In the stands.
Haruko Akagi clasped her hands tightly against her chest.
"Sakuragi, you can do it. The sweat you've shed will never lie."
On the sideline, Coach Anzai stroked his chin, watching the court with a smile.
"Ho ho ho, youth really is wonderful."
Makino Juro yawned and shifted into a more comfortable position.
"The results of all that training should finally awaken. Looks like this show is about to reach its finale."
The game resumed.
Miyagi dribbled across half court and signaled the play.
The ball went inside to Akagi Takenori.
The moment Akagi caught it, three Toyotama defenders immediately collapsed on him, surrounding him so tightly there wasn't even room to breathe.
"Don't even think about shooting!"
Kishimoto Minori pressed hard against Akagi's waist.
Akagi raised the ball above his head and quickly searched for a passing lane.
In the left corner, Rukawa Kaede had already slipped into a perfect open position.
He raised his hand, his expression calm.
It was an almost guaranteed pass.
Akagi was just about to send the ball his way when, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the right wing.
Sakuragi Hanamichi was standing there.
Completely unguarded.
He pointed frantically at himself while staring straight at Akagi.
There was a heart-stopping determination burning in his eyes.
"Trust me."
Sakuragi mouthed the words silently.
Akagi froze.
His reason screamed at him that passing to Rukawa was the safest choice. The ridiculous forced shot Sakuragi had just attempted was still fresh in his mind.
But as he looked into those burning eyes, countless days and nights of training flashed through his mind.
That red-haired idiot had spent day after day drenched in sweat, stubbornly grinding away at those boring shooting drills.
Akagi suddenly gritted his teeth.
"I'll trust this kid one more time!"
His wrist flicked.
The basketball instantly changed direction, sailing over the defenders' heads toward the right side.
"What?!"
Kishimoto's expression changed drastically.
"He didn't pass to Rukawa!"
Iwata Mitsuaki sneered and didn't even bother rushing over to defend.
"Let him shoot!"
"That amateur can't shoot for shit. He's practically giving us free points!"
The spinning basketball landed securely in Sakuragi's hands.
The instant he caught it, it was as if the entire world had been muted.
No laughter.
No defenders.
Nothing.
All that remained in the world was the basket in front of him.
"Phew…"
"This is the sweat this genius shed in Shizuoka."
"I remember every single drop."
A shot starts from the knees.
Sakuragi bent his knees slightly.
The force traveled from the soles of his feet through his thighs and into his core.
"The left hand is only for support."
He gently cradled the side of the basketball with his left hand while his right hand held it firmly.
Then he exploded upward!
His form was textbook-perfect, without a single unnecessary movement.
At the peak of his jump, his wrist moved with effortless softness.
The basketball left his fingertips and traced an extraordinarily high, beautiful arc through the air.
Everyone's eyes were firmly locked onto that orange ball.
Kishimoto Minori stared wide-eyed and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"No way that's going in!"
Rukawa stopped in his tracks and looked up at the ball.
Even Makino Juro stopped tapping his fingers against his knee.
"Swish!"
A crisp, unmistakable sound rang throughout the entire arena.
Nothing but net!
The ball didn't even touch the rim.
The white net rippled beautifully like a wave.
The entire arena fell silent.
Two seconds later, the stands exploded!
"Holy shit! It went in?!"
"That red-haired monkey who only knows how to grab rebounds actually made a mid-range shot?!"
"That form is way too perfect! That's insane!"
The Sakuragi Army threw their arms around one another, jumping and shouting.
"Beautiful! Hanamichi!"
Haruko covered her mouth in excitement, tears welling in her eyes.
"That's wonderful… It really is."
On the court, Sakuragi landed while still holding his shooting form.
He slowly lowered his arms, then turned toward Toyotama's half of the court with an unbearably smug grin.
"See that?! This is the power of a genius!"
He pointed at the dumbfounded Kishimoto.
"Don't ever compare a genius like me to you ordinary mortals. Got it?"
Akagi walked over and smacked Sakuragi on the back of the head.
"What are you standing around for? Get back on defense!"
His voice was stern, but the smile hidden in the corners of his eyes gave him away.
Miyagi ran over and slapped Sakuragi's palm.
"That was one hell of a shot, Sakuragi!"
Mitsui Hisashi snorted arrogantly.
"I'll give you a passing grade. Barely."
Rukawa walked past Sakuragi and said expressionlessly:
"Beginner's luck."
"You damn fox! What did you say?!"
Sakuragi instantly exploded, baring his teeth as he lunged toward him.
Shohoku's half of the court was filled with laughter and excitement.
Toyotama High's half, however, was deathly silent.
Kishimoto stared fixedly at the basket, his molars grinding together.
"What kind of joke is this?"
Itakura Daijiro wiped the sweat from his face, his brows knitted tightly.
"So he made one ordinary shot. What are these country bumpkins celebrating for? New Year's?"
Iwata Mitsuaki shook his aching arm and sneered.
"A blind cat happened to catch a dead mouse. It was pure luck."
In the eyes of these run-and-gun-loving Toyotama players, an uncontested mid-range jumper wasn't even worth mentioning.
They simply couldn't understand why Shohoku was celebrating as if they had just won the championship.
On the other side of the stands, the players from Kainan University Affiliated High School all shot to their feet in shock.
Kiyota Nobunaga's jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he rubbed his eyes furiously.
"What the hell?! Did that red-haired monkey just activate a cheat?! He actually made that?!"
Jin Soichiro adjusted his glasses, unable to hide his amazement.
"His form is extremely precise. There's no unnecessary movement, and his power transfer is as smooth as a textbook demonstration."
Maki Shinichi crossed his arms and suddenly let out a low laugh.
Seeing Kiyota's dumbfounded expression, Maki locked his eyes onto the red-haired boy on the court.
"As long as you're a player from Kanagawa, seeing this would feel like a miracle."
"A month ago, this kid could still dribble the ball straight into his own foot."
Maki paused.
"And now, he can calmly knock down a mid-range jumper under this kind of pressure."
On the Kainan bench, Coach Takato Riki was equally stunned.
"This Sakuragi Hanamichi…"
Takato muttered to himself.
He remembered the footage from the prefectural tournament.
A month ago, this kid had been nothing more than an amateur who knew how to do a three-step layup and mindlessly throw down dunks!
Although he had shown flashes of brilliance in the final, his fundamentals had been terrible.
Takato's gaze passed over the chubby Coach Anzai and finally locked onto the lazy young man sitting on Shohoku's bench.
Makino Juro was leaning against the back of his chair, casually tossing a mint into his mouth.
"Could this guy named Juro be behind all of this?"
Takato narrowed his eyes.
Maki turned his head, his tone more serious than ever.
"Coach, Shohoku's current lineup no longer has any weaknesses."
Kiyota unwillingly curled his lips.
"Tch. That redhead is still a foul machine, isn't he?"
Jin shook his head and hit the nail on the head.
"If he has become a threat from mid-range, the interior defenders will be forced to step out."
"And once that happens, the driving lanes for Rukawa and Makino Juro will become so wide you could run a horse through them."
Takato forcefully waved his folding fan twice before letting out a long sigh.
"Shohoku's final piece of the championship puzzle has finally fallen into place."
On the court, Sakuragi Hanamichi was as excited as an unleashed husky.
He turned around and sprinted toward the bench.
"Old man! Master!"
Sakuragi shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice cutting through the noise of the entire arena.
"Did you see that?!"
"This is the result of this genius's special training!"
"Wasn't that awesome?!"
Coach Anzai cheerfully held out his chubby hand.
"Not bad."
Makino Juro yawned and lazily raised his right hand.
"Not too shabby."
Sakuragi didn't slow down in the slightest, charging over like a gust of wind.
"Clap! Clap!"
Two crisp, resounding high-fives rang out.
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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