44:30.
Shohoku still held a 14-point lead.
As Makino Juro collapsed back onto the bench, the suffocating pressure that had gripped the entire gym finally dissipated.
The air seemed to flow again.
Spectators clutched their chests, gradually finding their rhythm of breathing.
"Phew… that monster finally subbed out."
On Ryonan's bench, Koshino Hiroaki wiped the cold sweat from his forehead like someone who had just taken a tour through the gates of hell.
"If he stayed on for a few more minutes, I swear Captain Uozumi might've retired on the spot."
Coach Taoka Moichi crossed his arms. Though his face remained grim, the tension in his shoulders had clearly eased.
No matter what—
that "bug" named Makino Juro was finally off the court.
"This is our chance!"
Taoka suddenly clenched his fist and roared toward the court, spittle flying:
"Akagi's injured—that's their weak point!"
"Attack the paint! All of you!"
"Take back every point we lost—with interest!"
…
In the Shoyo section, Hanagata Toru adjusted his glasses, his brows tightly furrowed.
"Has Coach Anzai gone senile?"
"Makino Juro was clearly dominating Uozumi—why sub him out for an injured Akagi?"
"Wouldn't it be better to press the advantage and crush Ryonan in one go?"
To him, this decision was nothing short of releasing a tiger back into the wild—basically handing the opponent free points.
Fujima Kenji, seated in the front row, let his chestnut hair sway slightly as his gaze deepened.
"No, Hanagata… your perspective is too narrow."
Fujima looked toward Juro, who was already resting with his eyes closed on the bench, and gave a faint, wry smile.
"Makino Juro is Shohoku's sharpest spear—but he's too strong. So strong that he feels like an outsider dropped from the heavens."
"But Akagi Takenori is different. He's the soul of Shohoku."
"Only when he stands firm does Shohoku become a true team."
At this point, Fujima's eyes sharpened.
"And if Akagi chose to run away at a moment like this…"
"Then Shohoku's backbone would snap."
…
On the court, the whistle blew. The game resumed.
Akagi Takenori stood under the basket, the hardwood beneath his feet feeling as hard as iron.
Cold sweat slid down his temples, shattering before it could even hit the floor.
"AKAGI!!"
Uozumi Jun's roar exploded in his ears like thunder.
Reborn with fury, Uozumi now resembled an enraged bull...
his entire body radiating a violent intent to repay every ounce of humiliation he had suffered.
Back to the basket.
he drove in hard, his massive frame slamming backward.
BANG!
The dull thud of colliding muscles made teeth ache.
Akagi let out a muffled grunt, instinctively giving way—retreating half a step.
That half-step…
was fatal.
Uozumi seized the moment..
spin, jump—
two-handed dunk!
BOOM!
The rim wailed.
44:32.
Ryonan's previously lifeless momentum reignited instantly with that thunderous slam.
"Nice one, Captain!"
"Strike while he's weak!"
…
Possession switched.
Miyagi Ryota brought the ball up.
Seeing Akagi posting up inside, he flicked his wrist and fed him the pass.
Akagi caught it—
just as he was about to power through—
the doctor's warning suddenly echoed in his mind:
"If you get injured again, your basketball career is over."
That sentence struck like a tightening curse, freezing his movement for a split second.
And in that moment of hesitation..
a long arm shot out like a venomous snake.
SMACK!
Sendoh Akira!
No one knew when he had abandoned Rukawa Kaede—
like a ghost, he slipped into the paint and stole the ball clean from Akagi.
"Fast break! Move!"
Without hesitation, Sendoh launched a one-handed outlet pass.
The ball streaked across the air like a straight beam of light.
Fukuda Kicchou, like a predator catching the scent of blood, sprinted ahead.
Catch—layup—smooth as flowing water.
Swish.
44:34.
The lead shrank to 10 in an instant.
"What the hell was that?!"
"Are you sleepwalking?!"
"You got stripped on a play like that? You're Akagi!"
From the stands, Aota Ryuhiko slammed the railing in frustration, looking like he wanted to jump down and play himself.
"Akagi's ankle… he's scared. He doesn't dare to go all out."
Kogure Kiminobu gripped his towel so tightly his nails dug into his flesh.
…
The next few minutes became a nightmare for Shohoku.
Akagi Takenori—
once their unshakable pillar..
had become the biggest defensive liability.
On defense, he didn't dare to jump.
On offense, he didn't dare to fight for position.
Uozumi scored over him at will, like it was a practice drill.
Meanwhile, Sendoh Akira operated with surgical precision—
cutting through the defense again and again, delivering the ball to Akagi's most vulnerable spots.
"Swish!" — Sendoh's pull-up jumper pierced the heart.
"Boom!" — Uozumi grabbed the offensive rebound and put it back.
The scoreboard kept ticking.
46:40.
In the blink of an eye, the 14-point lead had been chewed down to just 6.
The arena erupted.
Ryonan's supporters banged drums and shouted, as if they had already won.
Meanwhile, on Shohoku's side.
the atmosphere felt like a funeral.
…
"BEEP!"
Dead ball.
Akagi stood near the free-throw line, his lungs wheezing like a broken bellows.
Sweat blurred his vision, the world turning hazy.
He looked at Uozumi celebrating with Sendoh—
then turned his head toward the bench.
There—
Makino Juro sat with his head tilted, seemingly lost in thought.
The image of Makino Juro earlier..
that effortless dominance, as if reducing everything to dust with a smile—
played on repeat in Akagi's mind like a slideshow.
The one-handed rebounds.
The calm, absolute blocks.
Compared to that—
his current self…
was nothing but a joke.
"What… what am I even doing…"
Akagi clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"I'm the captain… and I don't even have the courage to jump anymore."
"Am I… really worse than that lazy brat who just wants to lie down all day?"
Self-doubt spread like poisonous vines—
wrapping tightly around his heart, suffocating him.
He stood frozen, eyes unfocused..
the surrounding noise morphing into countless mocking voices.
Just as his resolve was about to shatter—
a red figure swaggered into view.
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
No one knew when he had strolled back from the frontcourt.
His face was full of irritation, like the whole world owed him money.
All eyes instantly locked onto him.
On Shohoku's bench, Coach Anzai's glasses flashed.
Makino Juro's lips curled slightly, watching with amusement.
"Oh ho… the classic scene's about to happen."
"I've got a bad feeling about this…"
In the stands, Takamiya Nozomi stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth, raising an eyebrow.
…
Under everyone's gaze.
Sakuragi walked up to Akagi and stopped.
The two were similar in height.
But at this moment...
Akagi stood there, head lowered, lost in doubt—
and was completely overwhelmed by Sakuragi's presence.
Sakuragi tilted his head, staring at Akagi's pitch-black expression for two seconds.
Then—
in front of everyone..
including Uozumi, Sendoh, and thousands of stunned spectators whose jaws nearly hit the floor—
Sakuragi Hanamichi grabbed Akagi's shoulders like iron clamps.
Leaned back.
Charged up.
That flaming red hair traced a blazing arc through the air.
BANG!!!
A dull, scalp-tingling impact echoed through the court—
vibrating straight into everyone's ears.
A headbutt.
Solid. Brutal. No frills.
And carrying just a hint of personal grudge.
END OF CHAPTER
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