Time seemed to have its throat cut—frozen in place.
Then...
An uproar even more explosive than Uozumi's foul erupted, blasting the roof off the arena.
"Huh?!"
"What kind of stance is THAT?!"
"What is he doing—holding a chamber pot on the court?!"
"Hey, hey, hey! Is this a free throw or a circus act?!"
"That Shohoku guy—is he here to make people laugh?!"
In the stands, someone sprayed a mouthful of cola all over the person in front of him.
Even the referee froze, whistle hanging from his lips.
Over on Ryonan's side.
Koshino Hiroaki's jaw dropped wide enough to fit a lightbulb, his finger trembling wildly as he pointed at Sakuragi.
"F-from… below to above?!"
"What kind of cursed shooting form is that?!"
Even Sendoh Akira's usually calm and handsome face cracked for a second.
And yet.
Sakuragi Hanamichi paid no attention to the ridicule around him.
In his eyes, there was only that orange rim.
"Watch closely, you mortals."
"This is a genius's free throw!"
His knees drove upward, his arms following through in a "pouring" motion.
The movement looked ridiculous—like he was dumping water—
yet carried a strange, almost eerie smoothness.
The basketball launched from beneath him.
No spin.
It traced an absurdly high arc in the air, like a precision-guided missile, dropping straight toward the hoop.
Thousands of heads tilted upward in perfect unison, eyes tracking the ball.
At its peak...
then the descent...
Swish!
A crisp, beautiful sound of the net snapping rang out across the noisy arena.
Nothing but net.
The ball bounced lightly on the floor, almost as if mocking everyone who had doubted it.
The scoreboard flickered.
47:40.
Silence.
A deathly silence.
One second later—
the entire arena exploded.
"It went in?!"
"Holy—something like that actually scored?! It looked like he was dumping bathwater!"
"And it was a clean swish?!"
"That had to be luck, right?!"
"That's definitely luck! Where's Newton when you need him?!"
Sakuragi froze for a second in his "pouring water" pose.
Then suddenly sprang into motion, flashing his signature double "V" sign, shouting wildly toward the Shohoku bench:
"WAHAHAHAHA!"
"Did you see that, Old Man?! Juro?!"
"That's the touch of a genius!"
"Whether I shoot upside down or right-side up—I can make it!"
His maniacal laughter echoed through the arena, making people itch to punch him.
…
In the Kainan section.
Kiyota Nobunaga gripped the railing so hard it creaked, his worldview completely shattered.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
"That kind of shot goes in?! That's not even a proper shooting form!"
"What was the point of me practicing textbook form all these years?!"
Beside him, Maki Shinichi said nothing—
but the corner of his eye twitched violently.
This kind of unorthodox, rule-breaking style was the most troublesome.
Because it couldn't be predicted.
It didn't play by any rules.
…
Ryonan.
Fukuda Kicchou's usually expressionless face was now filled with curiosity.
He stared at the spot where Sakuragi had stood, unconsciously mimicking the motion with his hands.
From below… upward?
Using the knees to generate force transfer?
That does ensure a straight trajectory…
"FUKUDA! What are you doing?!"
Coach Taoka Moichi turned around—
and nearly had a stroke when he saw his starting forward imitating that "washbasin" shooting stance.
"Don't copy that idiot! That's heresy! HERESY!"
"Focus on the rebound, damn it!"
…
Shohoku's stands.
"Whew…"
Mito Yōhei finally swallowed his heart back down from his throat.
"As long as it goes in, who cares how he shoots…"
Takamiya Nozomi wiped the cold sweat off his forehead.
"With that look in his eyes earlier, I thought Hanamichi was about to turn Uozumi into sashimi."
Akagi Haruko clasped her hands together, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes—
yet her face bloomed with a radiant, angelic smile.
"That's wonderful… Sakuragi-kun really did it."
"I knew it—he's become a mature basketball player now."
"To stay calm and make free throws after such a malicious foul… he's really grown up."
Hearing that, the Sakuragi Gang exchanged looks and collectively shrank their necks.
Ohkusu Yūji muttered under his breath:
"Haruko-san… you're way too innocent."
"That guy isn't mature at all—he's definitely thinking about how to get revenge right now."
Noma nodded seriously.
"Exactly. Hanamichi's the type to settle scores on the spot…"
"The only reason he didn't throw hands is because he wants to look cool in front of Haruko-san."
Yōhei gave a wry smile.
"Either way… as long as he didn't start a fight, we're lucky."
…
On the court.
The referee tossed the ball back to Sakuragi.
Second free throw.
Sakuragi caught it, the playful grin vanishing instantly.
Once again, he assumed that infamous "washbasin" stance.
This time—
no one laughed.
Uozumi Jun stood under the basket like a towering wall, locking down position.
His gaze was dark, fixed on the ball in Sakuragi's hands.
He absolutely cannot make this one…
If even this goes in, where does Ryonan's pride go?
Sakuragi took a deep breath.
Maybe it was the thrill of the last shot going in...
or maybe he wanted to teach Uozumi an even harsher lesson—
but this time, he bent his knees deeper, and his arms swung with more force.
"Get in there!!!"
The ball left his hands.
But the moment it did—
Sakuragi's face changed.
"Crap! Too much force!"
The ball traced an even more exaggerated arc—but lost its soft touch.
Clang!
It smashed hard against the back rim.
The dull metallic sound echoed.
The ball bounced high into the air.
"Rebound!!!"
Akagi Takenori and Uozumi Jun roared at almost the same time.
Two prehistoric beasts clashed beneath the basket, muscles colliding with bone-jarring force.
"You're not getting it!!"
Eyes bloodshot, Uozumi used his weight advantage to shove Akagi half a step out of position.
Just as everyone thought the rebound was surely his—
A black bolt of lightning tore through the paint without warning.
Rukawa Kaede!
Like a lurking black panther, he slashed in from the side.
His takeoff speed was absurd—borderline cheating.
At the exact moment Uozumi's fingertips brushed the ball—
A pale yet explosively powerful hand appeared out of nowhere, snatching the ball right above his head!
"What?!"
Uozumi's eyes widened in shock.
Rukawa landed—and didn't hesitate for even 0.1 seconds.
"Stop him!!"
Sendoh Akira shouted, rushing in immediately.
Uozumi snapped back to his senses.
The two formed a pincer, clamping down on Rukawa like iron jaws.
Double team!
In such a tight space, facing the combined pressure of Ryonan's two aces—
anyone else would've forced a shot or called timeout.
But on Rukawa's cold, expressionless face...
not a ripple appeared.
If anything, a hint of mockery flashed in those narrow fox-like eyes.
At the instant the trap was about to close—
his wrist flicked subtly.
A no-look pass!
The ball slipped past Uozumi's waist like a scalpel, cutting cleanly through the defense.
Under the basket.
A broad, towering figure had already been waiting.
Akagi Takenori.
Wide open.
END OF CHAPTER
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