Blue Team possession.
Morishige Hiroshi, fresh off his block, crossed half-court and headed straight for the paint, planting himself deep and raising his hand for the ball.
Fukatsu glanced at him—
Then ignored him completely.
Instead, he swung the ball to Sendoh.
This was both a tactical choice and an expression of trust.
Fukatsu believed in Sendoh.
Not because of logic or statistics—
But because he simply felt that Sendoh was someone you could rely on.
Compared to that, his former teammate Sawakita was sometimes too willful, too unpredictable. For someone as methodical as Fukatsu, that kind of style was hard to feel comfortable with.
Sendoh had beaten Rukawa on the previous possession, but Rukawa's defense had still been solid.
This time, Rukawa stayed glued to him, giving almost no space.
Sendoh took two probing steps.
Rukawa retreated slightly.
In that instant, Sendoh gave a quick left-right feint—
Then exploded through the middle.
Rukawa turned and chased, staying tight on his right side, but he was already half a step behind.
Nango once again pinned Tsuchiya behind him and waited.
When Sendoh crossed the free-throw line, Nango stepped up to double.
Sendoh wanted to kick it out to Tsuchiya.
No passing angle.
So he lowered his stance and slid left.
Rukawa and Nango both followed.
Nango kept both arms high, completely cutting off the passing lane.
Because Nango was between them, Rukawa didn't press too tightly—
A tiny gap appeared.
"Thwack!"
Sendoh slammed the ball down with his left hand, caught it cleanly off the bounce, then used a hop step to slip past Nango's left side—toward the right side of the basket.
Nango reacted a beat late.
Too late.
Sendoh rose and laid the ball in smoothly.
Nango sighed.
Still the same…
Always finding that impossible opening.
Fukatsu jogged past Sendoh and bumped fists with him.
"Nice move."
"Thanks."
Sendoh smiled and retreated on defense.
Anzai Jitsurei stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Sendoh and Uozumi were never nationally famous, but their individual strength is real.
In a way, it's fortunate Sawakita didn't come. Otherwise, Rukawa and Sendoh would barely get chances like this.
With Morishige anchoring the paint and Sendoh creating offense, Blue Team's confidence surged.
Defensive pressure intensified.
Physical contact increased.
The game's tempo rose another notch.
Red Team went back to their mismatch plan.
This time, Nango posted even deeper.
He fought Tsuchiya all the way to the edge of the restricted area and called for the ball.
The distance between Fukatsu and Nango was now much larger.
A double-team would take longer.
Maki delivered the entry pass.
Fukatsu still committed to the double without hesitation.
Nango decided not to pass.
He immediately backed down.
One step.
Two steps—
Tsuchiya suddenly yanked backward.
Chair pull.
Nango stumbled.
Damn it! Too careless!
He hurriedly flung the ball toward the rim, hoping at least to avoid a traveling call.
The rushed shot flew long—
Straight into Morishige Hiroshi's hands.
Fukatsu wanted to push a fast break.
But Maki and Kawata were already retreating.
Transition opportunity gone.
Blue Team slowed it down.
Sendoh caught the ball on the right wing, forty-five degrees.
This time, he didn't attack immediately.
He watched.
Matsumoto tried to cut.
Moroboshi stuck to him like glue.
Seeing this, Morishige shoved Kawata aside, slid toward the right block, and raised his hand again.
Sendoh lobbed the ball inside.
At the same moment, he took off.
Not to clear space—
But to cut.
Sendoh knew Rukawa's defensive habit well.
When his man doesn't have the ball, Rukawa's focus dips slightly.
As expected.
Rukawa's raised hands dropped for an instant.
That was enough.
Sendoh cut hard toward the basket.
Morishige caught the ball.
This was a perfect kick-out opportunity.
But Hiroshi didn't look.
He turned and hooked.
"Swish."
The shot went in.
Fukatsu frowned.
Tsuchiya frowned.
Even Anzai Jitsurei hesitated, lips parting before closing again.
Once the ball goes into Morishige's hands…
It's hard to come back out.
Sendoh said nothing.
He simply jogged back on defense.
On the other side, Nango and Maki exchanged glances.
Both felt it.
This was a crack.
But how to exploit it?
Maki whispered, "As long as Fukatsu is running the offense, he won't keep feeding Morishige. Hard to use that weakness."
Nango smiled faintly.
"Then what if Kawata picks up fouls first?"
Maki laughed.
"Then Fukatsu will have no choice but to keep Morishige on the floor longer."
Nango nodded.
"Then convincing Kawata is up to you, Maki-senpai."
He turned and ran ahead.
Their relationship with Kawata wasn't close.
Maki's was.
Red Team possession.
Kawata set up at the high post with his back to Hiroshi and called for the ball.
Maki lobbed it in.
Kawata caught, turned, and attacked.
He dropped his center of gravity low.
Bumped into Hiroshi.
Small hook.
"Beep!"
The whistle came a split-second late.
"Offensive foul!"
Kawata clicked his tongue and shot Hiroshi a sharp look before jogging back.
Hiroshi rubbed his stomach.
"That bald bastard…"
Nango inwardly shook his head.
Petty.
Fukatsu stepped over.
"You okay?"
Hiroshi nodded.
Then immediately sprinted upcourt.
He wanted the ball.
He wanted revenge.
Seeing Hiroshi and Kawata jawing and shoving down the floor, Fukatsu had no choice.
He passed it inside.
Morishige backed down.
Spun toward the middle.
His plan was obvious.
Fake.
Get Kawata in the air.
Then dunk.
But the moment he turned—
Before he could even raise the ball—
A hand stabbed in.
Nango poked it loose.
Maki scooped it up.
Blue Team turnover.
Red Team counter.
Maki slowed at the top of the arc.
At the same time, Nango sprinted over and set a screen for Moroboshi.
Moroboshi shook Matsumoto.
Hands up.
Maki passed.
Moroboshi rose.
Tsuchiya closed out.
Moroboshi pulled the ball back, slid sideways—
Up again.
"Swish."
Clean.
Moroboshi Dai.
The Star of Aichi.
Deadly from three.