The Underdog's Provocation

At that moment, the entire arena erupted.

"Awesome!!"

"That number 7 is so cool!"

"Now that's what a point guard should be!"

In the stands, Aida Hikoichi's eyes were already sparkling with stars.

He gripped the railing tightly, leaning forward as his whole body trembled with excitement.

"This is it! This is it!"

"Smaller players can dominate the game too!"

"Ryota Miyagi... he's the idol of people built like us!"

Hikoichi's pen flew across the page: Ryota Miyagi, lightning-fast, unbelievable!

"Ryota! Nice one!!"

Beside Shohoku's bench, Ayako waved her paper fan and cheered loudly.

Her energetic voice pierced through the noise and struck Miyagi right in the heart.

Ryota Miyagi, who had been wearing an arrogant, domineering expression just moments ago—

Changed completely the instant he heard Ayako's voice.

"A-Ayako..."

"She's cheering for me..."

"Hehehe..."

Miyagi's entire face instantly turned red as he grinned foolishly toward the sideline.

"Idiot!! Don't look somewhere else!!"

"The game isn't over yet!!"

Takenori Akagi's roar rang out like thunder.

However, in the second Miyagi lost focus, Shoyo's defenders had already rushed in, trying to steal the ball back.

Little did they know that Miyagi had anticipated it long ago.

The next second, the ball was in Akagi's hands.

"Give it to me."

A whirlwind swept past him.

Before Akagi knew it, Ryota Miyagi had already charged back and taken the ball straight from his hands.

"I'll make Ayako watch even more closely!!"

The power of love was great.

With the ball in hand, Miyagi saw nothing but the basket.

Like a bullet, he drove straight into Shoyo's paint.

"How arrogant!"

Shoyo's number 5 and number 7 jumped up together to block him.

Two huge hands blotted out the sky, sealing off nearly every angle.

"You can't get past this height!"

Yet Miyagi did not slow down.

He suddenly leaped while charging forward at full speed.

His body curled into a ball in midair, dodging the first wave of blocks.

Then, still in the air, he made an incredibly convincing fake, as if he were about to pass to the perimeter.

The two defenders instinctively turned their heads slightly.

At that very instant—

"Watch closely, Ayako!"

He slipped past both defenders, softly flicking his wrist.

The basketball left his fingertips, lightly kissed the backboard, and bounced into the net.

"Swish!"

11:10.

Only one point behind!

After landing, Miyagi did not celebrate.

He turned around, raised his right hand, and pointed his index finger straight at Shoyo's bench.

At the man who had been sitting there all along with a jacket draped over his shoulders—Fujima Kenji.

Though he said nothing, the meaning in his eyes could not have been clearer:

How much longer are you going to sit there?

If you don't come down soon, I'm going to devour your team!

The entire arena fell silent.

Then cheers even fiercer than before exploded from the crowd.

This was a naked provocation!

A provocation from the underdog!

Fujima Kenji looked at the finger pointing at him.

At last, a ripple appeared on his formerly calm face.

He slowly rose to his feet and faced the referee.

"Tweet—!"

The referee's whistle sounded.

"Shoyo requests a timeout!"

"Tweet—!!"

As the referee's sharp whistle rang out, the game entered a timeout.

The scoreboard remained at 11:10.

Although Shoyo still held a one-point lead—

The atmosphere throughout the arena felt strangely as if Shohoku had taken the lead instead.

"Hey, hey, hey... was that really Shohoku's point guard just now?"

"That height... is he really only 168 centimeters?"

"He looks so tiny, but his speed is terrifying!"

In the stands, the previously one-sided support for Shoyo had begun to crack.

Ryota Miyagi's dazzling sequence of dribbling, stealing the ball, and that intensely provocative layup—

Was like a loud slap across the faces of everyone who had looked down on Shohoku.

"Hahahaha! Ryota! That was beautiful!!"

In a corner of the stands, Sakuragi's Gang danced about excitedly.

"Did you see that?! That's Shohoku's assault captain!!"

Takamiya Nozomu sprayed potato chips all over the floor, waving his chubby arms as he shouted.

"Who would've thought Miyagi could look so cool when he got serious? Usually, whenever Ayako turns him down, he looks like such a loser." Mito Yohei leaned against the railing, laughing.

"Shh! Keep it down, Yohei. He'll hear you!" Yuji Ookusu reminded him with a wicked grin.

By the court, at Shohoku's bench.

Ryota Miyagi held his head high and strutted back like a victorious rooster.

As he walked, he kept sneaking frantic glances in Ayako's direction.

"Ayako! So?"

"Was that layup cool or what?"

Miyagi leaned toward Ayako with an expression begging for praise, as though the tail behind him were about to wag itself into the sky.

"Smack!"

Ayako's paper fan struck Miyagi on the forehead.

"It was pretty cool, but don't get carried away, idiot Ryota!"

Though she said that, Ayako could not hide the upward curl of her lips, and her eyes were full of laughter.

"Hehehe... Ow, ow, ow..."

Miyagi clutched his forehead, but inwardly, he was delighted.

At the other end of the bench—

Lin Bei was not resting with his eyes closed as usual.

He held a half-finished bottle of sports drink in his hand.

His always half-lidded, dead-fish eyes now stared through the noisy crowd at Shoyo's resting area.

More precisely, at the man sitting on the bench, surrounded by a group of green giants.

Fujima Kenji.

"Interesting..."

Lin Bei muttered, lightly tapping the bottle with his fingers.

"After being provoked like that by Miyagi, he can still smile?"

"This guy is even more calculating than I imagined."

Shoyo's resting area.

The atmosphere was so heavy it seemed ready to drip water.

Taku Ito lowered his head, clutching a towel tightly in both hands until his knuckles turned white.

Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose onto the floor, yet he did not even dare raise his head to look at Fujima.

As a point guard, being effortlessly beaten off the dribble by that short opponent as though he were crossing a street, then getting stripped directly—it was simply the greatest humiliation.

"I'm sorry... Fujima-senpai..."

Ito's voice trembled with deep self-reproach.

The other players—Hasegawa, Takano, and Nagano—remained silent as well.

In that instant, the "height" they had taken such pride in had seemed so clumsy and sluggish before Ryota Miyagi's "speed."

"Everyone, lift your heads."

A gentle yet unquestionable voice rang out.

Fujima Kenji sat in his chair, without the anger everyone had expected on his face.

On the contrary, he even wore a faint smile.

That smile was like a dose of tranquilizer.

In an instant, it soothed the restless unease in Shoyo's hearts.