Hmm?
Ake had just stepped back onto the court. His gaze swept over the Shohoku players, and he instantly sensed something was off.
Compared to before the timeout, their aura had completely changed.
The confusion and impatience from the earlier scoring slump had vanished.
Shohoku had regained their composure.
Ake's eyes shifted toward the Shohoku bench, finally settling on Coach Mitsuyoshi Anzai, adjusting his glasses.
There was no doubt—Shohoku's sudden transformation was the work of the legendary Coach Anzai.
He truly lived up to his reputation. In such a short time, he had not only calmed the players but reignited their fighting spirit.
But after thinking about it, Ake found it perfectly reasonable.
Shohoku's players were not the type to give up easily. If they had really lost heart over such a small deficit, that would've been strange.
As soon as play resumed, both teams moved at the same time, quickly finding their defensive matchups.
Miyagi Ryota immediately sought out Ake.
Facing him again, Miyagi felt extremely wary.
This guy in front of him was definitely not as simple as he looked.
Who else could, with just casual passing and footwork, subtly shift the entire rhythm of a game?
Shohoku attacked.
Miyagi dribbled up the court. He threw a quick glance at Ake, then immediately passed the ball away.
He'd learned his lesson—he would avoid getting close to Ake unless absolutely necessary.
The memory of having the ball stolen out of nowhere was still painfully fresh.
Rukawa Kaede received the pass.
He attacked swiftly, sprinting toward Ryonan's basket.
Sendoh stuck close, ready to pressure him any moment.
Just before entering the three-point arc, Rukawa caught a glimpse of Sendoh's movement.
Suddenly, he slowed down, faked a right-side drive with his left hand, and shifted his body weight as if breaking left.
Sendoh fell for it, leaning his body to match.
But in the next breath, Rukawa dropped his wrist, switched the ball to his right hand, pivoted sharply on his left toe, and twisted his body like wringing a towel—then burst into the open space on Sendo's left.
The fake was fast and decisive.
Sendoh only saw a blur before falling half a step behind.
Even so, Sendoh's skill showed—his reaction was quick. He retreated half a step, extending his long arm, fingertips brushing dangerously close to Rukawa's ball, trying to disrupt the shot.
Rukawa felt the pressure from behind but didn't slow down. Instead, he accelerated, taking a long stride toward the free-throw line.
Uozumi was already stepping in to double-team, forming a pincer with Sendo.
Everyone thought Rukawa would pull up for a jumper; even Sendoh prepared to contest.
But at the peak of his motion, Rukawa suddenly pulled his wrist back and flicked the ball under his arm behind him.
He had already noticed Akagi cutting along the baseline.
The pass traveled low and fast, landing perfectly in Akagi's hands.
Without hesitation, Akagi jumped high, ready to dunk.
But Sendoh suddenly appeared in front of him.
He had abandoned his defense on Rukawa the instant the pass left Rukawa's hands and leaped toward Akagi.
Slam—
Akagi's dunk was pinned firmly against the backboard by Sendoh, and the ball ricocheted away.
But before Ryonan could even breathe—
Rukawa had already landed, sprinted forward, grabbed the rebound in mid-air, jumped again, leaned back to avoid the defender, and banked the ball cleanly into the hoop.
Upon landing, he stood face-to-face with Sendo.
Their chests rose and fell slightly, sweat dripping.
Sendoh let out a small smile.
"Not bad."
Rukawa, as usual, spoke little. He turned and simply said.
"I'll wait for you."
As Rukawa walked away, Sendoh's expression sharpened, a spark of fighting spirit flickering in his eyes.
"Interesting."
Offense switched.
Ake brought the ball up the court with calm, steady dribbles.
He paused at mid-court, scanning the floor like a precise radar.
Then—
His right hand suddenly dribbled harder, the ball hitting the ground with a heavy thump.
Miyagi's nerves tightened instantly, eyes locked onto Ake.
Ake shifted his weight right. His left hand slid under the ball—preparing for a front crossover.
From experience, Miyagi guessed it was a fake.
He slid half a step to the right, palm ready to block the cross.
But Ake's motion stopped mid-way.
He didn't cross over.
Instead, using the momentum of leaning right, his right toe pivoted sharply. His whole body spun clockwise like a top, his right hand shielding the ball the entire time—
And he slipped cleanly behind Miyagi.
The rhythm had completely broken.
Miyagi blinked, and Ake's figure vanished from in front of him.
When he turned to recover, he felt a light push on his lower back—Ake had already taken his position.
'How could this be…!?'
He had watched Ake's every move, guarded specifically against a fake, even braced himself mentally—
He guessed the beginning, but failed to guess the ending.
He never expected that turn.
Ake didn't give him time to adjust.
After completing the spin, he instantly accelerated, sprinting toward Shohoku's basket like an arrow leaving the bow.
He noticed a red figure rushing over from inside.
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Ake shifted his steps, subtly altering his rhythm.
As he reached the free-throw line, he suddenly bent his knees and leaped straight up, the ball raised overhead for a jumper.
Seeing this, Sakuragi also jumped with all his strength.
Arms spread wide like wings, he aimed to block the shot with everything he had.
But—
At the peak of their jumps—
Ake's movement changed again.
He didn't shoot.
He retracted the ball, flicking his wrist, sending a smooth pass toward the left side of the hoop.
'Huh?'
Sakuragi immediately sensed danger.
A white jersey flashed into view on the left—Fukuda Kiccho, perfectly cutting in.
He reached out, ready to receive the pass.
Just as the ball was about to touch his hands—
A red blur lunged from the side.
Fast—so fast it was barely an afterimage.
An arm shot forward, fingertips reaching for the ball.
Ake narrowed his eyes.
Rukawa Kaede.
But Ake's arm never wavered. His passing motion remained steady.
Everyone held their breath.
Spectators leaned forward.
Shohoku clenched their fists.
Even Rukawa himself believed he could steal it.
But—
Just as his fingertips brushed the edge of the ball—
Ake's wrist twitched.
Completely without warning.
The ball snapped away from its original trajectory, as if pulled by an invisible thread, redirecting behind Ake to the opposite side.
'What!?'
Rukawa's pupils shrank.
Shohoku froze.
Then disappointment washed over them.
Again… they couldn't steal it.
They looked toward the other side—Sendo had appeared there.
Akagi stepped forward, ready to intercept.
They all thought the same thing:
Now Ake is trapped.
Even the spectators muttered similar thoughts.
But then—
Just as the ball flew past Ake's side toward Sendoh—
Ake suddenly lifted his other arm, subtly bumping the ball with his elbow.
Thwack—
The ball flipped direction again, bouncing back toward its original path.
Nobody expected it.
Rukawa, already shifting to block Sendho, was now out of position.
The ball flew straight into Fukuda's hands.
And Fukuda didn't waste the chance.
Cutting in was his specialty.
He exploded upward, one hand gripping the ball, and slammed it hard into the rim.
Clang—
The hoop rattled violently.
Swish—
The ball dropped through.
And the stadium fell completely silent.