lightning fast—just seconds after the inbound, Uozumi's dunk exploded through their defense like a cannon blast.
"This damn monkey…" Nango muttered, clutching his chest as he glared at Uozumi. He had jumped to block but was thrown back by Uozumi's sheer power; his ribs still ached.
"Nango, you alright?" asked Godai, the captain, his voice low.
"I'm fine," Nango growled, gritting his teeth. "Didn't think that black ape would be that strong."
Godai's face hardened. He patted Nango's shoulder.
"Don't underestimate them. This is Ryonan—we can't treat them like the others."
"I know." Nango exhaled, his tone sharpening as he refocused on the game.
Play resumed. Both teams had now measured each other's strength, and the tempo shifted.
Tsukubu's offense became more methodical, blending their speed with sharper passing variations. Ryonan, in turn, tightened their defense, every player on alert.
The game turned into an intense tug-of-war.
Tsukubu's movement was seamless—their players weaved through Ryonan's defense like slippery fish, finding tiny gaps to exploit. Each pass hit its mark, followed by clean shots or clever layups.
Godai's three-pointers were deadly.
Natsume's mid-range jumpers kept landing.
Even Nango managed to power through Uozumi's defense on occasion for a few strong dunks.
But Ryonan struck back with raw toughness.
Despite Nango's athleticism, he was still slightly inferior to Uozumi, who had been trained personally by Ake.
Uozumi's footwork, use of balance, and defensive coverage had evolved—his timing impeccable. His blocks came like thunder, frustrating Nango's every move.
Outside, Sendoh's unpredictable play kept Tsukubu's defense spread thin. Sometimes he slashed into the paint, other times he faked from beyond the arc before draining a jumper.
Tsukubu couldn't fully collapse inside, and that opened lanes for Ryonan's interior coordination.
The ball went back and forth like a blade fight—fast, fierce, and unrelenting.
Every pass carried danger.
Every drive was a clash of strength and will.
The crowd's cheers rose and fell like waves, each big play followed by a collective gasp of "Whoa!"
The scoreboard ticked upward:
8–12.
17–18.
28–30…
With five minutes left in the first half, Tsukubu led 39–38.
On paper, the score looked close—but a keen eye could see the shift beneath the surface.
Nango was tiring fast. Each basket against Uozumi demanded tremendous effort. As fatigue crept in, Tsukubu's offense leaned more and more on their captain, Godai Tomokazu.
Meanwhile, Ryonan's offense remained steady and efficient. They had no sniper like Godai, but their mid-range and inside game were relentless.
Normally, a team trading 3-pointers for 2s would fall behind over time—but Ryonan's airtight defense kept flipping the script.
Every stop turned into a lightning counterattack, neutralizing Tsukubu's advantage.
Gradually, Tsukubu's rhythm faltered.
Godai's shots started to drift off target, his breathing labored.
From the sideline, Coach Kawasaki Kazumi narrowed his eyes, sensing the danger. He raised a hand toward the officials.
Beep!
Timeout—Tsukubu.