From the opening tip until now, the game had been unfolding exactly according to Nango's script.
This fact alone stunned the Shohoku players. Even before he sat down, the impatient Sakuragi leaned forward and asked,
"Nango! What do we do next?"
Everyone immediately turned toward him.
Nango tightened the cap of his water bottle and answered calmly,
"Depends on how their coach adjusts. But I doubt they'll let Fukatsu guard me anymore. They'll probably switch to Sawakita… or Kawata. We'll adapt when it happens."
Kawata?
No one really believed Sannoh would let an inside player guard Nango on the perimeter.
That sounded like a terrible idea.
But Nango knew it wasn't impossible.
Kawata wasn't a typical big man.
Just like Nango, he could play all five positions—a rare all-around type with both size and mobility.
Even so, placing Kawata on the perimeter meant weakening Sannoh's interior, forcing Coach Domoto to bring in Little Kawata to compensate.
But that depended entirely on whether Domoto would make such a risky adjustment.
Despite trailing and having their pre-game plan exposed, Sannoh's morale wasn't shaken.
They had weathered countless big games—this situation wasn't enough to affect them mentally.
Coach Domoto opened his mouth to speak—
—but Sawakita cut him off.
"Coach, let me guard him. Fukatsu-senpai is at too big a physical disadvantage."
Domoto actually agreed, but he couldn't bluntly override his captain's dignity. So he turned to Fukatsu.
"Fukatsu… what do you think?"
Fukatsu shot a sidelong glance at Sawakita. He didn't like it, but he wasn't selfish.
He nodded.
"…Fine. Then who do I take?"
"Mitsui," Domoto replied. "Since Shohoku is relying on threes, Mitsui is one of their main engines."
He then turned to the rest of the team.
"Ichinokura, rest. Matsumoto, you're in. Guard Rukawa Kaede. And don't forget to help Fukatsu bring the ball up."
"Understood!" Matsumoto stripped off his jacket immediately.
Domoto continued,
"Don't force isolation plays. Increase off-ball actions—back cuts, exchanges, constant movement. We'll break Shohoku's defense through team offense."
Timeout over.
Both teams returned to the court.
Nobe prepared to inbound.
Fukatsu stood across from Nango—then the moment Nobe received the ball from the referee, Fukatsu shoved Nango aside and sprinted toward him.
This was a change born from being suppressed for so long.
He knew that in static one-on-one situations, he was completely controlled by Nango.
But if he kept moving, he felt he could create passing routes and run the offense properly.
Domoto trusted Matsumoto to help with playmaking, but Fukatsu didn't. Matsumoto was a natural scorer, not a stabilizing point guard.
And now that Sawakita was guarding Nango, Fukatsu felt painfully underutilized.
His pride wouldn't allow that.
He needed to reclaim control—to perform as a proper captain and top-level point guard.
Nobe passed the ball in.
Fukatsu caught it and immediately slashed toward the paint.
Nango didn't give chase right away. He wanted to see what adjustments Sannoh would show on this possession.
So he let Fukatsu go.
The Sannoh captain reached the free-throw line unchallenged, rose for a layup—
Akagi stepped up.
Fukatsu instantly dished the ball out midair.
Kawata caught it cleanly and scored.
Kiyota frowned.
"He's still passing to Kawata? Isn't that the same as before?"
Maki scratched his head.
"Yeah, but Fukatsu's moving now. Their offense is gonna feel different."
Their offensive changes were subtle.
But the defensive adjustments?
Those were impossible to miss.
"Let their ace guard that freshman?"
"Isn't that too much? He's only a first-year! Isn't that overkill?"
Sannoh fans complained as if someone were bullying a child.
Sawakita kept a measured distance—unlike Fukatsu's tight pressure.
He stared at Nango and grinned.
"You were good earlier. Fukatsu-senpai couldn't stop you. But your little performance ends now."
Nango chuckled lightly.
"Is that so? Then I'll just relax for a bit."
He scanned the court, then locked eyes with Rukawa and extended his left hand.
Rukawa instantly understood—bringing Fukatsu near the paint.
He boxed him out, raised a hand, and the rest of Shohoku cleared the side.
They were isolating Fukatsu.
Again.
Nango lobbed the ball in.
Rukawa immediately backed Fukatsu down.
Step by step.
Closer and closer.
Turnaround jumper.
Even with decent defense, Fukatsu couldn't truly interfere.
Aida Yayoi twirled her pen with a knowing smile.
"Shohoku is fully exploiting Fukatsu's weaker physique. This might be the most miserable game of his career."
Fukatsu felt that misery deeply.
Shohoku's entire strategy today was aimed straight at him.
He had never been targeted like this. Normally, teams avoided his side—never attacked through him.
The humiliation burned in his chest.
I'll return this humiliation tenfold…!
Maki watched in silence—thinking.
He had spent his life relying on drives, never bothering with post-up offense. Even after losing to Sannoh last year, all he did was refine his penetration, shooting, and physique.
But this Shohoku?
This Nango-led approach?
It opened new horizons.
He muttered to himself:
"I'm stronger and taller than Fukatsu… Why am I struggling to drive? Wouldn't posting up be easier?"
For the first time—
Maki felt the urge to expand his arsenal.