Slam Dunk: Sakuragi learned from Kawamura Eiki's experience

On the court, Shohoku's offense was repeatedly thwarted, as if they were stuck in a quagmire, and the more they struggled, the deeper they sank.

In this latest offensive possession, Rukawa Kaede positioned himself at a 45-degree angle on the right side of the three-point line, instead of running back and forth looking for an opening to cut in as he had done before.

Mitsuru Nagano stood near the free-throw line, his defensive zone being inside the three-point line, which was the rule of Shohoku's zone defense.

Everyone should stay within their own little territory and not go too far. But Rukawa's position was too awkward, right at the edge of his defensive zone, not too close, not too far, like a fishbone stuck in his throat.

If he moves out, a gap appears in the zone defense, requiring teammates to cover and the entire formation to rotate again. If he doesn't move out, number 11 is wide open beyond the three-point line.

Nagano Mitsuru gritted his teeth and ultimately didn't follow; rules are rules. And so, Rukawa Kaede's empty seat appeared.

Ryota Miyagi passed the ball over, a quick, straight pass that landed smoothly in Rukawa's hands.

Rukawa Kaede received the ball, bent his knees slightly, jumped, and flicked his wrist, sending the ball precisely into the basket.

In the stands, Coach Taoka's eyes suddenly lit up: "Beautiful. Rukawa has found the way."

"Even if the shot misses, Sakuragi and Akagi in the paint can grab the rebound. This is the optimal choice; if it goes in, it's a three-pointer; if it misses, there's still the rebound to cover for the rebound."

On the sidelines, Coach Anzai's glasses reflected the light. It seemed he wouldn't need to call a timeout anymore.

On the other side of the stands, Coach Takato's gaze fell on Rukawa Kaede, and his eyes lit up. He subconsciously turned his head and glanced at Kiyota Nobunaga sitting behind him.

Kiyota Masashi watched the game intently.

Takato turned his gaze back to the court. He silently made a comparison in his mind: Kiyota Nobunaga was very talented, and his jumping ability, speed, and explosiveness were no worse than Rukawa Kaede's, but Rukawa Kaede had one more thing: a stable long-range shooting ability.

In the face of regional joint defense, the ability to launch long-range attacks can be the difference between heaven and earth.

Kiyota saw the coach turn to look at Rukawa, then back at him. He recognized that look all too well; it wasn't a look of praise, but rather a look that said, "Look at him." His heart skipped a beat.

As Rukawa Kaede positioned himself beyond the three-point line, cracks began to appear in Shohoku's zone defense. With Rukawa Kaede on the outside, Shohoku's defense had to expand outwards.

In the next round, Miyagi passed the ball to Rukawa on the side again. After Rukawa received the ball, Hasegawa and Nagano quickly double-teamed him and then passed it to Mitsui, who was left unmarked in the corner.

Mitsui received the ball, faced the onrushing Takano, jumped, and shot. The ball spun around the rim and bounced out.

Sakuragi leaped up again amidst a group of tall men, tapped the ball in the air with his right hand, changed its direction, bounced towards the rim, hit it twice, and rolled in.

Hanagata stumbled when he landed, his glasses almost slipping off his nose. He reached out to steady them, but his eyes remained fixed on Sakuragi.

This guy has already grabbed four offensive rebounds over them.

The first half was ticking away. Shohoku relied on Fujima and Hanagata's pick-and-roll offense to wage a hard-fought battle in positional play.

Fujima and Hanagata, one inside and one outside, formed a pincer movement on offense, their pick-and-roll combination like two nails driven into Shohoku's defense, impossible to remove.

Miyagi stood near the free-throw line, hands on his knees, panting heavily; he was starting to break down.

He had given it his all, his legs were about to give out, his arms were about to give out, but he just couldn't stop Hua Xing's short, straight mid-range jumper. For the first time, he felt the helplessness of being outmatched by height.

The game reached a stalemate.

On the Shohoku side, Rukawa spread the floor on the perimeter, Akagi and Sakuragi grabbed rebounds inside, Mitsui moved around to create opportunities, and Miyagi orchestrated the offense. They scored by relying on their outside shooting and rebounding advantage.

On the Shohoku side, Fujima and Hanagata's 15-pick-and-roll combination was still unstoppable, and the score went back and forth, but the point difference was stuck at around 20 points. Shohoku tried their best but couldn't catch up.

As the first half was about to end, Mitsui Hisashi once again made an off-the-ball run, shaking off Hasegawa Kazushi.

He took a roundabout route, starting from the right baseline, sliding along the baseline to the basket, then suddenly turning back, weaving between Akagi and Hanagata. Hasegawa was caught off guard by Akagi's screen and was a fraction of a second too slow.

Mitsui received Miyagi's pass at a 45-degree angle on the left, jumped, and shot.

The ball traced a high arc, spinning as it rose and fell under the arena lights. "Whoosh."

The numbers on the scoreboard jumped.

The whistle blew, and the first half ended.

Xiangyang continues to lead by 18 points.

In the stands, the audience's chatter buzzed like a swarm of bees.

"Is this the semi-finals? Both sides are so strong."

"That number 10 from Shohoku is amazing at rebounding; he gets most of the rebounds."

"Shohoku's offense is too unstoppable. They can't defend against it. The combination of Fujima and Hanagata is simply unstoppable."

"Rukawa Kaede's three-pointer was crucial; otherwise, the point difference would have been over thirty points long ago."

"Eighteen points. I wonder if Shohoku can catch up in the second half."

The players walked off the field, Akagi with a blank expression, striding towards the bench. Kogure handed him a towel, which he took and hastily wiped his face.

Mitsui unscrewed the cap and took a sip of water, which spilled from the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin and neck.

Miyagi plopped down on the bench, hands on her knees, panting heavily.

Rukawa Kaede walked back to the bench, sat down, and closed his eyes. His breathing was faster than usual, but his expression remained cold.

Sakuragi Hanamichi was the last to walk, his red hair covered in sweat. He had just sat down next to the bench when Yanai thoughtfully handed him a bottle of water and, while Sakuragi was drinking, took a towel to wipe his sweat.

Seeing Sakuragi having his sweat wiped away, Miyagi next to him was immediately filled with envy, looking at Ayako with pitiful eyes, wanting the same treatment, but Ayako completely ignored him.

During halftime, the atmosphere in Shohoku's locker room was somewhat somber.

The fluorescent light shone on everyone's faces, making their expressions exceptionally clear. Akagi had a blank face and didn't smile. Mitsui leaned against the wall, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes to rest.

Several first-year students huddled at the very edge of the bench, barely daring to breathe.

Trailing by 18 points at halftime felt like a heavy stone pressing down on everyone's chest.

Akagi placed his hands on his knees. Although he had known that Shoyo was very strong, the pressure of actually facing them almost suffocated him.

Mitsui was harassed by Hasegawa for twenty minutes in the first half. Every move he made—running, receiving the ball, shooting, and returning to defense—was draining his already limited stamina.

Coach Anzai stood in the center of the locker room, still with that smiling expression, but his gaze behind his glasses had become much more serious.

He glanced at Mitsui, then at Rukawa. Both of their chests were still heaving, their breathing unusually clear in the quiet locker room.

"Let's adjust the lineup and tactics for the second half." Coach Anzai looked at Ryota Miyagi. "Miyagi, rest first, Kogure will take over."

Ryota Miyagi's buttocks had barely bounced half an inch off the bench when his expression changed from tired to displeased. He opened his mouth, his voice rising a notch from its usual pitch: "Coach, I..."

Coach Anzai raised his hand and pressed it down lightly, causing Miyagi's words to get stuck in his throat.

"This is a tactical necessity."

Coach Anzai spoke slowly, as if explaining a very simple principle: "Mitsui's stamina isn't enough for the whole game, so we need to rotate him in the second half to control the stamina of the starting lineup."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "The strategy for the second half is for Rukawa, Mitsui, and Kogure to stretch out to the three-point line and shoot from the outside. Sakuragi and Akagi will focus on rebounding inside."

Kogure Kiminobu adjusted his glasses and looked at Coach Anzai: "Coach, Miyagi is resting, so who will handle the ball and play point guard?"

There was a moment of silence in the locker room. The question had hit the nail on the head: with starter Miyagi off the court and backup point guard Yasuda also absent, who would bring the ball across half-court? Who would orchestrate the offense?

All eyes were on Coach Anzai.

Coach Anzai shifted his gaze from Kogure to the end of the bench.

"Sakuragi".

Sakuragi Hanamichi's ears twitched when he heard his name called.

Coach Anzai looked at Sakuragi, his voice steady, as if he were giving instructions on something very important:

"In the second half, you'll be the core player. On offense, you'll handle the ball at point guard, attack the opponent's paint, draw double teams, and then pass the ball to your teammates on the perimeter."

On defense, you'll guard Fujima first. If he runs a pick-and-roll with Hanagata, switch to guard Hanagata. Also, be careful to grab rebounds. Got it? Whether we can beat Shohoku depends on you.

"Hmph... Don't worry, Dad."

When Coach Anzai gave him a task and said that he was the core player and the key to defeating Shohoku, Sakuragi couldn't help but chuckle.

With a confident and smug look on his face, he said, "Leave the second half to this genius. Watch me lead everyone to defeat Shohoku."

"Red-haired monkey, who needs you to lead them!"

"Exactly, you're still too green."

Seeing Sakuragi's smug look, Mitsui and the others were immediately annoyed.

Coach Anzai chuckled a few times, then said nothing more.

The atmosphere was equally heavy in the Xiangyang locker room on the other side.

Kenji Fujima sat on the bench, holding a data sheet in his hand, which was the first half statistics that the team manager had just handed him.

The numbers on the paper were clearly visible under the fluorescent light. Sakuragi Hanamichi's rebound count was so glaringly obvious it looked like it had been circled in red pen. His points, on the other hand, were only single digits.

Fujima frowned slightly, then raised his head, his gaze sweeping over Hanagata Toru, Takano Shoichi, and Nagano Mitsuru.

"Rebounding will be key in the second half."

Fujima's tone carried such weight that the first-year students didn't dare to breathe. "You've all seen Sakuragi's rebounding ability. We can't let him grab rebounds as easily as he did in the first half."

Hanagata, Takano, Nagano, the three of you protect the rebounds, fight for them with all your might, and position yourselves early, don't wait until he jumps before you make your move.

Hanagata adjusted his glasses and nodded. Takano and Nagano exchanged a glance and responded simultaneously.

"Strive to maintain our current advantage and don't let Shohoku catch up. Remember our goal... the championship."

"Shohoku! Victory is certain!"

The whistle blew to end halftime, and the players from both sides came out of the locker room and stepped back onto the field.

From the stands, a chorus of voices surged forth.

"Shohoku made a roster change? Number 7 went down and number 5 came up."

"That's Kogure Kiminobu, I heard he's the vice-captain."

"Miyagi's gone, so who's controlling the ball? Kogure? He's not that fast."

"Shohoku hasn't made any changes; they're still starting with the same five players."

In the stands of Hainan, Shinichi Maki frowned slightly. His gaze swept over the Shohoku lineup, confirming that he wasn't mistaken; Ryota Miyagi wasn't on the court, and Kiminobu Kogure was.

Kiyota Nobunaga tilted his head and stared at Shohoku's lineup for three seconds, then turned to look at Jin: "The point guard's off the court, so who's going to dribble? Rukawa?"

"Miyagi's gone? Then who's going to play point guard for Shohoku?" Hikoichi's voice, as he leaned against the video camera, was clearly filled with confusion.

Taoka immediately realized something upon seeing Shohoku's lineup: "Record carefully, the real show is about to begin. Shohoku is about to step up their game. Coach Anzai's strategy is very precise, specifically designed to counter Shoyo's zone defense. Watch closely, and you'll soon see who will play point guard."

On the court, the Shohoku players also noticed the substitution made by Shohoku.

Hanagata adjusted his glasses, his gaze falling on Kogure as he entered the game. "A shooter," Hanagata mentally categorized Kogure: not fast, not particularly sharp at breaking through defenses, but his shooting ability was decent.

But he didn't understand who would control the ball after this person came up.

The referee blew his whistle, and the second half of the game began.

Shohoku had possession of the ball. Fujima dribbled the ball past half-court and found that Sakuragi was guarding him. He decisively passed the ball to Hanagata in the paint. Hanagata received the ball, backed down, and turned to shoot. Akagi's block went slightly wide, and the ball went in.

Kogure Kiminobu served from outside the baseline, and the ball landed steadily in Sakuragi's hands.

The moment Sakuragi received the ball, all eyes in the arena turned to him.

Sakuragi dribbled steadily across half-court; the ball wasn't as agile in his hands as Miyagi's, but it was very steady.

Mitsui Hisashi stood outside the right three-point line, Rukawa Kaede stood outside the left three-point line, and Nagano stood a step away from him, not daring to get too close, nor too far away.

Kogure was on the right side of the arc, and Takano stood between him and the basket, his gaze constantly shifting between Sakuragi and Kogure.

Three players, three positions, all stretched out beyond the three-point line. Should we follow or not?

Takano glanced at Kogure beside him, then at Hanagata in the paint, his expression shifting from focused to hesitant. Nagano faced the same dilemma: Rukawa was standing beyond the three-point line; if he followed him out, the paint would be down a man. If he didn't, Rukawa would be open.

Fujima's gaze swept quickly around, and he gritted his teeth. In a flash, he made a decision: to follow them out.

"Follow them out!" Fujima's voice boomed across the court.

Takano, Nagano, and Hasegawa quickly followed, man-to-man marking. Shohoku's defensive formation changed from zone defense to one-on-one man-to-man marking, with each player positioned near the three-point line and facing a Shohoku player.

Only Toru Hanagata and Takenori Akagi remained in the paint.

Sakuragi dribbled the ball to the top of the arc, looked at Fujima standing cautiously in front of him, and immediately stuck his butt out and leaned his back against him.

He immediately adopted a back-to-the-basket style of play.