The coaching staff did not dine on campus. Instead, they followed the host, Coach Kawasaki, to a small pub nearby.
With afternoon training scheduled to begin at three o'clock, they had more than enough time to rest.
Before the dishes were served, Coach Kawasaki raised a small glass and clinked it lightly against Anzai Jitsurei's.
After draining it, he tilted his chin and asked casually,
"Jitsurei, it's only the first day of training. Was it really necessary to make things so intense?"
Anzai returned the toast, smiling as he set his glass down.
"It was just the quickest way to understand everyone's fundamentals. I didn't expect Morishige Hiroshi and Kawata to go at each other like that."
"They've only been here two days—don't let them get injured," Kawasaki warned, then asked, "What about this afternoon? You're not planning another scrimmage, are you?"
Anzai's cheeks flushed slightly as he chuckled.
"What do you think about letting the first- and second-years play against the third-year veterans?"
Coach Kawasaki pointed at him, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Heh. You just want to see whether a team can really be built around those few kids, don't you?"
Anzai smiled and downed another glass.
No explanation was needed.
Anzai Jitsurei stood on the court with his notebook in hand and addressed the players with his usual gentle smile.
"This afternoon, we'll hold a practice match," he announced. "First- and second-year newcomers versus third-year veterans. After this game, today's training will conclude."
The moment he finished speaking, everyone understood—
This match would not be simple.
If the morning's one-on-one tests were filters, then this five-on-five was the real judgment.
Players who had been frustrated earlier clenched their fists inwardly.
Maybe I don't shine in one-on-one… but in team basketball, I can prove my value.
Anzai began announcing the lineups.
"For the newcomers: Morishige Hiroshi, Sakuragi, Sendoh, Rukawa Kaede, and Nango."
A ripple passed through the crowd.
"For the veterans: Kawata Masashi, Tsuchiya Atsushi, Moroboshi Dai, Maki Shinichi, and Fukatsu Shin."
Another wave of murmurs followed.
Before the ball was even tipped, a thought crept into everyone's mind:
If all ten of these players make the final roster… how many spots are left?
Tension, excitement, anxiety, and anticipation intertwined.
This was destined to be a fascinating match.
The ten selected players changed into jerseys and began warming up.
The newcomers wore red.
The veterans wore yellow.
Nango glanced at Sendoh and teased,
"Looks good on you. Interested in transferring to Shohoku?"
Sendoh laughed.
"No thanks. Ryonan's closer to the pier—better for fishing."
Nango smiled, then turned serious.
"Who's running point—me or you?"
"You take it," Sendoh replied easily. "After all, half the Shohoku team is here."
On the other side of the court, Fukatsu was speaking quietly with Maki.
"We'll alternate ball-handling," Fukatsu said. "Whoever Nango isn't guarding will organize the offense."
"No problem," Maki agreed.
It was a sensible arrangement—avoiding unnecessary clashes with Nango while maximizing efficiency.
The assistant coach stepped to center court with the ball.
Morishige Hiroshi and Kawata Masashi took their positions, crouched low, one hand pressed to their chest, eyes locked onto the ball.
The toss went up.
"Hah!"
Kawata roared and leapt first—but Morishige surged from behind, using his superior height and wingspan to tip the ball back.
Nango caught it cleanly.
The newcomers had first possession.
On the sidelines, the substitutes immediately began discussing tactics.
"Three starters are from Shohoku," Uozumi said. "The offense will probably revolve around them."
"Not necessarily," Akagi replied calmly. "At the start, Nango usually feeds the center."
True to his words, once positions were set, Nango lobbed the ball inside.
Morishige caught it, lowered his shoulder, and attacked the same way he had all morning—back down, turn, and force a shot.
But this was no longer the morning session.
After the long break, Kawata was fully recovered.
He held his ground, arms wide and stable, forcing Morishige's hook shot to bounce off the rim.
Tsuchiya secured the rebound and immediately passed to Maki.
Rukawa Kaede was defending him, but the pressure wasn't overwhelming.
Maki pushed the pace.
Both teams sprinted back, and within seconds, all ten players were set.
The tempo was fast.
From the sideline, Anzai Jitsurei quietly analyzed.
The veterans lacked height on the perimeter—three players under 1.9 meters—making penetration more difficult. However, Kawata and Tsuchiya formed a formidable interior duo: athletic, versatile, and experienced.
Everything depended on how Fukatsu and Maki orchestrated the offense.
Maki understood this perfectly.
Still, he chose to probe the paint.
He wanted to test Morishige Hiroshi—and Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Only after feeling them out could he decide on the next move.
He shifted direction, lowered his center of gravity, planted his left foot, and exploded off his right, driving in from the wing.
Rukawa didn't cut him off.
Instead, he stayed tight to Maki's side, subtly guiding him toward the baseline.
Double-team, Maki realized instantly.
He slowed, pulled the ball back beyond the arc, and glanced at Rukawa with a faint smile.
National Tournament experience really changes people.
During the prefecturals, Rukawa had fought alone.
Now, he trusted his teammates.
Rukawa's cold gaze returned only one message:
You won't score.
Maki snorted and attacked again—this time with full commitment.
Even as Morishige rotated over, Maki gathered the ball and jumped, determined to finish through the double-team.
"Bang!"
Morishige's massive hand struck the ball midair.
But instead of knocking it loose, the two were momentarily locked in a deadlock.
"Jump ball!"
The whistle blew.
After landing, Morishige glanced at Maki twice.
This dark-skinned man… wasn't ordinary at all.
The jump ball result was obvious.
After possession changed, Nango dribbled calmly across half court, Fukatsu immediately applying full-court pressure.
Fukatsu hadn't forgotten Nango's terrifying shooting accuracy.
He wasn't giving him an inch beyond the arc.
Nango initially looked toward Morishige—but Rukawa extended a hand, calling for the ball.
In the past, Nango might have ignored him.
Now, he didn't.
The pass came.
Rukawa dropped into a triple-threat stance.
Maki stayed alert—HKainan had already seen how much Rukawa had grown.
Feints. Jab steps.
Maki adjusted constantly.
The moment he retreated half a step, Rukawa exploded.
One dribble.
Two.
He drove Maki to the edge of the restricted area.
Kawata and Tsuchiya were ready to help—
But Rukawa had no intention of going inside.
He planted his right foot, gathered the ball, leaned back, and rose.
Maki jumped with him.
Too late.
A clean pull-up fadeaway.
The ball slipped through the net.
First basket—newcomers.
It wasn't the most rational shot.
But Rukawa Kaede didn't need rationality when he was in rhythm.
Anzai Jitsurei gently shook his head.
"Maki hasn't played official games for a while… while Rukawa is still in finals form."
"The veterans may fall behind early."