"We're seriously gonna lose to that new team?" Renji Arimura's voice trembled—not from fear, but frustration.
The Tennoji High bench sat in tense silence. Sweat soaked their jerseys, not just from the game, but from the creeping anxiety in their captain's voice.
"Calm down," their coach said—Reiko Shinohara, a woman in her forties with sharp eyes and a steel-like presence. "You're letting them get in your head. Have you forgotten who you are?"
Everyone turned to her as she stepped forward, folding her arms.
"This isn't the first time we've been in this kind of situation. You know what to do. Keep moving, keep shooting. They can run all they want—but if you're true to your rhythm, they'll never keep up."
Her voice was calm, but heavy like thunder.
"…Yes, Coach," Renji exhaled and nodded. "Let's go, team."
The second half began.
Tennoji returned to the court with renewed fire in their eyes.
Meanwhile, on our bench, the rotation was set.
"Kaito, you'll sub in for Rei," Coach Tsugawa announced. "Dirga, shift to shooting guard. You're our scorer now—Kaito will run the pace."
"Got it," we both responded.
With Rei resting after carrying our offense in the first half, it was now my turn to take the torch. The floor belonged to us.
Kaito brought the ball up to start the third quarter.
He dribbled with calculated rhythm, reading the defense. Our offense kicked into motion immediately.
He passed to Aizawa on the wing—then a quick dish inside.
Rikuya caught it, pivoted, spun—hook shot over the center.
Swish.
34–33.
The Titan in the paint was back.
Rikuya let out a low roar, a fire gleaming in his eyes. His presence alone seemed to shake the court.
But Tennoji didn't back down. No—this was just the beginning of their storm.
34–37.
36–37.
36–39.
Their response came in rapid fire. Like a barrage of arrows, Tennoji rained down threes and off-ball cuts, always finding the open man.
I tried to keep pace.
38–39.
38–42.
40–42.
Our scores came through paint attacks, fast breaks, and the occasional floater—but every Tennoji possession felt like a bomb waiting to go off.
The scoreboard kept ticking.
40–45.
Their captain, Renji Arimura, was terrifyingly efficient. He didn't waste energy. Every movement was intentional, every shot off a screen or a perfectly-timed handoff.
We were holding our own—but the pace… it was brutal. Even I felt my legs getting heavier.
Kaito, after six straight minutes, was breathing hard. His movements started slowing, his passes slightly delayed.
Coach looked at him—then at the bench.
"Rei, Hiroki—go in. Kaito, Taiga, rest up."
Tennoji made subs too—rotating out their shooters for fresh legs.
We needed to strike now.
With Rei back on the floor, our shooting threat returned.
We picked up the pace.
45–48.
51–50.
Now it was our turn to run wild.
Rei hit back-to-back threes from the corner, Aizawa drove in for a tough layup, and I hit a pull-up jumper to cap off a 9–2 run.
Tennoji staggered.
But even as we scored, they didn't break.
They shot. We shot back.
58–59.
61–61.
65–64.
Every second, the gym grew louder—even without a packed crowd, the energy was electric.
Both teams were on fire.
We were burning our stamina just to keep up.
Then came the moment.
Aizawa with a steal.
He intercepted a lazy pass near half-court and dashed forward. I sprinted alongside him, ready.
He tossed the ball behind him—no-look.
I caught it mid-stride, then immediately kicked it out to the corner.
Rei was wide open.
Bang. Three.
68–65.
We had the lead.
And we weren't done yet.
Our tempo surged.
72–70.
75–75.
Tennoji tied it with another three from Akihiko Nanase—damn, that guy had a quick release too.
But right after, I drove into the paint, collapsed the defense, and kicked it back out.
Rei again.
78–75.
And from there… we didn't let up.
Each bucket pushed the gap.
Our transition plays clicked. Hiroki even hit a pull-up jumper off a pick-and-roll. Everyone stepped up.
By the end of the third quarter…
88–80.
A high-octane score for a high school game in Japan.
Coach Tsugawa gathered us on the bench.
"This is it," he said. "Final quarter. Eight-point lead. They're gonna come at us like devils—so bite back."
"Yes, Coach!" we roared.
I sat, breathing hard, wiping sweat from my eyes.
[Echo Reminder: Flow Skill Ready. Activate with 5 minutes remaining.]
[Understood.]
I set a mental timer.
Five minutes left… that's when I would unleash it.
My Flow Skill. My ace in the hole.
We returned to the court with our starting five. On the other side, Tennoji did the same.
Everyone was back.