72:66. The scoreboard at the top of the gym showed Ryonan leading by 6 points. With six minutes left in the second half, Goro Domoto's knuckles, gripping his tactics board, turned white. He finally raised his hand and called a timeout.
“Mikio Kawata,” his voice cut through the cheers from the sidelines as he patted the boy’s arm, “Don’t hold the ball. Go set a screen for Nobe.”
Mikio Kawata paused, then nodded while clutching the hem of his jersey. Domoto then turned to Masahiro Nobe, his fingertip tapping the key on the tactics board: “After you screen, cut to the basket. Masashi Kawata will feed you the ball. Drive hard.”
Masahiro Nobe’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He glanced at the Ryonan bench—Sakuragi Hanamichi was standing with his hands on his hips, grinning at them, his red hair glaring under the lights.
When the timeout whistle blew, Sannoh’s interior players remained unchanged.
Mikio Kawata indeed stopped trying to post up under the basket. As soon as the ball crossed half-court, he lowered his shoulder and blocked Sakuragi’s path for Masahiro Nobe.
Sakuragi swayed from the impact of that solid frame. By the time he got around, Nobe had already cut to the basket. Masashi Kawata flicked his wrist, and the ball flew past Uozumi’s fingertips into Nobe’s hands— “Slam!” Nobe jumped and threw down a one-handed dunk, the rim vibrating with a hum. 72:68.
“What a play! Masahiro Nobe!” The commentator’s voice boomed, “Sannoh has changed their tactics! Mikio Kawata is setting screens, and Nobe is the main attacker. Ryonan’s rebounding might not be able to hold up now!”
On Ryonan’s offensive possession, Sendo was about to drive when Masashi Kawata suddenly rushed out from the paint to help defend, almost stripping the ball from Sendo’s hands.
Gu Jin was already double-teamed and shut down, so he had no choice but to pass the ball to Fukuda. Mikio Kawata was already posted up under the basket. As Fukuda went for a layup, Mikio Kawata’s fingertip touched the ball, and it bounced off the rim and rolled out—Masashi Kawata extended his arm while grabbing the rebound, forcefully pushing Uozumi behind him, and tipped the ball to Fukatsu.
Sannoh’s fast break, and it was Nobe again.
Mikio Kawata again set a screen at the free-throw line. This time, he set a solid screen. Sakuragi took two steps to catch up, but Nobe had already received Fukatsu’s pass and was stable under the basket. With a flick of his wrist, he turned and shot a hook, the ball grazing the backboard and falling into the net. 72:70.
Taoka Moichi stomped his foot on the sidelines: “Sakuragi! Don’t just chase the screen! Box out for rebounds! Sendo, find an opportunity to give the ball to Gu Jin!”
Sendo gritted his teeth. He also wanted to pass the ball to Gu Jin, but... on the court, Mikio Kawata set another screen.
Masahiro Nobe didn't attack directly this time but passed the ball back to Masashi Kawata. Masashi Kawata backed down and pushed Uozumi away. As he turned for a jump shot, he deliberately slowed his motion—Sakuragi indeed rushed over from the side, but Masashi Kawata flipped his wrist and dished the ball to Nobe, who scored an open layup. 72:72.
The 72:72 score on the scoreboard was glaring. The moment Sannoh tied the game with three consecutive scores from Nobe, Zawa Kita Eiji’s foot moved half an inch closer.
He had only one mission: to block Gu Jin, to block Gu Jin with all his might.
Gu Jin was about to move closer to Sendo to receive a pass when Zawa Kita’s elbow gently nudged his lower back—not a foul, but like an invisible wall, pinning him in place.
He caught a glimpse of Fukuda waving on the weak side from the corner of his eye. Just as he thought of moving past Zawa Kita towards him, Masahiro Nobe suddenly slid over from the paint.
This big man ignored the interior player he was supposed to guard and stood two steps to Gu Jin’s side, arms spread, completely blocking the passing lane.
Sendo held the ball at the three-point line, dribbling for a long time, his gaze sweeping towards Gu Jin several times, but always blocked by the double-team of Zawa Kita and Nobe.
Kazunari Fukatsu was still pressing tightly behind him. He couldn’t wait any longer and had to flip his wrist, throwing the ball to Fukuda on the other side.
Fukuda clearly paused when he received the ball—he had expected it to go to Gu Jin.
But Sannoh’s defensive focus had already shifted with the ball. Masashi Kawata rushed over from behind to help defend. In a hurry, Fukuda could only pass the ball under the basket. Uozumi bravely posted up against Mikio Kawata to receive the ball. As he turned to attempt a hook shot, Nobe had already rotated back on defense, his fingertip touching the ball, which bounced off the backboard and rolled out.
The last few minutes suddenly became a tug-of-war.
Ryonan’s offense was difficult. Sakuragi had to contend with both Mikio Kawata and Nobe when grabbing rebounds. Several times his knees trembled upon landing, yet he still clutched the ball and pushed it into Sendo’s hands.
Sendo drove and dished the ball to Fukuda. Just as Fukuda was about to jump, Masashi Kawata’s hand was already in front of his eyes. The ball could only be passed back, running down the shot clock. Finally, Uozumi scored with a strong move under the basket, barely extending the lead to 74:72.
But Sannoh’s interior was like an impenetrable wall.
Masahiro Nobe again used Mikio Kawata’s screen to cut to the basket. This time, Sakuragi learned his lesson and went directly in front, but Nobe used his body to push him away. This was a legal collision. Although Sakuragi’s athleticism was outstanding, the disadvantage in height was irremediable. Nobe had already scored a layup. 74:74.
The clock kept ticking. Three minutes and twenty seconds, 76:76;
Two minutes and ten seconds, 78:78;
Last minute, 80:78.
The cheers in the gymnasium had long turned into hushed gasps. Even the commentator lowered his voice: “Sannoh’s interior tactics are working… Masahiro Nobe is unstoppable, and Mikio Kawata’s screens are almost flawless. Ryonan’s rebounding is being completely dominated!”
Last 30 seconds, Sannoh’s possession.
Kazunari Fukatsu deliberately slowed his dribble, only moving when the clock showed 15 seconds remaining—Mikio Kawata suddenly rushed over from behind to screen Sendo’s defense. Fukatsu smoothly threw the ball to Nobe. Nobe was tightly guarded by Sakuragi under the basket, but he still turned and shot. As the ball bounced into the hoop, the whistle blew—Sakuragi’s foul.
“And one!” When the referee’s signal went up, Sannoh’s bench erupted.
Masahiro Nobe stood at the free-throw line and calmly sank the shot. 80:81.
Sannoh took a one-point lead.
“Beep—! Ryonan calls a timeout!”
Taoka Moichi practically roared as he rushed to the sideline, slamming his hand hard on the tactics board: “Everyone get over here! Listen—last 15 seconds, the ball must go to Gu Jin!”
The players were all panting as they gathered around. Sakuragi Hanamichi’s red hair was plastered to his forehead in wet strands, and he was still shouting: “Coach! The last shot must go to this genius!”
“Shut up!” Taoka glared at him, but his fingertip drew a circle on the tactics board, “Sakuragi, you go screen Zawa Kita for Gu Jin.
Uozumi, you go to the free-throw line here and set a second screen for Gu Jin—a double screen, completely trapping Zawa Kita and Nobe.
Sendo, you inbound the ball. As soon as you see Gu Jin’s position, pass it to him. Don’t hesitate!”
He paused, his gaze falling on Gu Jin, his voice deepening: “Gu Jin, once you get the ball, attack directly regardless of whether there’s a defender. Whether we win or not depends on this one shot.”
