"Beautiful!"
Kishimoto Minori pumped his fist inside the paint, a wild grin spreading across his face.
On the Toyotama bench, the players who had been sitting in silence all stood up, wildly waving their towels.
"Get back! Get back!"
"Shohoku's on the fast break!"
The five Toyotama players didn't hesitate for even a moment.
Even though the muscles in their thighs were twitching violently from complete exhaustion.
Even though the scoreboard still showed the hopeless gap of 112–87.
Not one of them looked at that cold number anymore.
Every time they dove for a loose ball, every time they sprinted with everything they had, there was an exhilarating sense of freedom in it.
Shohoku's possession.
Miyagi Ryota tore through the defense at full speed.
"Not so fast!"
Itakura Daijiro roared as he spread his arms wide, desperately blocking Miyagi's driving lane.
Miyagi slammed on the brakes, flicked his wrist, and lofted the ball high above the rim.
Sakuragi Hanamichi's dazzling red hair suddenly shot into the air as he prepared to slam the ball through the hoop.
Kishimoto knew he couldn't outjump the red-haired monster, but he still leaped with everything he had, taking Sakuragi's impact squarely against his chest.
"THUD!"
Sakuragi still managed to dunk the ball.
But Kishimoto's collision knocked him off balance, and the two of them crashed to the floor together.
"Hey, ponytail!"
"Are you trying to murder this genius?!"
Sakuragi grumbled as he climbed back to his feet.
Kishimoto remained seated on the floor.
Instead of throwing out one of his usual insults, he simply wiped away his sweat and flashed a carefree grin.
"Cut the crap, redhead!"
"Next time, I'm sending you and the ball straight back down!"
Sakuragi froze.
He scratched his head and muttered,
"Did this guy get beaten stupid by this genius?"
Makino Juro stood outside the three-point line, leaning forward with both hands on his knees while chewing on a mint candy.
Watching the Toyotama players tear into each other like a pack of rabid dogs while actually enjoying themselves, he couldn't help laughing.
"Now this actually looks like the way high school kids are supposed to play basketball."
Time passed.
The cheers inside the arena grew louder and louder.
Everyone had completely forgotten that this was supposed to be garbage time.
The entire crowd was applauding these two teams that had squeezed every last drop of energy from their bodies.
"Ten! Nine! Eight…"
The entire arena began counting down in unison.
Minami Retsu dribbled into the frontcourt and looked at Rukawa Kaede standing before him.
Their eyes met.
There were no words.
Only pure competitive spirit colliding between them.
Minami didn't pass.
Instead, he chose an elegant step-back.
With one second remaining before the final buzzer, he lofted the ball high into the air.
"BEEEEEP!"
The referee blew his whistle, his cheeks bulging as he gave it everything he had.
The piercing final whistle echoed beneath the roof of Hiroshima Sports Arena.
"Game over!"
The basketball struck the back of the rim and bounced high into the air.
In the end, it failed to fall through the net.
Yet Minami felt no regret whatsoever.
He gasped for breath as his legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed onto the wooden floor.
The harsh white lights shone down onto his face.
He stared up at the ceiling and smiled with complete relief.
Kishimoto Minori.
Itakura Daijiro.
The Toyotama players gathered around Minami, supporting one another as they struggled back to their feet.
Every jersey was soaked through and heavy with sweat.
Every face carried the unmistakable look of players who had given everything they had and still weren't ready for the game to end.
They had lost.
But they had nothing to be ashamed of.
The referee walked to center court and raised his right hand, his voice carrying throughout the arena.
"Representing Kanagawa Prefecture, Shohoku High School advances to the second round!"
BOOM!
The Shohoku bench exploded.
"We won! We won!"
Kogure Kiminobu's eyes filled with tears of excitement.
"Our first national tournament victory!"
"That was incredible!" Ayako cried, enthusiastically pounding the tactics board.
"Wahahahaha! Did you see that?!"
"This is the power of the genius savior, Sakuragi!"
"What kind of A-ranked powerhouse? They're all trash in front of this genius!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi planted his hands on his hips and threw his head back in laughter.
"Idiot. That airball you shot in the first half landed in the stands."
Rukawa wiped the sweat from his face as he walked past Sakuragi, casually delivering the finishing blow.
"Damn fox! What did you say?! You wanna fight?!"
Akagi ignored the two clowns completely.
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath filled with the smell of sweat and the lingering heat of battle.
Then he placed one large hand on each of their heads.
"Good work, everyone."
Akagi's deep voice trembled slightly.
This was their first appearance in the Interhigh.
They had endured being suppressed, fought their way back from the brink, and finally won a hard-fought battle.
And now…
Akagi raised his head.
His gaze crossed half the court and settled on the white section of the stands that represented absolute dominance.
Next…
They would finally challenge the king who ruled over high school basketball.
Sannoh High.
At the very top of the stands, that sea of white was already beginning to move.
"Let's go. We've collected enough data."
Coach Domoto Goro closed his notebook and turned away without expression.
Kawata Masashi, Fukatsu Kazunari, and the others all stood up.
Their overwhelming presence caused the surrounding spectators to instinctively hold their breath and make way.
Sawakita Eiji had both hands in his pockets and was just about to turn around when his footsteps suddenly stopped.
He lowered his head.
His gaze was like an eagle locking onto its prey as he looked down at Shohoku's No. 11.
"Shohoku, huh…"
The corner of Sawakita's mouth curled into an amused smile.
"They're pretty weak."
"But that guy…"
"He's kind of interesting."
It was almost like the sixth sense shared by apex predators.
Makino Juro, who had been chewing on his mint candy, suddenly stopped.
He raised his head.
His gaze shot through the noisy sea of spectators like a bullet fired from a gun, landing directly on the highest part of the stands.
Their eyes collided across the arena.
There was no physical contact whatsoever.
Yet in that instant, the air around them seemed to distort beneath the pressure of their terrifying fighting spirits.
Sawakita raised an eyebrow, his eyes carrying the arrogance and provocation of someone looking down from above.
The lazy expression on Makino Juro's face vanished instantly.
In its place was absolute indifference.
He raised his chin slightly.
His lips moved.
The shape of his mouth clearly formed the words:
"Wash your neck and wait to die."
Sawakita froze for a moment.
Then he suddenly burst out laughing.
"What an arrogant rookie."
With that, he turned around and strode after the rest of the Sannoh squad.
Watching the backs of the Sannoh players disappear, Coach Anzai pushed up his glasses.
A sharp white glint flashed across the lenses beneath the arena lights.
"Oh ho ho ho…"
"The real test has only just begun."
Coach Anzai turned around.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure near the exit of the stands.
Coach Kitano was preparing to leave, holding the hand of the skinny boy.
Sensing someone's gaze, Kitano turned around and looked toward the Shohoku bench.
Amid the noisy arena, two silver-haired old men exchanged a glance from across the distance.
Coach Anzai's kindly face, reminiscent of Colonel Sanders, broke into a faint smile.
He slowly raised his right hand.
Coach Kitano smiled, his face crinkling with wrinkles, and waved back.
Then he pointed toward Minami and Kishimoto at center court and gave a small bow.
No words were exchanged.
But the mutual respect between two old-school basketball men said more than a thousand words ever could.
…
Meanwhile.
Across the various tournament venues throughout Hiroshima, the smoke of the first round was gradually clearing.
Announcers in the broadcast booths delivered the brutal results in emotionless, mechanical voices.
"Aiwa Academy versus Yokotama Technical High. The 'Star of Aichi,' Dai Moroboshi, led Aiwa to a crushing 103–58 victory, demonstrating absolute dominance."
"Osaka representative Daiei Academy overwhelmed Fubo High School 81–48. Ace Jun Tsuchiya played only twenty minutes and still recorded a triple-double."
"Shizuoka Prefecture's Josei High School. Their ace, Mikoshiba, sent Haraguchi Commercial High School home with a terrifying 79–34 victory."
…
The teams that had been regarded by the media as the tournament's powerhouses before the games began...
They were bulldozers rolling across the court, mercilessly crushing the dreams of the weaker teams.
One national powerhouse after another demonstrated overwhelming strength that left their opponents in despair.
And they marched proudly into the second round.
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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