Coach Hayama frowned as he weighed his options against Nango.
Let's wait a little longer. Two baskets aren't enough to call a timeout yet. Hopefully, Oda and the others can adjust on their own.
Takezono launched another attack, this time avoiding Oda. They tried to dismantle Shohoku's defense with team play, hoping to create new scoring chances.
But Shohoku had never wavered from their man-to-man defense—no matter who they faced, no matter the lineup.
And even if their opponents slipped through, Shohoku always had a towering wall behind them—Akagi.
On Takezono's side, apart from Oda, no one else had the ability to break down the defense.
Trying to rely on off-ball movement? Impossible.
Nango's massive frame completely smothered Takezono's point guard. Just protecting the ball was a challenge, let alone finding the timing to pass.
The shot clock wound down, forcing a rushed attempt.
"Rebound!" Both teams' big men crashed under the basket.
"The rebound is mine!"
Sakuragi soared above the crowd, snatching the ball cleanly. With his hot streak on offense, Hanamichi's confidence exploded. His speed and hops were even more frightening than before.
Without hesitation, he fired a pass to Nango.
He didn't even need to call for it—Rukawa was already sprinting ahead.
Takezono's defenders couldn't keep up with Rukawa's cuts, leaving him wide open.
Nango hugged the ball tight, then launched a long pass down the court. The ball arced perfectly into Rukawa's hands. One smooth step, and—swish!
Shohoku scored far too easily. The basket crushed Takezono's morale, their energy plummeting.
Seeing Rukawa score lit a fire in Sakuragi.
"Nango! How could you pass to that stupid fox?!"
Nango just chuckled. "Relax, Sakuragi. Rukawa was in the best position. Of course I passed it to him. If you had that chance, I'd pass to you too. Don't worry."
He could barely hide his amusement. Sakuragi's rivalry with Rukawa really was something close to "true love."
Akagi, watching the bickering, couldn't even be bothered. In this game, he felt almost unnecessary—Shohoku would win easily even without him. So far, he had hardly set foot on Takezono's half of the court.
Years later, Akagi would learn from his game-loving son that this was called "lying down to win."
Mitsui had the same thought. What's the point of me starting? I can't keep up with those three rascals anyway. All I need to do is defend. Is Takezono too weak… or are these guys just too strong?
After pondering, Mitsui settled on the obvious answer—Takezono was too weak!
"Beep!"
Coach Hayama finally called timeout. The score gap wasn't yet insurmountable, but his players' spirits needed saving.
He looked at their slumped shoulders and raised his voice.
"The game's just started! It's only a six-point difference. Do you want to give up already?"
The players straightened slightly. Seeing their mood lift, Hayama pressed on.
"Oda, Shohoku's No. 13 is your responsibility. The rest of you, support him! Their entire offense runs through him. Cut off his connection, and Shohoku collapses."
"On offense, don't force offensive rebounds. Get back on defense in time."
"Spread the floor. Don't rush. Be patient!"
"Yes, Coach!"
The timeout worked—the team's morale reignited.
Up in the stands, the girls rallied too.
"We can't just sit here! The team's behind, but we can cheer them on!"
"Yes! Let's all cheer for Takezono!"
"Takezono, go! Takezono, go!"
Their synchronized cheers roared through the gym like a storm.
Shohoku's players stiffened. Most of them were first-years, with no real experience of such a heated atmosphere. Nerves crept in, and a few even swallowed hard.
"Tch, noisy." Mitsui, used to middle school tournaments, stayed calm.
Miyagi's thoughts wandered. Man, if only I had a squad of girls cheering for me like that…
Sakuragi just found it irritating.
Rukawa, ever indifferent, barely noticed.
Akagi held steady. He lacked experience, but he had watched enough games to keep his composure.
Nango? He was busy admiring the Takezono girls' faces one by one, as if feasting his eyes.
Shohoku didn't need much adjusting. At most, their reminder was simple: Stay focused. Don't slack off.
The timeout ended.
Takezono attacked again—but pep talks couldn't erase the gulf in skill. Their offense stalled. Another forced shot, another rebound—this time hauled in by Akagi. Finally, his stat line got something besides goose eggs.
Takezono retreated on defense quickly, denying Shohoku an easy fast break.
Nango, staring at Oda glued to him, noticed the others sneaking glances as well. He instantly understood Takezono's defensive plan.
He smirked and lured Oda to the right.
Oda scowled. What's he smiling at? Is he underestimating me? Damn it! I'll shut him down!
"You ever think about this?" Nango suddenly said. "If you're chasing me out here… who's guarding Akagi inside?"
Before Oda could react, Nango lobbed the ball into the paint. Akagi caught it in position and thundered down a dunk.
Only then did Takezono remember—this was the man who had carried Shohoku for the past two years.
Their defense collapsed into the paint, but that only opened space. Rukawa from mid-range. Mitsui from deep. Shohoku's offense exploded, passes from Nango slicing the defense to pieces. He hardly scored himself, but nearly every assist turned into points.
Takezono's offense, meanwhile, was reduced to giving the ball to Oda. But against Sakuragi's front defense and Nango's lurking help, Oda's success rate was abysmal.
As the score gap widened, reality sank in. Coach, players, fans—they all knew the truth. The game was already lost.
"Damn it! Damn it!! Damn it!!!" Oda bent over, hands on knees, teeth clenched. Self-loathing burned inside him as he watched his team crumble and could do nothing.
Worse, he had to admit—Sakuragi Hanamichi, the rookie, had been brilliant. The thought stung even deeper. He had once mocked Sakuragi, yet now he was losing to him.
Up in the stands, Yezi and the other girls who had cheered so hard for Oda broke into tears.
"Oda-kun! Waaah!"
Their voices cracked. They no longer had strength to cheer, only to cry.
"Please… please don't do this anymore! Don't hurt our players like this! Oda-kun!"
Even the toughest heart would soften at such cries.
But not Nango. On offense, he continued to feed open teammates. On defense, he doubled down relentlessly.
"Is this guy a demon?" Takamiya muttered.
Noma nodded. "So many girls crying, and he's still going all out… I can't even watch."
Akagi finally sighed. "Nango… maybe you should sit out a bit?"
Nango looked at the scoreboard—76 to 18. The slaughter was complete.
Yeah… that's enough.
With a faint grin, he agreed to Akagi's suggestion.
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