Chapter 57: The Little Move
Makoto Hanamiya seized the opening, blew past Seijuro Akashi, and pulled up for a clean jump shot.
The score was tied, 2–2.
Miyamoto Tokima glanced at Akashi and asked quickly,
“Seijuro, are you okay?”
Akashi shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Only then did Miyamoto Tokima relax a little.
“Let’s switch on defense, Seijuro. I’ve got a buff advantage right now.”
Neither referee noticed Hanamiya’s little dirty move just now—their attention had been focused almost entirely on Miyamoto Tokima.
Akashi nodded, agreeing to the switch.
Possession changed.
The adjustment was only on defense; on offense, Akashi remained the point guard.
After bringing the ball past half court, Akashi passed it to Miyamoto Tokima.
Miyamoto Tokima caught the ball, grinned, and cast a mocking glance at Meisei’s small forward.
“I’ll make you regret this.”
The Meisei small forward froze for a moment, then snarled,
“Then come on.”
Miyamoto Tokima’s expression shifted instantly. His entire presence changed, a cold, oppressive aura rolling off him.
With his back to the defender, he began backing down.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The Meisei small forward clenched his teeth, trying desperately to hold his ground, but his resistance was laughably weak in front of Miyamoto Tokima.
Little by little, he was forced straight into the paint. Seeing this, Kentaro Seto rushed over to help.
By now, the Meisei forward’s face had gone pale—he felt like he could barely breathe.
Once inside, Miyamoto Tokima exploded upward. He twisted half a turn in midair, gripping the ball with both hands as he rose for the dunk.
The Meisei small forward and Kentaro Seto jumped together to contest—but neither could stop him. Miyamoto Tokima smashed the ball through the rim, sending both defenders crashing to the floor.
“Tweet!”
The referee’s whistle sounded.
“Meisei, number eight—reaching-in foul. The basket counts. One free throw.”
Yamada had been watching Miyamoto Tokima closely. The moment the two Meisei players closed in, his nerves tightened. As soon as he saw the small forward’s hand brush Miyamoto Tokima’s arm, he blew the whistle without hesitation.
Nearby, Okuyama Shuzan reluctantly lowered his own whistle.
Damn it… Yamada beat me to it. Next time, I have to be faster.
After finishing the dunk, Miyamoto Tokima came down and planted his foot squarely on the Meisei small forward’s chest.
“Aaagh!!!”
“What are you doing?!”
Meisei’s power forward rushed in and shoved Miyamoto Tokima away.
Daiki Aomine immediately surged forward, but Miyamoto Tokima grabbed him in time.
“Calm down, Aomine. Not now.”
“Tweet—tweet—tweet!”
Seeing his opening, Okuyama Shuzan blew his whistle sharply.
“Meisei, number twenty-three—technical foul!”
The Meisei power forward froze, then spun around furiously.
“What the hell kind of call is that?!”
Seeing that he was still mouthing off, Okuyama Shuzan was already preparing to call another technical and send him off.
Makoto Hanamiya hurried over and stopped him.
“Ref, ref—he’s just being impulsive. I’ll apologize for him.”
Okuyama Shuzan’s anger clearly hadn’t faded. He shook off Hanamiya’s hand and raised his whistle again.
“Bro.”
Miyamoto Tokima called out.
Okuyama Shuzan turned to look at him in confusion.
Miyamoto Tokima simply shook his head. Only then did Okuyama Shuzan lower the whistle.
Miyamoto Tokima finally let out a breath. If the power forward got tossed now, how was he supposed to play? How was he supposed to get his revenge?
He didn’t want them leaving the court this early. He wanted them to drown in fear.
You like playing dirty? Fine. He had plenty of ways to deal with that.
Their dirty plays would get called. His wouldn’t. With the buff active, Miyamoto Tokima might as well have been the rulebook itself.
Realizing there would be no further penalties, Hanamiya relaxed. He walked up to the Meisei power forward and growled,
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
The power forward nodded repeatedly.
“I… I get it…”
Miyamoto Tokima stepped to the line and calmly sank both free throws—the technical and the shooting foul—bringing the score to 6–2.
Meisei ball.
Hanamiya dribbled past half court and passed to Kentaro Seto.
Seto turned his back to Atsushi Murasakibara and flashed a vicious grin.
He stepped down hard on Murasakibara’s right foot and flipped up a hook shot that dropped cleanly through the hoop.
With his foot pinned, Murasakibara could only watch the ball fall in.
Only after the basket did Seto lift his foot and jog back on defense.
Murasakibara’s face twisted with anger as he muttered,
“I’ll crush you…”
As those words left his mouth, his entire presence changed. The air around him seemed to heat up.
Akashi noticed immediately, and on the next possession, he fed the ball to Murasakibara.
Murasakibara didn’t hold back. One brutal back-down sent Seto flying aside, followed by a thunderous dunk.
Seto rubbed his chest and muttered,
“Damn… that actually hurts.”
From the side, Hanamiya said coldly,
“Doesn’t matter. Just break him.”
Possession changed again.
Hanamiya dribbled slowly up the court, buying time for Seto to establish position.
Seto tried to seal Murasakibara, but quickly realized he was completely outmatched in strength. He shot a glance toward the power forward.
Receiving the signal, the power forward rushed over and planted himself behind Murasakibara.
Front and back, they trapped him in place.
Murasakibara tried to force his way out—then suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his knee.
The Meisei power forward had quietly driven his knee into the back of Murasakibara’s.
The sudden impact made Murasakibara’s leg give out, and he nearly dropped to one knee.
Hanamiya seized the moment and passed to Seto.
Seto caught the ball and prepared to shoot, forcing Shuzo Nijimura to rotate over on defense.
Expressionless, Seto didn’t take the shot. Instead, he dished it to the power forward.
Stepping on Murasakibara’s foot, the power forward laid the ball in.
Once again, Murasakibara watched the ball fall through the hoop.
He clenched his fists in fury. Miyamoto Tokima walked over and spoke softly,
“Atsushi, tonight—we’ll take you along.”
Murasakibara frowned, clearly confused.
“What?”
Miyamoto Tokima leaned in and quietly explained the plan for later.
As he listened, the anger slowly drained from Murasakibara’s face.
“Then… Miyamoto , you have to make sure you call me, okay?”
Miyamoto Tokima nodded with a light chuckle.
“Relax. You’ll have to work a bit later. Oh—and keep your movements subtle.”
Murasakibara nodded.
“Got it, Miyamoto.”
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