But the players from Kajiyama High weren't pushovers either. Relying again on their towering center, they clawed back, narrowing the score little by little.
The third quarter had entered the truly grueling phase—both sides were exhausted yet desperate.
Fukuda Sogo aimed to pull ahead decisively, while Kajiyama sought to close the gap. The fourth quarter would be the ultimate showdown, where all-out effort would determine the victor.
Sweat dripped relentlessly, as if someone were pouring water over the players' heads. The main target was Kajiyama's center, No. 11, Yamada Nozawa—a third-year senior.
Fukuda Sogo's three players over 190 cm formed a triangular formation around him under the basket. Each leap required maximum effort, each jump faced crushing pressure from at least two directions.
Nozawa's stamina drained rapidly. As the third quarter neared its end, the score gap wasn't shrinking—it was widening. Anxiety gnawed at him; as captain, he felt the pressure intensely.
One of his teammates missed another three-pointer. The rebound was up for grabs. Nozawa leapt with all his might, reaching for the ball.
But he realized the three opponents beside him seemed to be rising higher with each jump. Panic struck—why were they like this?
He missed the rebound. I can't get the ball?
While Nozawa was frozen in disbelief, Fukuda Sogo had already launched a fast break. Suzuran Karasu grabbed the rebound and passed to Harano Shinichi, who sprinted down the court and launched the ball toward the backboard.
One figure leapt high, catching the ball mid-air and slamming it through the hoop.
"BOOM!"
The sound of the dunk reverberated in every Kajiyama player's ears. The score gap had reached 20 points. Kajiyama's hope flickered, as if it were about to vanish into darkness.
The whistle blew, signaling the end of the third quarter. Shimizu Rena leaned over to Shogo and said,
"Shogo-kun, it's over. Kajiyama's morale has completely collapsed. In the fourth quarter, you can squeeze them like soft persimmons."
"Good job, Shimizu-chan!"
Handing out towels and pure water, Shogo relayed Rena's words to his teammates. Excitement surged again.
This was the moment his teammates loved most—who wouldn't enjoy squeezing a soft persimmon?
Slap, slap, slap!
The sounds of steals and dunks delighted them endlessly.
In the fourth quarter, Kajiyama's players were demoralized, seeming almost ready to forfeit. Their performance faltered, while Fukuda Sogo's hot-blooded young men grew ever more exhilarated. Steals, dunks, and scores flew, thrilling everyone in the rest area—even Coach Ichiro Kudo's face was alight with smiles.
With such a commanding lead, this high school team was as secure as could be.
Coach Kudo rotated players, ensuring everyone gained experience.
When the final whistle blew, Fukuda Sogo erupted in cheers—they had reached the quarterfinals.
Even Shogo twirled around with the girl beside him in celebration, then bumped chests with every teammate who played, exulting in Fukuda Sogo's strength and unity.
After the match, pleased with the result, Shogo helped Rena gather their things. The group boarded the school bus back to campus.
Once off the bus, Shogo and Rena naturally sought a place for lunch.
Inside a cozy little restaurant, Shogo eyed the small dishes before him, his mouth watering.
He lifted a small bowl of steamed rice, savoring its faint aroma, then picked up a piece of charcoal-grilled pork tenderloin, dipping it in a special sauce made of chili and mustard.
One bite of tender pork, followed by a generous mouthful of rice…
The complex flavors—aromatic, tender, spicy—danced on his tongue, whetting his appetite and speeding up his eating.
Across from him, Rena ate her small plate of Japanese curry in dainty bites, smiling quietly at Shogo's ravenous enthusiasm.
"Shimizu-chan, this place you picked… it's amazing. Let's come back next time."
"If you like it, Shogo-kun, that's enough."
The food indeed reminded Shogo of home-cooked meals, evoking memories of his mother's cooking. He loved it.
Like a glutton, Shogo polished off every dish on the table. Then, he and Rena left the warm little restaurant together.
As he turned, he noticed the restaurant's sweet name: Beloved Heart.
Leaving the restaurant, Shogo and Rena headed to the fencing hall.
Donning masks, Shogo faced Rena on the strip, deliberately easing his movements. The two exchanged attacks with skill, though Rena led the sparring while Shogo played the part of the training partner.
"Shogo-kun, your skill is incredible!"
"Just so-so. By the way, Shimizu-chan, want to watch the match with me tomorrow?"
"The match?"
"Yeah. Ada and Kise Ryouta's game."
"Aomine-kun's game? I'm so excited!"
"The first semifinal prelims. I'm looking forward to it too."
"If that's the case, let's bring the team along. It's rare for them to see this kind of match—it'll broaden their experience and understanding."
Shogo paused, realizing he had almost overlooked such an important matter.
"Shimizu-chan, you're amazing!"
He spun the girl in his arms once in joy.
At that moment, a cough interrupted them.
"Ahem! Both of you! This hall is for fencing only—hotel services are not provided!"
Rena blushed furiously, turning to change in the locker room.
Shogo, with a mock guilty expression, picked up his foil and approached middle-aged Head Coach Yamamoto, seemingly ready for a duel.
Seeing Shogo's fierce stance, the coach spoke in a measured tone:
"Young man, maintain your image. Respect the elders and care for the juniors. Don't spend every day fighting—be calm and courteous."
He snatched Shogo's foil and put it away.
Though annoyed, Shogo only played along, leaning on the side of the strip.
"Since you've come to bother me, there must be a reason."
"Hahaha! Nothing big. The national team is recruiting for the youth training camp. Are you interested?"
"Youth training camp? Fencing? With my skills, I could take down the national team alone. Why would I need a youth camp?"
Coach Yamamoto gave him a look that said, Keep bragging; let's see how far you get. Shogo immediately shut his mouth.
"Thanks, Coach, but I really have no interest in the national team."
"Very well!"
The coach sighed again, staggering away from the strip.