A/N: Thanks for the review, JP.
Chapter 7
Their recent victory over Shohoku made the Ryonan team practice with greater vim than usual. They had shown that they were still in contention for the strongest team in Kanagawa, and their confidence in themselves was appropriately bolstered. Even the benchwarmers put in more effort than usual. In short, it was the kind of practice that everybody liked—even under the iron fist of Coach Taoka.
Coach Taoka sat quietly in his chair on one side of the court. He was relieved. He experienced a brief pang of nostalgia for the days when beating Shohoku would have been seen as a matter of course, but it was time he accepted that times had changed. The balance of power had shifted. Shohoku was now the second-best team in Kanagawa, and it was Ryonan who were the underdogs—Ryonan who had to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and begin their battle anew.
He smiled as he watched Sendoh preside over this afternoon's training. Sendoh had never been the type to be satisfied with victory—to be satisfied with being at the top. It was the struggle he most enjoyed. That was a quality that made him not just a great sportsman, but the ideal person to lead Ryonan to victory in the Winter Tournament and beyond.
"Sugadaira, Koshino," Sendoh called out, clearing one side of the court and making the freshman practice their shooting on the other. "We're going to practice defending the basket. I don't need to teach you the basics, of course." Sendoh laughed. "You are, after all, Ryonan's center. But a little practice never hurt anybody. Koshino's going to come at you, and you're going to stop him from scoring. I'll pass the ball to Koshino."
He picked up a ball from the large bin.
"By the way," he said to Koshino in a low voice. "I spoke to you-know-who today after the game."
Koshino raised an eyebrow.
"Rukawa? Oh! You mean you-know-who. Did she laugh you out of the room?"
Sendoh bit his lip.
"No," he said. He spoke slowly, as if analyzing his words carefully, lest it turn out that he had seriously misapprehended the way things stood between him and Ayako. "She was great. Easygoing. Easy to talk to. I could have sworn she felt something for me."
"Well," said Koshino. He sallied forth and attempted to lay the ball into the basket. Sugadaira hit it out of his hands. Koshino returned for another ball. "It would seem you're a step closer to your goal."
"I certainly hope so."
"But you know what they say," said Koshino. He sallied forth once again and essayed a jump shot from the center of the key. Sugadaira wasn't able to block it this time. "One step closer to infinity is as good as none."
"What are you going on about?"
"You know. From math. Ayako's infinity, and you're Akira Sendoh: genius basketball player and all that, but alas, a guy who can only take a finite number of steps. The long and short of it is that she will always be beyond your reach." The ball hit Koshino's foot as he absently bounced it, and rolled off to a distant corner. "Ah, fuck it." Sendoh tossed him another. "What I'm trying to say is that Ayako and you being together just doesn't seem like a possibility. Some would call it a pipe dream. At least while the two of you are still in high school."
"Nonsense," said Sendoh pleasantly as Koshino attempted another jump shot from the same spot. Sugadaira missed again, but Koshino's shot bounced off the rim. "You should have seen her. She was talking about the time I bumped into her at the festival last year, and you didn't have to be a mind reader to tell that she was thinking pleasant thoughts about me."
"So what is it?" Koshino stopped dribbling and stood holding the basketball under his arm. "Did she actually say she liked you? In so many words?"
Sendoh's smile faltered a little.
"N-no," he admitted. "For all I know, she may have been about to, but Miyagi interrupted us."
"Ah, you see." Koshino jabbed a finger in Sendoh's chest and smirked triumphantly. "There's your problem right there. Ryota Miyagi, captain of the Shohoku basketball team. Also someone who's had a one-sided love for Ayako for only—a year." Spoken with a sarcastic lilt. "From what I hear he's quite the fighter, too. If he ever got wind of the fact that you were chasing after the love of his life, your problems might get a little bit bigger than him not going easy on you in the tournament."
"H'm." Sendoh hated to admit that Koshino might be right. Why couldn't Miyagi have set his eyes on a different girl? Why did it have to be Ayako?
"And before you start accusing Miyagi of getting in your way, remember that he's the one who goes to the same school as her. I don't know, Sendoh, but it looks like you're the bad guy here."
Sendoh was not used to being thought of as the bad guy. The realization hit him hard—like a basketball to the stomach. He realized that he didn't have any business putting his own feelings above what was right. The right course of action in this case was clear. He had to avoid at all costs the hundred-year blood feud that could break out between Shohoku and Ryonan, if their captains started fighting over the same girl. Unless… unless he somehow found a way to keep it quiet—to keep it hush-hush, as it were. What you don't know can't hurt you.
Or can it? He had visions of himself walking down the street with Ayako on his arm and looking over his shoulder; of having a drink with Ayako and looking over his shoulder; of walking down the aisle with Ayako in a little basement room with only Koshino (and for some reason Rukawa) in the audience and still looking over his shoulder. You couldn't live the rest of your life in a constant state of fear—the fear that Ryota Miyagi might climb in through the window in the middle of the night and strangle you in your sleep. Or that he might turn into some kind of deranged zombie stalker and torment you for the rest of your life. That was no way to live.
"Uh, Sendoh?"
Koshino and Sugadaira stood staring at their captain, who seemed to have frozen with the basketball in his hands.
"I'm going to ask the Coach if I can leave early today," said Sendoh, passing the ball to Koshino with a noticeable lack of energy. "I'm not feeling so well."
A cursory examination of reality had been enough to dampen his spirits.
Friday, 6 AM.
Shortly after the practice game, Sendoh had taken to going on morning jogs down the beach with Rukawa every morning and then heading over to the basketball court afterwards to play a few rounds of one-on-one with him—all before school. He didn't know exactly how it had started, except that both of them seemed to have independently come up with the idea of training with each other on a semi-regular basis, in the higher interest of improving their basketball skills. No harm, right? If you can't beat them, join them. In any case, it was doubtful whether they would be able to keep this up very long, since theirs was a nature that demanded a certain amount of sleep in order to function in top form, and they were both exceedingly fond of sleeping in—especially on weekdays; but they would make the most of it while it lasted.
"I don't think you ever told me," Sendoh began as they reached the end of the sandy stretch of the beach, where the land rose into a steep cliff on one side and disappeared into the sea in forbidding crags on the other. Sendoh wondered idly whether the fish in these parts were any good as he paused to recover his breath, hands on his knees for support.
Rukawa took a draught from his water bottle and looked quizzically at Sendoh.
"Why were you late to the practice game?" Sendoh finished.
Rukawa raised an eyebrow.
"I overslept," he said simply.
Sendoh remembered that he himself had been late to their last practice game in the spring, and his excuse had been exactly that. He wondered whether this strange new symmetry meant anything. The more he looked at the younger ace, the more he saw himself in him.
"I noticed you weren't beating on your teammates," said Rukawa. He sounded vaguely disappointed.
Sendoh laughed sheepishly.
A large wave came crashing down onto the shore at that point, soaking their shoes in its far-reaching surf. Sendoh cursed and looked up to see a man walk out of the sea like a sea god.
It was Maki.
"Maki-san!"
"Fancy seeing you here, Sendoh, Rukawa." Maki strode up to them with a large surfboard under his arm, grinning as only one who has surfed the high seas can grin. Whoever invented the term "washboard abs" doubtless had Maki in mind when he did so. "I saw you guys yesterday, too, but I wasn't able to get back on shore in time. I heard about the practice game." He nodded his congratulations to Sendoh.
Sendoh acknowledged him with a smile.
"The state you were in when you came to see me—I would have thought you'd woken up one fine morning and found that your basketball skills had inexplicably deserted you. Turns out you didn't really need my help. Miyagi on the other hand…" Maki whistled as he recalled his meeting with Miyagi a few weeks ago. "He looked just about ready to be locked away in a padded cell. I had to give him some of my prized books on leadership before he finally calmed down."
Rukawa blinked.
"It was you," he said. There was an accusatory edge to his voice that was the closest thing to indignation that he was willing to betray. "You gave the Captain that book."
Maki was slightly taken aback.
"Were the results not to your satisfaction?"
"Tch," said Rukawa. If only he knew.
"At any rate, it looks like you guys have got it all sorted out. We, on the other hand, have got a practice game against Shoyo on Monday. You're welcome to come and watch us two old-timer aces battle it out. Maybe you could learn a thing or two."
He grinned, about-faced, and headed back into the waves like someone who had unfinished business with the sea, before either Sendoh or Rukawa could say anything in response, or indeed, wrap their heads around this strange interlude.
"Did he just call himself an old-timer?" said Sendoh with some incredulity.
A large wave broke some distance into the sea, and Maki was gone.
"Both Kainan and Shoyo have got third-year players," said Rukawa at length.
Sendoh nodded.
"We're screwed."
Rukawa said nothing. He didn't really mind the challenge, though he had to admit that their glaring shortcomings in the department of centers might prove difficult to overcome, even for him. Not to mention the fact that that ass Sakuragi was practically a shortcoming in and of himself.
"It might not be such a bad idea to go and watch their game," Sendoh went on. "Just so we know what we're up against."
"One-on-one," said Rukawa. He had more immediate concerns.
"Excuse me."
"I'm sorry," Sendoh apologized sheepishly. He had been walking down the street toward a popular pho joint that he visited whenever he felt overwhelmed by the weight of the world, when he bumped into someone. "I'm really sorry. It's just the sun—it's shining right in my face, and I didn't see you there."
"Sendoh-kun!"
Sendoh recognized the voice, though it took him a moment to place the face behind the dark sunglasses.
"Ayako-san! Uh—I mean, Ayako!"
"Fancy bumping into you here." She took off her sunglasses and beamed.
"I… I was just—"
His ability to speak deserted him as he beheld Ayako. Somehow it had never occurred to him that she might sometimes let her hair down or ditch her baseball cap. Now he saw that off court she was really… quite something. Her wavy bangs framed her face perfectly and made her features look softer than they did on the court. Then you got to her eyes, which were strikingly sharp against the softness of her face. You wouldn't normally expect a girl like Ayako, who hung out primarily with the guys and managed a basketball team to boot, to have much patience for the niceties of everyday life; but here she was, looking stunning in her dark dress and heels, as if she were walking down a red carpet somewhere, or returning from a cocktail party with the people who ran this world. You wouldn't expect this Ayako to stop and talk to a high school basketball player who had the temerity to bump into her in the street, but she did.
He suddenly became conscious, looking down at his Ryonan basketball team tee-shirt and sweatpants, that he was way too underdressed to be talking to Ayako.
"I was just heading to What the Pho," said Ayako, idly tucking a stray bang behind her ear.
That was where Sendoh had been heading, too.
"So was I!"
A smile tugged at Ayako's lips. She suspected that Sendoh's response might have been the same if she had, for some reason, said she had been heading to McDonald's instead. She had originally intended to order takeout, but she was in no hurry to get back home.
Of course, Sendoh had been heading to What the Pho from the start, and took this to be a sign that the universe wanted the two of them to be together and was giving its blessing to the things to come. Why else would it randomly send Ayako his way on this poignant late-summer evening, when the appropriate thing to do for people who were in love was to eat pho all by themselves in silence and stare wistfully at the sunset over the sea?
They sat awkwardly across from each other inside the restaurant. Sendoh turned his soup spoon idly in his pho as he contemplated his next words. He wasn't sure if it was the hot pho or the late-summer heat or something else that caused him to feel so hot under the collar and made his forehead damp with sweat.
"So," he began awkwardly.
Ayako looked up.
It was the stuffiness of the restaurant, Sendoh decided, because Ayako seemed to be experiencing similar discomfort.
"Maki-san invited us to watch their practice game against Shoyo."
"Yes, Rukawa told me about that. I think it would be a good idea to go, just so we know what we're up against."
Exactly what he had said, Sendoh thought. Probably his own words, too, transmitted through Rukawa. Somehow they sounded better coming from Ayako. More self-assured, more…
"Shoyo might even fare better than they did in their game against us," Ayako went on. "I'm sure Fujima-san's going to be in the game from the start. If he hadn't sat most of the game out in the spring, I'm not sure we would have been able to beat them like we did."
Sendoh nodded in agreement. He wasn't sure that he shouldn't have said something more encouraging.
"How's Miyagi doing?" What a thing to ask, thought Sendoh, cursing himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Here they were, enjoying a quiet dinner away from the eyes of the Shohoku basketball captain, and he just had to go and drag him into it.
"He's all right. A bit annoyed, but defeat has always been a great motivator for us."
They finished the rest of their meal and headed out. Their conversation had been rather dispassionate, Sendoh realized with a pang, and he wasn't quite sure whether to call this a date.
"See you around," said Ayako with a wave and a pleasant smile.
Sendoh stared after her as she disappeared into the crowd.
Yes, he would see her around, wouldn't he? he thought, brightening.
tbc.
A/N: There wasn't a whole lot of content in this chapter, I guess. Except a first date of sorts, plans for another game in the near future - things of that nature. Looks like I'm going to be forced to take a hiatus and think about where I want this story to go.
Also, I didn't come up with the name of the restaurant.
