Beep…
The whistle blew.
Tsukubu called a timeout.
At that point, just over three minutes had passed since the game began.
The score held at 8 to 10.
Tsukubu was leading Shohoku by two points.
But everyone knew—Tsukubu was the one on the back foot now.
On Tsukubu's bench, Coach Kawasaki Kazumi stared seriously at his players.
He had to find a way to flip the current situation.
But that number 9 from the other team was proving to be a real headache.
What to do?
"I didn't think that number 9 had something like that up his sleeve," Izumi Takashi said in disbelief.
Mine Kenta followed up, "Yeah! That shot was totally unfair!"
Nango Koichiro sat looking constipated, mumbling non-stop, "Damn it! Why's that guy so strong?"
Godai Tomokazu clenched his fists and stepped in front of the team, raising his voice, "The match's only just begun. It's just one guy. We've got no reason to fear him. As long as we keep scoring, we'll win!"
Then Coach Kawasaki Kazumi spoke up, "That's right. The match just started. That number 9 is definitely surprising. But I noticed something—he never passes. Every time, he goes solo. So once he gets the ball, we need multiple people collapsing on him. Shrink his space, especially near the paint."
The team's eyes lit up at his words. Their shaken morale steadied again.
Everyone answered in unison, "Yes!"
…
On Shohoku's bench—
Shimizu Kanon smiled gently, her eyes curved in delight. She spoke softly to Aoi Kunisaku, "You're doing great today. That shot you made just now—I haven't seen you use that in ages."
Aoi unscrewed his water bottle and chugged a few gulps, then set it down and snorted. "Hmph… They're just a little better than the last few teams."
Shimizu Kanon nodded slightly. "Still, they did make top eight last year. They've got skills."
Aoi placed the bottle aside, stood up, and his gaze turned sharp and bold. "Top eight? Doesn't even count as warm-up."
Elsewhere, Sakuragi Hanamichi clung to Coach Anzai like a leech.
His face was full of urgency as he shouted, "C'mon, old man! Let me play! We're already behind! Those guys are useless! Let me break through!"
Hohohoho…
Coach Anzai smiled warmly, listening quietly without replying.
Sakuragi blinked his big eyes. Seeing no response, he pressed on, "Old man, are you even listening?! Sub out Rukawa or Aoi, I don't care which!"
Hohohoho…
Still smiling, still silent.
Sakuragi's brow twitched. Trying to hold in his frustration, he raised his voice, "Stop with the 'hohoho' already!"
Coach Anzai slowly turned his head, looking at Sakuragi with a calm expression.
Sakuragi immediately dropped the whining. His face grew more serious, eyes full of hope, staring straight at the coach.
They held that stare for a long time. The air grew tense.
Then suddenly, Coach Anzai broke into another grin.
Hohohoho…
Sakuragi completely lost it.
His face flushed red with rage, and he rammed his head into Coach Anzai's.
"DAMN IT! I SAID STOP LAUGHING LIKE THAT!"
Whack!
Ayako ran over and smacked Sakuragi on the head with her paper fan. "Calm down! And don't you dare headbutt the coach!"
…
Beep…
The whistle blew again. Timeout was over.
The game resumed.
As Aoi Kunisaku stepped onto the court, he instantly sensed a shift in Tsukubu's energy. "Oh? Adjusted that quick?"
His lips curled up, flashing a crooked grin. "Now it's fun. Otherwise, this would've been way too boring."
Tsukubu's ball.
Right from the inbound, Shohoku noticed something different.
Tsukubu's players were keeping a precise distance from Aoi—not too far, not too close. Close enough to close in fast, but far enough to slip away if needed.
They were trying to limit Aoi's attack without direct confrontation.
But their plan backfired.
That kind of tactic might work against regular players—but against Aoi Kunisaku, it was like ants trying to shake a tree.
"Cheap tricks." Aoi sneered, full of contempt.
Tsukubu's players moved with tight coordination, quickly swinging the ball into Shohoku's paint.
Nango Koichiro caught it and used his body to pin Akagi Takenori behind him.
A nasty grin spread across his face. He shouted and leapt, going for a brutal Slam Dunk. "This one's mine!"
But at that exact moment—
Smack!
The sharp slap echoed, and Nango's grin froze.
The ball vanished from his hands. A basketball shot up into his field of view from below.
No way!
He whipped his eyes toward the side and saw a flash of red.
He turned his head, and his pupils shrank—
That big, bold 9 on the red jersey.
It was him.
No doubt about it—Aoi Kunisaku had appeared out of nowhere and swatted the ball.
With the Steal secured, Aoi didn't hesitate. He exploded forward at full speed.
Like red lightning, he shot through Shohoku's crowded paint in a blur.
"Stop him!" Godai Tomokazu shouted, alarmed.
Tsukubu's players tried to react, but it was already too late.
All they could see was a red streak blasting past.
They could only watch his back fade away—no chance to catch up.
"Damn…" Godai cursed under his breath, but there was nothing he could do.
With no one left in front, Aoi cut straight through.
He jumped high, grabbed the rim with both hands, and slammed it down hard. Dunk complete.
The scoreboard changed again.
Shohoku 10, Tsukubu 10.
The game continued.
Tsukubu launched another fierce offense, charging toward Shohoku's defense.
Godai Tomokazu reached out, calling for the ball with a firm look in his eyes. He was clearly ready to drive forward himself.
As soon as the ball landed in his hands, his body tensed up.
It felt like some beast had locked onto him.
"What's going on? Am I just too nervous?"
He fought down the unease and tried to steady his nerves.
Just as he was about to take a step and dribble, his teammates shouted in alarm.
"Godai... watch out...!"
The moment he heard that, he froze.
In that brief pause, a figure appeared in front of him—it was Aoi Kunisaku.
Cold sweat poured down Godai's face. Beads as big as beans rolled down his cheeks.
That was close. One more second and the ball would've been stolen.
Facing Aoi Kunisaku, who stood like a wall in his path, Godai felt crushing pressure.
"Why does he make me feel this way? There's no way I can get past him."
After a brief stare-down, Godai gave up on forcing the breakthrough and chose to pass.
He swung his arm, sending the ball toward Natsume Hiroshi.
Just as he relaxed, he saw something that made his face twist in panic.
Aoi Kunisaku darted out like a red flash, stretched out an arm, and intercepted the pass cleanly.
Smack—
That crisp sound hit Godai's ears like a devil's whisper.
"No way. He stole it? I'd barely even let go. My hand hasn't even pulled back yet."
Godai cursed a storm in his head.
He clenched his teeth and lunged forward, desperate to recover.
But before he could move, his pupils shrank in shock.
Aoi had already turned his wrist mid-air and, with one smooth spin, did a full 360-degree turn, slipping past to the other side.
He completely dodged Godai and broke through the defense.
"Damn it… damn it… damn it…" Godai cursed through gritted teeth, helpless as Aoi blew past.
Seeing Godai lose the ball, the rest of Tsukubu scrambled to react.
Nango Koichiro was closest. He rushed up, shouting loudly, "Aoi Kunisaku—look at me—"
Aoi's eyes flashed sharp. He cut him off with a cold tone, "You're free to like whoever you want. But there's one thing—I'm really pissed off."
Bounce... bounce... bounce...
The ball echoed off the floor, sharp and fast like a snare drum.
Aoi stood outside the three-point line, brimming with swagger and confidence.
He bent slightly, lowered his center of gravity, and the ball danced on his fingertips like part of his body.
Nango stepped in fast, arms outstretched, trying to seal off his path.
His gaze locked on Aoi. He knew how fast he was. He didn't dare slack off.
But Aoi just gave a cocky smirk, a hint of challenge behind it.
The next instant, he launched forward like a released arrow.
Too fast to track with the eye.
The ball spun wildly in his hand. The impact rhythm on the hardwood hit peak tempo. Pop pop pop pop pop...
Nango's eyes went wide. He pushed his body to the limit and spun to keep up.
But Aoi's footwork was just too sharp. His moves came like illusions, with sudden shifts in pace and direction.
The ball danced—left hand to right, then back through the legs—completely unpredictable.
The distance between them kept shrinking. The two blurred across the court, creating a breeze in their wake.
Just as Nango thought he might be catching up, Aoi slammed to a halt and twisted his body.
The ball circled behind his back—a slick behind-the-back dribble.
One smooth motion. Lightning-fast.
Nango, caught in his own momentum, shot forward.
He lost his balance and hit the ground, limbs flailing.
Meanwhile, Aoi used the gap to burst ahead like a red streak, tearing through the defense.
His body zipped past like a phantom, while Nango lay stunned on the court.
Aoi charged into Tsukubu's paint again, stomped down, and launched upward.
With unstoppable power, he hammered in a tomahawk dunk.
BANG—
The thunderous slam echoed through the entire arena.
The ball sank in.
Shohoku added another 2 points.
BOOM—
The crowd exploded.
The moment Aoi blew past Nango with that blazing dribble, the entire gym ignited like fire.
Fans leapt to their feet, eyes wide, mouths hanging open like they could fit an egg, screams pouring from their throats.
Maki Shinichi's eyes stretched wide. His calm, unshakable expression cracked.
He stared at Aoi, full of shock and disbelief.
That terrifying speed…
What kind of monster is this guy?
As Kanagawa's reigning king, Maki had faced countless strong players. But Aoi's dribble just shattered all his expectations.
Sendoh Akira's laid-back look had vanished. In its place: focus and awe.
He was always chill, but what Aoi just pulled off had shaken him deep down.
Fujima Kenji, usually composed and sharp, looked totally stunned.
His brow was furrowed. That shock still lingered in his eyes. Who knows what was running through his mind?
One look made it clear—his mind was no longer calm.
Hanagata Toru beside him was the same. Jaw dropped, eyes filled with dread.
He'd never seen dribbling this insane.
What kind of dribble was that?