Disclaimer: Characters of Slam Dunk are created by Inoue-sensei. The only thing I earn is a couple minutes' fame. =P
OVER A BOWL OF SOUP
By Shinomori no Kami Daiji
It was his fault, really.
An overcast afternoon sky in spring was a dead giveaway. His mother already hinted at the coming showers, telling him to take an umbrella. To which, of course, he declined, saying his hands were too occupied with voluminous papers and forms. And he predicted he would be home before the first drop even comes down.
Was he wrong. Very wrong.
And getting very wet.
"Great. Just great," Hanagata Toru lamented as he dashed under the downpour. It was as if karma was teaching him a lesson on foresight. With all his projects duly accomplished, Hanagata thought of turning in all finished works early so he can spend more time on other things, including basketball practice. Since today was a free schedule, he had plenty of time hunting down his teachers and had submitted his projects to beat the rush. He tracked all but his Literature instructor, who called in sick. Oh, well. At least, he didn't have to take back a lot of paperwork. With his task accomplished, he headed for home.
Then the rain came, pointedly reminding him the virtues of an umbrella.
With a subdued grunt, Hanagata vainly shielded his precious documents under his school shirt. He didn't bother bringing a bag, either, since it was going to be empty after he submitted everything.
He sighed. Again: never take your mother's advice for granted.
Large droplets on his thick-framed glasses were beginning to fog his vision, so he decided he better stop somewhere or he'll be crashing into something. Hanagata looked about for any shelter, but it was either too crowded or there was no place for him to put down his papers to check them. Soon, he spotted a restaurant with a small awning enough to shelter two people. Hanagata sprinted to it.
He looked down on himself with a dismal little groan. He was really going to get it from his mother now. Mud splashed over his gray slacks and leather shoes. He slid the portfolio out from under his uniform. Large few drops here and there were on the outermost page, but the creases on some leaves won't be tolerated by his teacher. It looked like he'd have to redo some of it.
Hanagata placed his documents on the nearby tabletop just inside the door. He removed his glasses, wiping off the moisture with a dry spot on his shirt. Judging from the angry dark clouds, he would be stuck here for a time. The streets were quickly cleared of pedestrians as the rain fell.
Well, he thought resignedly as he replaced his spectacles, it couldn't get any worse...
"Ah... ah-CHOO!"
It just did. Great.
"Sumanai..." He sniffed, and then wiped his nose with a handkerchief.
"Welcome to Izumi-ya! May I take your order?"
Hanagata almost jumped at the booming voice of the caller.
"Gomen," he responded without turning. "I just sought shelter from the rain."
"It would take a while for it to stop. Why don't you try our menu?"
How come the voice was so familiar? Hanagata turned to face the owner of the voice.
"U-Uozomi?" he sputtered.
It was former Ryonan's basketball team captain, all right. But, behind the counter? And wearing an apron and a cap?
"Hanagata? Hanagata Toru?" The hulking youth was just as surprised, taking a few steps closer to the counter.
At first, the bespectacled youth didn't quite know how to respond. He settled on a grin.
"You work here?" he asked, making sure the surprise in his tone didn't imply dismay.
Uozomi nodded. "I'm helping out in the family business," he explained laconically.
Hanagata nodded in understanding. He had heard he was going to train as a chef. When he and Fujima learned of it, they were a bit surprised, and somewhat disappointed. They lost a worthy opponent in Uozomi, with only Sendoh left to contend with in the Ryonan team.
The Shoyo student noticed the other's scrutinizing gaze. "You're all drenched," Uozomi noted. "You'll catch a cold if you stay in your clothes."
Hanagata cocked a brow. "Too late," he replied, sniffling emphatically. He glanced outside anxiously. There was no sign of the downpour letting up.
"You ought to get something warm in you if you don't want it to get worse," the other youth suggested.
He winced slightly, admitting the truth in Uozomi's words. And he still has other things to do in school. With a mental shrug, he settled into one of the counter stools.
"All right, then," Hanagata relented, pausing to scan the menu behind Uozomi. "I'll have some miso."
Uozomi gave a curt nod with a small grin. "I'll be right back."
Hanagata heard his order being called out. There were only a handful of customers around, which he found fortunate as he moved to the far end of the restaurant by the glass window. People were starting to filter into the place, each in various states of wetness. He heard that same invitation Uozomi used to entice would-be customers, this time from a wiry man in his forties, wearing the same apron and cap. The man had a cheerier, livelier tone as he called out to the customers with a smile. Something Uozomi has to work on, he thought wryly.
He began unbuttoning his uniform and slung it over the backrest beside him, leaving only his white T-shirt. The shirt was just as damp, but he'd rather keep it than go shirtless in public. His handkerchief was out again, wiping at his face, arms and neck. It was almost soaked through. With that done, he drew out his papers and thumbed through them again. Only the first few pages need to be reprinted. No problem.
"Here you go."
Hanagata looked up to see Uozomi set the tray before him with a steaming bowl of miso. The scent that wafted to his nose made his stomach rumble. He was puzzled when Uozomi handed him a small towel.
"Use it," he urged.
Hanagata merely blinked at him, then stared at the towel before taking it. "Thank you." He began wiping at his face once more, then at his back and chest under his shirt, glad to be drier than before. He toweled his hair briskly before turning his attention to his meal.
"I'll be right back." Hanagata watched as Uozomi was called back to the counter and retrieved two trays. He continued to watch an old adversary serve and take orders from each table. The entire scene felt so surreal, was how Hanagata best described it. It wasn't something he'd imagine Uozomi in.
"Why don't you join me?" He called out to Uozomi as he passed nearby. "While you're not so busy?"
Uozomi looked uncertain. He glanced towards the counter where a man was wiping down the counter top.
"Go ahead," the man said. "I'll call on you when I need you."
Uozomi nodded his thanks and sat down opposite Hanagata.
"Your father?" Even from his vantage point, Hanagata could gauge the younger Uozomi towered over his parent by several centimeters. But the resemblance was unmistakable.
In response, Uozomi gave a curt nod. "He's taken care of the family business himself. I try to help around when I have the time."
"Ah." Hanagata took a tentative spoonful, letting the taste sink in. "This is really very good," he noted, taking another spoonful. "Who made this?"
"It's a family recipe. My father made the soup today," he answered with a small grin. "You came from school?"
"Yeah." Hanagata glanced at his project. "Regular classes are almost over, but I had to turn in some paperwork."
"Ah."
"Done with all your projects?"
"Mostly."
"It's like the school term's never going to end for the graduating students," Hanagata remarked. "Term papers, projects, college applications. It's crazy."
A side of Uozomi's lips curled up faintly. "I didn't apply to any. I'll be trained to handle the restaurant."
"I see."
They fell silent for several moments. They both felt uneasy, Hanagata knew. His companion was staring at his hands, as he himself stared everywhere but at the other's face. He wasn't a great conversationalist, which didn't help in their awkward silence.
"Are you and Fujima competing in the winter competitions?" Uozomi suddenly spoke up.
"Yeah. It's our last campaign, so we might as well see it through. Actually, the third years are still intact."
Uozomi's eyes widened. "You're all still playing?" He seemed like he couldn't believe his ears.
"Aa," Hanagata acknowledged with a hint of pride. "It's a pity people like you and Akagi won't be playing. There aren't much challenging players anymore."
"You think so?" Uozomi countered with a smirk. "Wait for the new Ryonan team. They'll be a team to reckon with."
Hanagata's lips quirked up as well. "We'll see in the winter games. Will you be watching the games?"
"If time permits," Uozomi answered with a shrug.
Hanagata nodded before turning his attention back to his meal. Could it have been that easy for him to give it up?
"You know, I still can't believe that you've retired this early," he admitted at last. "In the way things look, you're giving basketball up completely."
The former Ryonan center seemed unfazed by his remark. "One can't really tell what the future would be like. But, at the moment, yes, I've given it up." He paused. "You're disappointed."
"Who wouldn't be, when you're considered one of the top players in our district?" Hanagata averred. He would have been a fool not to acknowledge that fact. And since Uozomi seems permanently retired, he didn't have to worry about admitting it. "A lot of people would have liked to see you compete in the Winter Cup."
"No," Uozomi supplied, shaking his head. "My future was already laid out even before I entered senior high school. Basketball then was... like a mere distraction to me."
Hanagata gave a knowing grin. He was also forced into basketball in junior high. Baseball was what he would have signed for. But the coach of the basketball team saw him and told him not to waste his height and build on such a sport.
"I know the feeling," he told Uozomi.
"Do you plan to play in college?" Uozomi wanted to know.
"If they'll have me, absolutely," Hanagata readily answered. "Like you, basketball was just some diversion at first. But it started to grow on me, until it became a part of my routine. It also made what I am. I just can't get it out of my system." He smiled at his admission.
A small grin lit Uozomi's face. Yes, he knew what it was like.
"So. This will be your future, eh?" Hanagata looked about him. "A restaurant owner. Have you ever thought of becoming something else?"
"Ever since I was young, my father has always told me I'll be inheriting this restaurant when the time comes. I've never thought of becoming anything else. What's wrong with that?"
He held up a hand. "I didn't mean anything by it," he pointed out, nonplussed at the stern look the other gave him. "But have you ever, even in your wildest dreams, ever wanted to be someone else?"
Uozomi was caught unaware by his query, but immediately regained his composure.
"My destiny was already laid out for me," Uozomi replied after a moment. "It's a good fortune for me. Should I ask for anything more?"
A future already made. What more could anyone ask? The most valuable inheritance Hanagata is getting from his parents was a good education. His future was all up to him, being in control of his destiny. He knows what he wants to do with his life. He's not sure of how he would reach his goals—yet—but that's the fun part of the journey.
"That's true," he acknowledged, then taking another spoonful. "I mean, who wouldn't want to have an assured future? One that you don't have to strive so hard for?" He took several spoonfuls as he waited for an answer.
Uozomi stared at him quizzically. "What are you trying to say?"
Hanagata looked up at him. He realized how negative his comment sounded. "Granted that your life is already laid out for you," he reasoned, "wouldn't it be better if it was a life made in your own terms, to make your own choices, right or wrong?"
"It's what my father wanted for me," Uozomi's tone took on a slight edge. "Of course he'd want what's best for me."
"Sorry, I meant no offense," Hanagata supplied with a slightly sheepish grin. "You could say I'm envious of your future. But, you know, part of me is glad that my future's still to be determined."
It was true. While he wanted a security lock in his future, Hanagata would rather sweat for a future he had always wanted, and to be able to achieve his dreams. He was glad his family understood enough to let him follow his own pursuits. Some think that he would have a lucrative career if he went on playing basketball professionally. He was interested, to say the least. But he had other things in mind.
Uozomi just stared for some moments, then leaned closer. "Aren't you a bit fazed by it?" He sounded genuinely curious.
"Well, yeah," his reply came out slowly. "But my foundation's good, I think. And I plan to work hard in college. Of course, I'll make sure I'll be ready."
He glanced out the low window, his vision of the outside world obscured by the water-stained glass. But the rain looked like it was letting up.
"But what excites me the most are the challenges along the way," Hanagata continued, returning his gaze. "I love a good challenge. And I've learned that when you think you're ready for anything, something unexpected almost always happen."
"Like bowing out early in the tournament last summer." Uozomi tilted his head at him.
Hanagata merely gave a grin. He knew somehow he'd bring that up. "I have to admit that our loss made me rethink a lot of things," he confessed with a shrug, "but I'm beginning to learn more about myself." He couldn't help but grin at himself. "It's all a matter of choices."
Uozomi had a strange look on his face as he leaned back to his chair. "So have you chosen to take up in college?" he asked.
"Yes. I plan to take up conservatory music."
Uozomi began to make small choking sounds. "Music? You?" he managed to ask.
Hanagata snickered. It was the usual reaction anywhere. "I sure don't look the type, ne? It's true. It's my first love, and I plan to pursue it."
He smiled fondly as a memory came to mind. When his teammates first learned about his other talent, they laughed. But they sure were silenced when Hanagata made a demonstration with a violin in Shoyo High's music room. But he swore them to secrecy. The Music Department would have been scandalized if they learned he had been "wasting his talents all this time." He was still enjoying basketball too much.
His companion seemed still shell-shocked, who was still shaking his head. "I'm having a hard time imagining you even playing a musical instrument," he admitted.
An image of him seated in the strings section of the orchestra came to mind. He'd likely be a head taller than the rest, his lean frame cramped awkwardly in his seat. That would have been interesting...
"Well, imagine my surprise to learn you're going to be a cook," Hanagata countered. "And I'm sitting here, seeing you, and I still can't believe it."
Uozomi looked stunned, and only gazed wordlessly at him for some moments. Then a grin crept to his lips, emerging to a laugh, which Hanagata caught on.
"Well, aren't we a pair of unconventionals," Uozomi remarked when the laughter subsided.
"Can we help it if we're being true to ourselves?" But Hanagata was wondering, at seeing Uozomi again after the practice game with Shohoku. The strong pillar in Ryonan's blue… a chef's son in white apron and cap. Are they really one and the same person? He couldn't tell if he was happy with his decision, be it made for him or not. But then, he knew next to nothing about the former Ryonan center outside the bounds of basketball. Same goes with Uozomi of him. So who knows what the future held for them?
There are reasons why we made such choices, after all...
They sat in easy silence as they watched the rain ease to a drizzle, until afternoon rays of the sun began to find its way through the dark clouds. Hanagata had just finished his miso. He thought of ordering a second helping, but thought the better of it. The skies hadn't completely cleared.
"The miso was really good," Hanagata commended as he dabbed his lips with a paper napkin. "I'll remember to stop by here when I can."
Uozomi gave a lopsided grin. "Try our other dishes next time." He stood as Hanagata did.
"I will." He checked his papers again before stepping out the door, as he heard a man's voice inviting him to come again. Uozomi trailed behind him.
"Maybe we could play some ball next time," Hanagata suddenly suggested, turning to the taller youth.
"Maybe." The other's friendly grin didn't quite reach his eyes.
Hanagata only grinned slyly. "Why? Afraid that I'll beat you?"
The old rival's eyes narrowed, keening with the fire that Hanagata knew only too well.
"We'll see," was all Uozomi said.
He sniffed at his old foe's words of bravado before turning away, hiding a satisfied grin.
"Hanagata."
He turned his head.
"Next time?" Uozomi's lips stretched to a taunting grin. "Bring an umbrella."
The Shoyo center turned away, acknowledging the advice with a dismissing wave as he made his way to the streets. He hardly makes the same mistake twice.
O·W·A·R·I
Post A/N:
Thanks for reading this far. Hope it passed the time for ya! m(_ _)m I know it is weird to think someone like Hanagata would take up music. But, come on! It's not in the features where you base your career on. And why music? Oh, I don't know. There's just some… artistic quality about him. Maybe it's just me. I know Uozomi seems a bit OOC, being a very obedient son in following his father's wishes—even to me. But, being a good Japanese son, he wouldn't want to disgrace the family, ne? And why the heck did I write this? Oh, I just want to write another Hanagata ficcie. It might take a while before he appears in a longer one. I'm shutting up now. This might get longer than the story itself! Thanks for reading again! \(^_^)o