"Don't panic."
Coach Urano slammed his fist against the whiteboard, his voice firm and steady.
"There's only one thing we need to do right now."
He pointed toward the paint.
"Attack the basket!"
"YES!"
The timeout had been called because Rukawa Kaede's relentless drives and sudden passes had begun to destabilize Shoyo's defense.
After the players returned to the court, Urano quietly took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Who would've thought a practice match could be this exhausting…
He sighed inwardly.
Perhaps I really am getting old.
Up to this point, Shoyo had executed highly targeted tactics.
Yet Shohoku kept neutralizing them through individual brilliance.
Urano's eyes shifted across the court.
First to Nango.
Then to Rukawa Kaede.
Those two had carried Shohoku's offense during crucial moments, keeping the score close while avoiding unnecessary risks. Whenever a situation turned unfavorable, they disengaged immediately and reset the play.
Shoyo could dominate the rebounds.
They could score inside repeatedly.
But strangely enough—
They still couldn't deliver a decisive blow.
Part of the reason lay in Shoyo's roster.
Their starting lineup was too disciplined.
Too "polite."
None of them possessed the overwhelming dominance of players like Shinichi Maki or Hiroshi Morishige players capable of crushing an opponent's morale through sheer force.
Besides, Shohoku had long since understood Shoyo's strategy.
Under these circumstances, the only person likely to fall for their traps was that red-haired idiot—
Sakuragi.
The timeout ended.
Nango returned to the court after his brief rest.
Which meant one thing.
The match had entered its decisive stage.
Shoyo had the ball.
Their formation suddenly shifted.
All four players positioned themselves on the left side of the court.
The right side was completely empty—
Except for Hanagata.
The intention was obvious.
Isolate him.
Shohoku remained calm.
They continued playing man-to-man defense without adjustment.
Because they believed the current Sakuragi could handle Hanagata alone.
More importantly, this arrangement prevented Hanagata from dragging Nango into foul trouble again.
Sakuragi had switched assignments with him.
Just like Nango earlier in the game, Sakuragi immediately began pushing Hanagata out of the paint with brute force.
Hanagata could still receive the ball.
But attacking became difficult.
Fortunately for Shoyo, Hanagata wasn't the type who relied purely on post-ups.
He caught the pass.
Turned.
Faced the basket.
Then raised the ball.
Sakuragi hesitated.
Fake?
It wasn't.
By the time Sakuragi reacted, Hanagata had already completed his release.
With a gentle flick—
Swish.
The ball dropped cleanly through the net.
This was Hanagata's greatest strength.
Against shorter defenders, he didn't need complicated moves.
All he needed was space to shoot.
As long as his touch remained steady, he could score consistently.
However—
This style rarely inflicted decisive damage.
Seeing the shot fall, Coach Urano immediately shouted again.
"Attack the paint! Keep attacking!"
His fist remained raised in the air.
But inside, he sighed heavily.
No matter how brilliant the strategy—
If it couldn't be executed properly, it meant nothing.
Meanwhile, Shohoku's offense had already shifted.
Now that Nango had returned, they technically had two focal points.
But Rukawa Kaede was on fire.
So naturally, the attack revolved around him.
His importance within the offense had quietly risen.
The moment Rukawa received the ball, every Shoyo defender tensed.
Even a single move from him could change the flow of the game.
But this tension was exactly what Urano didn't want.
He frowned.
The team is losing control.
It was as if Shoyo had begun playing cautiously out of fear.
Hasegawa shadowed Rukawa step by step.
He didn't dare gamble anymore.
After several exchanges earlier, he had realized something clearly—
Rukawa Kaede was no longer the "rookie" described in scouting reports.
His strength had already surpassed Mitsui at his peak.
Seeing Hasegawa keep his distance, Rukawa suddenly accelerated.
Two steps into the drive—
Then he stopped abruptly.
Pull-up jumper.
Fortunately, Hasegawa reacted in time.
His long arm interfered just enough.
Miss.
The ball fell between Hanagata and Nango.
Before Hanagata could jump—
Nango was already airborne.
Too early?
Hanagata was confused but instinctively jumped as well.
Then he understood.
Because Nango didn't attempt to secure the rebound.
Instead—
He tipped the ball outward.
Directly toward Sakuragi.
He's feeding the rebound!
Hanagata shouted immediately.
"Takano! Grab the ball!"
But it was too late.
Sakuragi surged forward and snatched the rebound.
Coach Urano leapt to his feet.
Rebounds were Shoyo's lifeline.
They couldn't afford to lose them.
Sakuragi caught the ball.
Instead of passing out—
He attacked.
Pump fake.
Takano didn't bite.
So Sakuragi charged directly toward the basket.
"Sakuragi! Don't underestimate me!"
Takano jumped with both arms raised, forming a towering wall.
Sakuragi's shot struck the backboard—
But before Takano could celebrate—
Sakuragi had already jumped again.
He grabbed the rebound midair.
Then tipped it back in.
Swish.
Takano could only watch helplessly.
"Nice!"
Nango and Sakuragi bumped fists before retreating on defense.
Behind them, Hanagata and Takano wore grim expressions.
"It's just one basket," Fujima said firmly.
"The game is far from over."
Whether those words carried any real reassurance was another matter.
But they had no choice.
They needed a score.
And the best way was through one-on-one play.
Fujima dribbled past half court.
He faced Miyagi at the top of the arc.
Thinking.
Calculating.
What was the best option here?
Then—
"What?!"
Before he could act, Miyagi exploded forward.
He pushed off his right foot like an arrow, lunging directly toward the ball.
It was an incredibly bold gamble.
If the steal failed—
Shoyo would break through instantly.
But if it succeeded—
The reward would be enormous.
Yet Miyagi wasn't acting on impulse.
He had already made his decision.
This possession was crucial.
If Shohoku scored here, Shoyo's morale would collapse.
Even if the gamble failed—
At worst, Shoyo would survive a few more minutes.
But the final victory would still belong to Shohoku.
Because now—
Shohoku had something Shoyo didn't.
The capital to lose.
So Miyagi gambled.
"SMACK!"
His hand struck the ball cleanly.
The steal succeeded.
Fujima froze.
On the sidelines, Coach Urano slowly sat back down.
He stared quietly at the court.
And understood.
The game was already decided.