Kanagawa vs. Shizuoka.
On the court.
Both teams' players were in position.
Kanagawa's starting lineup:
Center, Hanagata Toru, 3rd year (Shoyo)
Small Forward, Kiyota Nobunaga, 1st year (Kainan)
Power Forward, Sakuragi Hanamichi, 1st year (Shohoku)
Shooting Guard, Hasegawa Kazushi, 3rd year (Shoyo)
Point Guard, Miyagi Ryota, 2nd year (Shohoku)
It was clear this lineup was something Takato Riki had carefully planned.
According to the data Shimizu Kanon had provided earlier, Shizuoka wasn't anything special among the teams. Slightly stronger than Hokkaido at most.
So to a powerhouse like Kanagawa, facing Shizuoka wasn't much different than their last match.
Looking at Shizuoka's starters, aside from Mikoshiba and Yubune, the rest were completely unfamiliar faces.
Especially their center. Standing next to Hanagata, he looked a full head shorter. Just based on that, Kanagawa clearly had the upper hand right from the tipoff.
Tweet—
The referee's whistle dropped like a pebble into still water, sending ripples across the court.
Hanagata and Shizuoka's center jumped almost at the same time, but in the air the difference was dramatic.
Hanagata's long arm extended like a mast, reaching half a head higher. His fingers flicked, sending the ball flying toward Miyagi Ryota like a trained bird.
Miyagi Ryota caught the ball. His sneakers screeched against the floor as he split the defense like lightning. He stopped just short, spun, and bounced the ball behind him.
It scraped past the defenders' fingertips and rolled clean into Kiyota Nobunaga's path.
Kiyota grinned wide, flashing cocky white teeth. His dribble sped up out of nowhere, weaving left and right like nobody was even there. In a blink, he was under the basket.
Bang—
As he launched off the floor, his jersey flapped violently in the air current.
With one arm cocked back, he slammed the ball into the hoop with a roar—right in front of the Shizuoka defenders' stunned faces.
The backboard rattled. The stands erupted.
Kanagawa landed the first blow just 8 seconds into the game.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on Kiyota Nobunaga.
No one expected that this seemingly scrawny 178cm, 1st-year kid could unleash such explosive force.
Even as the echo of the dunk still hung in the air, the crowd roared with disbelief.
That sheer shock factor hit everyone like a sudden thunderclap.
Mikoshiba stared at the fading figure. His face sank.
"So Kanagawa really has no weak links."
Somewhere deep inside, an invisible string tightened.
The match went on.
After Kanagawa opened with that crushing slam, Mikoshiba—the ace of Shizuoka—wasn't about to be outdone.
He charged toward Kanagawa's paint with his team in tow.
Hanagata stepped up to meet him, his towering frame forming a wall in front of the drive.
But Mikoshiba's offense was just as the data said—no glaring weaknesses.
His wrist flicked. The ball moved smoothly from fingertip to floor, shifting directions with each step. Fake after fake blurred Hanagata's timing.
In an instant, he broke through.
Radiating confidence, he bulldozed through Kanagawa's interior. Even with Sakuragi Hanamichi and Hasegawa Kazushi double-teaming him, he slammed into them, knocked them off balance, and rammed the ball through the rim.
CLANG—
The ball rattled through the hoop. The scoreboard ticked up.
Kanagawa 2 to 2 Shizuoka
Sakuragi and Hasegawa staggered backward, stunned and wide-eyed.
Mikoshiba tilted his chin up and swept his gaze across them, sneering.
"You should sub in someone sturdier. You two snap like bean sprouts."
That lit a fuse.
"You bastard, what did you say?!"
Sakuragi exploded. His fists clenched, jaw grinding, eyes blazing.
Hasegawa didn't speak much, but that didn't mean he didn't have a temper.
He glared daggers at Mikoshiba, face like stone.
The tension skyrocketed.
Next possession.
Sakuragi, eager to redeem himself, kept calling for the ball like a ticking time bomb.
Miyagi Ryota, knowing exactly how Sakuragi was, didn't even look his way. He passed to Kiyota sprinting ahead.
Sakuragi was furious.
"Oi, Miyagi! You passed to that monkey?! Whose side are you on, huh?! You traitor!"
Miyagi was already on edge from dealing with him all game. His temple twitched.
He whipped around and snapped, "Who the hell are you calling a traitor?!"
"You! You! YOU!"
Sakuragi nearly poked Miyagi in the nose, like an angry rooster.
Miyagi spun back around and ignored him completely.
Sakuragi paused, dumbfounded.
Then his face twisted.
Clicking his tongue, his eyes lit up as he spotted Kiyota tearing up the court with the ball.
Without another word, he pushed off the floor like he had springs in his feet. His sneakers screeched against the hardwood as he blasted forward.
The Shizuoka player guarding him didn't react at all, just watched in shock as that flash of red streaked past like a bolt from a crossbow, nearly biting his tongue from surprise.
Sakuragi Hanamichi, moving with ridiculous speed, caught up to the sprinting Kiyota Nobunaga in just a few breaths.
Kiyota glanced sideways, surprised to see Sakuragi.
'What the hell is this red-haired monkey trying to pull now?'
Kiyota drove hard into Shizuoka's paint.
Just as he was about to jump and slam it, Mikoshiba suddenly appeared out of nowhere, cutting him off.
Kiyota's forward momentum stalled. He clutched the ball to his chest and clicked his tongue.
"Pretty fast, huh."
"Oi, wild monkey! Pass!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi's loud voice boomed from behind.
Kiyota's face instantly darkened.
"You damn red-haired monkey… Who are you calling a wild monkey?!"
But he didn't delay. With a flick of the wrist, he bounced the ball behind him.
The ball scraped past Mikoshiba's fingertips and landed in Hanagata's palm with a loud smack.
Hanagata immediately bent his knees and gathered power. As he pivoted, he jumped and released the ball all in one fluid motion.
Whoosh…
The ball arced gracefully through the air.
Swish…
It sank clean into the net.
Kanagawa 4 to 2 Shizuoka
Right from the start, the game fell into a back-and-forth rhythm.
Kanagawa and Shizuoka traded attacks. One side scored with a driving layup off the glass. The other answered with a pull-up jumper that swished clean.
The scoreboard ticked up on both sides, neck and neck.
But that balance didn't last.
Shizuoka's Yubune made three shots in a row early on, almost pulling them ahead.
Kanagawa quickly adjusted their defense, clamping down on Yubune hard.
And just like Shimizu Kanon said in the pre-game report, his shooting percentage plummeted.
Meanwhile—
Mikoshiba ran into trouble.
Sakuragi Hanamichi was even more annoying than he expected.
Sure, he wasn't stronger than Mikoshiba. But his stamina seemed bottomless. He never stopped buzzing around in Mikoshiba's face. It was unbearable.
Mikoshiba tried multiple times to shake him with speed. But no matter how many direction changes he made, that red hair kept popping up in his peripheral vision.
Within minutes, several of Mikoshiba's strong drives had to be reworked mid-air due to Sakuragi's close pressure. Every landing left him gasping for breath.
Sweat dripped from his chin, his jersey stuck to his back. He could literally feel his energy draining.
On yet another drive, Mikoshiba gritted his teeth and jumped to dunk. But his arm was so tired the ball nearly slipped from his fingers.
It clanked around the rim before falling in. The scoreboard ticked up, but Mikoshiba staggered on the landing.
His legs felt like they were filled with lead.
Across the court, Sakuragi wiped sweat and gave him a big dumb grin—still full of energy. That bottomless stamina made a wave of frustration bubble in Mikoshiba's chest.
Time passed with the squeak of sneakers and pounding feet.
Kanagawa's offense surged like a rising tide. The scoreboard numbers flipped like windblown pages, stretching the gap wider and wider.
Mikoshiba could only watch helplessly.
By halftime, the score was frozen in place:
Kanagawa 44 to 26 Shizuoka
An 18-point deficit slammed into Mikoshiba like a hammer, nearly knocking him off his feet.
He was already rattled after losing badly to Morishige Hiroshi before.
Now, against an incomplete Kanagawa lineup, this was the result?
His barely stabilized mindset cracked again.
And right then, during halftime, Shimizu Kanon reminded the team to exploit Mikoshiba's fragile mentality in the second half.
If Mikoshiba fully broke down, Shizuoka would no longer be a threat.
The whole room shuddered at her words.
A devil.
A pure, unfiltered devil.
Who'd guess this sweet-looking girl could speak with such frosty precision, each word like an icicle.
But looking at her clear tactical breakdown, no one could argue.
Second half. Kanagawa made substitutions.
Point Guard: Miyagi Ryota off, Maki Shinichi on.
Shooting Guard: Hasegawa Kazushi off, Shinomiya Ichirou on.
Center: Hanagata Toru off, Akagi Takenori on.
Small Forward and Power Forward stayed the same.
With Maki Shinichi on the court, Kanagawa opened the half with ferocious momentum.
Shizuoka couldn't hold back the flood.
Maki sliced through them repeatedly. Akagi blocked every attempt inside. Shinomiya rained down jumpers from deep.
Mikoshiba could only watch, jaw tight.
His mental wall, already full of cracks, finally crumbled.
By the final minutes, he completely broke down.
Shizuoka's offense and defense collapsed.
BZZZT—
The final buzzer rang.
Mikoshiba slumped onto the court, staring blankly at the scoreboard's brutal numbers.
Kanagawa 114 to 48 Shizuoka
A 66-point blowout.
Second match—Kanagawa crushed Shizuoka with overwhelming force.