Aiwa Academy resumed possession, once again placing the ball in Moroboshi Dai's hands — their clear offensive engine.
Oh? Letting this first-year kid guard me?
Moroboshi raised an eyebrow, amused. Shohoku's defensive switch didn't faze him in the slightest. He was not someone who could be easily contained.
Just like before, Moroboshi forcefully accelerated toward the frontcourt.
But Rukawa Kaede was no ordinary defender — he shadowed him closely, refusing to let him cross half-court comfortably to set up the play.
In terms of pure speed, Moroboshi had the edge. But that advantage shrank once he had to handle the ball. His pace dropped noticeably, allowing Shohoku's defense to recover and take their positions.
Aiwa's opening strategy resembled Toyotama High's run-and-gun approach — relying on fast pushes before the defense stabilized.
However, there was a key difference: Toyotama thrived on individual firepower, while Aiwa's attack was built on tight, small-unit teamwork.
When Shohoku's defense settled, Moroboshi realized the break opportunity was gone. He slowed down, scanning for new openings.
He passed the ball to Fukuoka Yuji, then darted forward to execute a hand-off play.
Not passing to Egawa Tatsuhoshi?
Nango quickly took note. That means he's not confident one-on-one… probably a 3-and-D player.
That was good news for Shohoku — Mitsui could finally catch his breath.
Moroboshi and Fukuoka completed the hand-off cleanly.
Nango hesitated briefly, then chose to chase Moroboshi instead of staying with Fukuoka. Rukawa made the same decision.
Moroboshi, regaining possession, drove down the wing — but his route was odd.
Instead of attacking the open middle, he cut sharply toward the baseline, heading straight into Akagi and Amamiya Hideyoshi's territory.
He pulled up for a jump shot near the baseline.
Nango lunged to block — but before he could close the distance, Moroboshi flicked the ball to Amamiya and continued his run along the baseline.
Sakuragi saw Moroboshi dart past him but didn't pursue — Moroboshi no longer had the ball.
Akagi and Nango double-teamed Amamiya, who didn't panic. Calmly, he swung the ball to Fukuoka Yuji waiting outside the arc.
Fukuoka caught it and immediately raised his arms, ready to shoot another three.
"No way!" Mitsui sprinted toward him.
Fukuoka smirked and dished the ball to Egawa Tatsuhoshi — who, instead of shooting, whipped it to Moroboshi, now wide open in the corner.
No one had marked him.
Moroboshi set his feet, rose, and launched.
"Swish!"
Another clean three-pointer.
Coach Kouzu chuckled softly from the stands, fanning himself.
"Truly delightful. Coach Sakaguchi has trained these kids exceptionally well."
"Their teamwork's seamless," Maki added, smiling wryly. "Shohoku's probably stunned right now."
Even Kiyota, watching from the sidelines, was at a loss.
"Do they always play like this? Then why were they so sloppy during the qualifiers?"
"They didn't have time," Maki explained. "They were trailing too much then — they had to rush. What you're seeing now… this is Aiwa's true form."
Just as Maki said, Shohoku's players were bewildered. They couldn't pinpoint where their defense had broken down — only that Aiwa kept finding open looks.
On the bench, Coach Anzai gripped his teacup tightly. He sensed the shift in rhythm. Aiwa's cohesive teamwork couldn't be countered through individual effort alone. It demanded unified team defense.
He began quietly calculating adjustments, but the players on the floor had no such luxury. They had to respond — right now.
Nango, unlike his teammates, remained calm.
He couldn't solve the defensive puzzle yet, but he knew one thing for sure: offense could buy them time.
He took the inbound pass and pushed forward.
Fukuoka Yuji waited for him at the top of the arc, a hint of tension in his eyes.
As Nango approached, he abruptly paused — then burst forward again, leaving Fukuoka flat-footed.
Fukuoka tried to hold his ground, but Nango's power was overwhelming.
In an instant, the first-year stormed past him like a gust of wind.
This time, Nango didn't stop for a jumper.
He drove straight into Aiwa's paint — right into the waiting arms of Amamiya Hideyoshi and Aoba Yoshi.
It looked reckless. Two 1.9-meter giants guarded the lane.
But Nango didn't hesitate. He rose sharply, body coiled in midair.
Amamiya roared and jumped too, extending his long arms to meet him.
Nango hunched forward, shielding the ball with his body.
Then — at the peak of his leap — he released it off the glass.
"Swish!"
The ball kissed the backboard and dropped cleanly through the hoop.
"Well done, Nango!"
Kano cheered from the stands, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
She had a feeling — Nango was just getting started.
On the court, Fukuoka Yuji grimaced. "Sorry, that was my fault. I couldn't stop him."
"You can't blame yourself," Moroboshi reassured him with a small smile. "That guy's just built different."
Amamiya clapped Fukuoka's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll stop him next time."
Moroboshi's expression hardened. "Their defense is all man-to-man. Keep the ball moving — create open looks. If we stick to the plan, victory's ours."
Then his eyes flashed. "And don't forget — we might face Meihou Industrial in the next round. We're going to pay them back, with interest, for what happened in the qualifiers!"
At the mention of Meihou Industrial, Amamiya's face darkened.
He remembered the humiliation — sitting on the floor after Morishige Hiroshi's thunderous dunk, watching him hang arrogantly from the rim.
He clenched his fists, trembling with fury.
"That bastard Morishige Hiroshi… I'll make him learn the meaning of respect!"
Moroboshi smirked, satisfied at the fire he'd ignited.
"That's it! Keep that energy! Attack harder!"
"Yeah!"
The Aiwa players roared in unison, surging forward with renewed aggression.
Shohoku, meanwhile, felt the pressure mounting. They didn't know what had suddenly lit the fire in their opponents — only that it spelled trouble.
What should we do…?
Coach Anzai's gaze lingered on the court — on Moroboshi, then Sakuragi, Rukawa, and finally Nango.
A thought crossed his mind.
Perhaps… this is the only way.
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