Inside the Gymnasium, the roar of Sannoh's supporters was deafening, the sea of blue seething.
Shohoku's supporters were deathly silent, overwhelming despair engulfing them all like an icy tide.
Ryota Miyagi was deathly pale, his gaze unfocused; Kaede Rukawa pressed his lips tightly together, sweat dripping steadily; Hanamichi Sakuragi braced his hands on his knees and gasped for breath, his eyes filled with defiance.
Kiminobu Kogure did not know what to do; Ryota Kudo braced both hands on his knees, sweat flowing like streams, the taste of blood heavy in his mouth. Black spots began appearing at the edges of his vision, and every breath brought a burning pain and the taste of rust.
"Damn it... I can't hold on..." Miyagi's voice trembled with despair.
"..." Kaede Rukawa said nothing, merely clenching his fists.
"Rebounds! Get those rebounds!" Sakuragi's roar sounded so powerless in the face of the enormous deficit.
Coach Anzai watched the predicament on the court, then turned his solemn gaze toward the bench.
There, Takenori Akagi had long since thrown aside his crutches. His eyes were red and bloodshot as he stared fixedly at the court, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his veins bulged.
He looked at Coach Anzai, the pleading, resolve, and responsibility he bore as captain in his eyes almost bursting forth as tangible flames!
He roared silently: Let me play!
Coach Anzai's gaze lingered for a second on Takenori Akagi's ankle, still swollen beneath its thick bandages. Then he looked at the area under the basket, where Kawata was wreaking havoc at will, at the panting, isolated Ryota Kudo, and at the light gradually fading from his players' eyes.
He drew a deep breath, a glimmer of resolve flashing in his eyes behind his glasses.
Tweet! Coach Anzai