Disclaimer: I don't own Slam Dunk; Takehiko Inoue does.
A/N: Pardon me for the grammatical errors. This fic is done, I just had to divide it in two chapters because it's too long. Enjoy reading.
It all began in my first year in senior high. I entered the basketball club to come face to face with my match. Of course, who would've thought someone such as I could mark him as my equal? To start with, he was taller than me and that was all. Apart from not knowing a single thing about basketball, he was an idiot in every respect. In spite of these demerits, he joined the club anyway. Against the expectations of everyone who had a right to say anything about his situation, after three months of playing, no one could've said that basketball was something new to him. As for my reception to this peculiar twist of fate, I never knew anyone at school who was not acquainted with the fact that the animosity we had for each other could equal that of Jupiter and Pluto.
And no one in his right mind would've thought we'd end up together.
Upon graduating from senior high, we went our separate ways; he went to a university in Osaka and I to Tokyo. Living worlds apart, we would still see each other twice a week and managed to sneak in private hours amidst our rough schedule. That went on for three weeks.
The story started one day when I was on my way to school. It was when someone tapped on my shoulder that unpredictable events would find their way to me soon afterwards.
"Alright, Rukawa?"
It was Hisashi Mitsui. I was mildly ambushed, because I never got to talk to anyone in class for all the time I've been attending college till then, unless you count the times I asked a classmate which pages to study for the following day's exams. In short, interaction was something I hadn't by then fully mastered.
"Er, hi."
"Still not the talkative type, huh?" He observed. His smile, if anything, was sincere. Having been his team-mate for a year, I had taken Mitsui to be not the type who would wish anyone good health; he was more casual than that.
"I'm okay." I said, trying to sound cool. If truth be told, I was still immersed in the solitude of living alone in a one-bedroom pad and seeing Hanamichi only once or twice a week.
"Not a good day I suppose. Well, I've been trying to reach you since last week; I heard from a friend that Rukawa Kaede goes to the same school that we go to. And you do know what this means." He said and smiled shrewdly.
" When's the try-out?" I asked immediately.
"Come on, you know you don't have to attend the try-out. I'm vice-captain. First practice will be tomorrow at 7. See you there. And don't tell me you're not planning to enter the club, with that new gym bag and the talent packed inside it. It would be more likely for me to think that Hanamichi managed to snatch a seat in Tokyo University than to see your face among the spectators of tomorrow's practice." He winked at me and disappeared before I could ask another thing.
We had college algebra and English that afternoon. As there was a fine line between failing and passing college subjects, I devoted myself to studying more than I did in high school. Whether I would be good enough or still short of the passing mark, I didn't care. For my part, at least I tried, and that alone rendered my hard work worth noting. And in a very broad sense, it would just make me learn more about life. Like, education is for fools who think that knowledge is the key to life, for people who were given no other choice but to bury their heads in books rather than be out there and have their shots.
The practice took place at 7pm the next day, just as Mitsui said. I entered the gym silently as everyone turned to see who had just arrived. Excited whispers fluttered over me.
"Ah, here he is." Mitsui announced loudly, as if something like that was necessary. He welcomed me with warmth similar to that which went with being introduced to the mayor. I was expecting something like "Talk of the devil" from him.
He had indeed changed a lot over two years. "Is this what college does to kids?" I asked myself. Even so, I wasn't at all disturbed by this behavior; on the contrary, I liked this Mitsui better. In time, he turned to his teammates,
"This, my friends and teammates, is Rukawa Kaede, the Rukawa Kaede." Mitsui said, stressing the word 'the', to which every team member nodded in acknowledgement. He introduced the team members and I had to nod back at each of them with every mentioned name.
I prayed that this awkward moment would just evaporate immediately. Thankfully enough, Mitsui saved the moment,
"Shall we practice then?" He asked. Oddly though, it sounded more like he was asking me to dance because he held his hand to help me with my gym bag and schoolbag.
Practice wasn't bad at all, I had to admit. It came to pass in my mind that college guys played much better than high school kids in a very vast extent. They moved with impressive fluidity and speed, the sort which made me feel like I was one of the team's reserves at first. Well, being the pompous prick that I was, I wasn't about to allow that. As ostensive as I could, I played with the limits of my breath so that, by the time the game ended, everyone was ogling at me like an idiot, except Mitsui.
He said goodbye to everyone while I was still fixing my things. I thought it was a collective expression of farewell meant for all the members of the team but as he passed me by,
"You did well tonight. I mean, you're like a new part of this team that 'upgrades' everyone's performance. I'm so glad you joined the team; no, I'm so glad you entered this school." He tapped me on the shoulder and gripped it tightly for a second, and finally turned to leave.
I would go to practice thrice a week and would always find Mitsui waiting for me outside my classroom.
It was, as you might imagine, an odd feeling to walk silently down the corridors with him. Also, knowing he would take two extra flights of stairs just to make sure I'd attend practice, I was given a feeling I never normally would have entertained. Or was he just doing it to spend a few minutes with me? I didn't know.
The last practice of the week was no more than basic training. No other freshman made it to the team, as I had heard. But those who tried out and failed would probably feel satisfied if they were watching us right then and there passing the bored ball to one another.
The end of practice, however, didn't offer me relief. Mitsui left the gym hurriedly. As I watched him leave the gym skipping his steps to join a girl at the doors, my heart sank. He used to say goodbye to me privately and would praise my game more cheerfully than necessary but, that night, he just said a single 'goodbye' loudly, and that was for all of his teammates. All those weeks I didn't know he was dating someone else, and wished I hadn't known.
I made my way to my apartment, feeling like a walking blender mixing strange concoctions of different liquors. Three weeks had passed since I joined the team. In line with that, it had been two weeks since I started making excuses not to see Hanamichi, whereby nothing of this sort would have transpired had I been not so confused by Mitsui-sempai.
Way down inside, I never truly accepted the reasons I had for such actions. On the contrary, I convinced myself I was doing such things for no grave reason.
I was, in point of fact, falling for Mitsui and was hoping to cut ties with Hanamichi. It was as easy as saying it to his face if self-respect was of no consequence to this world whatsoever. But besides that task, there was the fact which simply suggested Mitsui would never be mine. From what I gathered, he had transformed into a real gentleman, who was receiving good grades and dating women. Thus, what could I give him that would even make him more of a man than he already was?
In some other lifetime, he could wait for me outside my classroom before practice sessions and be the marvel that he was without raising any special thoughts from me. But the reality was, he would sit with me during lunch and tell me jokes I could've openly laughed with if it wouldn't seem odd to him that Rukawa Kaede was actually laughing out loudly; he would tap my back or put an arm around my shoulder whenever I made a good shot, an intimate contact that he never shared with other teammates; he would say goodbye to me personally, even privately, after every practice; and above all, he would decently smile every time our eyes met; he would ask me to sit beside him or save me a seat during meetings and would give me a clearer version of the captain's strategy afterwards. With the way things actually were, his enthusiasm whenever I was around often left me ecstatic, if not confused.
TBC
