"Fukuda... you need to calm down."
"We need defense right now, and you—"
"I know!"
For the first time ever, Fukuda interrupted Coach Taoka.
It was incredibly rude.
Yet equally resolute.
He pointed toward the shaky figure wearing Number 7 on the court.
"You don't have to worry about Sendoh."
"As long as you let me back in..."
Two blazing flames burned in Fukuda's eyes.
They were fueled by his hunger for victory.
And by his unwavering faith in that man.
"He'll win."
"And I'll help him win."
Taoka Moichi froze.
After a long silence, the strict coach slowly closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.
When he opened them again...
They were as sharp as knives.
"Go, Fukuda!"
"This is the final stretch!"
"Forget about defense."
"Forget about fouls."
"Attack!"
"Score!"
"Take those damn points back!"
"Yes, Coach!!"
Fukuda roared, tore off his warm-up jacket, and strode toward the scorer's table.
Ryonan substitution.
Defensive specialist Ikegami checked out.
The spear of Ryonan's offense...
Fukuda Kicchou checked in.
The moment Fukuda stepped onto the floor...
Sendoh looked up.
Their eyes met.
A brilliant smile suddenly bloomed across Sendoh's pale face.
It was as though an enormous weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
"Fuku... you're here."
Sendoh extended his fist.
"We're going to win."
Looking at that smile...
The tension in Fukuda's body finally melted away.
He raised his own fist and slammed it against Sendoh's.
"That's right."
"We're going to win!"
In the stands...
Makino Juro watched the touching display of brotherhood with amused interest.
"Heh... so we're doing the power-of-friendship thing now?"
He pretended to chew nonexistent popcorn like an utterly heartless spectator.
"Taoka's really going all in."
"Choosing mutual destruction by unleashing Fukuda—the mad dog—at a time like this."
Just then...
A strange chill crept up his spine.
It didn't come from the game.
It was...
Instinct.
A premonition so ominous it sent a cold shiver down his back.
He instinctively turned around.
Near the entrance, two event staff members were anxiously looking around.
They were searching for someone.
Their destination...
The Shohoku section.
"Excuse me..."
"Is Student Makino Juro here?"
Their voices weren't loud.
But Juro heard them.
His brows instantly knitted together.
His heart skipped a beat.
This feeling...
Was very, very bad.
"Hey, Master."
"Someone's looking for you."
"A fan?"
"Or maybe a pretty girl?"
Sakuragi Hanamichi nudged him with a grin full of gossip.
"Something happened."
Makino Juro stood up.
His face darkened frighteningly.
His usual lazy, teasing demeanor vanished completely.
Replacing it...
Was a terrifying solemnity.
Ignoring Sakuragi entirely, he strode toward the aisle.
"I'm Makino Juro."
"What happened?"
One of the staff members, a girl wearing glasses, visibly flinched at the oppressive aura radiating from him.
"Ah..."
"Juro-kun..."
She hurriedly lifted her walkie-talkie.
"T-The tournament headquarters received an emergency phone call."
"They said..."
"It's extremely urgent."
"They had to reach you immediately."
"A phone call?"
Makino Juro's pupils contracted.
In this era...
Getting a call transferred through the tournament headquarters to find someone wasn't something trivial.
Especially at a time like this.
"Take me there."
"What's going on?"
"Mitsui Hisashi frowned."
"Juro looked like he wanted to kill someone."
Rukawa Kaede silently watched Makino Juro's departing back.
Deep in thought.
That expression wasn't anger.
It looked more like...
Someone who had just remembered something terrifying.
Tournament Headquarters Office.
Juro grabbed the phone.
"This is Makino Juro."
A girl's tearful voice came from the other end.
"Juro-kun..."
"Sob..."
"Haruko?"
"Stop crying."
"Calm down."
"Tell me what happened."
His voice sank.
The hand gripping the receiver turned white from the force.
"Just now..."
"The hospital called..."
"Coach Anzai..."
"He suddenly collapsed at home..."
Boom!
It felt as if a bolt of lightning exploded inside Makino Juro's mind.
He had read the original story.
He knew this trial was coming.
But knowing...
And experiencing it in reality...
Were two completely different things.
That chubby old man who always smiled.
The mentor who indulged his laziness, yet always guided him whenever he lost his way.
He...
Had collapsed?
An indescribable emotion surged through Makino Juro's chest.
He forcibly suppressed it.
He couldn't afford to panic.
Not now.
"Which hospital?"
His voice was frighteningly calm.
Like a machine devoid of emotion.
"...Okay."
"I understand."
Juro glanced at the wall clock.
"Haruko."
"Go to the hospital immediately."
"Don't panic."
"Leave everything else to me."
"I'll arrange for the best doctors."
He hung up.
Then stood silently inside the office...
For three full seconds.
Outside the window...
The deafening cheers from the arena crashed like tidal waves.
Sendoh.
Maki Shinichi.
Their climactic duel.
The blazing passion of youth.
But to Makino Juro...
It was only noise.
He turned and pushed open the office door.
The laziness had completely disappeared from his eyes.
Only razor-sharp determination remained.
Inside the arena...
The scorching air felt ready to explode.
Every breath carried the scent of burning heat.
Only one corner of the stands...
Had become deathly cold.
After hanging up the phone, Juro didn't waste a single word.
He turned toward the Shohoku players, who were still focused on the score.
His gaze was as sharp as blades.
Even someone as thick-headed as Sakuragi Hanamichi felt his scalp tingle.
"Stop watching."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it carried an authority that tolerated no argument.
"Everyone."
"Come with me."
"Right now."
"Huh?"
"But..."
"Master, the game's almost over..."
Sakuragi pointed toward Sendoh, who was still desperately battling Maki.
His face was full of confusion.
"Coach Anzai collapsed."
Those four words struck harder than a nuclear bomb.
They detonated directly over every Shohoku player's head.
Sakuragi's hand froze in midair.
Like a robot whose tape had jammed.
Mitsui's water bottle slipped from his hand.
Clang!
Water splashed across his pants.
Ayako covered her mouth.
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
Even Rukawa's eternally expressionless face finally cracked.
He stared fixedly at Makino Juro.
That smiling old man...
The white-haired coach who never got angry, no matter how much they messed around...
Had collapsed?
"Don't just stand there!"
"To the hospital!"
Miyagi Ryota was the first to snap back to reality.
His voice was hoarse, as though he'd swallowed burning charcoal.
His reddened eyes glistened as he shouted.
The entire group sprinted toward the exit like madmen.
ROAR!!
A beast-like engine suddenly erupted outside.
Everyone instinctively turned around.
They watched as Makino Juro pulled open the scissor door of a silver-gray supercar.
Its aggressive body lines.
Its savage engine note.
On the crowded streets...
It looked completely out of place.
His eyes locked onto Ayako.
Usually confident and fiery...
She was utterly shaken now.
Even her hands were trembling.
"Ayako."
"Get in."
Juro pointed at the passenger seat.
"B-But..."
She hesitated, her mind completely blank.
"No buts."
"You're the team manager."
"You know Coach's medical condition better than the others."
"You need to get there first."
Without waiting for a reply, Makino Juro firmly guided her into the passenger seat.
Then he looked toward everyone else.
"We'll meet at the hospital."
"Don't worry!"
"We'll get there even if we have to crawl!"
Mitsui gritted his teeth.
His eyes were bloodshot.
ROOOAR!!
The accelerator slammed to the floor.
The silver-gray supercar let out an explosive howl.
Its tires screeched violently against the asphalt, leaving behind a cloud of white smoke.
The next second...
The car shot onto the main road like a silver bolt of lightning.
Even its taillights dissolved into afterimages.
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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