The boy was sixteen, just, and he was in the hospital. He was alone in the room, and the only sound was the rasp of his breath.
For once, he could not sleep.
He was in a lot of pain, and he couldn't sleep.
All he could do was alternate between staring up at the ceiling and staring at the blackness behind his eyelids.
He tried everything he had heard that others were supposed to do when they were trying to sleep.
He tried counting sheep as they jumped over a fence, but the sheep turned into basketballs dropping through a hoop. That didn't work.
He tried singing himself to sleep (well, humming, since he couldn't speak very well at the moment). That didn't work either, with the addition that it made his throat hurt even worse.
He even tried remembering one of his history teacher's lectures, which were a surefire method of putting not only himself but his classmates to sleep. Usually. All he got was a revision of the battle of Sekigahara and the passing of a sleepless fifteen minutes.
He wondered, briefly, how the rest were celebrating the New Year. His parents, he knew, were both overseas, as were some of his family. The rest of his family was either in Tokyo or Okinawa.
Probably the team was partying at Mitsui's house. His senior had mentioned something to that effect the last time he visited.
No one had visited him for the past few days. He had told himself that, after all, his parents were busy with work, and everyone else was rushing to prepare for the New Year festivities. No one had the time to spare to drop in on him and see how he was doing. Besides, everyone knew that a call was impossible, since his voice was currently so hoarse he could barely be understood.
Not being able to sleep led his thoughts into strange places.
He would have turned over if his leg had allowed him to. As it was, he remained in the same position in the bed, and his back was beginning to ache. He glanced at the clock beside him; the numbers told him it was already past one. His first hour being sixteen, and it was spent sleeplessly.
He was about to shut his eyes in a futile attempt to sleep again when the door to his room opened. He turned his head- is it the nurse? - to see his visitor. The silhouette was too tall, and far too masculine, to be the nurse.
"Oi, kitsune," came the rough voice of (only one would say) his greatest rival.
(Of course, had you questioned anyone in Ryonan, Kainan, Shoyo or any other basketball team in Kanagawa, the answer would have been Sendoh Akira. But the one currently in the doorway of his room was the one he had christened the do'aho, his greatest headache, and who had self-christened himself as his greatest rival.)
He grimaced. Currently, he didn't have the energy, or the willpower, or even the voice, to deal with Sakuragi Hanamichi. He managed a grunt, to acknowledge the other boy's presence.
Come to think of it, why was he here? The redhead had never appeared, nor been mentioned, by any of his previous visitors, save Ayako-sempai's passing on an apology from him. He didn't look like he wanted to be here, either; he was shifting on his feet, clearly uncomfortable.
He tried to speak, to tell him to sit down, but had a coughing fit instead, and finally just gestured to the chair beside him. The other boy, obviously unnerved by the fierce hacking from his characteristically silent teammate, sat down.
They remained in their positions for nearly five minutes, the raspy sound of inhaling and exhaling filling the room. Finally, groping for anything to disrupt the harsh noise, Sakuragi said, "Sorry."
When the patient didn't speak, or make any other noise to acknowledge this, he went on, "I'm sorry I accused you of playing sick. I… I shouldn't have… I mean…" He swallowed, and continued, "Anyway, I'm sorry." He pulled out a bottle from his bag. "I don't think the doctor would let me give this to you 'cause it's not hospital food, well, drink, so I snuck in." He held up a bottle. In the dim light reflected into the window, Rukawa had to squint to identify the liquid, labeled as soda.
He snorted, and pushed himself up to grab the pencil and paper on the table, gesturing for the other boy to switch on the light. Once it was bright enough for him to see what he was writing, he scribbled, Do'aho.
The redhead's temper flared, as usual, and made to shout and grab his head for the habitual headbutt, but he stopped, remembering where he was and why there was a need to be quiet. In a volume much lower than his regular level, he said, his voice tinged with irritation at both Rukawa as well as not being able to shout, "What the hell, you damn kitsune? I'm apologizing, I'm even bringing you a nice drink and you're insulting me?"
Can't drink anything except water. Doctor says sweet stuff will irritate my throat and make it worse.
Sakuragi made a noise in the back of his throat which seemed to indicate further irritation. "Crap, then I snuck it in for nothing. Shoulda come in the afternoon instead."
Why not evening?
"I was celebrating with my gundan, idiot. Obviously." Sakuragi, remembering the occasion, went on, "Oh, yeah. Happy New Year and all that, kitsune."
Happy New Year. After some thought, he wrote on, it's my birthday too.
"Eh? Oh. Happy birthday, then." Sakuragi was silent for a while, and then shifted forward in his chair. "Ne, so if you can't drink the soda, can I have it?"
The other boy shrugged and nodded. While Sakuragi gulped down the liquid, he wrote: Don't you celebrate with your family?
"My mother's… away." Sakuragi shrugged. "It doesn't matter, we don't celebrate anything together much anyway."
Rukawa nodded in agreement. While he and his parents had dutifully visited the shrine on New Year's Day when he was young, they'd eventually stopped in favour of a private New Year's/birthday celebration at home instead.
How's practice going?
"Okay. Ryochin's been riding our asses since you've been gone- you know how many more rounds he makes us run? Ten more." Sakuragi sounded aggrieved, but then cackled. "Too bad you won't be experienced enough to run ten more rounds when you come back! No, I'm sure you'll collapse after the second round instead!"
Rukawa made a deep-throated growl which he instantly regretted; it made his throat hurt even more. He reached for the glass of water by his bed, only to find it empty. He waved the empty glass at Sakuragi. When Sakuragi didn't respond, he put the glass down and wrote: pour me some water.
"What, can't you do it yourself?" Sakuragi said, more out of habit than anything else, but picked up the jug and filled the glass. The other boy gulped down the cool water in relief.
They went on talking a little longer, one in speech, the other in writing (though he remained relatively quiet in terms of communication). Eventually, Sakuragi asked, a little pensively, "Hey, Rukawa. Aren't you interested in girls at all?"
When Rukawa didn't seem to react in any way, Sakuragi went on, "I mean, you don't seem to date and you've got your huge (and idiotic) fanclub and there's Ha…" The name seemed to stick in his throat, so he swallowed and went on, "Well, anyway, you don't seem to have any interest at all in dating."
No answer.
Sakuragi had a look at Rukawa and found him asleep. He made a derisive snort and muttered, "Typical baka kitsune." He left, taking the empty soda bottle as he left. The paper and pencil remained on the bed where Rukawa had released them, to make his falling asleep look more natural.
2:30 am and he still couldn't get to sleep. Well, at least pretending had helped him get rid of the do'aho.
Hey, Rukawa. Aren't you interested in girls at all?
Now you have the air of a high school ace, Rukawa.
Work hard in the nationals!
Rukawa, you've improved!
Well done, man!
See you next week, Rukawa. Say hi to Sakuragi for me, will you?
Ryonan will beat Shohoku next year. Let's make a bet, Rukawa!
Two days after he was supposed to play one-on-one with Sendoh; four days after he had broken his leg; six days after he had contracted laryngitis. He had not been able to contact him, to tell him not to come; Sendoh must have waited all day.
A week after he had been admitted to the hospital. Ayako-sempai had turned up with Sendoh in tow: "Hey, Rukawa! How's your leg? You still sick? When d'you think it'll heal? Should I camp here until you can play again? I can't wait 'til we play together again!"
"No," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, barely a sound at all. "No, I'm not, Sakuragi."
*
In case it isn't clear, yes, it is Sendoh and not Sakuragi that Rukawa is thinking about. Because Sendoh doesn't speak to Rukawa directly very often, I couldn't use many quotes from the manga and ended up with a longer conclusion than I had planned. (sigh.)
And Happy New Year to all who read this.