Tap…
Tap…
The wooden floor echoed twice with heavy thuds, as if thunder rumbled underfoot.
All eyes turned toward the sound.
Two towering figures launched off the ground almost at the same time.
Their knees bent, muscles beneath their jerseys tensed into steel-like arcs.
Their sneakers screeched against the floor.
Both palms reached for the ball in midair.
Just as Uozumi's hand brushed the grooves on the ball, Morishige Hiroshi's palm came crashing down with a gust of force.
Smack—
A deep, heavy sound rang out.
Both hands slapped the ball at the same time.
For a moment, the two looked like statues locked in midair.
Even the air seemed crushed by the pressure.
But Uozumi's pupils shrank in an instant the moment they connected.
The power coming from the ball felt like a wild beast.
His palm tingled, and he could hear a faint creak from his wrist bone.
Before he could adjust his force, Morishige Hiroshi let out a low grunt.
His forearm bulged like jagged rock, and the pressure from his palm surged up another notch.
Boom—
The second impact struck everyone's ears like a hammer.
Uozumi watched helplessly as his hand got swatted away.
His fingers barely scraped the ball before his whole body wobbled midair.
He landed hard, his heel dragging a half-circle mark on the court.
He had to step back just to stay upright.
Morishige Hiroshi had secured the ball.
Tap—
Uozumi stared at Morishige, his throat bobbing twice.
The shock in his eyes hadn't faded.
The force from that earlier collision still burned his palm like red-hot iron.
"So strong…"
His pupils contracted, and a hint of awe slipped through.
His sharp gaze turned grim.
That single clash had told him everything.
He probably wasn't this guy's match.
That overwhelming strength made cold sweat bead on his back.
'So this is who you faced… Akagi…'
Uozumi couldn't stop Akagi Takenori's face from flashing through his mind.
He remembered that Akagi had fought Morishige before.
He had originally hoped to show Akagi how cleanly he could crush Morishige,
prove that he was the stronger one.
But instead, the moment the match started, he got smacked down.
That slap echoed loud and clear.
Thankfully, he hadn't bragged aloud before the game.
Otherwise, he'd have no face left.
Morishige Hiroshi tipped the ball intentionally, and it landed in Aichi's point guard's hands.
Even earlier, the moment Morishige tapped the ball,
Moroboshi Dai had already taken off like an arrow from the bow.
His figure blurred into a gust of wind, sprinting toward Kanagawa's basket.
Aichi's point guard saw this and didn't hesitate.
He wound up his arm and hurled the ball hard toward the hoop.
None of Kanagawa's players expected such a bold full-court pass right from the jump.
They were totally caught off guard, frozen for a split second.
The basketball sliced through the air, trailing a streak of orange across the court.
Whether it was a perfectly timed pass or Moroboshi's positioning,
the ball dropped cleanly into his hands—no deviation.
The moment Moroboshi caught it, he jumped off one foot and glided through the air.
He cradled the ball and slammed it toward the rim.
Kanagawa had already started falling back when Aichi's point guard passed.
But the sudden play had come too fast.
No one could stop Moroboshi in time.
Clang—
The backboard rang with the force of the dunk.
It buzzed from the impact.
Moroboshi Dai had slammed it in clean.
Score: Kanagawa 0 – 2 Aichi.
"Don't rush. Stay steady. Let's even it up first."
Fujima Kenji's voice was calm and strong, filled with a quiet power that grounded everyone.
Whether or not that dunk had shaken his teammates,
he had to anchor them fast and get their rhythm back.
The game's tension shot up.
Offense and defense flipped in an instant.
Fujima Kenji lowered into a crouch, dribbling in a steady rhythm.
Each bounce echoed in time.
He advanced into Aichi's half without panic.
His sharp eyes scanned the court like radar,
tracking every small opening and shift.
Then his pupils narrowed slightly.
A crack had formed in Aichi's defense—small, but real.
Before their point guard noticed, Fujima suddenly burst forward.
His steps quickened.
He dribbled with rapid direction changes.
The ball danced on his fingers, and his fakes threw the defender off-balance.
Then with a smooth spin,
he launched the ball like an arrow to Rukawa Kaede,
who had already slipped into open space.
Rukawa's figure flickered.
He took off with the wind at his heels, dashing toward Aichi's basket.
But Morishige Hiroshi was already moving like a walking iron tower, eyes locked firmly on Rukawa Kaede.
The moment Rukawa Kaede stepped into Aichi's paint, Morishige's huge body slid across, sealing the lane airtight. The pressure nearly suffocated.
Rukawa's eyes sharpened, but his driving step didn't slow at all.
In a flash, he faked a strong layup attempt.
Just as Morishige shifted his balance, Rukawa flicked the ball behind him with surgical precision.
The ball arced with a long tail of light and landed cleanly in Jin Soichiro's hands outside the three-point line.
Jin adjusted immediately.
Without hesitation, he rose up into his shooting form.
His body stretched to its full length midair, eyes locked on the rim.
A smooth flick of his wrist launched the shot.
Whoosh—
The ball exploded out like a bullet, just starting to curve in a clean arc.
Then suddenly, a shadow darted into view like a phantom.
A flash of motion cut through Jin's field of vision.
Jin's pupils shrank. His heart jolted hard.
It was none other than Moroboshi Dai—one of Aichi's key players.
His eyes were sharp like an eagle's.
Every inch of his body radiated fighting spirit.
His face said it all—he was taking this stop no matter what.
Without saying a word, Moroboshi flung his arms up wide like wings.
He lunged at the ball without mercy.
Smack—
A crisp, piercing slap cracked through the court.
The sound made people flinch.
The block was clean, hard, and brutal.
He smacked the ball away with full force.
The ball whipped past Jin Soichiro's face.
The wind from it stung his skin.
Then—thud!
The ball hit the ground hard, bounced high, and rolled out across the sideline.
Jin Soichiro stared blankly at Moroboshi.
His lips moved. He forced out the name.
"Moroboshi Dai…"
Moroboshi shot back a taunting look.
His tone was casual but sharp.
"Don't think just 'cause no one's in your face, you're free to shoot easy."
With that, he turned and jogged back on defense.
Jin Soichiro stood still, eyes fixed on Moroboshi's retreating back.
His heart churned with a mix of emotions. He said nothing.
Fujima Kenji stepped up quickly and gave Jin a light pat on the shoulder.
His eyes held warmth and steady support.
"Don't worry about it."
Jin nodded slowly, voice thoughtful.
"Yeah… I'm fine.
It's just… he feels different somehow."
Ball out of bounds. Kanagawa's possession.
The ball was passed back into Fujima Kenji's hands.
He slowed the pace, mind spinning with options.
Getting dunked and blocked in the opening plays was a rough start.
He had to get a score soon to stabilize the team's morale.
Aichi's point guard stuck close, but Fujima shed him easily with a few quick changes of direction.
Still, he couldn't relax.
Based on what Morishige Hiroshi and Moroboshi Dai had shown, charging in blind would be suicide.
He needed to be even more careful now.
With that in mind, Fujima scanned the court. His eyes slid toward Rukawa Kaede.
Right now, Rukawa was still their best scoring option.
But he was being locked down tight by Moroboshi.
The two were practically glued together, with no opening in sight.
Fujima's eyes shifted again, toward the paint.
Uozumi Jun was wrestling with Morishige Hiroshi.
While their sizes weren't far apart, Morishige's brute strength was crazy.
Uozumi's red face said it all—this battle was rough.
Fujima glanced toward Jin Soichiro.
His defender wasn't sticking too tightly.
But Moroboshi's peripheral vision clearly kept drifting that way.
Then—something caught Fujima's eye.
Fukuda Kicchou had quietly rotated to the wing and was cutting toward the baseline.
His defender was already half a step behind.
Fujima had seen Fukuda's skill during training.
With himself drawing attention, plus the others pulling Aichi's defense around, this chance was real.
He made his decision and drove toward the basket.
As he neared the three-point line, he flicked a glance at Jin Soichiro.
Next, he spun his body—
just like he was about to pass the ball to Jin.
And it worked.
Moroboshi, who had been tracking from the corner of his eye, bit the bait.
He lunged toward Jin.
The fake worked perfectly.
Fujima twisted back, switched direction, and exploded toward the paint.
In the middle of fighting for position with Uozumi,
Morishige's giant eyes had been locked on every move Uozumi made.
But the moment Fujima broke through—
his focus snapped away, yanked by the sudden change.
His thick neck turned slightly.
His gaze was sharp—like a beast catching the scent of danger.
Almost at the same time, Rukawa Kaede charged into the paint like a red bolt of lightning.
He leaned forward, chest heaving, eyes locked on Fujima Kenji.
His hands were slightly raised, ready to receive the ball at any moment.
This sudden movement ratcheted up the court's tension to the max.
Morishige Hiroshi and Moroboshi Dai moved like synced-up machines.
Their eyes flicked back and forth between Rukawa and Jin Soichiro.
Their feet shifted in small bursts, ready to pounce on whoever got the ball.
In the stands—
The cheering quieted a bit.
Everyone held their breath, eyes glued to the court.
At that explosive moment, Fujima Kenji suddenly slammed on the brakes.
His sneakers squealed loudly against the floor.
He stopped clean and raised the ball with both hands, faking a shot.
Morishige's reaction was insanely fast.
His massive frame moved with unexpected slickness.
Muscles fired, and in a blink, he closed in on Fujima.
He leapt high, arms spread wide.
He blocked the light and shut down every angle of Fujima's shot.
'So fast.'
Fujima's heart tightened.
Cold sweat ran down his back.
But years of experience kept him steady.
A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes.
As Morishige's face loomed close and those big arms hung overhead,
Fujima's mouth curled into a quiet grin.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he let the ball go.
Morishige's pupils contracted.
The ball didn't go toward the rim.
Instead, it arced sideways in a strange curve.
Wait…
Not a shot?
A pass?
Morishige's mind caught up.
He whipped his eyes toward the ball's path.
A figure suddenly cut into view.
Someone unfamiliar.
It was Fukuda Kicchou.
He jumped straight up.
Before anyone on Aichi could react, he caught Fujima's pass midair.
Momentum carried him forward.
Fukuda hugged the ball and, just as he reached the rim,
slammed it down hard.
Clang—
The basket rattled violently.
The net flared like silver fireworks.
The ball dropped straight through.
Score: Kanagawa 2 – 2 Aichi.
"Thought you were all that? You're not much."
Fukuda landed with a slight bend in his knees.
He lifted his chin and stared straight at Morishige, eyes burning with challenge.
Morishige didn't move.
He stood like a black tower.
Looking down at the much shorter Fukuda,
his chest barely moved.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"You wanna compare dunks?"
Fukuda brushed past him, replying with a smirk.
"Try me."
Aichi's players all clicked their tongues quietly.
'Who is this guy?'
Talking to Morishige like that?
'Dude's got a death wish.'
They could already picture Fukuda getting crushed by Morishige.
Only one round in, and the game had the crowd's blood boiling.
Cheers erupted in waves.
The game had entered full throttle.
Aichi's ball.
Moroboshi Dai brought it up.
Even if he still held a grudge against Morishige,
as the reports said,
he was the type who'd do anything to win.
Even if it meant working with people he hated.
He reached Kanagawa's three-point line.
Rukawa Kaede stepped up to guard.
After the battle with Sannoh Kogyo,
Rukawa's skills had evolved.
His defense and anticipation were on another level now.
Charging in recklessly or pulling up would be risky for Moroboshi.
But that wasn't enough to stop him.
He faked from triple-threat, then spun into a post-up.
At the moment of contact,
he softly lobbed the ball toward the basket.
It looked casual.
But it was laser-aimed at Morishige.
He might hate the big guy,
but Morishige's dominance in the paint?
Moroboshi never lied to himself about that.
In his eyes, Kanagawa's center had size,
but he was nowhere near Morishige's level.
And he was right.
As the ball sailed over the paint,
Uozumi jumped first to intercept it.
But before his hands could even touch the ball—
another pair of huge hands snatched it midair.
Kanagawa's bench—
Someone stared at Uozumi's stiff back.
A cold snort slipped out.
Their eyes were filled with contempt.
"What an idiot."
If it had been him instead of Uozumi—
the moment he sensed someone else was about to grab the ball first,
he would've slapped it away immediately.
Even if he couldn't take possession,
there was no way he'd let the opponent have it.
But Uozumi had just stood there waiting for the ball to fall into his hands—
like a piece of wood.
Hearing that, Sendoh turned and said with a smirk,
"Oi oi oi! Saying that about my captain right in front of me? Not cool, man!"
Hmph…
Aoi Kunisaku shot him a sideways glance.
He snorted faintly through his nose, tone full of scorn.
"Trying to intercept and still daydreaming about the ball dropping into your hands…
If that's not stupid, what is?"
His words landed like a stone in calm water,
rippling through Sendoh's ears.
Sendoh's eyelashes trembled twice.
Then he fell silent, sinking into thought.
He hadn't really thought about it that way.
But now that he replayed the moment in his mind,
details started clicking.
If he had been the one contesting that ball—
he'd probably have smacked it away as fast as possible.
As that thought hit him,
his expression shifted.
His gaze grew more complex.
Aoi Kunisaku caught it all.
He smiled faintly, voice carrying a bored tone.
"Now you get how dumb he is, huh?
Just like my old captain."
…
Silence.
The bench instantly plunged into a strange quiet.
Ayako's wide eyes blinked like startled butterflies.
She looked utterly confused.
Shimizu Kanon rested a hand on her forehead,
a sigh of helplessness flickering in her eyes.
'Saku-chan… what the heck are you even saying?'
Miyagi Ryota, Sakuragi Hanamichi, and Mitsui Hisashi—
their faces were like spilled paint palettes.
Their lips twitched, eyes torn between shock, holding back laughter,
and delight at the unfolding chaos.
Then—
Pfft…
Hahahahaha!
The three of them finally lost it and burst out laughing.
Right then, Akagi Takenori sat like a man cloaked in storm clouds.
His muscles were drawn tight like a bowstring.
He was trembling slightly.
His eyes were shadowed.
A weird flush spread across his skin,
then turned pale-blue, almost steaming like a volcano about to erupt.
Sendoh, who had been leaning back lazily,
suddenly twitched at the shoulders.
He swallowed hard, forcing down his laugh.
After a long moment,
he rasped out one line:
"You really say whatever, huh?"
Everyone else nearby had mixed expressions.
Half-smiling, half-horrified.
Kiyota Nobunaga joined the laughing crew with zero hesitation.
Maki Shinichi let out a wry smile.
"Didn't know you had that side to you."
On the bench, Coaches Takato Riki and Taoka Moichi
sat with arms folded, faces serious.
But if you got closer,
you'd see their lips twitching ever so slightly.
And a vein throbbed visibly at their temples.
…
Clang!
A thunderous crash echoed through the arena.
The backboard shuddered violently.
Morishige Hiroshi had hammered the ball into the hoop again.
He hung from the rim like a metal tower.
The frame groaned under the weight.
No surprise—
he'd slammed it in clean.
Score: Kanagawa 2 – 4 Aichi.
Maki Shinichi stared at Morishige hanging from the rim.
His throat moved slightly.
His voice dropped in tone.
"With that guy in there, we're not gonna get much done inside."
Sendoh nodded grimly.
"That means we've gotta strike from outside… but…"
Everyone turned toward the matchup between Rukawa Kaede and Moroboshi Dai.
"Truly the 'Star of Aichi.' He's locking down both players," Sendoh muttered, almost admiring.
Shimizu Kanon cut in to explain.
"That's thanks to Morishige Hiroshi.
Because his interior coverage is so wide,
it frees up Moroboshi to focus more on the perimeter.
It looks like he's guarding two people at once,
but really, he's just watching the three-point line.
This inside-out defense setup suits them perfectly."
The moment she finished,
everyone understood.
She was right.
It wasn't that Moroboshi had gotten superhuman—
he was always focused on perimeter defense.
Everything inside was left to Morishige.
That took a lot of pressure off Moroboshi.
So the moment someone outside tried to shoot,
he could jump on it instantly.
Clap—
Just then, a crisp, rhythmic dribble echoed out.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
And sure enough, a familiar sight came into view.