It has been fifteen days since I left my life behind me, and to my credit, I have managed to get myself a job. Nothing particularly impressive, mind you. When I was with the law firm, myself and a few of the other employees would occasionally get drinks at a small Izakaya bar in Minato called 'Uoshin Nogizaka'. The owner recognised me when I handed in my ludicrously overqualified resume, and I have my first shift on Sunday evening. When I was interviewed, the assistant manager asked me if, based on my employment history, this kind of job would feel demeaning. At the time, I didn't particularly understand the question, but even now, I don't think of it as demeaning in the slightest. The fact of the matter is, the life I built for myself is gone. I spent over fifteen years as one of the top property lawyers in Japan, and in two months I had lost my job, my wife, my family, and my home. The life I had built for myself is what allowed me to maintain all those things that should, by rights, have been important to me, and it seems insulting to the man I was to think that I could go back into law. With this in mind, there is nothing about the idea of pouring drinks for strangers that I find demeaning. I am not deluded enough to see the crashing and burning of my life as an opportunity for rebirth, but it is certainly a new beginning of sorts. I must scrabble about in the wreckage of the life I have lost, and painstakingly build a new, brick by boring brick.

I am, for now, still spending my days at the hotel. I have a small amount of savings, and I certainly get a healthy enough discount on my room to justify remaining here over seeking to rent (I did, after all, help the owner of this particular chain keep the property through three different legal disputes). I found that once I had mustered up the willpower to start typing the next sentence of my resume, the rest flowed like water, and I was able to get out of the door just two days after I saw Kuroko playing basketball outside my room. I started applying for jobs.

I don't know for certain if seeing Kuroko that day somehow inspired me to get off my arse and take some sort of control over my life, but I can't deny that my heart beat a little bit faster while watching him play. I don't recall ever particularly missing basketball in the years since I quit, but I imagine that when you sink as many hours into something as I did, it's natural to retain some form of love for the thing you cared most about, even when you cease to care about it anymore. It seems stupid to only realise this now, but I spent so long telling myself that I didn't miss the slap of the ball on the hardwood, that I willed myself to forget that every morning for almost a decade, I would wake up, shower, and meticulously tape every finger on my left hand so that my shooting form would be consistent. I had repressed the memories of staying hours after practice every day to endlessly shoot three-pointers until the janitor came to cut the lights off. And Takao... six days out of the week, Takao would be with me. The irritating but constant voice in my ear during classes, and my constant training companion. Even now, I remember the subtle, comforting sting of the ball slapping my hand with every pass I caught from him – hundreds of thousands of passes – either in training, during pick-up games, or in official matches – all invariably leading to a score.

I realise now that I neglected to allow myself to miss him.

In truth, I have neglected to allow myself to miss anything. And yet... I do.

I am ready for work. Uoshin Nogizaka does not require employees to wear any uniform beyond a black top, and as it is forecast to be a cold night, I have gone with a black turtleneck that I used to wear on dates with Fujiko. I have thoroughly showered, my mobile phone is fully charged, I have a store-bought bento and a bottle of water on my bedside table, ready to go in my bicycle panniers. My glasses are freshly cleaned, and I have even filed and buffed my nails.

I am not intimidated by the prospect of such a menial job, but even so, it is nice to feel as prepared as possible. I do not need to leave for at least another half an hour, and my evening feels like it has purpose. And yet, something is amiss, and I cannot place what. Somehow, despite my preparations, my studying of the Izakaya's menu, and my memorisation of my cycle route, I have not done everything humanely possible to prepare for my first shift. And it is with an exasperated chuckle that I realise what it is, reaching for my phone with a resigned sigh.

If I am to venture from the protective bubble of the hotel, I suppose I could do worse than to know how the evening's endeavours will turn out.

The Oha Aso Horoscope app has updated itself since I last opened it, and I am not a fan of the new layout. Nonetheless, I check my fortune. I am ranked third today, which is more than acceptable for a first day of work, and today's lucky item is a fountain pen. Fortunately, I brought my Parker pen with me to the hotel, so it's easy to take this with me. Anything larger, and I probably wouldn't have bothered.

"Cancer:Today is a day for thinking fondly of old friends, and for courageously seeking out new experiences. Follow your first thought, andallow good things to happen to you."

Generic, yes, but undeniably positive. On a whim, I move the app to the first visible page on my phone, and check the time. I still have twenty-five minutes before I have to leave for work.

Before I leave, I tape my fingers. I may as well do everything humanly possible, after all.

My first shift is entirely unremarkable, but nothing to complain about. The other staff members on shift are young and perfectly pleasant, even if my supervisor does look somewhat awkward at the prospect of managing somebody a decade older than him. His name is Benjiro, and once he's got over having to teach a respected ex-lawyer how to pour a pint, he reveals himself to be a friendly, observant young man with a knack for charming even the most disgruntled customer. He's dressed slightly more casually than the rest of the staff – his jeans have a fashionable rip at the knee, and while his T-shirt is smart, the Jordan logo on the hem is definitely not what I'd expect from a professional.

He and I work the bar, while the rest of the team wait tables, and once the initial rush of men ordering pints is over, he starts to take me through the cocktail menu.

"You're picking this up really quickly, Midorima-senpai. Thank you for working so hard."

I'm surprised by the honorific, as he hasn't spoken to any of the other staff so formally – a fact I assumed to be because most people his age have largely stopped using honorifics in the workplace.

"I have always been a fast learner, Benjiro-senpai, especially with a teacher as enthusiastic as you."

I am not sure if I imagine his blush, but he chuckles. I grab a cloth and begin wiping the bar down, now that there are no customers queuing.

"Why do you call me senpai? It's only my first day."

Benjiro laughs, and it's a pleasant sound. He does, unlike the rest of the staff, seem genuinely happy to work here.

"Forgive me, I'm not usually one for that kind of formality, but... well, you're older, and I guess I just remembered where I recognise you from."

"Oh? Where is that?"

He smiles at me, our conversation is momentarily paused by the beeping of the glass-washer, which he begins to unload, carefully drying and polishing each glass.

"I... You used to play basketball, right? For Shutoku High? My dad used to take me to the high-school games when I was a kid, and... well, I was a little bit obsessed."

I am not offended, but I didn't expect to feel this old in my mid-thirties.

"That was long time ago, but you are correct."

He seems to have lost his earlier awkwardness, and begins to chat excitedly to me as we clean and organise the bar.

"I went to so many games I lost count, but I used to go home and recreate the plays with magnets on a whiteboard, and I'd always think I was making stuff up when I'd end up with your magnet at half-court at the end of the play."

It's a little uncomfortable hearing him talk so excitedly about my high-school basketball team, but I can tell he means well, so I humour him.

"That is an impressive memory, especially for a kid. Did you have a favourite team?"

Benjiro shrugs with a grin.

"Not really... My eldest cousin was a bench-player for Seiho, so I'd always cheer for them, but I probably enjoyed the Kaijo matches the most."

I chuckle at the memories of hard-fought matches and even-harder fought arguments with their infuriatingly flashy ace.

"They were a good team... A truly bizarre group of kids, but they worked hard."

"Kasamatsu-senpai used to wave at me from the court – I guess I watched them so many times he started to recognise me. Did you know him?"

"Not well. But I played against him a few times, and he was impressive... A good leader, and..."

My next thought surprises me, as even in school I was never one for this kind of conversation. I guess Benjiro's unabashed enthusiasm is beginning to rub off on me.

"He was probably one of the top five point-guards I ever played against."

Benjiro's grin tells me that I may have opened up a metaphorical can-of-worms, but he looks happy to say the least.

"Really? Is it really lame if I ask you your top five?"

"It was so long ago that I would struggle to put one together... But I rate Takao from my own team as the best point guard of that High-School period."

"Not Rakuzan's Akashi?"

I chuckle darkly.

"He would certainly be the obvious choice. Akashi was certainly the perfect point guard, and maybe even the best high-school point guard to ever play... but I would still choose Takao. I'd imagine that you created more than a few top five lists back in the day. Care to share?"

He doesn't even pause to take a breath.

"Akashi Seijuro of Rakuzan, Yukio Kasamatsu of Kaijo, Izuki Shun of Serin, Ryuhei Kasuga of Seiho, and Fukui Kensuke of Yosen... In that order."

Takao never was the flashiest or most attention-grabbing point guard, but his omission surprises me. I guess, like many great point guards, one has to play with them, rather than against them, to recognise their greatness. I nod my appreciation of Benjiro's list, and continue cleaning.

"Midorima-senpai... do you still play basketball?"

I shake my head, not looking at him.

"I have not played basketball in... well, over a decade, I'm afraid. Career ambition and the nuclear family left me with very little time. I have a regular gym that I attend, to keep in shape, but... Basketball is no longer a part of my life."

Benjiro smiles sadly at me.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I was never particularly good, but I just love it so much. My girlfriend plays shooting guard for an amateur girls' team, and we'll often shoot around before my shifts at one of the local courts. If you wanted, you'd be very welcome to play with us."

The offer is a kind one. I would be lying if I said that I hadn't thought about picking up a basketball again, but the urge never lasts particularly long. I guess I thought that drawing a line under that part of my life was for the best, but if I'm honest, I was probably just scared to try again. When I played, I held myself to a higher standard than almost any other player I've met, maintaining my level of skill through meticulous care, endless hours of practice, always doing everything humanly possible to ensure that I never missed a shot. Over a decade has passed, and my fear is that,were I to get on the court again, the shock of how far I have fallen would be too much for me to bear. To take a shot after so long, and so have it miss... my pride would never have allowed it. To have worked so hard, and then to start once again from the very beginning... the thought is repulsive to me.

"No pressure or anything, but... Well, forgive me, but it seems to me that you're at a little bit of a crossroads in your life, Midorima-senpai, and... well, I find happiness in doing something that I love, and if you love basketball as much as you did... I struggle to believe that ever goes away."

He's persistent, I will give him that. His love for the game is clear and infectious... and I could do worse than to strike up a good rapport with a senior employee on my first day.

"I... I will certainly give it some thought, Benjiro. And please, if you must use honorifics... Midorima-san will do just fine."

According to Benjiro, Sundays at Uoshin Nogizaka are often this peaceful, characterised by a healthy number of regulars, but not very many people out on the town (the other local Izakaya offer a two-for-one deal on Sunday nights that attracts most of the nightlife). Benjiro points these regulars out to me as and when they order, introducing me with a smile and walking me through how they like their drinks. One such regular, a friendly and obviously well-educated older man named Sanji, pegs me as a smoker and asks if he can cadge a cigarette, prompting my first break of the night (Benjiro sends me outside with him, on the basis that building a good relationship with the customers is key to the job). As we smoke, Sanji talks excitedly to me about ancient Chinese history, of all things, and reveals himself to be a retired professor of the subject. While we smoke, he introduces me to his friends, who always join him on a Sunday night, and they all welcome me and offer to buy me drinks, which I decline. Sanji, not to be dissuaded, speaks to Benjiro as we go back inside, and makes him promise to pour me a glass of something after the shift. This job is far below anything I thought I would enjoy doing, but I get the feeling that I may even enjoy it here.

Benjiro talks to me predominantly about basketball, with the passion of somebody overjoyed to find a common interest with somebody. I discover that he is a lifelong Alvark Tokyo fan, and has attended every game that he can since Kagami Taiga signed with the team upon his return to Japan. When he discovers that I haven't followed basketball in a long time, he explains to me that after three seasons with the Chicago Bulls (including two conference finals appearances), an ACL injury had resulted in Kagami being released from his contract, and he has returned to Japan to recover. As soon as he was fit, Alvark Tokyo snapped him up on a max-contract, and since then, the team has enjoyed a great deal of success, as well as prompting a new and exciting level of competition within Japanese basketball. Benjiro is particularly excited for a big game at the end of next week which pits Alvark Tokyo against their frequent finals rival SeaHorses Mikawa, and their very familiar ace, Aomine Daiki.

Surprisingly, it brings a smile to my face to hear that all these boys that I played with, and against, in my youth have reached such a high level playing the game they love, and hearing about Aomine's work ethic and leadership qualities is really quite heart-warming. Being labelled as the Generation of Miracles at such a young age could so easily have destroyed us, and while I did choose to walk away from the game, something happened in those three years of high school that lit a fire under all of our feet. And if I'm honest, I can, without much imagination whatsoever, credit this fire to the emergence of the Serin High basketball team – and the shadow and light that was Kuroko Testuya and Kagami Taiga.

In all aspects of life, there are some relationships that are thrown into your path that fundamentally change you. Nowhere was this more evident than with Aomine and Murasakibara. I remember the last year of our time together at Teiko, and how some days it would only be myself and Akashi from the first team who would show up to practice. And yet after losing to Serin, both Aomine and Murasakibara began to practice religiously, and the results were staggering. Kagami's gift for aggravating players into intense rivalry brought out some truly incredible games from both Touou and Yosen in every tournament since that fateful Winter Cup. Both Aomine and Murasakibara were given the captaincy of their respective teams in their third year, and at the end of it all, Murasakibara got drafted into the NBA along with Kagami, and Aomine had ensured in his very first season in the Japanese B. League that his team would appear in every single Playoff finals of his career so far.

It is with no small pang of regret that I think that, had things been different, I could have followed a similar path. I was certainly good enough. There has never been a shooter like me in the history of Japanese basketball, and had life worked out differently, there is no reason why I couldn't be playing at the same level.

No reason at all, except for the simply fact that, sometime during my University career, I lost my love for the game entirely. I told myself then that whatever happened, I would never allow myself to regret my decision.

And yet, even after all these years, and even though I know that there is no way back...

I do.

(Author's Note: A slightly shorter chapter this time, and very little here by way of plot, but it feels right. Benjiro was only supposed to make a fleeting appearance, but I liked him so much that he kindatook over the chapter a little bit. However little action happened in this chapter, I'm just glad we got Midorimaout of the house for a bit. Bless him.

If you like what you read here, please do let me know – I always reply to reviews, and any and allsuggestions are incredibly welcome. I hope to see you here for the next chapter.

Keep living,

melodramaticglassescharacter)