Only
Disclaimer: Much as I'd
like to, I don't own Slam Dunk.
Two
Somewhere in the north of the
Kanagawa district, someone else was also sleeping. The difference was, no one
bothered to wake him, like Sendoh had been by his classmate. Or rather, nobody
dared. Not even the agitated, bespectacled old man in the front of the
classroom. Oops, there goes another piece of chalk with a
snap.
Fortunately, the bell rang at this point. As chattering, giggling
students quickly gathered their things and fled the desks, someone slumped over
in his seat at the very back of the classroom began to stir himself. Very
slowly.
Slender fingers grasped the doorknob and let their owner out of
the stifling room. With a yawn, the tall boy lazily sauntered the distance to
the indoor basketball court, empty hands shoved deep in his pockets. He never
brought anything to class anyway; he'd never use it. Lesson time was for
sleeping, to build up energy for training and playing basketball.
The
same fingers quickly exchanged shirt and trousers for a tank top and shorts upon
arriving in the locker room. Laces on the Air Jordan shoes he was so proud of
were firmly knotted. One hand reached to push open the door to the court while
the other absently pushed raven bangs out of his face momentarily, only to have
them fall back over his eyes.
Mop. Clean, clean, clean. A scowl at a
person in the way, a muttered "do'ahou" as Sakuragi chose to wave his mop around
while making loud declarations, further testifying to his obvious lack of simple
intelligence.
Soon enough, the team was told to gather. Jogging around
the court, lay-up lines, practice matches against respective teams. He did
everything like he always did, every other day of this life. With the silent,
fierce determination that was Rukawa Kaede. Whose goal was to be the best
basketball player, not just in Kanagawa, but in the whole of Japan.
To
him, there was only one thing standing in the way of that, right
now.
Sendoh Akira. I'll beat you yet. I'll beat you today. Every day, I'm
getting better... you said so yourself, just yesterday. I finally got you to
admit that I'm improving, while we were resting against a bench watching a group
of kids take each other on after our last one-on-one.
He frowned, then.
Sendoh had given him a strange look as he'd complimented him. Almost apologetic,
or sad.
Ch'. Probably realising that I can be better. That I /am/ better.
I didn't make basketball my life for nothing.
His train of thought was
broken as a whistle blew. Practice was over. Now he could go take a quick
shower, grab his bike, and meet Sendoh at what Rukawa had come to think of as
/their/ court. And today, he was going to win.
Somewhere in the southern
part of Kanagawa, that very player was slowly towelling his dripping hair dry.
Grinning, he reached for his comb and gel, restoring his cheery spiked image
before the large mirror in the Ryonan showers. At a shake of the head and a
chuckle from Koshino, Sendoh merely winked and widened his
smile.
Shohoku's probably done with their training too. So he's probably
on his way right now to meet me. And he'll be too focused on basketball to
remember to eat. I know him. Maybe today, he will finally agree to let me take
him out for dinner. Must remember not to get distracted by him today, he's
really getting better. More graceful, more accurate. And those
eyes...
Another laugh from Koshino at the vanity of Ryonan's ace shook
Sendoh awake from his confused thoughts. Comb, gel, and basketball were rapidly
shoved into the same bag, and the bag itself heaved onto broad shoulders in the
same breath as Sendoh exited, to smiles and waves from his teammates. He flashed
them all another beam; then large strides took him gradually closer to his
destination. Their court.
Two schools, one district. Two teams, one
sport. Two aces, one game.
Two people. Different
thoughts.