Chapter 139: Hand Slipped
...Neither Sawakita Eiji nor Kawata Masashi. They're running the offense through Matsumoto Minoru?
Coach Taoka couldn't help furrowing his brow. Matsumoto was a genuinely dangerous shooting guard. In Sannoh's rotation, Sawakita rarely played a full game, and when he was off the floor, Matsumoto became their primary scoring option.
Putting Ikegami Ryoji on Matsumoto was worth considering, but that would force 174-centimeter Koshino Hiroaki against 198-centimeter Nobe Masahiro. The mismatch didn't disappear, it just moved.
Transition. Ryonan offense.
Sendoh pushed the ball over half court. Yagami called for it from the right wing.
"Yagami calling for the ball! Is the pride of Kanagawa about to challenge Japan's number one high schooler one-on-one?!" The commentator's voice jumped with excitement.
Yagami caught the pass and settled into his triple-threat stance.
"Well, we meet again." Sawakita's eyes were full of genuine curiosity and readiness, interested to see what Yagami would do against him. "That warmup shot was impressive. But don't think the game is going to be that easy."
"Oh, that." Yagami's gaze drifted briefly toward the basket. "My hand slipped."
Sawakita's expression was a question mark from forehead to chin. Hand slipped. Sure. On a full-court bank shot that covered the entire floor.
Yagami brought his eyes back and quickly read Sawakita's defensive positioning. The distance was calibrated well, close enough to contest a shot, far enough to react to a drive.
"When in doubt—"
He murmured it under his breath, made no adjustment at all, and simply pulled up into a three-pointer.
"WHAT?!"
Sawakita's reaction was instant. He launched himself upward to block, fingertips tracking toward the ball.
Yagami stabilized his core in the air and leaned back just slightly.
"This guy—" Sawakita's pupils contracted.
SWISH.
The ball traced a clean arc through the air.
Three points, pure.
Ryonan 3, Sannoh Industrial 5.
"Sorry about that. My hand slipped." Yagami said it quietly as he landed and dropped straight back into defense.
"Beautiful shot, Yagami!"
"Nice ball!"
Ryonan's bench energy lifted.
"Hand slipped?!" The vein at Sawakita's temple was visible. He had not expected to see this kid come at him like that.
Transition. Sannoh offense.
Fukatsu brought the ball over half court. Sawakita called for it immediately.
Last possession he had kept a clear head and fed Matsumoto to finish. After all, Coach Domoto had correctly guessed Ryonan's matchup arrangement, and the smart play early was to exploit that wherever possible.
But after Yagami did that to him, Sawakita was ready to activate what could only be described as his selfish mode. In a one-on-one, he could not lose.
Sawakita caught the ball, and with Yagami right in front of him, immediately rose into a pull-up jumper with no setup at all.
TICK.
Yagami went straight up and blocked it clean, deflecting the ball out.
"That idiot!"
Kawata Masashi had started retreating the instant Sawakita released, and Fukatsu had already sprinted past Sendoh.
Yagami controlled the deflection and pushed forward, but there was no fast break to be had.
Ryonan transition offense.
Yagami carried the ball up the floor, Sawakita fuming at his side. By the time they reached Sannoh's three-point line, Sawakita had drawn level at a diagonal angle and was reaching to interfere.
Yagami felt solid resistance pressing from the side.
CRACK. He tested right. Sawakita's weight shifted a fraction in that direction, but his feet stayed planted. Yagami pulled it back and faked left. Sawakita didn't move at all.
"Experienced. Composed." Yagami processed it quickly, dropped his shoulder, and drove hard right.
"He's through!"
But not completely.
Kawata Masashi had reacted almost simultaneously to Yagami's cut toward the paint, filling not only the driving lane but positioning himself to simultaneously cut off the passing angle to Uozumi. Yagami's momentum had gone slightly off-balance forcing through the contact. With Sawakita recovering and Kawata cutting off the next option, a double-team was closing in.
"Who's he going to pass to?"
Fukatsu slid right without telegraphing it, sealing off Sendoh's receiving spot while leaving what appeared to be an open passing lane through the middle of the floor.
"Come on. The trap is ready."
Rather than correcting his balance, Yagami let himself keep going in the direction he was already falling, and as he went down his right hand flung the ball upward at a diagonal.
SWISH.
Pure.
Yagami hit the floor.
Ryonan 5, Sannoh Industrial 5.
"UNBELIEVABLE! Yagami converts in an impossible position!"
"Isn't that little Aomine's move?" In the stands, Kise Ryota jolted and spun around toward Aomine Daiki behind him.
"I knew it." A trace of surprise crossed Aomine's face, but mostly what was there was something pleased. "If you want to call yourself my rival, at least be able to do something like this."
"You're surprised about this." Kasamatsu Yukio delivered an elbow that brought Kise back down. "This is basically how everyone feels watching you copy people all the time."
"That's completely different!" Kise's hands went up and down. "It's not a copying problem, he's like, he's—"
What Kise wanted to say was that Aomine's movements were simply not the kind of thing any ordinary person could replicate. But then a different thought hit him. Why was he thinking that way? Why set limits like that?
Kise locked his eyes on Yagami dropping back into defense, and something in his expression shifted into resolve. If Yagami could do it, then Kise himself should be able to—no, he absolutely would be able to.
"Dummy." Kasamatsu watched the change come over Kise's face and understood there was nothing more to add.
He had always believed one thing: Kainan's ace was not inferior to any ace in this tournament.
On the floor.
Fukatsu ignored Sawakita's outstretched hand and lobbed the ball directly into the post. Kawata Masashi received, backed into Uozumi, turned, and finished a turnaround jumper.
Ryonan 5, Sannoh Industrial 7.
"Fukatsu-senpai!" Sawakita's protest had genuine grievance in it.
"Saw you asking." Fukatsu answered without looking back. "I don't pass to idiots."
"Get back on defense, idiot!" Kawata called as he retreated.
"Looks like he doesn't need to come off yet." Coach Domoto stood at the sideline, thinking it through. "Compared to Fukatsu and Kawata, Sawakita still has mental discipline to work on, though his ability is beyond question."
"But the opponent's first-year is proving to be genuinely difficult. He's already erased the opening advantage through consecutive scoring. The way he attacks, it's like he's telling Ryonan's players that Sannoh is nothing to be afraid of."
"We'll need to address him specifically. Soon."
Transition. Ryonan offense.
Sendoh understood the priority. To get anything usable from Koshino and Ikegami on offense, he and Yagami needed to make the defense genuinely respect them first.
CRACK.
Sendoh exploded off a hard crossover. Fukatsu dug in and held his ground. Their bodies collided. Sendoh kept his balance through the contact and used the resistance to step back. Fukatsu covered the half-step gap instantly.
But Sendoh changed gears again, swinging the ball behind his back to his left hand and simultaneously dropping his center of gravity before hitting a second burst of speed.
By the time Fukatsu processed the change, Sendoh had already cleared his side.
"Beautiful rhythm change! Sendoh's ball-handling is absolutely rock-solid!"
Matsumoto collapsed to help. Sendoh pulled up mid-range.
SWISH.
Two points, clean.
Ryonan 7, Sannoh Industrial 7.
The next several exchanges produced no decisive advantage for either side. It was not the lopsided display most of the crowd had been anticipating.
Sannoh's offense was varied and efficient. Fukatsu's playmaking kept them operating cleanly, with Matsumoto as the primary scoring option while Kawata Masashi and Nobe Masahiro found their looks inside. Sawakita, conspicuously, was being treated as if he didn't exist. After another missed shot, Fukatsu simply stopped sending the ball his way, as if his only function in the lineup at this point was to tie Yagami up on the wing.
Ryonan countered through Sendoh and Yagami in isolation. The combination's offensive ability was on full display at the national level.
Eighth minute of the first quarter.
Ryonan 16, Sannoh Industrial 17.
Ryonan offense.
Sendoh changed direction and drove into the paint, Fukatsu tracking him while Matsumoto's rotation was noticeably sharper than before.
The ball found the corner where Koshino had been waiting.
Matsumoto didn't fully release Yagami but turned back toward the corner to recover, and Koshino seized the moment, jumped without hesitation, the ball coming off his hands in a very high arc.
CLANG.
No good.
"Rebound!"
Uozumi roared and launched himself upward, tipping the ball free from between Kawata Masashi and Nobe's double coverage.
Kawata landed and instantly repositioned for the second bounce.
But Yagami's figure came in from the side, his vertical speed arriving faster than Kawata expected, fingertip getting above Kawata's reach to redirect the ball.
The ball flew back toward the basket, circled twice around the rim, and fell through.
Ryonan 18, Sannoh Industrial 17.
"Yagami again! He already has ten points this quarter!"
Kawata Masashi looked at Yagami's back as he turned to defend. He was thinking. In Ryonan's earlier games, this first-year hadn't been this aggressive about crashing the interior.
And about Sawakita: when Yagami had cut toward the basket, Ikegami had stepped into Sawakita's path and taken him completely out of the play.
"Ryonan came with a plan of their own."
Transition. Sannoh offense.
Fukatsu had barely gotten over half court when Sawakita demanded the ball impatiently.
Fukatsu hadn't planned to pass to him. But the ball went anyway.
SMACK.
Yagami was more alert than Sawakita and stripped the pass before Sawakita's hands could close around it.
"IDIOT!!" Fukatsu's voice came out without any of his usual composed phrasing. He had assumed that a quarter of game time would be enough for Sawakita to settle into the flow. But the real source of alarm was the opponent—under normal circumstances, Sawakita's reaction time was fast enough that intercepting a pass like this should have been impossible.
Yagami controlled the ball. Sawakita, fuming, matched his speed back up the court immediately.
The two of them crossed half court together. By the time they reached Sannoh's three-point line, Sawakita had drawn level at a diagonal angle with his hand reaching toward the ball.
The ball moved ahead at a diagonal.
Sendoh had already cut into the paint. He caught it moving and went up for the layup. Fukatsu was close in pursuit, waiting for the moment to go over the top.
But Sendoh's layup was a decoy. He pulled the ball back and flipped it behind him. Yagami, following in stride, caught it and brought it down with a one-handed slam.
Ryonan 20, Sannoh Industrial 17.
BEEP.
Sawakita, still closing out from behind, had bumped into Yagami as he left the ground. The contact wasn't hard, but the momentum was enough.
"Number nine, Sannoh Industrial. Pushing foul. Basket counts. One free throw."
"YEAH!" The Ryonan section erupted.
Yagami stepped to the line and converted.
Ryonan 21, Sannoh Industrial 17.
Ryonan's first genuine lead of the game.
Beep.
"Sannoh Industrial substitution."
"Number eight, Ichinokura Satoshi in. Number nine, Sawakita Eiji out."
"Number fifteen, Kawata Mikio in. Number five, Nobe Masahiro out."
One minute left in the first quarter, and Sannoh had changed their lineup and pulled Sawakita Eiji off the floor.
"Coach Domoto with another bold adjustment!" the commentator called.
"Though I don't think anyone predicted that Sannoh, who opened with a five-to-nothing lead, would find themselves down four with a minute left." The analyst followed. "Looking at the first quarter as a whole, Yagami for Ryonan clearly outperformed Sawakita for Sannoh."
"Yes. That's accurate."
"Sorato! Amazing!!" In the stands, Chinatsu Yuika heard the commentary and yelled even louder.
Play continued. Sannoh offense.
Ryonan had assumed that since Matsumoto was their primary scoring option in the first quarter, the two substitutions wouldn't meaningfully change Sannoh's attack.
They were wrong. Sannoh pivoted their offense direction immediately.
Fukatsu lobbed the ball into the post. Kawata Mikio (210cm/130kg) received, turned, and casually hip-checked Ikegami Ryoji sideways without visible effort.
"Mikio, no rushing. Same as in practice." Kawata Masashi called from the paint.
"Yes, brother."
Kawata Mikio found his footing, stood in place, and released from his spot.
Ikegami went up with everything he had. His fingertips were nowhere near the ball.
SWISH.
Ryonan 21, Sannoh Industrial 19.
"He's enormous and the touch looks completely effortless!"
"Did he even leave the ground?! And we still couldn't get a hand on it?!"
"He just turned around and nearly knocked the defender over. That's not a foul somehow?!"
"That's the stuff, Mikio!"
As the tallest and heaviest player in the entire national tournament, Kawata Mikio's entrance drew immediate attention from everywhere in the building.
"Heehee, Fukatsu-senpai's pass was perfect. Not too high, not too low." Kawata Mikio soaked up the cheering. "Just right. It was amazing."
"MIKIO! GET BACK ON DEFENSE!" Kawata Masashi bellowed.
"Yes! Sorry, brother!"
Transition. Ryonan offense.
Sendoh pushed through half court and passed to Yagami. The new arrival, Ichinokura Satoshi, was widely acknowledged across the country as a defensive specialist, though at 171 centimeters he was giving away nineteen centimeters to Yagami.
Yagami received and made several drive attempts. Each time he found Ichinokura more formidable than the size difference suggested. The lateral speed was real, the driving-lane prediction was precise, and the fundamental positioning was cleaner than Ikegami's.
Not for nothing did Coach Anzai acknowledge this man as a defensive specialist.
Yagami stopped probing and went straight to a pull-up jumper.
CLANG.
He noticed it as he left the ground. The instant he went up, Ichinokura had stepped directly into him—not to block the shot, but to disrupt the takeoff rhythm. Subtle enough that the referee had no clear call.
Kawata Mikio sealed Uozumi away from the prime rebounding spot. Kawata Masashi grabbed it cleanly.
Ten seconds left in the quarter.
Fukatsu pushed at pace, got held up, and threw the ball backward in stride.
Kawata Masashi caught it beyond the three-point line, went straight up, and released.
"Huh?!"
"What is—"
SWISH.
The buzzer sounded at the same moment the ball hit the net.
Three points.
Ryonan 21, Sannoh Industrial 22.