Step…
Step…
Two solid thuds rang out at once.
Uozumi and Hokkaido's center jumped at the same time, both reaching for the falling basketball.
Uozumi kept his eyes locked on the ball's arc, catching a glimpse of Hokkaido's center's tense jawline in his peripheral vision.
The moment his fingertips brushed the ball, Uozumi exploded with strength and tipped it toward Fujima Kenji. The latter was already waiting beyond the three-point line in the shadows. He caught it, turned, and passed—all in one smooth motion.
Jin Soichiro caught the ball in the corner. By the time Hokkaido's defender rushed over, it was already too late.
He flicked his wrist lightly. The ball traced a perfect arc and dropped into the hoop.
Swish—
The ball hit the net.
The digital scoreboard instantly updated.
Kanagawa 3 – 0 Hokkaido
The stands erupted like a tidal wave of cheers.
Kiyota Nobunaga shouted from the bench, "Jin-senpai, nice shot!"
Transitioning to defense.
Now Hokkaido had possession.
Their first offense looked completely flustered. The point guard, hounded by Sendoh's tight pressure, almost turned the ball over twice before hurriedly dumping it inside.
Uozumi stretched out his arms and blocked the lane like an immovable tower. The moment Hokkaido's center collided into him, it felt like hitting a reinforced wall of concrete and steel. The ball bounced out of bounds.
"Solid defense," Taoka Moichi nodded in approval.
Meanwhile, Anzai Mitsuyoshi leisurely sipped hot tea from his cup, totally at ease.
Seven minutes into the first half.
Rukawa Kaede stood behind the three-point line, scanning the nervous faces of Hokkaido's defenders.
As Fujima Kenji passed him the ball, three defenders instantly closed in.
His expression didn't change. Calm as ever.
In the next second, he flicked his wrist and threaded a pass through the gap between defenders. The ball dropped into Uozumi's hands under the basket, who finished with a soft hook shot.
From then on, the game was a complete one-sided show of dominance by Kanagawa.
No matter the position, Hokkaido couldn't keep up.
The game turned into a highlight reel for Kanagawa.
Which was no surprise.
Kanagawa was now the hottest seeded team in the nation.
When the halftime buzzer sounded, the scoreboard read 38 to 11.
Kanagawa led by 27 points.
The crowd was stunned.
They knew Kanagawa would win—but not like this. Not with this massive lead after just the first half.
The Hokkaido players trudged back to the bench, heads hung low.
Kanagawa's side? Everyone was wearing a relaxed smile.
Time flew. In the blink of an eye, the second half began.
Kanagawa made some substitutions.
At Small Forward, Rukawa Kaede was subbed out for Sendoh Akira.
At Shooting Guard, Jin Soichiro was replaced by Mitsui Hisashi.
Right from tip-off, Hokkaido tried to shift their formation to close the gap. But they slammed headfirst into Kanagawa's airtight defense.
Fujima Kenji, like a chess master, controlled the rhythm from his fingertips. One fake sent his defender flying. Then he threaded a surgical pass to Mitsui Hisashi in the corner.
Mitsui didn't even have to reset his stance—just raised his hands and sank a smooth three-pointer.
Swish—
Another 3 points for Kanagawa.
Midway through the second half, Aoi Kunisaku was subbed in.
That's when the nightmare truly began for Hokkaido.
The moment he entered, Kanagawa's tempo skyrocketed. Hokkaido couldn't even tell what jersey number he wore before he'd already slammed it in their face.
On a fast break, Aoi Kunisaku faced a double block mid-air.
He twisted his body, used his Formless Shot, and released the ball with one hand. It slipped past both defenders and dropped cleanly through the hoop.
Aoi Kunisaku once again showed what it meant to be an "unblockable scoring king."
Sakuragi Hanamichi finally got subbed in near the end of the match, and the moment he stepped on court, it was like someone flipped a switch on a motor.
First, he muscled through three defenders for a rebound, his landing thudding like a drum.
Then he sprinted on a fast break, caught a bounce pass from Fujima Kenji, and leapt into a thunderous dunk straight from a standstill.
"I'm the Rebound King, Sakuragi Hanamichi!" he shouted in wild glee, full of himself on the court.
On the bench, Kiyota Nobunaga rolled his eyes so hard it looked like they might get stuck.
"Give me a break, he just caught a pass and dunked it. What's so special about that, you arrogant idiot?" he grumbled, grinding his teeth.
In the rest of the match, Hokkaido kept calling timeouts.
But they just couldn't find a way out.
Kanagawa's defense was like a steel cage. Their offense flowed like mercury.
Sendoh did a post-up, faked out the defender, then suddenly sent a between-the-legs pass to Mitsui Hisashi, who was waiting beyond the three-point line.
Mitsui caught it and shot in one motion.
The basketball traced a graceful arc in mid-air before landing clean through the hoop.
Swish—
A clean shot.
The scoreboard ticked again.
Kanagawa 82 to 21 Hokkaido
With 3 minutes left on the clock, despair was written all over Hokkaido's players' faces.
Even the referee cast a sympathetic glance at their sweat-drenched backs.
Three minutes passed.
The final whistle cut through the heavy air like a blade.
The scoreboard locked into place.
Kanagawa 98 to 34 Hokkaido
A full 64-point gap.
On the first day of the Autumn National Athletic Meet, Kanagawa crushed everyone with an overwhelming performance.
The result spread quickly to every participating team.
Each representative team started treating Kanagawa even more seriously. Their players felt the pressure rise sharply.
The next day.
Kanagawa's opponent was Shizuoka.
During pre-game prep, Shimizu Kanon held a thick file of documents and began briefing the team on Shizuoka's players. She emphasized two names in particular.
"Mikoshiba. He's the captain of Jousei High School's basketball team and the number one player in Shizuoka. He's got no major weaknesses on offense. He's strong in post scoring and also has decent range. On defense, he's got good stealing skills and excellent help defense awareness. His passing and vision are solid, and his game-reading ability is strong. He adjusts strategy depending on matchups and teammates. In short, he's an all-rounder. But his ability to shut down an ace is weak, his shooting percentage is just average, and he's not a strong core."
Everyone nodded in understanding at her explanation.
Shimizu Kanon continued, "Also, during the last national tournament, Mikoshiba was crushed by Morishige Hiroshi from Meihou. It hit him hard. But it looks like he's recovered now."
The room froze for a second.
Sendoh scratched his head. "You even know stuff like that?"
Uozumi rubbed his chin and analyzed, "In that case, he's not much. Someone who can't hold it together mentally isn't worth worrying about."
Jin Soichiro nodded in agreement. "Exactly."
Shimizu Kanon went on, "Another one to watch is their three-point shooter, Yubune. He doesn't have any standout skills. But his shooting percentage is ridiculously high. He's the type whose accuracy doesn't drop unless you disrupt his form. So just make your defensive movements big and exaggerated. That'll be enough."
Once she finished, the room went dead silent like someone had hit pause.
The air froze.
Everyone was still digesting what they'd just heard.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Damn.
Yesterday's Hokkaido briefing was still fresh in everyone's mind. Now Shizuoka was getting dissected the same way—down to the bone.
No room to breathe. No room to fight back.
It was clear, precise, and ruthless.
Everyone except the original Shohoku players turned their gaze to Shimizu Kanon.
In their eyes were layers of emotion—confusion, fear, and awe.
Everyone had the same thought:
'Going up against someone like her feels like walking into a pitch-black tunnel.
There's no light.
No hope of winning.
It's just terrifying.'
Standing off to the side, Taoka Moichi and Takato Riki watched everything unfold.
Their expressions were even more serious.
Pure shock.
They were both seasoned coaches. It didn't take much for them to imagine the kind of nightmare it would be if their own teams ever faced Shohoku again.
Tactics exposed. Players suppressed.
Before the game even started, they'd already lost most of it.
Their eyes met for a moment.
In that glance, they didn't need to speak a single word.
The bitterness, the helplessness, and the looming dread were all understood.