Chapter 43: Are You Really Content to Be a Bystander?

The power forward stepped up in time to set a screen, cutting off Seijuro Akashi’s path.

Suzuki seized the opening, quickly circling around the power forward and sprinting toward the right side.

Naturally, Shuzo Nijimura wasn’t about to let Suzuki get past him so easily. He hurried over to help on defense, but instead of driving, Suzuki pulled back and retreated beyond the three-point line.

Because Nijimura had rotated over together with Fukuda’s power forward, there was still some distance between him and Suzuki.

The moment he saw Suzuki stop at the arc, Nijimura rushed forward to contest the shot.

Suzuki raised the ball and shot immediately from beyond the three-point line. Shuzo Nijimura leaped up to block, but he was just a step too slow. The ball flew past his fingertips and dropped cleanly through the net.

As the shot went in, Suzuki clenched his fist tightly and shouted excitedly,
“Yes!”

Hotani ran up and high-fived him.
“Nice one, Suzuki.”

Possession changed. Teikō ball.

Seijuro Akashi passed the ball to Miyamoto Tokima, who clearly intended to continue attacking with what they called Lightning Dribbling.

Since Fukuda had shown such stubborn fighting spirit, Miyamoto Tokima felt he should respond with real strength. Holding back on the court was disrespectful to one’s opponents—though if the gap in ability was truly overwhelming, a little restraint could be acceptable. After all, that was just basic courtesy.

“Four-Finger.”

Miyamoto Tokima said calmly. In the next instant, a streak of black lightning ripped straight through Fukuda’s defense, and the ball dropped steadily into the basket.

But Fukuda still refused to give up. On the next possession, they scored again through crisp teamwork.

Every one of them burst with astonishing fighting spirit. Instead of relying on isolation plays, they chose strategy and cooperation, pushing that ball in on sheer willpower alone.

Teikō’s turn to attack.

Still fuming after Fukuda’s consecutive baskets, Atsushi Murasakibara planted himself under the rim, sealing off Fukuda’s center, then raised his hand to call for the ball.

The Fukuda center grimaced. He clenched his teeth, planted his feet firmly, and strained with both arms against Murasakibara.

The gap in strength between them was simply enormous. Just holding Murasakibara in place was already draining him rapidly.

On the perimeter, Seijuro Akashi lofted the ball inside. Atsushi Murasakibara caught it securely.

Feeling that the man behind him was already exhausting himself just trying to hold him back, Atsushi muttered,
“Tch.”

Then he began to exert force.

Thud… thud… thud…

The sound of bodies colliding echoed across the court.

The Fukuda center took a deep breath, held it in, and braced himself for impact.

Each time Atsushi Murasakibara slammed into him, the center was forced back a step, until he was driven all the way under the basket.

By now, the Fukuda center’s face had turned ghastly pale. It felt as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

Even so, he still refused to give up, desperately trying to hold his ground.

Atsushi Murasakibara sensed the resistance too. A center who usually folded after a couple of bumps was still standing firm. That only made his anger flare up.

Atsushi suddenly poured on even more strength.

Crash!!!

With a heavy impact, the Fukuda center finally couldn’t hold on and stumbled backward several steps.

Seeing the opening, Atsushi Murasakibara jumped without hesitation, ready to dunk the ball.

“Ahhh!!!”

All of a sudden, the Fukuda center lunged back, leaping high and roaring as he fought Atsushi Murasakibara in midair.

But how could his strength possibly match Atsushi’s? With a dull thud, the Fukuda center was slammed to the floor.

Still, thanks to that all-out defense, the ball was knocked loose.

Atsushi Murasakibara’s dunk flew off target.

“Beep! Out of bounds. Fukuda ball.”

The referee’s whistle rang out.

Realizing he had missed the dunk, Atsushi Murasakibara was seething with anger. After landing, he stared coldly at the Fukuda center.

The Fukuda center showed no fear at all. He stood up and met Atsushi’s gaze head-on.

“Atsushi.”

Miyamoto Tokima’s voice sounded out. Atsushi responded with a low “Oh,” then turned and jogged back on defense.

Only after Atsushi retreated did the Fukuda center finally let out a long breath, grimacing as he rubbed his chest.

‘That hurt… Just how strong is he?’

Hotani hurried over and asked,
“You okay?”

The Fukuda center shook his head to signal he was fine.

Only then did Hotani relax and move to restart the offense.

On the bench, Kotaro Hayama watched everything unfolding on the court—the scenes one after another, and his teammates’ unwavering determination not to give up. A faint light returned to his previously lifeless eyes as he murmured softly,

“Everyone…”

As the game continued, Fukuda launched a desperate offensive, throwing themselves into relentless physical battles against Teikō.

Being a year older than Seijuro Akashi and the others, their bodies were more developed.

That allowed them to exploit mismatches and gain a slight edge through sheer strength.

On defense, they clung to Teikō’s players like glue, sticking to them relentlessly—even when they didn’t have the ball—leaving no space at all.

This kind of defense, completely disregarding stamina loss, made things uncomfortable for Shintaro Midorima and Seijuro Akashi. Since they hadn’t fully ignited yet, this pressure inevitably limited their performance.

Of course, Fukuda’s defense had a fatal flaw: it drained stamina at an alarming rate. And more importantly, there was one Teikō player they simply couldn’t stop—Miyamoto Tokima.

Miyamoto Tokima took over Teikō’s offense, repeatedly tearing through Fukuda’s defense with Kotaro Hayama’s Lightning Dribbling, keeping the score difference hovering around twenty points.

“Beep!”

The referee’s whistle sounded, officially ending the third quarter.

Fukuda’s players dragged their exhausted bodies off the court, collapsing onto the bench and gulping air as they struggled to recover their strength.

Kotaro Hayama looked at his teammates, all slumped over and panting heavily. Their faces were drenched in sweat, yet their eyes still burned with fighting spirit.

A complex mix of emotions surged through his chest as he questioned himself silently:

‘My friends are fighting out there on the court, battling for victory, pouring out sweat and effort. And yet I’ve been hiding on the sidelines, avoiding the fight, too afraid to face the challenge, too afraid to stand beside them. What am I doing? Am I really going to stay a bystander forever? Am I really content to just watch them struggle while I do nothing?’

‘No! I’m not a coward! I won’t be a bystander! I want to fight alongside my teammates!’

Kotaro Hayama’s expression hardened. Determination returned to his eyes as he turned his head and spoke,

“Coach…”