"Ha—ah!"
Akagi and Kawata leaped simultaneously as the referee tossed the ball into the air, officially signaling the start of the second half.
From the first-half jump ball, Akagi had already realized one thing clearly—Kawata's vertical leap was superior to his. So this time, he had no intention of trying to secure the ball himself. Instead, he stretched his fingertips and slapped the basketball as far away as possible.
Kawata, on the other hand, was determined to control the tip and attempted to flick the ball forward.
With both of them exerting force in opposite ways, the basketball bounced toward Sannoh's side.
Matsumoto reacted quickly, sliding under the basket to grab it before immediately passing to Fukatsu.
Sannoh Industrial had the first possession of the second half.
Shohoku returned with their starting lineup—their strongest possible formation. Sannoh did the same.
If neither team made substitutions, the next twenty minutes would be a brutal test of stamina.
But none of the ten players complained.
After all, if they won this game, the summer would belong to them.
As soon as play resumed, Kawata didn't head into the paint. Instead, he stationed himself directly at the three-point line, setting a screen for Fukatsu before rolling down hard.
Using the brief gap between Akagi and Nango, Fukatsu threaded a sharp pass inside.
Kawata caught it cleanly and pulled up from mid-range.
Swish.
Two points.
Shohoku's players exchanged glances.
So they really are running pick-and-rolls now.
Just as expected.
Switching sides, Nango calmly brought the ball up the court. It wasn't until he crossed half-court that Fukatsu stepped forward to defend him. Aside from that, Sannoh showed no additional defensive adjustments.
Kiyota frowned slightly.
"Why isn't Sannoh double-teaming Nango anymore?"
Coach Takato speculated aloud,
"It's probably because of that last shot before halftime. Domoto's likely betting that Nango's shooting has cooled down. If that's the case, there's no need to double."
If that really was the reasoning, it was a risky gamble.
Even one-on-one, Nango still held a clear advantage over Fukatsu. Why not assign Sawakita instead?
Maki didn't voice his thoughts, choosing to observe silently.
Nango himself was also puzzled—but an opportunity was an opportunity.
He dribbled slowly toward Sawakita, then suddenly exploded forward, pushing off with his right foot. Using his terrifying burst, he blew past Fukatsu and rose up beyond the three-point line for a pull-up jumper.
The moment the ball left his fingertips, Nango felt it.
Too much.
His jump was slightly higher than usual, and his right index finger had applied excess force.
"Rebound!" he shouted immediately.
At the same time, he thought grimly, Learning from Curry isn't that simple… I need to adjust first.
Bang!
Coach Domoto clenched his fist hard. For now, his gamble had paid off.
As the shot missed, both Big and Little Kawata immediately turned to box out the Shohoku players. Worse yet, the ball floated toward Little Kawata's side, forcing Akagi and Kawata to crash in that direction as well.
Four bodies collided under the basket.
Damn it… I can't grab this!
Among the four, Sakuragi was the shortest. Fighting for rebounds against three powerhouses put him at a clear disadvantage. Normally, he relied on positioning and explosive jumping—but this time, his position was poor.
His eyes sharpened.
Then there's only one way!
Before the ball even descended into a normal rebounding range, Sakuragi sprang upward, stretching over Little Kawata's massive frame and violently slapping the ball toward the backboard.
The sudden move caught everyone off guard.
Bang!
The ball struck the glass and bounced back.
Sakuragi jumped again—and secured it.
Before Little Kawata could even turn around, Sakuragi dribbled straight into the paint, leaping high for a dunk.
Bang!
Little Kawata was late—but Big Kawata was not.
He rotated in time and crushed the attempt with a powerful block.
The ball fell into Akagi's hands.
Without hesitation, Akagi exploded upward and slammed down a two-handed dunk.
The possession itself wasn't flashy—but someone had already taken note.
"Damn it… that cursed bald gorilla!"
Having his dunk blocked at point-blank range, Sakuragi was both furious and embarrassed.
Nango patted his shoulder and smiled.
"Defend properly first. You'll get your moment later."
"Really?" Sakuragi looked doubtful. He and Akagi had spent most of the game rebounding and defending, with few offensive chances.
"Of course," Nango replied lightly. "You'll see."
He didn't explain further.
That only made Sakuragi more curious.
Fukatsu brought the ball past half-court—and immediately noticed something different.
The defender in front of him wasn't Nango.
It was Mitsui.
Fukatsu quickly scanned the court.
Kawata hovered near the three-point line, ready to set a screen. Nango lurked nearby, waiting.
Inside, Little Kawata was still wrestling with Akagi for position—but just like before, he couldn't reach his preferred scoring spots.
On the wing, Matsumoto tried to shake Sakuragi, but it was useless. Sakuragi stuck to him like glue.
Sawakita was calling for the ball—but Fukatsu ignored him.
For the first time, Fukatsu hesitated.
After a brief pause, he decided to probe with a pick-and-roll.
Using Kawata's screen, Fukatsu shook off Mitsui—but before he could advance, Nango spread his arms wide and stepped in aggressively.
Forced to pull back, Fukatsu hesitated—
And in that instant, Mitsui slipped around Kawata and closed in.
A double-team.
With Mitsui's support, Nango became relentless. He used his body to compress space, his hands flashing constantly—high, low—disrupting Fukatsu's rhythm.
One-on-one, Mitsui could be beaten by speed or stamina.
But as a helper?
His experience and court sense shone.
He covered everything Nango couldn't, sealing every escape route.
One stood 194 cm tall.
The other, 184 cm.
Together, they formed an iron wall.
The 180 cm Fukatsu had nowhere to go.
Forced into a dead stop, he hugged the ball tightly and signaled for a timeout.
"Damn it…"
Fukatsu clenched his fist as he walked back to the bench.
This was the first time he had been pushed into such a predicament.
On the other side, Akagi curved his lips into a rare smile and teased,
"Looks like you don't need to worry about stamina anymore."
"Hmph!" Mitsui puffed out his chest proudly.
"Of course! I'm Mitsui Hisashi—a man born for the big stage!"
Strong offense lifted morale.
But strong defense?
It did the same.
Shohoku had taken a perfect first step in the second half.