After the break, Morishige Hiroshi, wearing a blue vest, continued with his usual habit.
The moment he crossed half-court, he headed straight for the paint and planted himself inside.
Fukatsu was speechless.
Are teammates only there to pass you the ball? Wouldn't it be better if you set a screen or moved once in a while?
But complaints aside, the game had to continue.
Fukatsu was preparing to swing the ball to Sendoh on the wing—
When an unexpected whistle rang out.
"Beep! Pushing foul!"
The assistant coach had noticed Kawata using excessive force while fighting for position and called it immediately.
In less than a minute, Kawata had picked up two fouls.
Nango shot Maki a strange look.
Did Kawata mess up? Should we sub him out?
Maki waved his hand dismissively, then tapped his own chest.
After that, he turned toward Anzai Jitsurei and requested a timeout, leading the Red Team to the sideline.
Maki got straight to the point.
"Kawata, want to sit for a bit?"
Kawata grinned.
"No need. I did it on purpose. One foul isn't enough to make Fukatsu bite. This way, he definitely will."
He continued confidently.
"Morishige Hiroshi will start demanding the ball and going one-on-one. That's when we strike."
Kawata clearly trusted his ability to manage foul trouble, which was why he dared to take such a risk.
But this was like walking a tightrope in midair—
One misstep, and it would all collapse.
Moreover, with two fouls already, Kawata would have to defend more cautiously, giving Hiroshi even more space.
Nango licked his lips.
"Kawata-senpai, how do you want me to help?"
If Kawata guarded Hiroshi alone, a third foul was only a matter of time.
Kawata thought for a moment.
"Same as before. I take baseline. You protect the middle."
The timeout ended.
Both teams returned to the court.
Seeing Kawata still on the floor, Fukatsu's mind immediately started calculating.
After receiving the inbound, he lobbed the ball straight into Hiroshi—completely different from his earlier hesitation.
Morishige caught, turned, and began backing down.
Kawata held firm on the baseline.
Nango abandoned Tsuchiya and slid under the basket, lurking in the middle lane.
Two defenders?
Hiroshi noticed Nango in his peripheral vision—
But ignored him.
For Morishige Hiroshi, numbers didn't matter.
He had faced double-teams, triple-teams, even entire walls before.
Nango stepped up.
Together with Kawata, he closed in.
Hiroshi rose before they could fully trap him.
"Thwack—swish!"
Bank shot.
Good.
Kawata frowned.
"Don't be soft. Put real pressure on him."
Nango could only nod.
That possession was on him—he had underestimated Hiroshi.
Red Team attack.
Maki brought the ball up.
Moroboshi signaled for it.
The offense wasn't flowing, so he decided to create something himself.
Facing Matsumoto, Moroboshi used two sharp crossovers, created separation, then burst past him and pulled up at the free-throw line.
Swish.
Blue Team answered quickly.
After several passes, the ball once again found its way into Hiroshi's hands.
This time, Nango didn't hesitate.
The moment Hiroshi put the ball on the floor, Nango moved to double.
Tsuchiya raised both hands, calling for the ball.
"Over here!"
Hiroshi ignored him.
Spin move—shook Kawata.
Shoulder into Nango.
Power gather.
He tried to go up through both of them.
You're really shooting this?!
Nango's pride flared.
If Hiroshi scored here, he'd lose face completely.
He planted hard and jumped straight up.
Despite being smaller, Nango's long hours in the weight room paid off.
The sudden burst of strength disrupted Hiroshi's balance.
His jump fell short.
Nango's left hand slapped down on the ball.
It popped loose.
Because the contact was brief, no whistle came.
The ball bounced behind Hiroshi.
Neither Kawata nor Nango could reach around him.
Hiroshi recovered it himself.
"Smack!"
He slammed the ball down with both hands, then drove his shoulder into Nango, forcing space.
Hiroshi rose again—
"Snap!"
From the side, Kawata reached in and stripped the ball clean.
Maki rushed in and secured it.
Red Team finally got the stop.
Maki slowed the tempo, dribbling up while glancing back.
Nango, having been battered twice, lagged behind, walking as he caught his breath.
Moroboshi took the ball at the top.
As Nango strolled into position, he set a screen near the three-point line.
Moroboshi used it, drove inside the arc, and was met by Tsuchiya.
No issue.
Nango had popped out.
Moroboshi whipped a behind-the-back pass.
Nango caught, adjusted, and fired.
Swish.
"Nice pass," Nango said, giving Moroboshi a thumbs-up.
"You shot it well," Moroboshi replied with a faint smile.
They turned and ran back together.
Fukatsu crossed half-court and paused at the top of the key.
Morishige's offense is terrifying…
He might even foul Kawata out.
But his isolations are freezing everyone else.
Should I try one more time?
After hesitating, Fukatsu passed it inside.
Last chance.
Hiroshi backed down.
Lowered his shoulder.
Charged again—
Kawata suddenly pulled the chair.
Hiroshi lost balance and stumbled backward.
"Beep!"
Traveling.
Blue Team's morale dipped visibly.
Their earlier momentum was gone.
Red Team's trap—
Fully activated.
Everyone knew it.
This possession had to count.
Maki swung the ball to Moroboshi.
Nango ran up to set another screen.
Moroboshi accelerated toward the paint.
Tsuchiya chased hard.
But at the free-throw line, Kawata stepped into Tsuchiya's path.
Perfect screen.
Moroboshi took three long strides and went up.
Hiroshi exploded into the air, ready to annihilate the shot.
But Moroboshi flicked the ball backward midair.
Behind-the-back.
Kawata caught.
One motion.
One-handed dunk.
Boom!
Starting from Moroboshi's earlier three, Red Team unleashed a 10–2 run, completely flipping the game's momentum.
Fukatsu, face unreadable, turned immediately.
"Timeout."
He raised his hand toward Anzai Jitsurei.