Sakuragi
Silence ensued.
We just stood there, staring at each other. The Kitsune, for once, displayed an emotion on his face: shock, and perhaps a slight hint of satisfaction on his face.
Then it hit me.
K'so! Why did I have to ask the stupid Kitsune for help? I berated myself silently for not thinking twice before I spoke.
Knowing that I could not retract my earlier statement, and not knowing what to do otherwise, I walked away from him quickly.
He responded to my action by saying softly but distinctly enough,'Naga Park, 7am tomorrow.'
I pretended I didn't hear what he said to save my deflated ego and walked even faster, leaving the solitary figure standing where I had left him.
*****
When I reached home, I settled my weary body into my soft, inviting bed after changing into my pyjamas. Although my stomach was protesting vehemently, producing occasional growls, I chose to ignore it. After all, I was way too tired to even bother to walk to the fridge to get myself a glass of milk.
I expected sleep to come almost instantaneously, as it usually did when I was physically exhausted.
It didn't.
I tossed and turned and tried every possible sleeping position.
I didn't feel more comfortable. In fact, I felt HOT.
A lone mosquito buzzed around me, adding to my increasing irritation. But I ignored it anyway, choosing instead to concentrate on sleeping.
This is insanity. It's midautumn, there still a stupid mosquito buzzing around me and I JUST HAD TO ASK THE KITSUNE TO COACH ME!
I couldn't stand it anymore. I hopped out of bed and positioned my head and aimed it... at the wall.
I thrust my head forward and closed my eyes as I anticipated the contact between my forehead and the wall.
My skull absorbed the shock, which reverberated in waves throughout my body. I wondered how many brain cells I just killed.
Wow, I thought, just before I blacked out, the wall headbutted me.
***** I awoke the next morning on the floor. I rubbed the tender spot on my forehead. Yeah, it was a small price to pay for a good night's rest. I cringed as I got up. But then again, maybe not such a small price. I was aching everywhere due to the awkward position I had been sleeping in the whole night. On the floor.
I heard my joints make that familiar cracking sound that reminded me of the sound my knuckles made when I cracked them.
The windows were open, and the pale curtains fluttered as a gentle breeze blew a lone maple leaf into the room.
I picked the leaf up. Maple. Kaede.
DAMNIT! I suddenly remembered. Somehow I had suffered temporary amnesia after the wall had headbutted me! Glancing at the digital clock on my bedside table, I realised that I had only 10 minutes to get ready and reach Naga Park.
Should I go?
Yes, an inner voice persuaded me. You want to learn his moves; you want to be as good as him.
No, another voice growled. You are the Tensai. Tensais don't get taught by Kitsunes.
My aspirations versus my pride. Which was more important to me?
After an eternal internal struggle that lasted more than a minute, I finally made the decision that would change my life. I cast aside my already shattered pride and changed into a pair of well-worn jeans and a white T-shirt. I stuffed a towel, a bottle of water and my precious basketball into my gym bag and slipped into the shoes I loved for basketball, Haruko, and Shohoku High.
*****
I stepped into the basketball court in Naga Park. No Kitsune. I scanned my surroundings. The Kitsune was nowhere in sight.
Mmm, I thought. Perhaps he overslept. I gingerly took my prized basketball out of my bag and started attempting some under-basket shots.
The same sinking feeling returned to me as my ego deflated like a burst balloon with every failed shot.
I felt like crying. Why was I such a failure?
Just when I was beginning to immerse myself in self-pity, I heard a loud crash. Then, a muttered, 'Itai.'
I turned around expectantly and my eyes met with those of the Kitsune's. He had fallen off his bike.
'Oy, Kitsune. You're 10 minutes late.'
'Hn.'
He reached into his own gym bag and brought out his own basketball, which was, unlike mine, well used. Yet, he still held it lovingly and caressed its rough surface with an air of tenderness I had never seen in him before.
Then his expression hardened into that familiar cold, determined mask as he walked towards the net, palming the ball as he did so.
He looked at me to ensure I was watching him, then positioned his arms slowly and executed a perfect shot.
Then he nodded at me and said, 'Try.'
Not wanting to lose out to him, I replayed his shot in my mind repeatedly with my eyes closed.
When I was sure that I could carry out a shot like his, I walked confidently towards the hoop, mimicked his posture and shot the ball upwards in an arc.
Time ceased to flow for me as I watched the ball lose its fight against gravity.
Falling.
Falling towards the hoop.
And bounced off the rim.
I was devastated; my fragile ego shattered into a million smithereens.
All my hopes. lost on a failed shot.
Confidence left me and doubt taunted my pride.
A failed shot that crushed what remained of my ego. The last straw that broke the camel's back.
I cried.
Tears flowing uncontrollably down my cheeks. Unashamed, uncontrolled sobs.
My prized basketball, from my Guntai, lying forlornly in a pile of dry autumn leaves.
My soul, lost among the infinite stars, there but not quite.
A comforting hand on my back. The rope that saved me form the depths of the ravine of depression.
A friend.
A/n: hey pple. Notice my chapters are getting longer, yah? I hope you understand whats going on here. I think im being influenced by what we learn in lit at school so im writing in a new funny 'language'. =P haha. Anyway, hope you all have been enjoying my story so far, and do give me feedback and constructive criticism. I dun really mind flames, but juz dun flame me too much. =) kiez. Gtg now. Ja!
Silence ensued.
We just stood there, staring at each other. The Kitsune, for once, displayed an emotion on his face: shock, and perhaps a slight hint of satisfaction on his face.
Then it hit me.
K'so! Why did I have to ask the stupid Kitsune for help? I berated myself silently for not thinking twice before I spoke.
Knowing that I could not retract my earlier statement, and not knowing what to do otherwise, I walked away from him quickly.
He responded to my action by saying softly but distinctly enough,'Naga Park, 7am tomorrow.'
I pretended I didn't hear what he said to save my deflated ego and walked even faster, leaving the solitary figure standing where I had left him.
*****
When I reached home, I settled my weary body into my soft, inviting bed after changing into my pyjamas. Although my stomach was protesting vehemently, producing occasional growls, I chose to ignore it. After all, I was way too tired to even bother to walk to the fridge to get myself a glass of milk.
I expected sleep to come almost instantaneously, as it usually did when I was physically exhausted.
It didn't.
I tossed and turned and tried every possible sleeping position.
I didn't feel more comfortable. In fact, I felt HOT.
A lone mosquito buzzed around me, adding to my increasing irritation. But I ignored it anyway, choosing instead to concentrate on sleeping.
This is insanity. It's midautumn, there still a stupid mosquito buzzing around me and I JUST HAD TO ASK THE KITSUNE TO COACH ME!
I couldn't stand it anymore. I hopped out of bed and positioned my head and aimed it... at the wall.
I thrust my head forward and closed my eyes as I anticipated the contact between my forehead and the wall.
My skull absorbed the shock, which reverberated in waves throughout my body. I wondered how many brain cells I just killed.
Wow, I thought, just before I blacked out, the wall headbutted me.
***** I awoke the next morning on the floor. I rubbed the tender spot on my forehead. Yeah, it was a small price to pay for a good night's rest. I cringed as I got up. But then again, maybe not such a small price. I was aching everywhere due to the awkward position I had been sleeping in the whole night. On the floor.
I heard my joints make that familiar cracking sound that reminded me of the sound my knuckles made when I cracked them.
The windows were open, and the pale curtains fluttered as a gentle breeze blew a lone maple leaf into the room.
I picked the leaf up. Maple. Kaede.
DAMNIT! I suddenly remembered. Somehow I had suffered temporary amnesia after the wall had headbutted me! Glancing at the digital clock on my bedside table, I realised that I had only 10 minutes to get ready and reach Naga Park.
Should I go?
Yes, an inner voice persuaded me. You want to learn his moves; you want to be as good as him.
No, another voice growled. You are the Tensai. Tensais don't get taught by Kitsunes.
My aspirations versus my pride. Which was more important to me?
After an eternal internal struggle that lasted more than a minute, I finally made the decision that would change my life. I cast aside my already shattered pride and changed into a pair of well-worn jeans and a white T-shirt. I stuffed a towel, a bottle of water and my precious basketball into my gym bag and slipped into the shoes I loved for basketball, Haruko, and Shohoku High.
*****
I stepped into the basketball court in Naga Park. No Kitsune. I scanned my surroundings. The Kitsune was nowhere in sight.
Mmm, I thought. Perhaps he overslept. I gingerly took my prized basketball out of my bag and started attempting some under-basket shots.
The same sinking feeling returned to me as my ego deflated like a burst balloon with every failed shot.
I felt like crying. Why was I such a failure?
Just when I was beginning to immerse myself in self-pity, I heard a loud crash. Then, a muttered, 'Itai.'
I turned around expectantly and my eyes met with those of the Kitsune's. He had fallen off his bike.
'Oy, Kitsune. You're 10 minutes late.'
'Hn.'
He reached into his own gym bag and brought out his own basketball, which was, unlike mine, well used. Yet, he still held it lovingly and caressed its rough surface with an air of tenderness I had never seen in him before.
Then his expression hardened into that familiar cold, determined mask as he walked towards the net, palming the ball as he did so.
He looked at me to ensure I was watching him, then positioned his arms slowly and executed a perfect shot.
Then he nodded at me and said, 'Try.'
Not wanting to lose out to him, I replayed his shot in my mind repeatedly with my eyes closed.
When I was sure that I could carry out a shot like his, I walked confidently towards the hoop, mimicked his posture and shot the ball upwards in an arc.
Time ceased to flow for me as I watched the ball lose its fight against gravity.
Falling.
Falling towards the hoop.
And bounced off the rim.
I was devastated; my fragile ego shattered into a million smithereens.
All my hopes. lost on a failed shot.
Confidence left me and doubt taunted my pride.
A failed shot that crushed what remained of my ego. The last straw that broke the camel's back.
I cried.
Tears flowing uncontrollably down my cheeks. Unashamed, uncontrolled sobs.
My prized basketball, from my Guntai, lying forlornly in a pile of dry autumn leaves.
My soul, lost among the infinite stars, there but not quite.
A comforting hand on my back. The rope that saved me form the depths of the ravine of depression.
A friend.
A/n: hey pple. Notice my chapters are getting longer, yah? I hope you understand whats going on here. I think im being influenced by what we learn in lit at school so im writing in a new funny 'language'. =P haha. Anyway, hope you all have been enjoying my story so far, and do give me feedback and constructive criticism. I dun really mind flames, but juz dun flame me too much. =) kiez. Gtg now. Ja!