After those two thunderous dunks, the rim on Koyo Junior High’s basket was still humming from the impact—and with every lingering vibration, their morale seemed to sink even further.
The remainder of the game became a one-sided massacre centered around the paint.
On defense, Sakuragi and Oda stood beneath the basket like two towering iron gates.
Every time a Koyo player drove into the lane and looked up, they didn’t see the rim.
They saw two giants.
And two pairs of arms waiting to swat away anything that came near.
Sakuragi, in particular, was terrifying on the boards.
The instant the ball bounced off the rim, he was already airborne.
Every rebound he grabbed carried a ferocity, as though the basketball personally owed him money.
On the sideline, Koyo Junior High’s coach paced anxiously.
“Double-team him!” His voice echoed through the entire gym.
“Box him out!” “Don’t let him jump!” He shouted until his throat was nearly raw, but nothing worked.
No one could stop the red-haired monster.
Their problems only got worse on the offensive end.
Whenever Sakuragi caught the ball in the low post, the Koyo players reacted like frightened mice spotting a cat.
Two defenders rushed at him.
Then three.
They practically wrapped themselves around him, desperate to stop him.
It was the first time Sakuragi had ever been defended this way during a game.
For a moment, he was genuinely confused.
His first instinct was simple—power through it.
He spun, elevated, and forced up a shot through two defenders.
Miss.
The whistle blew.
Offensive foul.
The second time, he tried exactly the same thing.
Another whistle.
Another offensive foul.
From the sideline, Coach Takeda shouted, “Sakuragi!
Don’t force it!
Pass the ball out!” Sakuragi gritted his teeth.
The third time he received the ball, the double-team came again.
This time, he finally learned.
Instead of forcing his way up, he flicked the ball out to Oda, who had cut into open space.
Oda caught the pass with no defender anywhere near him.
Everyone had collapsed onto Sakuragi.
He took one dribble, rose for a mid-range jumper— Swish.
Nothing but net.
The Koyo coach was completely out of ideas.
Double-team Sakuragi?
Oda scores.
Leave Sakuragi one-on-one?
He dunks without mercy.
And if you gave him too much room, he could even knock down a mid-range shot.
The coach repeatedly sketched and erased plays on his tactical board before finally accepting one brutal reality.
The problem wasn’t strategy.
It was ability.
No matter what he drew, his players simply couldn’t execute it.
They were only fourteen- and fifteen-year-old middle school students.
Getting them to run a proper pick-and-roll was already difficult enough.
Expecting them to switch seamlessly between multiple defensive schemes in the middle of a game?
That was nothing more than wishful thinking.
The halftime buzzer sounded.
42–23.
Wakou Middle School held a commanding 19-point lead.
The Koyo players trudged back to the locker room with their heads hanging low.
Whatever their coach said inside—Don’t give up.
There’s still a second half.
We still have a chance.
His voice was loud.
But very few of them were truly listening.
Their unfocused eyes looked like those of people who still hadn’t recovered from a devastating punch.
The second half began.
The Koyo players stepped back onto the court with heavy feet.
Their fighting spirit had all but vanished.
Their eyes had lost their fire.
Meanwhile, Wakou’s Twin Towers continued their relentless domination.
Sakuragi ravaged the paint, pulling down rebound after rebound.
His defense became even more outrageous.
A small Koyo guard recklessly drove into the lane and floated up for a layup.
Just as the ball left his fingertips— Smack!
A massive hand came flying in from the side, sending the ball soaring all the way beyond the three-point line.
Fortunately, one of his teammates managed to recover it.
Sakuragi landed, glanced casually at the stunned guard, then turned and sprinted back on defense.
The guard remained frozen beneath the basket.
He looked at the rim.
Then at Sakuragi’s retreating back.
His face was filled with utter disbelief.
The chemistry between Oda and Sakuragi grew stronger with every possession.
Sometimes Oda would drive into the lane, draw the defense, then toss the ball toward the rim— Sakuragi would soar in from behind for another alley-oop dunk.
Other times, Sakuragi established deep position in the low post, forcing a double-team before kicking the ball back out.
Oda would catch it and calmly bury another mid-range jumper.
The two of them meshed together like perfectly synchronized gears.
Once they started turning…
They only spun faster and faster.
Twelve minutes into the second half, the lead had already ballooned past thirty points.
Seeing the outcome was no longer in doubt, Coach Takeda substituted the starters.
The final buzzer echoed through the gymnasium.
78–36.
Wakou Middle School won in overwhelming fashion.
The instant the scoreboard froze on that final score…
The Wakou cheering section erupted.
Thunderous cheers rolled through the arena like crashing waves.
“Sakuragi!” “Sakuragi!” “Sakuragi!” No one knew who had started the chant.
But within seconds, the entire section was shouting in perfect unison.
His name echoed throughout the gymnasium like the pounding of an enormous drum.
Sakuragi stood on the court, momentarily dazed.
Hundreds of people…
Calling his name at the same time.
It felt completely different from how he had imagined it.
He had dreamed about this countless times.
Beautiful girls surrounding him.
Everyone shouting his name.
While he stood proudly in the middle with his hands on his hips and his chin raised high.
But reality…
Reality carried weight.
The cheers crashed into his chest like waves.
His vision blurred slightly.
He was smiling from ear to ear.
Yet his eyes had begun to redden.
He blinked hard, pretending sweat had gotten into them.
The Wakou players gathered together, laughing, hugging, and celebrating.
Oda walked over and slapped Sakuragi’s hand in a crisp high-five.
Akiyama rushed up from behind and threw an arm around Sakuragi’s neck, nearly dragging him off balance.
The substitutes sprinted onto the court, cheering wildly.
Standing in the middle of the celebration, Sakuragi suddenly remembered…
Just two months ago…
He hadn’t even known the rules of basketball.
He couldn’t stop committing traveling violations.
Now he stood here, drenched in sweat, surrounded by thunderous applause.
So…
This is what victory feels like.
It wasn’t the satisfaction of defeating someone.
It was the fulfillment of winning together.
His chest felt full.
So full that it seemed something might burst out at any moment.
In the stands, Yanai Yuri stood up and joined the applause.
Around her, countless spectators had also risen to their feet.
The Wakou students were cheering at the top of their lungs.
Even students from other schools applauded the spectacular performance.
Kato Reina remained seated, staring up at Yanai.
Unable to hold back any longer, she tugged gently on the hem of Yanai’s skirt.
Yanai looked down.
Kato wore an indescribably conflicted expression.
Her brows were knitted together, the corners of her lips drooped, and her eyes clearly asked one question.
Are you serious?
“You’re from Koyo Junior High.” Kato looked utterly speechless.
“Koyo Junior High.” “Our school.” “And you’re cheering for the other team?” Yanai blinked.
She looked back toward the court at the red-haired boy surrounded by his teammates.
Then she smiled softly at Kato.
“I’m just…” She paused for a moment before finishing, “…appreciating a wonderful game.” Kato rolled her eyes.
Appreciating the game.
Sure.
Whatever helps you sleep at night.
Leaning back in her seat, she narrowed her eyes as she watched the red-haired boy on the court.
No wonder Yanai treated him differently.
He really did have the ability to back it up.
On the court, Sakuragi Hanamichi was still surrounded by his teammates.
His gaze pierced through the crowd, crossed half the court, and found Yanai in the stands.
The grin on his face widened even further.
His smile bloomed like a chrysanthemum.
He raised his arm and waved enthusiastically toward her.
Yanai smiled.
Then she raised her hand and waved back.
Nearby, Takamiya elbowed Ohkusu.
“Look.
Look over there.” Ohkusu followed his gaze.
“It’s over…” “This time, Sakuragi is completely, hopelessly finished.” Yohei leaned back in his chair, quietly watching Sakuragi wave.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he slowly shook his head.
This guy…
He really is a basketball genius.
Then his eyes drifted toward the tall, beautiful girl.
A memory surfaced.
He had seen her before.
If he remembered correctly…
She was the young lady of the prestigious Yanai family.