During halftime, reporters once again gathered together, sipping tea and chatting casually—though the topic inevitably circled back to the game on the court.
Commentator Fujiwara seized the chance to sit among them. He leaned toward an old acquaintance and said with a sigh of amazement,
"I really didn't expect Shohoku to be this strong. They actually suppressed Sannoh for an entire half. I haven't seen something like this in years! They might really win this game."
The middle-aged man sitting across from him chuckled.
"You're being too optimistic. Look closely at the first-half statistics. Their scoring options are too concentrated, and they're relying heavily on hot hands. The second half… that's where the real test begins."
Fujiwara laughed as well.
"Even if Shohoku ends up losing, their performance has already exceeded expectations. They're a public school, after all. Making it to the finals alone is remarkable—let alone pushing Sannoh this far."
"As expected of a team coached by the 'White-Haired Devil,' Anzai Mitsuyoshi," another reporter added. His hair was already streaked with gray, giving him the air of a veteran.
"They entered the National Tournament and went straight to the finals. Still, I never understood why someone like him chose to coach a public high school team."
He shook his head lightly.
Fujiwara and the middle-aged man exchanged a glance, clearly uninterested in discussing coaching philosophy.
Changing the subject, the middle-aged man said,
"By the way, weren't you a bit too fired up during commentary today?"
Fujiwara scratched the back of his head.
"I couldn't help it. Shohoku really surprised me—especially number 13, Nango Koichiro. His performance today is already on par with Sawakita's last year, don't you think?"
"That much is true," the man admitted.
"But judging a player off just one half is still premature. Let's see how he performs in the second half."
Inside Shohoku's locker room, Ayako glanced at the notebook in her hand, then smiled brightly at Nango.
"You're in great form today! You scored 22 points in the first half. You might even break a new scoring record."
Holding a water bottle, Nango chuckled.
"If it happens, it happens. Winning is more important. Otherwise, it'd just become a 'milestone tragedy.'"
Ayako laughed softly.
"As long as you keep playing like this, we'll definitely win."
Nango nodded in agreement.
Once everyone had caught their breath, Akagi spoke up first. His tone was stern as he looked at Miyagi.
"Miyagi, you were too impulsive today. We can't keep giving Sannoh opportunities like that. They have the ability to come back—do you understand?"
Miyagi clenched his lips and lowered his head.
"Yes, Captain. I won't repeat those mistakes in the second half."
Seeing that Miyagi was genuinely reflecting, Akagi didn't press further. He turned instead to Coach Anzai.
"Coach, do we need to make any adjustments for the second half?"
"Nango," Coach Anzai said calmly, "what do you think?"
"Yes, Coach."
Nango set down his water bottle and spoke steadily.
"Our first-half performance was actually very solid—especially how we limited Kawata's offense and handled their full-court press. Those two areas were key.
But I think their coach will adjust. Kawata will likely move out to the perimeter more in the second half, run pick-and-rolls, then either roll inside to finish or attack directly. That's much more effective than having him wait in the mid-range, and it also opens space for their perimeter shooters.
If that happens, I'll take Kawata. Captain can guard Little Kawata and Nobe inside."
"What about me?" Sakuragi immediately jumped up.
"You'll guard Matsumoto. Don't let him cut inside. Senior Mitsui, you take Fukatsu."
Everyone considered the plan and found no issues.
Mitsui then asked,
"What about offense?"
Nango smiled faintly.
"Does anyone need rest in the second half?"
The entire room immediately turned toward Mitsui and Rukawa.
Smack!
Mitsui slapped the bench and snapped,
"Don't look at me! I didn't even burn that much energy. I'm fine."
All eyes shifted to Rukawa.
"No need," Rukawa replied coldly.
Nango suppressed a smile and nodded.
"Then we'll start the second half with our main lineup, observe Sannoh's adjustments, and adapt from there."
"You're only twenty minutes away from dominating the nation. In these twenty minutes, anything can happen."
Before returning to the court, the starting five gathered in front of Coach Anzai.
His voice was calm but firm as he delivered his final instructions.
"No matter what happens, stay calm. Play every possession properly. As long as you perform at your usual level, you'll be the ones standing on the podium in the end."
He paused.
"Remember—you are the strongest."
With that, Coach Anzai turned and walked back to his seat.
Akagi stepped forward and extended his large hand.
"We are the strongest!"
One by one, everyone placed their hands on top, shouting in unison:
"We are the strongest!"
On the opposite side, Sawakita scoffed coldly.
"They sure are loud. But the title of 'strongest' doesn't belong to them."
Kawata immediately hooked an arm around his neck and cursed,
"You idiot! Stop talking nonsense—we're the ones trailing!"
Sawakita struggled violently.
"You brute! Let go of me! Just give me the ball—I can tie the score in minutes!"
"Oh? Still talking back?" Kawata tightened his grip. "Take this!"
Sawakita's face turned red. He hurriedly slapped Kawata's arm in surrender.
Seeing this chaos, Fukatsu shook his head helplessly and stepped in, pulling Kawata away.
"Enough. The second half is about to start."
As soon as he was released, Sawakita jumped beside Fukatsu and complained loudly,
"It's not my fault! Kawata keeps trying to choke me! Fukatsu, pass me the ball in the second half. I'll prove to this brute who the strongest really is!"
"Hmph!"
Kawata was about to grab him again, scaring Sawakita into immediately hiding behind Fukatsu.
Fukatsu looked at Sawakita seriously.
"One-on-one, I believe you won't lose to anyone. But this is a team game. In the second half, don't get dragged into pointless arguments or forced duels."
He continued sternly,
"You said the title of 'strongest' doesn't belong to them. Then prove it—not with words, but by showing that we are the better team."
Being lectured like a child, Sawakita lowered his head.
"…Alright. I get it."
"Good. Go warm up."
Watching Sawakita leave obediently, Kawata grinned.
"You really know how to deal with him."
Fukatsu sighed.
"If you weren't so violent, he might actually listen better."
Kawata waved it off.
"I can't help it. He gets on my nerves too easily."
Then his expression hardened as he looked toward Shohoku's bench.
"But that number 13—Nango—is even more irritating than Sawakita. In the second half, I'm going to find a chance to teach that kid a lesson."
He glanced at Fukatsu.
"What do you think? Any ideas?"
"Wait for the right opportunity," Fukatsu replied calmly, subtly gesturing toward Coach Domoto.
"And don't forget the halftime plan."
Kawata nodded.
"Don't worry."