As the referee's whistle blew, Kawaguchi Shota stood at the baseline, ready to inbound the ball.
Looking up, the five Ryonan players had already formed a zone defense in their half-court — Uozumi Jun was anchored under the basket like an iron tower, Sakuragi Hanamichi was buzzing around the free-throw line with his red head, Gu Jin and Fukuda Kiccho were positioned on the sides, and Sendoh Akira roamed the top of the arc; though his gaze seemed unfocused, he saw Rikawa's movements clearly.
"Stick to the tactics we just discussed!" Coach Sato yelled from in front of the bench, tapping his clipboard hard on the words "center," "Itakura! It's up to you!"
Itakura Yuta responded from under the basket, bending his knees even lower.
During the timeout, Sato had explained clearly: Ryonan's triangle and Figure-Eight Convergence were indeed impenetrable, but in their zone defense, Uozumi Jun's center of gravity was always too low in order to protect the rim. As long as they could steadily lob the ball into the paint, they might still have a chance.
After receiving the ball, Kawaguchi didn't pass it back to Takagi at the arc this time, but instead flicked it to the baseline — Watanabe Kenji received the ball, closely guarded by Gu Jin. Instead of charging in aggressively as before, he suddenly sprinted towards the basket.
Gu Jin immediately followed, but after only two steps, Nomura Masato suddenly crashed into him from behind, setting a solid screen for Watanabe.
"The pick-and-roll worked!" The commentator's voice rose by half a note.
Watanabe used the screen to burst past the free-throw line, and Itakura Yuta immediately shifted half a step outwards, deliberately drawing Uozumi Jun away from the paint.
Just as Uozumi's attention was drawn by Itakura, Watanabe flicked his wrist, and the ball slid along the floor towards the basket — Itakura had already circled behind Uozumi. As he bent down to scoop up the ball, he leaped up, his arm tracing a rough arc in the air.
Uozumi Jun reacted quickly, turning and jumping to block, but Itakura didn't shoot directly; it was a pump fake—!!!
As soon as Uozumi landed, Itakura, facing Uozumi's body, extended his hand and tipped the ball into the hoop.
"Swish!" The whistle followed — Uozumi's arm brushed Itakura's wrist as he came down.
"2+1!" Coach Sato pumped a fist in front of the bench.
Itakura stepped to the free-throw line, flicked his wrist, and sent the ball through the net without touching the rim. 15:5.
The Rikawa cheering section in the stands finally stirred. As Itakura landed, he gasped and glanced at Uozumi. Uozumi frowned, saying nothing, only retreating further under the basket, his center of gravity noticeably more agile than before.
After Ryonan inbounded the ball, Sendoh Akira dribbled past half-court. Just as he was about to initiate the triangle offense, Watanabe suddenly stuck close to him.
This time, he didn't resort to dirty tricks, but simply spread his arms, firmly holding his position, his breathing full of fierce determination.
Sendoh smiled, flipped his wrist, and tossed the ball to Gu Jin. As Gu Jin raised his hand outside the three-point line, Takagi Yuta suddenly lunged from behind, his fingertips almost touching the ball — Rikawa's defense was twice as tight as before.
"They're finding their rhythm!" The commentator's voice held a hint of surprise.
Gu Jin didn't panic, gently dropping his wrist. The ball slipped under Takagi's arm and landed steadily in Fukuda Kiccho's hands.
Just as Fukuda was about to drive, Nomura Masato stuck to him again. This time, he resorted to pulling and tugging, and the referee's whistle immediately blew — a defensive foul.
Fukuda stepped to the free-throw line, making one of two shots. 16:5.
But Rikawa didn't lose composure.
Kawaguchi dribbled past half-court, this time directly lobbing the ball to Itakura.
Uozumi Jun reached out to steal, but Itakura suddenly slammed the ball to the ground, using the bounce to slip under Uozumi's armpit.
Nomura Masato rushed to the basket, received the ball, and leaped up — Sakuragi Hanamichi lunged from the free-throw line to block, and the two collided with a dull thud in the air, but the ball still grazed the rim and fell in.
"Two points count! And one free throw!" The referee pointed to the free-throw line.
Nomura made the free throw again, 16:8.
In the Hainan Team's section of the stands, Maki Shinichi frowned: "They've found a way."
Jin Soichiro nodded, looking at the court. Ryonan's zone defense had indeed loosened slightly due to Rikawa's inside attack.
But Ryonan's adjustment was even quicker.
On the next possession, Uozumi Jun was no longer led by Itakura. Just as Itakura was about to receive the ball, Uozumi suddenly pushed forward, firmly positioning himself between Itakura and the passer, and hooked the ball away with his fingertips.
"Great steal!" Uozumi threw the ball to Sendoh. As Sendoh dribbled past half-court, he suddenly tossed it into the air — Gu Jin chased from the right wing, his body arching in the air as he leaped, slamming the ball down fiercely the moment his fingertips touched it.
"Slam!"
The sound of the dunk shook the cameras on the sidelines. 18:8.
Rikawa didn't lose heart.
Kawaguchi again used a pick-and-roll to drive to the basket. This time, Sakuragi Hanamichi came over from behind to help, firmly pinning him to the ground — the referee called a foul on Sakuragi, and Kawaguchi made one of two free throws. 18:9.
Back and forth they went. Rikawa, relying on Itakura's tough play in the paint and Watanabe's occasional drives, finally managed to keep the score from looking too bad.
But Ryonan's offense was simply too smooth: Gu Jin consistently made shots from beyond the three-point line, Sendoh Akira's passes always found their way through gaps, and Sakuragi Hanamichi jumped higher than anyone when rebounding. Even if Rikawa managed to stop an attack, they were immediately hit with a fast break.
In the last two minutes of the first half, Itakura again drew a foul from Uozumi under the basket, making both free throws.
But Gu Jin immediately sank a buzzer-beater from beyond the three-point line, a swish.
The scoreboard froze at 43:28.
Maki Shinichi tapped his fingertips gently on his knee, his gaze still fixed on the court, a low chuckle escaping his throat: "This Rikawa, they really had something hidden."
Takato Riki, beside him, tugged at the collar of his coach's uniform, his eyes showing little surprise, but rather a sense of understanding: "To keep the score within a 15-point difference at halftime already exceeds expectations.
Look at their adjustment with the inside attack and outside perimeter defense; it's quite a bit faster than we predicted before the game. Itakura's fakes and pick-and-roll combinations really exploited the weaknesses in Uozumi's center of gravity."
"But that's as far as it goes," Takato Riki's tone shifted. "Rikawa's adjustments are 'targeted,' but Ryonan's strength is 'comprehensive.'"
Maki Shinichi nodded in agreement: "Rikawa relies on Itakura's tough play to score, but Uozumi is not that easy to deal with.
Furthermore, they can stop Sendoh's initial drive, but they can't stop Gu Jin's three-pointers and Fukuda's fast breaks."
"More importantly, it's stamina," Takato Riki's voice deepened. "Rikawa is relying on sheer effort right now; every pick-and-roll, every drive is draining their energy.
But Ryonan? Sendoh is still slowly controlling the pace, and Sakuragi is bouncing around even more enthusiastically than at the start of the game.
They won't last ten minutes in the second half. Once Rikawa's defensive intensity drops, the score will only widen."