The ball soared into the air, and Taro leaped with everything he had. His timing was perfect, his jump strong, but it wasn't enough. Papa's ridiculous wingspan won the tip-off easily, swatting the ball toward his guard with effortless precision. Shinkyō wasted no time setting up their offense.
Papa jogged down to the paint, his pace unhurried, his expression one of casual disinterest. He planted himself firmly under the basket, his massive frame taking up space like an immovable wall. The ball zipped around the perimeter before finding its way back to him. Taro was guarding him closely, his stance solid and ready, but it was clear this was a new kind of challenge.
Papa barely acknowledged Taro's presence, his eyes half-lidded as if he were bored. Keeping the ball high above his head, he turned with a smooth, almost lazy motion, releasing a regular shot over Taro's outstretched arms. The ball swished cleanly through the net.
As he jogged back on defense, Papa glanced down at Taro with a smirk. "Is that all? You're going to need more height if you want to bother me."
Onita quickly inbounded the ball, Kobayashi taking control as he pushed up the court. The offense moved fluidly, the ball passing between players before finding Rukawa on the wing. Without hesitation, Rukawa pulled up for a clean jumper, the ball snapping through the net to tie the game.
Shinkyō responded immediately. Papa set a heavy screen at the top of the key, his wide frame sending Taro scrambling to adjust. The guard slipped through with ease, and the pass came in high to Papa, now wide open in the paint. He caught the ball effortlessly, keeping it high above his head. Taro scrambled to recover, but Papa barely reacted, lifting the ball with a calm, deliberate motion and sinking another easy shot.
As he jogged back, Papa let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Too small," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Taro to hear. "This is nothing but a waste of my time."
Taro found himself watching Papa with growing interest. The Senegalese center played with a simplicity that was somehow infuriatingly effective. Every time the ball reached him, he kept it high above his head, either taking a quick, efficient shot or passing effortlessly to an open teammate when the defense collapsed on him. There was no unnecessary movement, no ridiculous skill, just brutally efficient play.
On defense, Papa was equally imposing. Shinkyō set up in a 2-3 zone, with Papa planted firmly in the middle of the paint, arms outstretched like a human barricade. He barely moved, his sheer presence anchoring the defense and daring Onita to challenge him.
When Kobayashi drove to the hoop for a layup, Papa swatted it away with ease, his reach making the attempt look laughable. He let out a scoff as the ball bounced off. "Is this what passes for basketball here?" he muttered, shaking his head. Moments later, Shin tried to muscle his way inside for a close-range shot, but Papa's size forced him to adjust mid-air, resulting in a missed opportunity. He didn't need to chase anyone or contest outside shots; his dominance inside made the paint feel like an impenetrable fortress.
Taro, standing just a few feet away, watched Papa execute yet another high, unguardable shot over Shin. The ball arced cleanly through the hoop, and Taro frowned as he jogged back on offense. It wasn't the height difference, Papa was only four centimeters taller, but the way he used his size so effortlessly. Taro hadn't yet fully adjusted to his own growth, still relying on brute strength and post moves instead of truly understanding how to maximize his physical advantages.
As he settled into position on the next possession, Taro couldn't help but glance at Papa, his mind racing. The big man's confidence, his condescension, his absolute belief that size was everything—it irritated Taro, but it also taught him something. I could do that, Taro thought, his gaze lingering on Papa as they set up their offense. Why am I fighting smaller players when I don't have to? I have the height to dominate, just like him, but I'm wasting it trying to battle everyone. I should make them irrelevant instead, just like he does.
The realization began to take hold as the quarter continued. Taro wasn't just playing against Papa he was learning from him. And the lessons were already reshaping his approach to the game.
The game had barely begun, but Onita was already in trouble. The score sat at 4-10, with Shinkyō dominating the paint thanks to Papa's sheer size and reach. Every time he got the ball, Papa either scored or disrupted Onita's defense, and Coach Hurley looked ready to snap. He paced furiously on the sidelines, muttering to himself, his eyes darting toward the bench like he was seriously considering hurling it against the wall.
Taro raised his hand toward the referee, his voice cutting through the tension. "Timeout!" he called.
The whistle blew, and the players began jogging toward the bench. The crowd murmured in confusion, their attention drawn to Taro's decisive move.
"That's the first-year, right? Is that even allowed?" someone whispered from the stands, their tone a mix of disbelief and intrigue.
"I thought the captain was the only one who was allowed to call for timeouts," another voice added, leaning forward.
Hurley's glare immediately shifted to Taro, his expression sharp. "You want to waste a timeout to talk? We're already down six," he growled, his voice barely holding back his frustration.
Taro didn't flinch. "Coach, let me speak to the team," he said firmly, standing his ground.
Hurley narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. The audience murmured louder, their attention glued to the scene.
"Does he really think he can fix this?" someone listening in asked, incredulous.
Hurley's lips twitched, caught somewhere between a frown and a smirk. "Fine," he said finally, crossing his arms. "You've got one minute. Make it count."
Taro nodded, turning to face his teammates, who were slumped on the bench, catching their breath. His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable authority to it.
"Give me the ball," Taro said, his tone cutting through the noise. "I'll win this for us. I'll make sure each of you gets your moment to shine over this team, and we will beat them."
Kobayashi blinked, clearly caught off guard. "You're asking to take over playmaking? That's a lot to put on yourself, Taro."
Taro nodded, his confidence unwavering. "I've been watching them. Papa isn't going to leave the paint, and we've been playing into their hands. I'll force him to guard me outside or punish them when he doesn't. When he stays under the hoop, I'll shoot over the smaller guys. When he steps out, I'll move the ball to whoever is open. Trust me on this."
"Does he really think he can handle that?" someone from the stands listening in whispered, their disbelief mingled with intrigue.
As Taro spoke, Tokuchi leaned back slightly, his signature shit-eating grin spreading across his face. "Big words for a rookie," he said, clearly amused, his tone teasing but carrying an edge of respect. "This is gonna be fun to watch."
Rukawa, who had been resting against the bench, tilted his head slightly, his cold expression cracking just enough to show a flicker of interest. He didn't say anything, but the sharp look in his eyes made it clear he was paying attention.
Kobayashi hesitated for a moment before glancing at Hurley, who gave a small nod. Finally, the captain relented. "Alright. Let's try it."
Taro turned to Shin, pulling him closer. "I can't reach the height that he shoots at," Taro admitted, his tone measured. "But I'll make him uncomfortable. When he goes up to shoot, I need you ready to jump and block him. If I can't stop him directly, I'll set him up for you."
Shin's expression didn't change, but his voice was steady. "Understood."
Taro's gaze swept across the team. "We've got this. Just trust me."
Hurley clapped his hands sharply, breaking the moment. "Alright, enough talking. Let's see if you can back it up, kid."
The players broke the huddle and jogged back onto the court as the crowd buzzed with curiosity and anticipation. The audience, once filled with murmurs of doubt, now leaned forward, eager to see if the bold first-year could turn his words into action.
As the players lined up again, the tension in the gym was palpable. The crowd, still buzzing from Taro's bold declaration, was glued to every move. Shinkyō's bench seemed unfazed, Papa standing tall near the paint, his confidence as unwavering as ever.
The referee handed the ball to Onita for the inbound. Kobayashi looked to Taro, who nodded slightly, stepping forward to receive the pass. The first-year's calm demeanor belied the pressure mounting on him as he dribbled up the court.
Taro stopped just outside the free-throw line, Papa still camped under the basket, watching him like a predator waiting for its prey. A smaller defender moved up, arms wide to contest. But Taro didn't rush. He raised the ball high above his head, ignoring the flailing hands of his defender, and took a smooth jumper.
Swish. The ball snapped through the net. 6-10.
The crowd let out a collective gasp before breaking into murmurs. "Did he just shoot over the defender like it was nothing?"
"Why didn't Papa step out to guard him?"
The momentum seemed to shift slightly as Shinkyō brought the ball back up. Papa set a heavy screen at the top of the key, freeing up his guard for a quick drive. Taro stayed with the guard just enough to force a rushed pass back to Papa in the paint.
As Papa caught the ball and turned, Taro was already in front of him, planting himself firmly. Instead of trying to jump for the ball, Taro leaned his bulk into Papa, delivering a powerful bump to his torso. The contact wasn't illegal, but it was enough to disrupt Papa's usual rhythm.
Papa turned to shoot, but his movement was awkward, his usual height and smooth execution compromised. At that moment, Shin leaped from the weak side, perfectly timed, and swatted the ball out of bounds with authority.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Papa glanced toward the bench, visibly frustrated. Onita's players straightened, their energy surging. Hurley clapped his hands on the sideline, his voice cutting through the noise. "That's how you do it! Keep it up!"
Taro gave Shin a quick nod, his expression calm but focused. The tide was shifting, and they both knew it.
The crowd erupted into cheers. Hurley clapped his hands from the sideline, a rare grin spreading across his face. "That's it! Keep the pressure on!"
Taro began to build momentum, finding his rhythm against Shinkyō's 2-3 zone. While the defense made it difficult for him to dominate outright, Taro adapted, focusing on his role as a playmaker. With Papa anchoring the zone, Taro worked the gaps, hitting smooth mid-range jumpers when the defense sagged too far and delivering sharp passes when they collapsed on him. He operated like a conductor, orchestrating Onita's offense while assessing the weaknesses in Shinkyō's setup.
Every time the defense collapsed, Taro made them pay. On one play, he delivered a crisp pass to Rukawa, who sank a clean three-pointer from the corner. On another, he drew two defenders to the paint before flipping a no-look pass to Hachiman, who cut perfectly to the hoop for an easy layup. Though Taro's scoring was modest in the first quarter, his presence was unmistakable. He was the center of attention, the light that guided Onita's offense, forcing Shinkyō to react to his every move.
In the second quarter, Shinkyo made a crucial adjustment. Abandoning their earlier 2-3 zone, they switched to a man-to-man defense, forcing them to match up individually. This change meant Papa was now tasked with guarding Taro one-on-one, and the difference was immediate.
Taro wasted no time asserting his dominance. On one possession, he caught the ball near the free-throw line, turned sharply, and drove into the lane. Using his offhand, he manhandled Papa, keeping the larger defender at bay as he rose for a layup. The ball kissed the glass before dropping in and sending Papa to the ground as the crowd erupted.
On the next possession, Taro received the ball on the perimeter. He baited Papa with a jab step before pulling up for a long two-pointer. The ball arced high and swished cleanly through the net, leaving the defense scrambling to adjust. Each time Papa stepped out to contest, Taro either powered through him with strength and finesse or dished the ball to a teammate for an open look.
Taro's light shone brighter with every possession. His scoring became relentless, unstoppable, alternating between smooth jumpers and forceful drives to the hoop. On one play, he backed Papa down with calculated steps, spinning off his shoulder to sink a clean hook shot over the defender's outstretched arms. On another, he used his offhand to create separation, driving through the lane before finishing with a reverse layup that sent the crowd into a frenzy.
As Taro's scoring continued, he maintained his role as a playmaker, ensuring his teammates remained involved. He fired pinpoint passes to Rukawa, who continued to capitalize with clean jumpers, and to Hachiman, who finished another layup after a perfectly timed behind-the-back pass. Even Kobayashi found success, isolating his defender and scoring on a controlled floater after receiving a sharp dish from Taro.
Tokuichi, never one to miss an opportunity for theatrics, drew a foul at the top of the arc. After receiving a pass from Taro, he baited his defender into jumping before leaning into the contact. The referee's whistle blew, and Tokuichi grinned as he stepped to the free-throw line, sinking all three shots with ease. "Too easy," he muttered, loud enough for the defender to hear.
On defense, Taro and Shin maintained their dominance over Papa. Every time Papa received the ball, Taro leaned into him, disrupting his rhythm and forcing awkward, rushed shots. When Papa did manage to rise for a shot, Shin was there to help Taro contest, swatting the ball away or disrupting the attempt entirely.
Taro's relentless play came at a cost, though. The battle with Papa began to take its toll, the constant physicality wearing on his legs and shoulders. But Taro's intensive training showed its worth,his presence on the court was unwavering even if he was getting exhausted quickly.
By the time the second quarter ended, Taro's light had become blinding. Onita had built a commanding 44-16 lead. Papa's confidence had cracked under Taro's strength and skill, while the crowd roared with excitement at every highlight. Taro had not only established himself as the centerpiece of Onita's offense but as a leader capable of elevating his teammates and breaking down even the most formidable opponents.
The second half began with Onita making a noticeable adjustment. Taro remained on the bench to catch his breath, giving the team the chance to maintain their momentum without their dominant first-year on the court. Shinkyō, sensing an opportunity, immediately began to push the pace. Their captain and point guard, Yūsuke Tanimura, took control of the offense, barking instructions to his teammates with sharp authority.
"Let's go, we're not out of this yet!" Tanimura shouted, clapping his hands as he brought the ball up the court. His confidence was palpable, and his presence seemed to reinvigorate his team.
On one possession, Tanimura sent a laser-sharp pass to the corner, threading it between two Onita defenders. The shooter didn't hesitate, draining a clean three-pointer that sent a spark through Shinkyō's bench. "That's how we do it!" Tanimura called, pumping his fist as his teammates rallied behind him.
Moments later, Tanimura himself pulled up from deep. The ball arced beautifully through the air before snapping through the net. Shinkyō's bench erupted in cheers, feeding off their captain's unshakable energy. Tanimura turned toward the Onita side with a sly grin, his voice cutting through the noise. "We're just getting started!"
The shift in momentum was tangible. Shinkyō was on a run, their pace dictated entirely by Tanimura's passing and confident. The crowd began to murmur, sensing that the game was far from over. Tanimura's leadership had reignited Shinkyō's fire, and for the first time in a while, the pressure was back on Onita.
Without Taro's presence anchoring the paint, Onita's offense slowed, and their defense struggled to contain Papa. Shin, now playing at center, battled tirelessly, using his physicality to deny easy looks, but Papa's sheer size and reach began to take over. On one play, Papa grabbed an offensive rebound over two defenders and powered it back up for a strong putback, earning a roar from Shinkyō's bench.
As he jogged back on defense, Papa smirked lazily, his voice carrying across the court. "What a drag. Only he can challenge me. The rest of you are no match." He stretched his arms dramatically, feigning exhaustion. Shinkyō's spirit surged, and Onita momentarily looked rattled.
Despite Shinkyō's momentum, Rukawa and Kobayashi stepped up to steady the team. On one possession, Rukawa received the ball on the wing, his defender sticking close. Instead of settling for a jumper, he drove hard toward the baseline, his speed leaving the defender a step behind. As Papa shifted over to contest, Rukawa adjusted mid-air, spinning for a clean reverse layup off the glass. The crowd erupted as the ball dropped through the net, breaking Shinkyō's rhythm.
Moments later, Shinkyō's guard attempted to capitalize on a gap in Onita's defense, driving aggressively into the lane. But Shin was ready. Timing his jump perfectly, he soared above the guard's attempted layup and swatted the ball cleanly off the backboard. The gym echoed with cheers as the ball ricocheted into Kobayashi's hands, igniting a fast break. Kobayashi pushed the ball up the court and, with a calm, calculated move, finished a step-back jumper just inside the arc. The bench erupted as Onita regained their momentum, keeping Shinkyō at bay.
Though Shinkyō refused to back down, Onita's resilience showed, their confidence steady despite the absence of their dominant center. It was clear Taro's teammates were rising to the challenge, determined to keep the game in hand and winning without needing Taro.
As Onita got back momentum, Coach Hurley motioned for Taro to re-enter the game. The bench looked to him expectantly, but before he could step onto the court, Coach pulled him aside, his voice low but firm.
"You've done the heavy lifting already," Coach began, his gaze steady. "But this game isn't just about you. You've drawn their attention, locked their defense onto you. Now's the time to let the rest of the team take over. Make them comfortable. Use this game to turn them into threats. Draw the defense in, then let your teammates do the rest."
Taro nodded slowly, the weight of Coach's words settling over him. "I'll take all the attention," he said calmly. "They'll finish it."
Coach smirked. "Good. Go show them how it's done."
The gym buzzed with anticipation as Taro stepped back onto the court. The atmosphere shifted immediately, with Shinkyō's defense tightening, their focus locking entirely on him. Papa stepped out of the paint to challenge him one-on-one. Taro embraced the attention, moving with purpose, his every action drawing defenders closer like moths to a flame.
On his first possession, Taro dribbled at the free-throw line, eyes scanning the court as Papa and another defender began collapsing on him. With a quick pivot, he fired a pass to Rukawa in the corner. Rukawa caught it in rhythm and calmly drained a three-pointer, his form smooth and unshaken.
The next play, Taro baited the defense further. Faking a drive, he pulled three defenders into the lane before sending a perfectly timed no-look pass to Kobayashi. The captain had already beaten his defender and floated the ball cleanly into the hoop. The crowd erupted, their cheers growing louder with each play as Onita fed off Taro's energy.
With Taro orchestrating the offense, Onita quickly regained control. Shinkyō's defense, obsessed with stopping Taro or denying him the ball, began to crumble. Gaps opened everywhere, and Onita capitalized with precision. Rukawa continued to sink shots, Kobayashi worked efficiently in isolation, Hachiman cut through the lane for easy finishes, and Tokuchi kept frustrating the defense, drawing fouls with his crafty antics.
Every pass from Taro felt like a calculated strike. His ability to manipulate the defense created scoring opportunities for his teammates, who executed flawlessly. Onita's seamless teamwork turned the game into a showcase of their depth and chemistry. Shinkyō scrambled to adjust, but the tide was irreversible. Onita's offense flowed, their defense tightened, and every player contributed to maintaining their dominance.
With one minute remaining, Onita continued to control the game. Taro had the defense in complete disarray, their focus entirely on him. Papa, visibly frustrated and exhausted was determined to stop him. The crowd buzzed with excitement, the energy in the gym reaching a fever pitch as the game approached its conclusion.
Taro brought the ball up the court, his pace unhurried and deliberate. Shinkyō's defense moved in unison, their focus entirely on him as he crossed the free-throw line. Papa stepped forward, arms wide, his massive frame poised to stop any drive, while another defender slid into position, fully expecting Taro to pass. The crowd murmured in anticipation, their eyes glued to Taro, waiting for the inevitable assist to a teammate.
But Taro didn't pass.
Instead, he stopped just inside the paint and, without even leaving the ground, flicked an unbelievably lazy floater. The ball floated high into the air, so casual and effortless it looked like something out of a pickup game. It was a shot that even Rin could have blocked, but the defense was frozen, their eyes locked on Taro's hands, waiting for the pass that never came.
The ball sailed cleanly over Papa's head and dropped into the net with a soft swish.
For a moment, the gym fell completely silent, stunned by the sheer audacity of the move. Then the cheers erupted, the crowd roaring as Taro turned and jogged back on defense. A smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his expression practically daring the defenders to keep underestimating him. Behind him, Papa glared, furious, but Taro didn't look back. His focus was on finishing this game.
As Tanimura hurried up the court, his jaw clenched tightly, he muttered under his breath, "Let's see if you can keep grinning after this." Clearly rattled by Taro's display, he was determined to respond, his pride demanding a moment of redemption. Driving hard, he focused entirely on forcing his way to the basket, his frustration blinding him to Tokuchi, who had quietly planted himself directly in his path, waiting for the inevitable collision.
With perfect timing, Tanimura barreled straight into Tokuchi's chest. The gym froze for a moment before the referee's whistle pierced the air. "Charge!" the official shouted, signaling the turnover.
Tanimura pushed himself off the ground quickly, his face red with a mix of exertion and embarrassment. "You can't be serious!" he barked at the referee, gesturing in disbelief. "He was already falling before I even touched him!"
Tokuchi, ever the showman, popped up from the floor with a theatrical flourish, brushing off his jersey with exaggerated care. He grinned widely at Tanimura, the perfect picture of unbothered confidence. "Owww," he yelped in fake pain, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You need to learn how to control yourself better."
Tanimura glared at him, his fists clenching at his sides. "You're ridiculous," he snapped, his voice laced with frustration.
Tokuchi simply shrugged as he jogged back down the court, throwing one last jab over his shoulder. "Ridiculous enough to get the ball back. Thanks for that, by the way."
The crowd erupted in laughter and jeers, the momentum swinging even further in Onita's favor as Tanimura fumed quietly, his pride taking another hit.
The crowd roared in laughter and cheers, the momentum swinging even further in Onita's favor towards the end of the game.
Taro received the inbound pass, cradling the ball with one hand as he started up the court. His pace was deliberately slow, each step measured, his body language exuding an almost exaggerated cocky nonchalance. The crowd murmured in anticipation, still buzzing from his last shot. His smirk remained firmly in place, a visual taunt that seemed to hang in the air, daring Shinkyō's defense to try and stop him.
As Taro crossed half-court, his eyes scanned the court with the calm confidence of someone entirely in control. His movements were unhurried, his dribble casual, but his presence drew every defender's attention like a magnet. Papa stepped forward, his massive frame ready to challenge Taro directly, while two other defenders shifted closer, preparing to collapse on him.
The gym hummed with tension as every eye locked onto Taro, waiting to see what he would do next. His smug expression never wavered, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the defenders scrambling to contain him. Taro's slow advance felt deliberate, almost mocking, as if he already knew exactly how this play would unfold.
As he crossed the free-throw line, three defenders immediately converged on him, their focus absolute. Papa stood directly in front of him, arms wide, while two other players positioned themselves to cut off any potential drive or pass. The gym hummed with anticipation, the tension in the air so thick it was nearly tangible.
Taro dribbled the ball with a casual air, his expression calm, almost amused. His movements were slow and deliberate, every slight twitch of his shoulders drawing the defenders' attention like moths to a flame. In this moment, Taro was the light, a beacon that everyone focused on, unable to look away. The crowd leaned forward in anticipation, their excitement mounting with each passing second.
"He's going for another floater," someone whispered.
"He wants the buzzer-beater," another murmured.
Behind the scenes, however, there was the shadow. While Taro had commanded attention all game, Shin had worked quietly in the background. He had barely scored, dedicating himself to defense and rebounding, anchoring Onita's paint with his raw athleticism. But now, in this final moment, the shadow was ready.
Taro moved forward slightly, baiting the defenders into collapsing even tighter around him. Papa stepped up aggressively, his massive frame looming like a wall, completely blocking any clear view of the rim. His expression was thunderous, his frustration from the previous plays boiling over.
"You think you're so good, huh?" Papa growled, his voice low but sharp enough for Taro to catch. "Try that again. I dare you."
Taro didn't respond, at least not verbally. Instead, he glanced up briefly, his smirk evolving into a full, confident smile, one that seemed to say, I know exactly how this ends. The taunt in Taro's expression only made Papa's glare darken as he leaned in, determined to shut him down.
And then, in one fluid motion, Taro tapped the ball with his palm a fast but subtle, almost imperceptible motion. For an instant, it was as if the ball had vanished entirely, disappearing from sight. The defenders froze, their eyes darting wildly, trying to locate it. Yet, it was already gone, moving through the air like a ghost, unseen until it reappeared exactly where it was meant to be.
From the baseline, Shin soared into the air, his body twisting mid-flight, impossibly high above the court. The ball reappeared in his hands, perfectly placed by Taro's phantom pass, the blur of the tap sending it with an almost unnatural precision.
The gym erupted in gasps and cheers as Shin completed the play with a half-spin in the air, slamming down a reverse dunk that shook the rim and sent the crowd into a frenzy. The final buzzer sounded, but the roar of the crowd only grew louder, their excitement filling every corner of the gym.
Onita had sealed the victory in the most spectacular way possible, and the game would be one to remember for everyone who witnessed it.