Beep!...
The whistle blew, marking the start of the second half.
The jump ball began once more.
Uozumi and Takenori Akagi squared off at center court again.
This time, Akagi moved like an awakened beast—explosive, sharp, unstoppable. The moment he leapt, he was already half a palm higher than Uozumi, his fingertips snapping the ball away with precision.
The basketball arced beautifully through the air, sailing toward Shohoku's side.
As he landed, Uozumi frowned, his expression darkening. The pressure radiating from Akagi was growing heavier by the minute—like an invisible weight pressing down on his shoulders.
That feeling… it was back.
Just like last his first year's Prefectural Tournament, when Akagi completely dominated him—when every movement felt restricted, when even breathing had become difficult.
"Akagi…" Uozumi muttered to himself, fists tightening as a fire reignited in his eyes.
The ball landed in Kogure Kiminobu's hands. He barely had time to set up the offense before a booming voice echoed through the court.
"Glasses! Over here! Pass the ball, quick!"
It was Sakuragi Hanamichi.
He stood beyond the three-point line, waving his arms frantically, shouting loud enough for the entire gym to hear.
Kogure almost stumbled, his eyebrow twitching. "Idiot! If you yell like that, no one's ever going to pass to you. The whole court can hear you!"
He threw a quick glance sideways and immediately passed to Rukawa Kaede.
"Ah—!" Sakuragi stomped his foot in frustration. "Rukawa Kaede, you bastard! That's my ball!"
He charged after him like a crazed monkey, but Rukawa was already flying down the court—swift, focused, untouchable.
Ryonan's defense quickly tightened. In seconds, both teams clashed near the key.
Ikegami Ryoji rushed forward to block, but Rukawa's movements were smooth as water—one crossover, a subtle shoulder feint, then a behind-the-back dribble. In the blink of an eye, he was free.
The moment he stepped inside the free-throw line, Sendoh came in from the side, extending his long arm to cut off the drive.
Rukawa's eyes flickered. With a quick flick of his wrist, the ball slipped behind his back like a snake, flying toward the other side of the paint—right where Takenori Akagi was waiting.
"Come on, Akagi!" Uozumi roared, bracing himself like an iron gate as Akagi caught the ball.
Akagi didn't hesitate. He lowered his shoulders, protecting the ball as the two collided—muscle against muscle, will against will. The sound of their clash echoed like thunder.
Then, in a flash, Akagi's eyes sharpened. His right shoulder dipped, a quick fake to the left, and then he spun right—exploding upward like a cannonball. Both hands raised, he went for the dunk.
Uozumi roared and leapt too, his palm cutting through the air, determined to block it.
The wind howled between them. His fingertips nearly brushed the ball—
—but at the last instant, Akagi's wrist twisted, releasing the ball midair.
'What?!'
Uozumi's eyes widened, his mind blank.
The ball zipped across the court like an arrow, straight to the three-point line.
Kogure had quietly slipped into position on the weak side—unguarded. He caught the pass, rose, and released in one smooth motion.
Swish!
Three-pointer.
Ryonan 56 – 30 Shohoku.
"Good shot!" Akagi bellowed, exhilarated.
A three-pointer right out of halftime—it was exactly the spark Shohoku needed.
Kogure adjusted his glasses, a rare confidence gleaming in his eyes. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Shohoku's morale, like dry grass touched by flame, suddenly caught fire.
On the opposite bench, Ake's gaze swept across the court—cold and sharp as steel.
He knew that repeating their first-half dominance would be impossible. As long as Ryonan didn't falter, they could still win comfortably.
But the real question was—could they maintain that control?
His eyes shifted toward Sakuragi Hanamichi.
That guy hadn't stopped running since he stepped on the court. Like a wound-up spring, he darted everywhere, full of endless energy—but the ball always seemed to avoid him.
He hadn't received a single pass.
Sakuragi's face was stormy as he ran, gritting his teeth. 'Damn it! Why won't they pass to me? Every ball goes to that stupid fox. I'm the secret weapon here!'
"Hey, Sakuragi!"
A shout came from the sideline.
Sakuragi turned his head instinctively—
Thud!
The basketball slammed straight into his face, hitting his nose dead-on.
"OWWW!" He stumbled backward, clutching his face, eyes watering. The ball bounced away—but he barely noticed the pain.
"My ball!"
He lunged for it like a hungry dog.
But before his fingers touched it, a white blur flashed by.
A hand tapped the ball away, steady and controlled.
Rukawa Kaede.
Without even glancing at Sakuragi, he dribbled the ball and bolted toward Ryonan's hoop like lightning.
"Rukawa Kaede, you bastard!" Sakuragi shouted after him, stomping in frustration. "That's my ball! Give it back!"
Rukawa ignored him completely.
He leapt inside the key, faced Uozumi's towering frame, and—midair—executed a double clutch, gliding past the block like a shadow. His wrist flicked lightly.
Swish.
Perfect shot.
"Rukawa Kaede, you damn fox!" Sakuragi barked, chasing after him, his face red with anger. But Rukawa didn't even turn his head—until, almost casually, he muttered, "Thanks for the pass."
Sakuragi froze, face flushing even deeper. "Damn it… you— you jerk!"
From then on, Sakuragi became a spectacle.
He finally got the ball—only to travel.
He went for a block—only to fall for a fake and leap too early.
He joined a fast break—only to crash right into his own teammate, ruining the shot.
Each time, the sidelines erupted with laughter.
But despite all the chaos, the atmosphere had changed.
Shohoku was alive again.
The dull rhythm of the game was gone. Energy, laughter, fire—it was all back.
Ake narrowed his eyes, watching Sakuragi closely.
That idiot had somehow reignited Shohoku's fighting spirit.
And the scoreboard proved it—
Ryonan 69 – 48 Shohoku.
The gap had shrunk to 21 points.
Ake's gaze shifted toward Sendoh.
That guy still hadn't gotten serious.
He knew Sendoh well—calm, composed, always saving his strength until the end.
The other Ryonan players were holding on, but their limits were showing. Against Rukawa and Akagi, they were simply outclassed.
And now, with Sakuragi's wild energy disrupting their rhythm, cracks were beginning to appear.
Ake stood up slowly.
His jacket slid off his shoulders, falling silently onto the chair.
Coach Taoka Moichi noticed and frowned slightly. "You're going in? Shohoku may be catching up, but we still control the game. It won't be easy for them to turn it around."
Ake nodded, calm as ever. "Yeah. It's just a practice game, after all. The goal is to build team chemistry. I should get some court time too."
Coach Taoka studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
Just then, Shohoku launched another fast break.
Rukawa drove in and passed— Akagi grabbed the rebound and scored.
The lead shrank again—to 19 points.
Beep!
The whistle blew.
Ryonan called for a substitution.