Nanaho crossed the hardwood court, the faint squeak from her sneakers following her steps. They were truly impressive… especially Hayato's team. They kept the pressure until the final moment and pulled the score back, her eyes tracing the painted lines beneath her as she moved.
Nanaho stepped toward Hayato's team and let a small smile settle on her face. "Good work, everyone," she spoke, her eyes resting on their tired shoulders.
Hayato bent forward with his hands braced on his knees, his breath leaving him in short pulls. "That is easy for you to say, but we are at a bit of a disadvantage in this match, Nanaho." He straightened enough to pull off his damp headband, wiping a towel across his forehead and the back of his neck to clear the sweat collecting there.
Takahiro adjusted his jersey, lifting the fabric to let cooler air reach his skin. "He is right. Even with Liam in the paint, it is still difficult for us. The combination of Makoto, Yukio, and Tetsuo is troublesome to guard." A faint tremor moved through his arms as he steadied his posture, the strain of the last play still lingering.
Liam rose from the bench with a quiet stretch through his shoulders. "I feel the same. Even if I can score on each possession, three points are still greater than two." A small smile formed as he turned his eyes toward Tetsuo on the opposite side.
Noboru turned his face to the side, tension tightening along his jaw. "If you would pass to me more, Hayato, we would be ahead in this match already." His fingers curled at his sides, the frustration clear in his posture.
Hayato straightened his back, the firmness in his stance sharpening the air around him. "What are you saying? I passed to you many times, and you had more than enough chances to score. Instead, you only pass the ball to Liam." His gaze held steady, his eyes unmoving.
Noboru slammed his palm lightly against the wooden bench, the sharp thud filling the space. "The humiliation I felt… it is all because of you! That amateur outplayed me, and it is your fault."
Nanaho stepped forward, her hand striking Noboru's shoulder. A dull thud echoed as her knuckles pressed against the fabric and muscle beneath. Her eyes narrowed sharply.
Noboru recoiled, pressing his hand against the sore spot and shifting his weight. "Ouch… please stop that. It really hurts, damn it."
Nanaho smiled, though Noboru could sense the restrained anger behind it. Her fingers tapped the clipboard lightly as she inhaled deeply. "First, I have not forgotten what you did earlier—arguing with those girls when you should have been focusing on the game. You must not let anything distract you. There will always be a crowd. That is basic sense if you want to win.
She pressed her thumb against the edge of the clipboard, eyes narrowing slightly. "And there is another thing troubling me. You are making excuses, saying it was Hayato's fault that Shino outplayed you. Do not say that again."
Nanaho turned her face slightly away, closing her eyes as she spoke firmly. "You do not know what Shino has gone through to improve and keep up with the team. He trains extra after regular practice. He does not rest and does not hold back. Do not blame anyone for him outperforming you. Blame yourself for your inability to guard him. He has improved greatly, and at this rate, he is probably stronger than you now." She narrowed one eye slightly, watching his reaction.
Noboru straightened his back, the tension in his shoulders shifting into a sharp focus. A small smirk curved his lips. "Then I will show you that you are wrong."
Nanaho patted him lightly on the back, a teasing curve to her lips. "That's the spirit. Go get them, tiger."
Hayato's eyes followed her, sensing she was baiting him.
She pulled the tactics board from under her arm, flipping it open with a sharp click. The dry-erase marker moved across the surface as she sketched the positioning. "Everyone, gather around. I have a strategy to help keep Tetsuo from making too many threes and win this game. Let's see how they respond to this."
Yukio squinted from the sideline, his shirt clinging to his back, hands resting firmly on his hips. "It seems Nanaho is planning something with them."
Shino brushed his damp bangs from his forehead, eyes following Nanaho's movements closely. "What…? That is not fair."
Makoto rotated his wrist once, eyes drifting lazily toward Nanaho. "I am sure she noticed the imbalance in each team and is helping them even it out. Her plan is clear. It will be no problem to counter."
Yukio straightened his shoulders, eyes meeting Makoto's with quiet determination. "I suppose we are on the same page, Makoto. Let's do this."
Nanaho blew the whistle, the sharp sound cutting through the gym. She raised her eyes to the players. "Alright, everyone, let us resume the game. Give it your full effort." The players moved into position, their feet brushing lightly against the floor.
Shino gripped the ball firmly, bouncing it once before sending it toward Makoto. Makoto caught it with both hands, settling into a controlled dribble. His eyes scanned the court, assessing the new defensive formation.
Hayato closed the distance, lowering his stance and matching Makoto's movements. Takahiro stayed close to Tetsuo, hands raised and knees bent, denying him at every step. Liam and Noboru moved nearer to the paint, adjusting with each offensive shift to close openings.
Makoto tapped his shoulder lightly, signaling Yukio and Shino. A small smile formed on his lips. I see… that is her plan. A triangle-and-one. Takahiro guards Tetsuo to stop his threes, while the others cover zone. Not bad, but we already anticipated this.
Without hesitation, Shino pivoted, sliding his feet to set a screen against Takahiro. Tetsuo moved quickly around it. The contact pressed firmly, and Takahiro's shoulder thudded into Shino's chest, making Shino wince and shift his balance slightly.
Damn, Takahiro thought, gritting his teeth as he adjusted his footing, only to run into another screen from Yukio, who had stepped up just in time.
Tetsuo cut out to the perimeter, catching Makoto's pass in stride. He rose smoothly, elbows tucked, wrists flicking sharply. The ball rotated through the air and slipped cleanly through the net.
The girls clapped from above, voices rising together. "Nice shot, Kawaguchi!"
Nanaho blinked slightly, momentarily caught off guard by the precision. Makoto is smarter than he appears. It was only a minor adjustment, not a full strategy, but still he bypassed it effortlessly. He is really skilled… With him, we finally have a team worthy of the Inter-High.
Hayato moved quickly up the court, eyes sharp and focused. His hands gripped the ball firmly as he passed it to Takahiro. "Stop spacing out! Let's score one back!"
Takahiro held the ball in a triple-threat stance as Tetsuo stayed close. He signaled Liam forward. Liam planted his wide frame at the arc, giving Takahiro space to dribble toward the free-throw line. He rose and released the shot smoothly. The net snapped sharply as the ball passed through.
Makoto moved down the court, dribbling with firm control. He shifted slightly to the left, then surged to the right, passing Hayato. His steps were precise and grounded, body balanced as he released a soft two-pointer.
Liam reacted immediately, catching Takahiro's pass and charging into the paint. His steps pressed firmly against the floor. Rising above a fearful Shino, he extended his arms and slammed the ball through the rim.
Shino's hands tightened on the ball, a quick intake of breath passing through him as his eyes widened slightly. Ah… he's… too strong… I can't even think about stopping him… he's… terrifying…
Makoto dribbled the ball, keeping his body between it and Hayato's pressure. His eyes swept the court, and without breaking rhythm, he sent a bounce pass between Takahiro and Noboru to Yukio. Yukio adjusted quickly and moved toward the paint, feinting a shot. Liam leapt, arms extended, ready to block—but Yukio did not release the ball. With a smooth dribble, he bypassed Liam and laid the ball off the backboard.
Near the stairs, a girl waved her hands excitedly, voice carrying upward. "Nice one, Yukio-senpai!"
Nanaho's eyes flicked rapidly between the players, following every movement. Defense does not seem to matter here. This is run-and-gun—fast, free-flowing, with little focus on set plays or guarding. They are testing each other constantly, seeing who will come out ahead.
We are down six points, Hayato thought, dribbling at the top of the three-point line.
Liam positioned himself firmly inside the paint, blocking Yukio. A small smile curved his lips. "Do not worry, Hayato. I will catch the rebound if you miss."
Can't break through… Yukio shifted quickly, struggling to regain position.
Hayato smirked. "Thanks, big guy." He faked to the right. Makoto reacted instantly, and Hayato crossed sharply to the left. He flicked his wrist as he leapt into the air.
The ball rotated perfectly, cutting cleanly through the net.
Hayato pumped his fist once, a bright grin on his face. "Yes! It went in!"
Makoto increased the pace, slipping past Liam's reach and passing to Yukio. Yukio faked to the right. Liam shifted his weight, and Yukio moved left toward the paint. As Liam leapt to recover, Makoto cut in behind him, catching a quick pass and finishing with an uncontested layup.
Team Hayato responded immediately. Noboru cut sharply, catching the ball at the wing, and drove into the lane. He brushed past Yukio and laid the ball softly into the hoop.
Makoto advanced steadily, eyes sweeping the court. He passed the ball to Tetsuo. As soon as it touched his hands, Tetsuo took a strong dribble, feeling the ball snap against the hardwood, then accelerated past Takahiro. Takahiro froze for a moment, stunned by the sudden burst of speed.
Tetsuo took two measured steps toward the paint. Liam timed his movement precisely, pushing off the floor and rising, arms extended to block.
Tetsuo shifted the ball slightly to the left, adjusting midair, muscles coiling as he released it. The ball spun cleanly, slicing through the net. When he landed, his back hit the floor with a heavy thud, the impact rattling through his spine.
Near the stairs, Harumi and the other girls from their grade leaned forward, voices rising with concern. "Tetsuo! Are you okay?" "Did you hurt yourself?" Their hands gripped the railing tightly, eyes wide.
Tetsuo let out a quiet groan. As he opened his eyes, he saw Liam extending a hand, a small smile on his face. "That was a good layup, Tetsuo."
Tetsuo grasped it, feeling the firm pressure as Liam pulled him to his feet. He inhaled slowly, chest rising and falling steadily. "Thanks..."
Nanaho exhaled slowly, the air escaping with a soft whoosh. Thank goodness… we cannot afford for him to be injured.
Noboru passed to Takahiro. Using his momentum and body, Takahiro created just enough space to rise past Tetsuo and finish at the rim.
Yukio caught the next pass in the paint, stepped back with a sharp pivot, and released the shot. The net rippled as the ball dropped cleanly through.
Liam received the ball on the low block, spun to dislodge Yukio, and leapt into a two-handed dunk. The rim rattled sharply as he landed, the hardwood thudding beneath his feet.
Trying to widen the gap, Yukio and Shino sprinted to opposite sides and set a double screen. Tetsuo dashed into the open zone, received the ball, and released a three-pointer. The net rippled silently as the ball sank.
Takahiro pressed his hands to his hips, chest rising rapidly. Crap… there is no way we can come back after that.
Hayato tightened his shoelaces at the free-throw line, then pushed off into motion. "Do not let up, Takahiro! Keep pushing!"
Liam stepped up, planting his feet firmly to provide a clean screen. Hayato slipped past the help defense and released a low, smooth layup, wrist flick precise and decisive.
Makoto returned calmly, executing a crossover on Hayato and launching a floater just above Liam's outstretched hand. The ball fell cleanly through the net.
Hayato advanced quickly, lobbing the ball to Liam. Liam leapt mid-stride and flushed it down with force, landing hard on the balls of his feet.
On the next play, Yukio set a screen on Takahiro at the elbow. Makoto's pass arrived perfectly timed. Yukio rose and drained the midrange two-pointer.
"Noboru, set a screen for Takahiro now!" Hayato commanded, voice sharp, sweat dripping from his forehead.
Noboru stepped in, bumping Makoto just long enough for Takahiro to cut toward the basket. He caught Hayato's bounce pass and laid it up cleanly.
"Forty seconds left! Full-court pressure!" Hayato's voice cut through, every player on his team snapping into position.
"Yes!" they responded together, feet shifting rapidly, bodies lowering into defensive stances.