JSWGAS Chapter 62

“Coach Kiyota.”

“Akashi? What is it?”

“It’s like this—I have a suggestion regarding the upcoming finals.”

–

Director Shirokane’s physical condition hasn’t been great lately. He joked that he’s purely paying back the debt from his youth when he didn’t take care of his body. This naturally led to the topic of the finals in two days.

The adult, whose hair was already showing signs of gray, pushed the record book on the table towards the teenager opposite him, signaling him to look at the summarized data. Kokonoe Taka lowered his head and flipped through a few pages. The printed words recorded his training volume, shooting percentage, win rate in 1v1s within the team, and scoring rate in training matches and official games over this period.

His training volume and shooting percentage had already reached saturation, and considering his body’s capacity, there hadn’t been any major changes. What was more obvious was his consistently high win rate and scoring rate. If you were to look at it with a line graph, you would find that the overall trend was constantly upward, with almost no decline.

After confirming that Kokonoe Taka had finished reading the record, Director Shirokane pointed to the most recent set of data, “Is your condition… too good?”

The data he pointed out was his final scoring rate in the semi-finals that had just ended yesterday morning—this set of data was even twice as high as before. You should know that Kokonoe Taka’s original scoring rate was already the highest in the team.

Although a large part of the reason was the constant ball possession he had in the second half of the game, one could even see the tip of the iceberg of the former’s cold demeanor from the team’s playmaker frequently using him as an offensive route. But—

“Your ‘warm-up time’ is getting shorter and shorter.”

Director Shirokane stated bluntly.

Kokonoe Taka wasn’t a player who could get into the zone right away. His friends had often joked that he was like ‘a dynamite keg with a very long fuse’. Although the analogy was rough, it was quite apt: the fuse was the time he needed to warm up during a game. Once the fuse was burned out, the dynamite would explode!

This style was still immature when he used to play tennis. He was used to taking some time to judge his opponent’s style, habits, and level. After he started playing basketball, he added the step of observing his teammates’ condition. To a large extent, his ability to create excellent plays with most of the team was also due to this.

But recently, his warm-up time had decreased rapidly. The 20 minutes of a half-court game wasn’t too long or too short. Last year, it took him five to ten minutes to get into the zone, but now it only took him a short three or four plays.

And the saying ‘the bystander sees more than the player’ wasn’t without reason. At least Kokonoe Taka suddenly realized this after being reminded by Director Shirokane. He sat upright across the table, his back straight, and said hesitantly, “Now that you mention it, it seems like that’s the case.”

“Jakumi also mentioned it to me…” He paused, and said his thoughts uncertainly, “But I just feel like playing ball is smoother than usual. I can see more clearly on the court, the opponents’ movements are slower, and—”

I will definitely score.

Without even thinking, this thought naturally surfaced at the forefront of all his thoughts, overriding all the noise, as if his subconscious had brazenly thrown the answer right in front of him. Kokonoe Taka was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone was already certain.

“I will definitely score.”

He looked up at the director and said.

Once this was clarified, the rest was easy to solve.

“I’m not sure if this state is good or bad,” Director Shirokane carefully phrased his words, “Among the students I’ve coached before, there have been cases where they suddenly got into very good condition, but then fell sharply after exerting too much force. But you seem to have stabilized at a balance point and are still within a controllable range. Overall, your cooperation with Aomine, Akashi, and the others in these two games has been good—how is your physical condition?”

“No problem.”

“You’ve always been reassuring in this regard.” Director Shirokane smiled, and quickly became serious, “Our opponent in the finals in two days is a strong school from Hokkaido, Jobokita High School. Their momentum this year is very strong, and we will fight with all our strength.”

He rubbed his brow wearily, “Coach Kiyota will explain the specific tactical arrangements in detail during the meeting. I will also tell him to pay attention to your condition during the game—”

Kokonoe Taka asked worriedly, “…Director, is your body okay?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a big problem.”

……

…………

“Jobokita High School used to be a veteran powerhouse in Hokkaido, and their strength is undoubtedly even better than the opponent we faced last year.” Coach Kiyota tapped the whiteboard, “Our final score in the semi-finals was 158:84, while Jobokita High School’s score was 137:72. Their starting players are basically all third-year students. The #5 power forward is 189cm tall, the #6 center is 191cm tall, and the other players are basically over 180cm tall.”

“191cm… isn’t that taller than Murasakibara?”

Murasakibara glared at Aomine, who asked this question, and snorted unhappily.

Hachibongi raised his hand, “But we don’t seem to have heard of this school before?”

“Because they collectively withdrew from the competition last year after their main player was injured.” Coach Kiyota explained, “They won the Hokkaido qualifier but withdrew from the competition—later, another school in Hokkaido took their place. Because the impact was bad, this matter was also suppressed.”

“Injured?”

“Their captain, Omori Sho, seems to have rested for half a year due to a left wrist sprain last year, missing the league.” Coach Kiyota looked around, “I hope we don’t have any pre-game injuries in our team—Omori plays point guard, but he can also serve as a small forward, and his scoring rate is very high.”

He pulled up a video, which was a recent game of Jobokita High School: “Their playing style is very head-on, the rhythm is very fast, and the way they handle the ball is very risky. Scoring is concentrated on the #9 shooting guard, the #5 power forward, and the #4 Omori Sho. The teams that have played against them before have all been pulled into their rhythm, losing offensive opportunities.”

“Then let Haizaki go up, let him mess with the other side’s mentality first.” Aomine Daiki spread his hands and suggested, smacking his lips, “Isn’t this guy’s recent rhythm conversion practicing very well? He’s also learned how to induce fouls.”

“Daiki, are you jealous of me?” Haizaki’s body was almost melting into the chair. Hearing this, he stretched out his leg to kick him in dissatisfaction. “You should worry about yourself first.”

“But didn’t you get Hachibongi-senpai four fouls in the last practice game?” Aomine Daiki didn’t want to be outdone. “You’re good at disgusting people.”

Hachibongi said coolly, “Aomine, Haizaki’s trick can still be called a tactic. What about you, committing a charging foul in the preliminary round and being penalized three times in a row?”

Midorima Shintaro went to the side in disgust: “Reckless.”

Murasakibara Atsushi chewed on a lollipop: “A stupid idiot.”

Aomine: “…Can’t you guys have some team spirit!”

Kuroko Tetsuya: “Don’t mind it, Aomine-kun.”

Aomine was not comforted at all, but was startled by the sudden voice from the side and jumped up. “Eek!! When did you get here!!”

Kuroko: “…I’ve always been here.” Haizaki’s laughter was the most unbridled. In the end, even the coach couldn’t help but smile. A lively atmosphere filled the air.

The final day was a rare sunny day. Early in the morning, there were staff members rushing around to set up the venue. The camera positions were aimed at the central court, and the host was quietly familiarizing himself with the script. From noon, the audience slowly filled the stands without any gaps.

Teiko Middle School still occupied the undeniable focus of attention. As soon as they appeared in front of the gym, they were blocked by reporters who had been waiting for a long time. Nijimura Shuzo was not good at dealing with eloquent and beautiful older sisters. His path was blocked by microphones, and he was sweating profusely, wanting to seek help. As soon as he turned his head, he found that he had been ruthlessly abandoned by his teammates—Kokonoe Taka and Hachibongi Jakumi were talking in low voices, striding away without looking back.

Nijimura Shuzo: “I…”

He really wanted to ask why you guys didn’t block Kujou, he’s our ace player and star of tomorrow!

With a painful expression, he began to answer the reporters’ questions.

Haizaki Shogo laughed loudly as he passed by. Midorima Shintaro gave him a helpless look. Murasakibara Atsushi chewed on his Umaibo and wandered off without even looking. Aomine Daiki stared straight at the beautiful older sister without stopping—in the end, it was Akashi Seijuro who saved him.

“Akashi.”

“Yes?”

“I finally understand why so many girls call you ‘Akashi-sama’.”

“…Please don’t tease me.”

This year’s league championship will be born between Teiko Middle School and Jobokita High School. The former is a victorious powerhouse, the champion of last year’s All-Middle School Games and League. The latter is extremely popular in the northern region, and is said to be the strongest generation of players in history.

The two sides began to look at each other while waiting in the player area. The atmosphere was so tense that the audience couldn’t help but lower their voices. Nijimura Shuzo squinted his eyes and estimated the average height of the opposing team in his heart. He suddenly met the gaze of the opposing team’s captain. After a fake smile to each other, he suddenly turned his head, his smile collapsing.

“That guy is a difficult type to deal with. They’ve been paying attention to you.” He said to Kokonoe Taka, “Consider it my intuition—I feel like they might use you as a starting point.”

Kokonoe Taka was bending over to tie his shoelaces, and seemed a little absent-minded. Hearing Nijimura’s words, he tied a beautiful bow on his shoes, “It’s not very useful to limit me alone,” he looked at his teammates, “After all, we are a team.”

Coach Kiyota’s tactical arrangement undoubtedly placed Kokonoe Taka at the center of the offense. His considerations for designing it this way were clear: an excellent player in excellent condition does not need to be restricted, allowing him to give full play to his abilities; but in addition to him, the coach also arranged the equally powerful Aomine Daiki as another offensive point; Murasakibara as the center of defense, Midorima Shintaro supporting from the outside—and Akashi Seijuro conducting real-time command on the court.

It’s not that he deliberately limited the other people’s playing time. It’s just that after careful consideration, he believed that Akashi’s style could gain an advantage one step ahead of the opponent, so he temporarily held back the other players as trump cards.

Teiko’s pre-game mobilization has always been simple, and this time it was the same as always. The team members formed a circle, palms pressed against the backs of hands, and the temperature was transmitted between the overlapping skin. Without much words, the same sentence was revealed in each other’s eyes.

The referee’s sharp whistle was clear and crisp. The cheering audience on the sidelines quieted down, staring at the two teams in the center of the court.

—The game begins!

The first ball possession was obtained by Jobokita’s #6.

Murasakibara clicked his tongue unhappily after failing to compete for the ball, and quickly returned to defense—although he was usually lazy and depended on snacks to get through training, the #6’s contemptuous gaze when he jumped for the ball suddenly made him angry.

Aomine blocked in front of the #5, trying to intercept the ball. He did delay it for a moment, and the #5 was blocked outside the paint, eventually having to send the ball behind him, letting the #4 handle the ball possession.

But the ball didn’t reach the #4’s hands as he wished! Akashi nimbly flashed out from beside the #4. He happened to block the position of the latter’s dominant hand. If he wanted to grab the ball, the #4 would have to use his left hand to hook the ball—but the #4 had an old injury in his left wrist, which caused his movement to stutter for a moment. In that one second opportunity, Akashi decisively stole the ball!

The ball hardly stayed in his hands for too long. His right hand blocked the #4’s line of sight downwards, while his left hand pushed the basketball outward with a slightly heavier force!

“Kujou-senpai!” Akashi shouted.

The commentator was almost still analyzing the confrontation between Akashi and Jobokita’s #4, and almost bit his tongue in the next second, “Kujou received Akashi’s pass! He shook off Jobokita’s marking, almost crossing half the court! And Jobokita’s return defense was a step slower—”

But if you insist on saying it was slow, it wasn’t actually that slow. The #6 center had long arms and legs, and blocked Kujou Taka’s path in a few steps with a fierce aura. And the #5 power forward closest to him was also closing in behind him. Facing enemies on both sides, as soon as he moved, it seemed that the two players from Jobokita would bite over.

But Kujou Taka was not disturbed by the extremely oppressive marking of the two at all. He lowered his center of gravity, dribbled the ball with his right hand, and relaxed his left hand downwards. The center in front of him immediately felt his eyelids twitch—the player with number 12 disappeared. The center almost saw the face of the equally stunned power forward in the blink of an eye.

So fast!

“A beautiful crossover!” the commentator shouted, “The explosiveness just now was really amazing! He almost made the two Jobokita defenders spin around in circles!”

When he was about to make a three-step layup, the #7 small forward, who finally caught up to the basket, jumped up forcefully. He jumped high, but his falling speed was a few seconds faster than Kujou Taka—the two jumped almost at the same time, but the latter stayed in mid-air during those two or three seconds. Just like birds converging their wings and swooping down, he lightly tossed the basketball into the basket when the arm in front of him could not block the basket.

Landing, the whole stadium cheered.

“This guy is in good condition.”

Another person noticed this.

Shiraiwa stood at the back of the stands, and the sound fell into Maki’s ears through all kinds of shouts, screams, and the rustling of cheering flowers in his hands. He turned his head, maintaining the posture of putting his hands to his mouth to cheer, “Huh?”

Shiraiwa glanced at him in disgust.

The two of them were about to graduate from Teiko in a few months. Maki was thinking about the basketball club and insisted on watching the finals. Shiraiwa just happened to be passing by and was caught, so he unwillingly appeared at the back of the audience seats with Maki.

But now it seemed that, although he kept complaining about the trouble, he was watching seriously. Jobokita High School’s level was indeed outstanding. After conceding the first ball, they chased after them fiercely, attacking with murderous intent. Murasakibara was blocked by the #6 firmly, and was even pitted for a foul when fighting for the rebound.

The offensive and defensive swapped. Jobokita’s #7 marked more cautiously, and the #9 shooting guard also secretly paid attention to Kujou Taka’s movements. But this obvious distraction gave Akashi an opportunity—he made a feint to deceive the opponent, and actually passed the ball to Midorima, who was perfectly positioned. The latter immediately made a smooth three-point shot into the basket after receiving the ball.

The staff member carrying the camera immediately gave Midorima a close-up.

Several more balls passed, and the score difference between the two sides chased each other, not giving way, but Jobokita High School was the first to call a timeout—Kujou Taka once again passed two people in a row and successfully dunked, this time even the #6 center, who had been prepared for a long time, did not stop him.

Shiraiwa watched Kujou take the towel handed over by Hachibongi and wipe his sweat. The two seemed to exchange a few words, and raised the end of his eyebrow thoughtfully, “Hachibongi didn’t play?”

Maki shouted his whole face red when Teiko Middle School scored just now. At this time, he grabbed the railing and replied, “He seems to be going to play later. It might be rotating with Nijimura.”

Shiraiwa raised his chin: “That red-haired one, I remember his name is Akashi?”

“Yes, he’s also the vice president of the student council.” Maki recalled, “Um… I was caught by him skipping class, but he didn’t make trouble for me.”

“Hmm.” Shiraiwa nodded casually. Maki knew that the other party had thought of something again when he saw this. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That Akashi, the style he chooses is very strange.” Shiraiwa explained to the idiot in a reserved way, “The balls he passes to other people—that black-skinned one, the glasses guy, and that kid with an unhappy face are all relatively stable, and the angles look pretty perfect. He also chooses the timing of his own shots very well.”

The timeout time passed quickly. At this time, Akashi held the ball again on the court.

“But only the ball passed to Kujou is a very fast ball.” Shiraiwa looked down at the court, and confirmed once again, “Moreover, Jobokita’s center’s block rate is not low. Those few balls just now definitely made them even more vigilant about Kujou.”

—Another double-team.

The route of Akashi’s pass was indeed very perfect, almost rubbing against the #7 who was facing Kujou Taka. But this also created a situation where he was surrounded by two people.

Maki stared at it seriously for a long time, and said uncertainly, “But Kujou, he scored all the goals, right?”

“It’s true that he scored.” Shiraiwa smiled coldly and stopped talking.

Kuroko Tetsuya watched the second-year senior who scored again on the court with rapt attention, and cheered softly in his heart with a clenched fist. But when he turned his head, he noticed that another senior sitting next to him was frowning and looking serious.

He thought about it and asked, “Hachibongi-senpai? Is there a problem?”

“…The rhythm is wrong.”

“What?”

Kuroko Tetsuya didn’t hear the sentence clearly, and Hachibongi Jakumi didn’t have any intention of explaining it further.

The rhythm of the game is actually a relatively broad statement. If you look at the current situation, not losing points frequently can explain that the overall rhythm is reasonable; but Hachibongi Jakumi is more concerned about Kujou Taka’s rhythm—he has to face the harassment of multiple defenders most of the time when he receives a pass. If it were someone else, they would have made a mistake under so much pressure.

He turned his head and glanced at Coach Kiyota quickly, the latter didn’t seem to care about this.

—But that’s only because that person is Kujou, that’s why he didn’t make a mistake.

He completed the sentence in his heart and exhaled a turbid breath lightly.

Kujou’s condition is very good, and he has a slight advantage against the fast-paced Jobokita High School. But this is like continuing to add fuel to his already excited state, letting him continue to go up, up, up—

Then, completely rule the court!