The lingering scent of newly bought bento boxes still hung in the Hiroshima hotel room. Taoka Moichi placed the tactics board on the coffee table.
Uozumi Jun sat up straight, propping himself on his knees. Sendoh Akira leaned against the wall, twirling a marker pen in his hand. Fukuda Kiccho sat directly on the floor, his fingertips unconsciously tapping a rhythm on the wood. Gu Jin stood by the window, and Sakuragi Hanamichi… was scraping the last grain of rice from the bottom of his bento box into his mouth.
Everyone else was also in position.
“Ahem.” Taoka cleared his throat, tapping his fingertips twice on the tactics board. His gaze swept over the seated group, then deepened. “In three days, we play Sannoh. We’ve already watched their games; I don’t need to tell you—the title of ‘Japan’s strongest’ isn’t just talk. It won’t be easy to chew through this bone.”
He paused, tapping his knuckles on the edge of the tactics board, a hint of defiance entering his tone: “But ‘not easy’ doesn’t mean ‘impossible to chew through.’ They, Sannoh, are strong, but we, Ryonan, are stronger.” As Taoka Moichi said this, a trace of pride appeared in his eyes.
“In three days, we’ll let them know Ryonan’s strength! Remember, we didn’t come to Hiroshima just to make up the numbers; we came to win the championship.”
His fingertip first landed on the name “Sawakita Eiji” on the board, his thumb pressing heavily on it—the blur of Zawa Kita’s breakthroughs from Sannoh’s previous game still replayed in his mind.
But looking up at Gu Jin, Taoka’s tone held no hesitation; instead, it rose slightly: “Sawakita Eiji, Sannoh’s ace. You all saw the game that day; his overall ability is ridiculously strong.”
He paused, then suddenly raised his voice, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear clearly: “But we have Gu Jin.”
Gu Jin was looking down, writing something. He looked up at the sound. Taoka had already walked over to him and patted his shoulder: “You’re faster than him, and your shooting touch is steadier than his—I’ve told you before, Zawa Kita is strong, but you can get the better of him. You’ll guard him directly. Don’t be afraid to go head-to-head. Play freely; not only do you need to stop him, but you also need to let him know who Japan's number one high school player truly is.”
As soon as these words fell, Fukuda let out a cheer: “Right! Gu Jin is definitely better than him!” Uozumi also nodded in agreement, and even Sakuragi, who had been silent, leaned over: “Gu Jin, go! Take down that Zawa Kita!”
Gu Jin’s voice was steady: “Understood, Coach.”
Taoka then gave a satisfied “Hmm,” and as he turned to walk back to the tactics board, he specifically glanced at the others: Gu Jin is Ryonan’s confidence in defeating Sannoh.
Next, Taoka’s fingertip moved to another spot, “Masashi Kawata, Sannoh’s center. His skills are more comprehensive than last year. Uozumi, you need to think more when you’re matched up against him.”
Uozumi nodded heavily: “Yes!”
“And Kazunari Fukatsu, their point guard.” Taoka’s fingertip moved to another name on the tactics board, his brow slightly furrowed as he added, “That guy’s passing vision is ridiculously accurate, especially his through passes to Kawata and Zawa Kita; they’re so fast, people can’t react in time.”
He looked up at Sendoh, who was leaning against the wall, and tapped the tactics board with his marker pen: “Sendoh, you’re matched up against him. Don’t rush for steals; his ball-handling is very stable. First, cut off his passing lanes to the inside, especially to Kawata—if you stop his connections, Sannoh’s offense will be cut in half.”
Sendoh’s hand, which had been twirling the pen, stopped. His fingertips lightly tapped the pen barrel twice, and he responded with a smile: “No problem, Coach.”
Taoka then turned to Fukuda, a hint of urgency in his tone: “Fukuda, run more off the wing.
When Sendoh gets a steal, or when Gu Jin stops Zawa Kita and counterattacks, immediately join the fast break—Sannoh’s transition defense isn’t that fast; this is a gap we can exploit, don’t just stand there. On defense, keep an eye on Minoru Matsumoto.”
Fukuda suddenly straightened up, clenching his fists: “Okay! I’ll definitely do it!”
Taoka turned the tactics board around, his fingertip landing on the last name—“Masahiro Nobe.” He didn’t speak immediately, first staring at Sakuragi for a few seconds until the boy stopped his playful grin, then said in a deep voice: “Sakuragi.”
“Here!” Sakuragi immediately stood at attention.
“Masahiro Nobe of Sannoh is yours.” Taoka’s thumb paused on the four characters “Masahiro Nobe,” his tone more solemn than when he spoke to the others earlier. “That guy is much taller than you, a full 198 centimeters, and his post-up is incredibly stable, with super strong rebounding ability.”
Sakuragi listened with a frown, clenching his fists: “He can rebound better than me?”
“Don’t be unconvinced.” Taoka glanced at him, but then suddenly changed his tone, adding a bit of force to his voice, “Only by defeating him will you truly be the Rebound King.”
Sakuragi was stunned for a moment, then suddenly puffed out his chest, his eyes burning like fire: “Don’t worry, Coach! This genius will definitely beat that Masahiro Nobe! All the rebounds are mine!”
“Don’t just shout slogans.” Taoka straightened his face, but didn’t really scold him.
Taoka gave a few more detailed instructions on rebound protection, then finally closed the tactics board: “That’s the general idea. Alright, now let’s go to the rented gym and practice the tactics.”
Sakuragi suddenly spoke: “Coach, I have something to do later!”
Taoka glanced at him: “What are you doing?”
“I want to go to the sports store!” Sakuragi slapped the sole of his athletic shoe, the edges worn and frayed. “My shoes are too small again! They’re squeezing my toes!”
“Too small again?” Taoka frowned, his gaze falling on Sakuragi.
“You… did you grow taller again?” Taoka asked suspiciously.
Sakuragi was startled, then chuckled, scratching the back of his head: “I grew 1.2 centimeters before! But maybe the shoes feel small because I’ve been wearing them for a long time?”
“Let me see.” Taoka said, rummaging through his bag for a tape measure—he always liked to carry these “data-gathering” items. “Come here, we’ll know if we measure it.”
Sakuragi reluctantly shuffled over, standing straight with his back against the wall. Taoka pressed the top of the tape measure to his head, bent down to read the measurement at the base of the wall, muttering, “Stand straight!”
Gu Jin and Sendoh also came over to watch, and Fukuda even stared directly at the scale.
Taoka squinted and counted, then suddenly his eyes lit up: “Sakuragi, you really did grow taller again!”
“Ah? Grew taller again? How much?” Sakuragi asked eagerly.
Taoka wiped his face, pointing to the mark on the wall: “191… 191.3 centimeters!”
The room was silent for two seconds. Fukuda was the first to exclaim, “Wow! It’s only been a few days! He grew another 2.1 centimeters?!”
Gu Jin was also a bit surprised. He remembered that before the National Tournament, after the measurement, Sakuragi had compared his height with Uozumi for a long time, staring at the 189.2 mark. Now he had actually broken past 191.
He glanced at Sakuragi’s still-stunned face and suddenly remembered Sakuragi mentioning that the family’s meals had been much better recently—Sakuragi Xiaonan made Sakuragi breakfast with added eggs and beef every morning, and always urged him to drink milk at night.
It seemed that with proper nutrition, his development was faster than in the original manga.
Gu Jin smiled and patted Sakuragi’s shoulder, “If you keep growing, you might even be able to compare heights with Captain Uozumi.”
Sakuragi finally reacted, suddenly jumping up: “This genius has grown taller again! Hahahaha! 191.3! Old man monkey, how tall were you in your first year of high school?”
Uozumi snorted: “199 centimeters! You’re still far off!” But the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but turn up.
Taoka looked at the boisterous Sakuragi, and then at his shoes, which were indeed squeezed out of shape. He waved his hand: “Alright, alright, Ikegami will go with you to buy shoes later. Come back early; we still have practice tonight.”
“Okay!” Sakuragi immediately forgot about comparing heights with Uozumi and excitedly began to pack his things, muttering, “I need to buy a pair that’s even cooler than the last! This genius is now a power forward over 190 centimeters!”
Sendoh leaned back against the wall, smiling and shrugging at Gu Jin: “Look how happy he is.”
Gu Jin watched Sakuragi’s skipping back, feeling a sense of relief—this Sakuragi, not only unburdened by family matters, but also able to grow up happily and play basketball, was probably the best version of him.