Sora brought the ball up slowly, each step requiring conscious effort. His legs felt like they were moving through cement.
Kento Sawa pressured him at half court, his defensive intensity at maximum. Sora tried to cross over, create space—
His legs didn't respond fast enough.
SLAP!
Sawa stripped the ball cleanly, already pushing in transition.
Sora turned to chase, his competitive fire overriding his body's protests—
His foot caught awkwardly. He stumbled, then fell hard to the floor.
The Shinmaruko crowd erupted in laughter.
Chucky rushed over immediately. "Kurumatani! You okay?!"
Sora pushed himself up on trembling arms. "I'm fine. I haven't... given up."
"LOOK AT HIM!" someone from the Shinmaruko section shouted. "HE CAN'T EVEN STAND ANYMORE!"
"JUST FORFEIT ALREADY!"
"THIS IS EMBARRASSING TO WATCH!"
The laughter grew louder, more mocking.
In the upper section of the bleachers, Chiaki Hanazono stood up from his seat. He'd been watching with increasing discomfort, his usual carefree expression replaced by something darker.
He started walking toward the exit.
"Chiaki-senpai!"
Madoka caught up to him in the hallway, slightly out of breath.
"Please," she said. "Join the match. They need you."
Chiaki didn't stop walking. "The outcome is already determined, Madoka-san. Me joining won't change anything."
"Maybe not. But—" Madoka's voice cracked. "I'm moved by their efforts. By Sora's refusal to quit. By your brother finding his passion again. By those three beginners fighting against players way above their level."
Chiaki paused.
"Even if the whole world laughs at them," Madoka continued, tears in her eyes, "I won't. Because they're showing what basketball should be about—heart, determination, refusing to quit even when it's hopeless."
Shinmaruko had pushed the lead to thirteen points: 76-89.
Sora was back on his feet, trying to bring the ball up. His vision was swimming, his coordination failing.
In the Shinmaruko supporters' section, one particularly obnoxious fan stood up.
"WHY ARE THEY STILL TRYING?!" he shouted to his friends. "JUST END THIS ALREADY! IT'S PATHETIC!"
In his frustration, he threw his drink can toward the court.
It landed near the sideline, rolling onto the playing surface.
Sora, his peripheral vision compromised by exhaustion, didn't see it. His foot landed directly on the can—
His ankle rolled. He went down hard, his knee slamming into the hardwood.
TWEET!
The referee immediately called timeout.
Yasuhara was on him in an instant, helping him up. Then the forward turned toward the Shinmaruko section, his face red with fury.
"WHO THREW THAT?!" he roared. "WHICH ONE OF YOU COWARDS THREW THAT CAN?!"
Nabe and Chucky joined him, all three ready to charge into the stands.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" Nabe shouted.
"Guys, stop." Sora's voice was quiet but firm. He was on his feet now, favoring his rolled ankle. "I'm fine. Don't get into arguments with them. It's not worth it."
"But they—"
"I said stop."
The gymnasium doors burst open.
CRASH!
A bench chair flew through the air, sailing over the court and landing directly in the Shinmaruko supporters' section. People scattered, shouting in alarm.
Chiaki Hanazono walked onto the court, his usual lazy expression replaced by cold fury.
"PEOPLE WHO AREN'T DOING ANY OF THE FIGHTING," he said, his voice carrying across the now-silent gymnasium, "SHOULDN'T BE LAUGHING AT THE ONES WHO ARE PUTTING IN THE EFFORT!"
He walked to the scorer's table. "I'm checking in. Number 7."
The Kuzuryu bench erupted.
"CHIAKI!"
"HE'S PLAYING!"
"WE HAVE A CHANCE!"
On the Shinmaruko bench, Chiba sat up straighter.
"Tokiwa," he said quietly. "See that tall guy who just checked in?"
"Yeah?"
"I played against him in middle school. Chiaki Hanazono." Chiba's expression was serious. "I've never met a player who tops him in basketball skills. Not technique, not IQ, not court awareness. He's different from his brother—Momoharu is all athleticism and power. Chiaki is pure basketball genius."
Tokiwa's eyes narrowed. "That good?"
"That good. Be careful."
------
Momoharu stared at his brother in amazement. "What made you decide to play?"
Chiaki grinned, some of his usual carefree demeanor returning. "It's natural for an older brother to help his younger brother, isn't it? Can't let you have all the fun."
Sora looked at Chiaki, and for the first time since the third quarter started, he felt something stir—hope.
"Chiaki-senpai," he said, "I'm counting on you to change the flow of the game."
Chiaki nodded. "Leave it to me, Mister No-Height. Just focus on getting open. I'll find you."
Sora checked his stamina.
But something was different. Seeing Chiaki step up, seeing his teammate refuse to let them fight alone—it reignited something inside him.
I don't care about the risk, Sora thought. Eight minutes. Give me eight more minutes.
The timeout ended. Teams returned to the court.
76-89, Shinmaruko leading by thirteen.
But now, Kuzuryu had their secret weapon.
Chiaki inbounded to Sora, who immediately passed it back. The point guard position was Chiaki's now.
"Rest on offense," Chiaki said quietly as he jogged past Sora. "Save your energy for cutting and shooting."
Chiaki brought the ball up slowly—almost too slowly. The Shinmaruko defenders pressed, trying to force him to speed up.
He dribbled casually, looking completely unconcerned.
Eight seconds.
Seven seconds.
"CHIAKI! THE VIOLATION!" Momoharu shouted.
Six seconds.
TWEET!
"Eight-second violation! Red ball!"
The referee pointed to Shinmaruko's basket.
Chiaki scratched his head sheepishly. "Oops. My bad, guys. Haven't played in a while. Forgot about that rule."
The Kuzuryu bench groaned. The Shinmaruko supporters laughed.
But Sora noticed something—Chiaki was smiling. Not his usual lazy smile, but something sharper, more calculating.
He did that on purpose, Sora realized. But why?
Tokiwa brought the ball up, his confidence high. One violation and they'd get the ball right back.
He ran the offense, the ball swinging from player to player. Finally, he saw his opening—Sawa cutting to the basket.
Tokiwa executed his signature backhand pass, the ball whipping around his defender—
Chiaki appeared from nowhere, his hand intercepting the pass cleanly.
"WHAT?!" Tokiwa's eyes widened.
Chiaki smiled. "Nice pass. But if I were in your position right there, I would've done the exact same thing. Which means I knew exactly what was coming."
He was already pushing in transition.
Kuchiki sprinted back on defense, trying to cut off Chiaki's angle.
Chiaki drove right, seemingly committed to the lane—
His elbow flicked out, and the ball went left to Nabe, who was trailing the play.
Nabe caught it, completely shocked to be open.
"SHOOT IT!" Sora shouted.
Nabe went up, his form ugly but functional—
SWISH.
78-89.
"I... I SCORED!" Nabe shouted, jumping up and down. "I ACTUALLY SCORED!"
Sora jogged over, grinning despite his exhaustion. "First basket! Nice job!"
Kuchiki looked at Chiba, confused. "Why didn't you rotate to stop him?"
"I couldn't," Chiba said, his expression serious. "Hanazono did an elbow pass. By the time I saw it, Nabe was already shooting."
Tokiwa brought the ball up, his expression now completely focused. No more underestimating. No more casual play.
He tried to run a pick-and-roll with Chiba, but Chiaki fought through the screen effortlessly, his defensive positioning perfect.
Frustrated, Tokiwa tried to make a quick pass to Sawa—
The ball went directly to Chucky instead.
Tokiwa's jaw dropped. "How did I—"
"Gift from the opponent," Chiaki called out cheerfully. "Thanks for the present, Tokiwa!"
He received the ball from Chucky, then immediately whipped a vicious pass back—the ball screaming past Tokiwa's face, close enough that the point guard flinched.
"Oops," Chiaki said with mock innocence. "Ball slipped. My bad."
The pass reached Chucky, who immediately gave it back to Chiaki.
The older Hanazono twin drove toward the basket, Chiba and Kuchiki converging on him—
Chiaki saw Sora cutting to the right corner, using Momoharu as a screen. The movement was sharp, decisive—off-ball tactics at their finest.
Chiaki's pass was perfect, hitting Sora right in his shooting pocket.
Sora caught it, set his feet, and released in one fluid motion.
SWISH.
81-89.
Eight-point game.
The Kuzuryu bench was on their feet.
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"
"WE'RE BACK IN THIS!"
Chiaki jogged past Sora. "You looked like you needed that."
"Thanks, senpai."
"Don't thank me yet. We've got a long way to go."
Shinmaruko tried to slow the momentum with a deliberate possession, but Chiaki's defensive presence was disrupting everything. His length, his anticipation, his basketball IQ—he was in every passing lane, contesting every shot.
They settled for a contested jumper from Sawa.
CLANG.
Momoharu grabbed the rebound and immediately looked for Chiaki.
The older Hanazono twin was already sprinting up court, calling for the ball.
Momoharu threw the outlet pass. Chiaki caught it in stride and immediately attacked.
Tokiwa was back on defense, but Chiaki didn't try to challenge him one-on-one.
Instead, he called out: "SORA! STACK RIGHT!"
Sora understood immediately. He sprinted to the right wing, using Chucky and Yasuhara as back-to-back screens—a "stack" formation.
His defenders got caught in traffic.
Chiaki's pass was perfectly timed, hitting Sora just as he came free around the second screen.
Sora rose up—
SWISH.
84-89.
Five-point game.
The gymnasium was electric now. The Shinmaruko supporters had gone quiet. The Kuzuryu supporters—small as they were—were screaming themselves hoarse.
Madoka was sobbing with joy. "They're doing it... they're actually doing it..."
The Shinmaruko coach gathered his players, his expression grim.
"What the hell is happening out there?!"
"That tall guy," Tokiwa said, frustration evident. "He's reading everything. Every pass, every cut, every screen. It's like he can see the future."
"And Kurumatani is getting open constantly," Sawa added. "He's running around screens non-stop, and somehow that Hanazono kid finds him every time."
Chiba spoke up. "I told you. Chiaki Hanazono is the real deal. As long as he's on the court, we're in a real game."
The coach thought for a moment. "Then we need to attack him. Make him work on defense. And we double-team Kurumatani off the ball—don't let him get those clean looks."
Sora collapsed onto the bench, his chest heaving. But for the first time since the third quarter, he was smiling.
"Chiaki-senpai's presence changes everything," Momoharu said. "The offense flows. Everyone knows their roles."
Chiaki shrugged. "I'm just passing to the open man. Sora's the one making the shots."
"But you're creating the opportunities," Sora said. "Keep doing what you're doing. I'll keep running."
Six and a half minutes, Sora thought. Just need to hold on for six and a half more minutes.
The timeout ended.
84-89, Shinmaruko leading by five.
The comeback was alive.