Chapter 62: Injury
Seijuro Akashi seemed to sense Makoto Hanamiya’s movement and quickly pulled his hand back.
Makoto Hanamiya’s pupils shrank slightly, disbelief flashing through his eyes.
‘He dodged it?’
Not exactly.
Akashi’s withdrawal was still a fraction too slow—his fingers were struck by Hanamiya.
A sharp pain shot through Akashi’s fingers, his expression shifting as his defensive rhythm stalled for an instant.
Hanamiya seized the opening, drove past him, and finished with a floater.
The score became 22–16.
After scoring, Hanamiya didn’t celebrate. Instead, he turned toward Akashi with a grim expression.
He walked up beside him and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.
“You got lucky this time. Next time, it won’t be so easy.”
Akashi’s gaze hardened.
“Playing like this… even if you win, can you really feel happy? Do you truly love basketball?”
At this point, Akashi had yet to fall into darkness. His love for basketball rivaled anyone’s, and he genuinely couldn’t understand Hanamiya’s way of playing.
Hanamiya suddenly froze.
His eyes dimmed as he lowered his head, speaking in a dejected voice.
“I… I really do like basketball…”
Seeing this, Akashi questioned him, confused.
“Then why use such dirty methods?”
Hanamiya kept his head down. Tears slid from the corners of his eyes as his dispirited voice rang out again.
“I didn’t have a choice… If I didn’t do that… I would never make it to the National Tournament… I could never beat those powerful opponents…”
As he spoke, Hanamiya suddenly grabbed his jersey, clutching it tightly in frustration. His voice trembled as he continued.
“I promised everyone… that I would win the Nationals…”
Akashi thought Hanamiya truly had his reasons and was just about to comfort him—
When Hanamiya suddenly burst into laughter.
“Hahahahahaha!”
He lifted his head, stuck out his tongue, and stared at Akashi with a mocking look, as if everything just now had been nothing more than an act.
“I lied, idiot. You didn’t seriously believe that, did you? Hahahaha!”
Realizing he’d been fooled, Akashi’s expression darkened. Suppressing his anger, he clenched his teeth and spat out a few words.
“You bastard!”
Hanamiya paid no attention to Akashi’s fury, continuing his manic laughter as he sneered.
“There’s a saying—other people’s misfortune tastes as sweet as honey.”
“So don’t get the wrong idea, idiot.”
“I don’t care about winning. I just want to see people who devote everything to victory end up lying on a hospital bed, wailing in pain. That sight… it’s beautiful. Hahahahahaha!”
Still laughing wildly, Hanamiya stepped right up in front of Akashi and spoke with blatant mockery.
“You asked if I’m happy?”
Hanamiya’s face twisted into pure madness.
“Of course I am! That game against your seniors last year was a masterpiece!!!”
Daiki Aomine rushed in and shoved Hanamiya away.
“You piece of trash!”
After being pushed back, Hanamiya casually brushed the spot on his chest and laughed.
“This isn’t over yet…”
Turning away, he walked toward his own half of the court.
“Your clenched teeth and hatred are only just beginning!”
Miyamoto Tokima stared fixedly at Hanamiya’s back.
He could feel it—something Hanamiya had just said was a lie…
...
The game continued.
Seijuro Akashi dribbled past half court with his right hand, facing Makoto Hanamiya.
Hanamiya’s words had completely enraged him. This time, Akashi had no intention of passing.
He chained together several between-the-legs dribbles, then planted his left foot and exploded forward, breaking to the right.
Hanamiya immediately stuck to him, slipping in subtle dirty moves with his hands as he followed.
Sensing it, Akashi pulled the ball back and glared angrily at Hanamiya.
“You despicable bastard!”
Hanamiya spread his hands and flashed a wicked grin.
“What’s wrong, genius? You can’t even get past me?”
It was the first time Akashi had ever been provoked to this extent.
Gritting his teeth, he burst forward again from the right side.
Hanamiya saw through his intent and sneered inwardly.
‘Idiot.’
He quickly blocked the right lane, confident he had him locked down—
Then his expression changed instantly.
‘A fake!’
Akashi had only pretended to drive right. The moment Hanamiya shifted his feet, Akashi crossed over and blew past him on the left.
Realizing he’d been beaten, Hanamiya quickly glanced at the referees. Seeing their attention was still fixed on Miyamoto Tokima, he reached out and tugged Akashi.
Akashi’s dribble stuttered, and he nearly lost control of the ball.
But Hanamiya released his grip almost immediately.
Akashi still forced his way into the paint, shook off Kentaro Seto, and finished the basket.
As both teams began to retreat on defense, Akashi moved up beside Miyamoto Tokima.
“Tokima…”
Tokima turned his head.
“What is it, Akashi?”
Akashi spoke calmly.
“After the game, count me in.”
Tokima froze for a moment, then smiled.
“Alright.”
...
Over the next few minutes, Miyamoto Tokima relentlessly attacked Meisei’s interior. With the referee buff in effect, Meisei’s players didn’t dare lay a finger on him.
On offense, Hanamiya and his teammates continued relying on dirty tactics, instantly maxing out the anger meters of both Daiki Aomine and Atsushi Murasakibara.
With twenty-six seconds left in the second quarter, the score had climbed to 41–29, Teikō leading by twelve.
Akashi brought the ball across half court and seized an opening, firing a pass to the wide-open Shogo Haizaki.
Haizaki caught it and, without hesitation, sank the shot.
The score became 43–29.
Fourteen seconds remained.
Hanamiya extended his hand.
“Ball!”
Kentaro Seto passed it to Makoto Hanamiya, who charged toward Teikō’s frontcourt.
Facing Akashi, Hanamiya dropped the ball low and drove hard to the right.
Akashi hurriedly slid sideways to stay with him.
Suddenly—
Hanamiya executed a sharp between-the-legs stop and violently shoved Akashi with his left hand.
Already in the middle of a fast lateral movement, Akashi instantly lost his balance and slammed into the floor.
Bang!!!
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