Credits: Slam Dunk was created by Takehiko Inoue. It is owned/licensed by IT Planning, Toei Animation, Geneon Entertainment (USA), Shueisha (manga).
Disclaimer: Slam Dunk characters borrowed for the love and joy of the writing, and not for acquiring profit. The members of the Haneda family and other members of Sachiko's posse are mine. As with all fics, while the goal is to stay as in character as possible, the author cries "mea maxima culpa" to any discrepancies that the discerning reader may find.
Author's Notes: Because when I wrote this, I had just found out at 8pm Manila time that it was Mitsui-kun's birthday -- because I got off from chat and other things at 10pm -- because I just couldn't sleep till I wrote this, even if I missed posting it on the actual day. **glomps Mitsui-kun** HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Mitsui-kun!!
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Mitsui Hisashi sighed softly as he dropped his bag in its accustomed place, just inside the door of his room. For all intents and purposes, it had been an ordinary day. Routine.
He'd gotten up, as usual. Had a quick shower. Dressed in the dark blue uniform of Shohoku High School. Had breakfast. Brushed his teeth, with careful attention to his dentures. Gone to school. Tried not to sleep through classes. Headed for the gym after class.
All quite as usual.
Only two things marked the day out of the ordinary. The first was that Anzai-sensei had cancelled practice, shooing the boys out of the gym while admonishing Akagi that "you need to think of something other than basketball once in a while." So with whoops of glee, the members of the Shohoku basketball team disappeared to various points as far from the gym as possible. A goodly number of them decided to head for the beach, where the Sakuragi Gundan had been making a comfortable living ever since the Inter-High training days. Others, like Mitsui, had decided to go home early. And a few more actually decided to hang around the school premises, waiting till Anzai-sensei had his back turned before sneaking back into the gym for "just a few more practice shots."
The second thing to mark the day as out of the ordinary was that it was the 22nd of May.
His birthday.
Mitsui moved toward the window of his room, looking out of it with wistful sapphire eyes. Birthdays had always been special occasions in his family when he was young. When life was somehow happier. His parents had managed to make the day a memorable one for young Mitsui -- ice cream, a trip to the zoo, a movie -- there was always something to mark the day. Hugs, warm smiles, "Otanjoubi omedetu, Hisashi-kun!" Gifts, too. But somehow, the gifts didn't matter as much as knowing that his parents had taken pains to choose something just for him -- not something they thought he should have, but always, something he *really* wanted.
Somehow, things changed as he got older. His parents seemed somehow to grow cooler, more distant, both from each other, and from their only son. This despite his better-than-average scholastic record and stellar performance on the basketball court. Mitsui quickly learned to look for acceptance outside his home rather than inside it; a yearning that led to his association with Hotta and his gang, and Tetsuo. An association that nearly led to his destruction, after the fateful accident that nearly ended his basketball career.
Mitsui sighed again, deeper this time, as he opened the window and let the cool air into the stuffy room. Somehow he had made it back; won the trust and respect of the people he had hurt the most, earned his place on the team. They treated him as one of their own now, and were proud to acknowledge his presence among them.
Which made it all the more hurtful to see them disappear so quickly once Anzai-sensei cancelled practice. Disappeared without a trace, without so much as a sign to acknowledge that it was his birthday. Granted, not all of them knew it was his birthday -- and of those who knew, not all had been close enough to make the effort to remember the date. Except for two people, and Mitsui knew in his heart of hearts that, of the pair, there was only one voice he really wanted to hear, saying the familiar words of greeting and well-wishes.
Disappointment was bitter in Mitsui's throat, and with a muttered curse he turned away from the window, fighting the odd feeling of wanting to burst into tears. He had deliberately tried not to let himself hope for such a sign of friendly affection -- but now that the day was over, Mitsui could see how much he had really wanted the reassurance implicit in the simple words. And seeing how much he had hoped only sharpened the knife-edge of disappointment that sliced through him.
Well, that's that, then. Another day gone by, nothing special, he told himself, looking around the familiar disarray of his room. I'll give myself tonight to feel lousy about it, and tomorrow. . .it'll be just another day. Can't afford to have another long pity party for myself, not anymore.
The soft chirruping of the extension phone in his room startled him. Who would be calling at this hour? Mitsui grew even more bewildered as a knock sounded on his door and his father's gruff voice announced that the phone call was for him. But the mystery would not solve itself on its own, so he picked up the phone, waited for the click that announced that the downstairs extension was closed, and spoke -- somewhat abruptly -- into the mouthpiece.
"Ne, Mitsui-kun, you sound awfully grumpy for someone having a birthday," chuckled a warm, familiar voice. A voice filled with friendship and fierce affection. The midnight-blue eyes grew wide.
"Kogure?"
"Hai, Mitsui-kun," came the chuckle once again, as Mitsui felt the warm glow of sudden joy fill his chest. "You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you?"
"Errr. . .yes, to be honest, I did."
"Can't say as I blame you. There were some things I had to do. . .and when I turned around, you were gone. Are you still mad at me?"
"Not anymore," was the reply, a broad grin splitting Mitsui's face. "Not that I was really mad at you. Just severely disappointed."
"Fair enough," came Kogure's voice over the phone, then a soft sigh. "I'm sorry I put you through that, Mitsui-kun."
"Hey, it doesn't matter. You remembered, everything's all right now."
Mitsui could feel himself grinning like a loon, but it didn't matter. His heart's desire had come to pass, and everything was indeed all right. But apparently, it wasn't enough for Kogure, and his next words startled the shooting guard.
"Ne, Mitsui-kun. I'm actually here at the pay-phone across the street from your house. If it's OK with you, I'd like to come over."
"Sure, no problem. . .I'll go down and meet you at the gate."
"That's fine. But there's something I want you to do for me first."
"Oh? What's that?"
"Look out of your window into the street."
"Nani?"
"Onegai, Mitsui-kun," said Kogure in the coaxing tone that never failed to soften Mitsui's resolve -- or his knees. "As a favor to me. Bring the phone with you, and tell me what you see."
"You sound as crazy as Sakuragi, Kogure-kun," laughed Mitsui, bringing over the cordless unit to his open window. "What could possibly be. . .OH!"
"Anou, Mitsui-kun. . .what do you see?" asked Kogure's voice, laughing openly into Mitsui's ear, as if the vice-captain knew all along what the answer would be, even as Mitsui began describing the scene before him.
"They're. . .it's the team. . .even the gundan is down there. . .they've got lighted candles. . ." Mitsui bit his lip and struggled for control, before continuing, "Aya-chan's holding a cake. . .dammit, Kogure, you planned this, didn't you?"
"Correction, Mitsui-kun. We planned it, all of us together," grinned Kogure, waving from the payphone up to the window where his best friend was standing. "You have no idea the fits we have had, wondering if Sakuragi could be trusted to keep the secret. But apparently Rukawa has more influence over him than anyone ever thought."
"Really? What did he do?"
"That's another story, Mitsui-kun. I'll tell you later. But first. . ." said Kogure, giving the signal everyone had been waiting for. The little crowd gathered at Mitsui's gate shifted on their feet, cleared their throats, and then, in various degrees of proficiency, burst into song.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday Mitsui Hisashi,
Happy birthday to you!!!"
"THREE CHEERS FOR MICCHY!!" roared Sakuragi, which caused the entire team to sweatdrop even as they obliged; grinning cheerfully up at Mitsui collapsed in laughter on his windowsill.
"Kogure-kun. . .I don't know what to say. . ."
"You don't need to say a word, Mitsui-kun," came the reply, and there was no mistaking the fiercely loving tone beneath the light words. "You're our friend, and friends look after their own. If you thought we'd let you get out of sharing your birthday with the rest of us, you were very wrong. Now come down and open the gate, will you?"
"Be down before you know it."
Later, much, much later -- after good food, much laughter and a great deal of affectionate teasing -- Mitsui sighed happily in his bed before preparing to sleep. His last conscious thoughts were of the warm hug and the glow in a pair of cinnamon eyes, as Kogure's smooth voice whispered in his ear, "Otanjoubi omedetu, Hisashi-kun!"
All quite as usual.
//owari//