Anzai Jitsurei told Sakuragi to sit down and watch the game, but there was no way the redhead would comply so easily. He buzzed around like a fly, muttering nonstop.
Both Anzai Jitsurei and Anzai Mitsuyoshi shared the same surname, so at first glance, they might seem similar.
But people were people—there were differences.
Sakuragi subconsciously treated Anzai Jitsurei like his own old man, yet the atmosphere here was clearly different.
Pushing up his glasses, Anzai Jitsurei spoke casually, "Sakuragi, if you don't sit down, you won't be playing today."
Sakuragi froze.
The next second, realization hit him like a thunderbolt. This wasn't Shohoku. This was the Japan Youth Team.
A place where he absolutely could not mess around.
Without another word, he plopped down obediently, hands placed neatly on his thighs, sitting straight with an expression that screamed well-behaved student.
If this were Shohoku, Sakuragi Hanamichi would never act like this. But here, the stakes were different.
This stage carried the expectations of countless people.
No matter what, he had to stay.
Meanwhile, Akagi—who had just been dunked on—suddenly became extremely active, engaging Mikio in a fierce battle under the basket.
Mikio held the advantage in height and weight, preventing Akagi from establishing deep position.
For an inside player, this was far from ideal. However, sensing Akagi's surging fighting spirit, Fukatsu deliberately let the play continue and seized an opportunity to pass the ball inside.
The moment Akagi caught it, his left shoulder twitched subtly.
Mikio instinctively thought he was going middle and shifted his left foot inward.
That instant was all Akagi needed.
Sensing the slight gap on his left, Akagi spun hard toward the baseline, slipping past Mikio in one explosive motion and charging straight under the basket.
"Bang!"
A thunderous two-handed dunk restored Akagi's dignity.
Anzai Jitsurei stroked his chin thoughtfully, then turned his head.
"Morishige Hiroshi, go warm up."
"Yes."
Hiroshi took off his jacket, rolled his stiff neck, and stood up.
The moment Hiroshi moved, Sakuragi completely lost his composure.
He immediately sidled up to Anzai Jitsurei and stared at him with burning eyes—without saying a single word.
After enduring it for several seconds, Anzai Jitsurei finally gave in. He licked his lips helplessly and said, "Alright, alright. You go too."
"Hahaha! Thank you, Coach!"
Sakuragi sprang to his feet and dashed off to warm up.
Just like that, only Nango remained seated beside Anzai Jitsurei.
As for Sugadaira? He was sitting alone at the other end of the bench.
Resting his chin on his hand, Anzai Jitsurei asked casually, "Nango, tell me your thoughts on Rukawa Kaede."
Nango pursed his lips.
Is he asking me to blacklist another teammate?
After Rukawa, will it be Mitsui? Sakuragi?
After a brief silence, he answered carefully, "Rukawa Kaede is extremely talented and trains very hard. His playing style is somewhat similar to Sawakita Eiji from Sannoh Industrial, though there are subtle differences."
"Oh?" Anzai Jitsurei grew interested. "Such as?"
"Compared to driving, Rukawa prefers long-range shots. He's very confident in his shooting touch."
Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Rukawa rose for a mid-range jumper over Matsumoto's outstretched arm.
Swish.
Matsumoto's contest was meaningless Rukawa was clearly toying with him.
Recalling his impressions of both players, Anzai Jitsurei nodded.
"Sawakita is similar, isn't he? His mid-range jumper is also extremely accurate."
"Yes, but Sawakita is more aggressive," Nango replied. "If he can score by driving, he won't choose to shoot. His stop-and-pop fadeaway is more like a final weapon."
After a short pause, Nango continued, "The key difference lies in stamina. Rukawa's endurance isn't great, so he prefers solving problems with shooting to conserve energy."
"And Sawakita," Anzai Jitsurei added smoothly, "had no stamina issues in his second year, so he chose to break defenses apart with penetration."
"Exactly."
"Go on." Anzai Jitsurei smiled, gesturing for him to continue.
Nango nodded and continued his ruthless analysis.
"Rukawa's one-on-one defense is above average, but he focuses more on defending the ball than the man. When guarding off-ball players, his attention tends to lapse."
As he spoke, Nango pointed toward the court.
Anzai Jitsurei followed his gaze.
At the 45-degree angle outside the three-point line, Matsumoto and Rukawa were matched up. The moment Rukawa lost focus, Matsumoto cut sharply inside.
Rukawa turned to chase, but it was already too late.
Fukatsu threaded the pass perfectly.
Matsumoto drove in and floated the ball over Little Kawata's head.
It was a move he'd learned from Sawakita—perfectly suited to his smaller frame.
The play perfectly confirmed Nango's assessment.
"Heh." Anzai Jitsurei tilted his head, smiling. "Nango, you really understand them."
"After being teammates for so long, I've picked up a thing or two," Nango replied, scratching his cheek awkwardly.
"No, no." Anzai Jitsurei shook his head in praise. "Your observation skills are excellent. Many people see these details but can't piece them together."
He paused, then said, "I think you should try playing power forward. Interested?"
At this point, refusal was impossible.
Nango forced a smile. "Since Coach says so… I'll give it a try."
"Good." Anzai Jitsurei nodded in satisfaction. "Starting tomorrow, I'll arrange your training."
A moment later, the ball went out of bounds, and Anzai Jitsurei used the stoppage to substitute Morishige Hiroshi and Sakuragi.
Mikio and Fukuda, who were subbed out, looked dejected. Even if they weren't eliminated, they were clearly on the brink.
Anzai Jitsurei stood, gave each of them a brief hug, then walked toward the third-year bench.
He had already grasped the overall situation of the first- and second-year players. There was no need for further adjustments.
As for Nango?
There was no need for him to play anymore. His presence would only disrupt the others.
After watching for a while longer, Hyuga Yuichi no one knew when he'd appeared suddenly wrapped an arm around Nango's neck from behind.
"Kid, did you forget everything I taught you?" Hyuga complained.
Nango struggled free and laughed. "Senior, my brain doesn't work as fast as yours. You can see through tactics at a glance, I can't!"
Hyuga flicked Nango's forehead. "Idiot! Read the tactics manual a few more times and it'll all make sense!"
Nango frowned. "Tactics manual? I don't have one."
"Oh?" Hyuga raised an eyebrow. "Then I'll bring you one tomorrow."
He said it lightly, but Nango immediately felt uneasy.
"Senior… you're not talking about Nittaidai's internal documents, are you?"
"Relax," Hyuga waved him off. "Just a general tactics guide. Nothing confidential. And if it's for you, Coach Kawasaki won't say a word."
"…Alright." Nango nodded. "Thank you, Senior."
"Don't mention it," Hyuga replied casually. "It's nothing."