This started out as a scene for a Hanagata/OC story I wanted to do. But I haven't come up with a viable story outline for it, and I'm kinda skeptical about making an OC fic. And since Hanagata would be coming out in a mini fic 'series' I'm planning on, I wanted to do a small fic on him as some sort of introduction. It's a plotless WAFF, but I hope it's passable.
Disclaimer: The characters of Slam Dunk belong to Inoue-sensei. Only the story concept and the female character's mine.
Archive: In my site, Poetry in Blue (poetryinblue.cjb.net), and in ffnet (www.fanfiction.net), fanfics.org (www.fanfics.org), Pinoy Fanfics, SDFic, and SDBC mailing lists. Archive with my permission, please...
There were no shouts of victory for the Shoyo basketball team this year, no celebrating in the middle of the playing court with their supporters. The team didn't seem to care that the crowd saw their tears, nor worry that others would think it as a sign of weakness. Instead, the young men carried their heads up high, eyes bright with flowing tears, as they left the basketball court quietly amidst the roaring audience. The applause didn't belong to them anymore, anyway.
As soon as they thought that the crowd didn't see did shoulders began to sag. The hall leading to their dugout didn't ring in jubilation, with only the slow dragging of feet being heard. The booming voices of the players last season were now reduced to paroxysms of sobs in a mixture of anger and frustration as their heads hung low. They all filed into their locker room without a word. Nobody stirred for some time, each ocupied in their own misery. Sobbing resumed in one corner, the sound being so contagious that some of his teammates joined in his sorrow.
It was the darkest day for their group. The Shoyo Basketball Team, the second-seed team that was expected to go head-to-head against Kainandai, ousted in their first outing. It was an unthinkable quandary that such a strong team would fall early in the tournament.
Everyone was startled by a loud bang on a locker door. Heads shot up to see one of their number, Hasegawa, whose face was contorted in anguish and grief.
"This game should have been ours!" he grated. "Ours!" He clenched his shaking fists tighter.
More sobs were heard. It was at this moment their young leader, Shoyo coach and captain, chose to stand up in their midst. His face still sheened with sweat and tears as he stood among them.
"Maybe you're right, Hasegawa," Fujima Kenji began. "But we mustn't be fools to think that we lost to a weak opponent. For as much I hate to admit it, Shohoku has become strong. I have been lax in my judgment that we can easily beat this unknown team. We should have been more vigilant. But we've learned." He swiped the tears with his arm, revealing eyes with ardent fire. "We've learned that we must never let our guard down." He directed his intent gaze to every face around him. "We are Shoyo. This is not the end, for we'll fight another day!"
Everybody was stunned at their captain's pronouncement, too dazed were they from the situation.
"We may have lost this bout, everyone," Fujima went on. "It happens to anyone. But not everyone reaches their goal when they didn't strive hard enough. This team has gone through a lot of hardships. I won't let all those times be in vain. Will you?"
The other players shouted their agreement, faces set with renewed determination. The traces of tears were still on their faces, wearing them like remnants of battle. Wtih their coach's rallying cry, the players found comfort in their leader's strong conviction for their team.
Except, perhaps, for one...
Hanagata Toru was still inconsolable. Why was he having a hard time believing Fujima this time? But he put up a brave face in front of his teammates. The tall cager bore through it all just to show his support to his captain and friend. Fujima's words seemed to have a positive effect on the others, it would be wise, in Hanagata's opinion, to say nothing if he wasn't going to offer any encouragements of his own. Not when it's all over...
They remained in the dugout just long enough to pick up their spirits and to shower and change. Hanagata opted to lag behind his teammates, letting the others go ahead in the shower room.
Nagano stared quizzically at the Shoyo center. "Not wrestling me for the showers this time?" he joked.
The effort wasn't lost on Hanagata. He looked up presently, wishing he could hide behind his glasses. "No, you go ahead," he said with a plastered grin.
His teammate returned it with a weary one. Nagano didn't say anything, but gave his shoulder an assuring squeeze before heading for the shower.
"Think nothing of it."
Fujima Kenji came over and sat beside him without a word, looking towards the door to the shower room. They remained there for some moments saying nothing to each other, which Hanagata appreciated. All has been said and done, and both have been together long enough to know when silence is better than a thousand words.
Hanagata chose to reply after a moment with a smirk. "Liar," he said, glancing about before throwing a towel at him. "You and I both know you're such a bad loser."
Fujima ducked in time. "I am not," he declared, then picked up the towel and retaliated.
"Whatever you say, Captain," he drawled tauntingly.
The shorter youth gave a brief lopsided grin, then turned serious. "It was a good game," he said. "I just never realized Shohoku would become such a powerful team all of a sudden."
"They surprised me, too," Hanagata admitted with a slow nod. "Specially those two rookies. That redhead has some potential. And he lands a mean elbow to boot," he added sourly, absently passing a finger on the bandage on his temple.
"But he's no match for Hanagata Toru," Fujima said airily, arms akimbo.
Hanagata couldn't help at but snicker at the sight. Kenji picked unexpected times to fool around. "Damn right," he said just as readily.
Fujima clapped a hand on the other's shoulder. "There you go," he said, giving a warm smile.
Some of their teammates chose that moment to come out from the showers, and gaped at their coach and vice-captain.
"You two sure are quick to rebound," Takano remarked as he headed for his locker.
"And you wonder why Shoyo is one of the best teams around," their power-forward, Hasegawa, said dryly. It seemed a little drenching lightened their mood somehow.
"Hora! Hora!" Fujima clapped his hands. "Get yourselves dressed and out of here! Practice starts again tomorrow!"
Everyone stared mutely at their coach, but nobody dared to question his decision.
After a pregnant pause, Fujima grinned slyly. "It's a joke, guys. Let's all take a week off. Now get out of here!" He smacked the nearest player on the bottom with a towel, as relieved laughter went around.
Hanagata wanted to throttle Fujima. "Don't ever pull that again, Fujima," he growled under his breath. "I feel numb all over!"
Both youths watched as their other teammates dressed quiet;ly. Only light banter passed between players. It was very unlike the time when they were defeated by Kainan. At least, then, they made their way through the Inter-High. This was a bigger blow; Shoyo will never even join the final four teams this year. Their last year.
One by one, the players took their leave until Hanagata and Fujima were the only ones left in the locker room, both still in their uniforms. They sat in silence for some minutes. Hanagata felt a pair of eyes on him. He glanced beside him, and realized Fujima was staring too long that he began to grow uneasy. "What?"
Fujima waved a dismissive hand in front of his face. "Sorry," he said distractedly. It's just that never saw you without your glasses."
Hanagata scowled at him. "Nonsense," he said. "Don't you see me when I clean my glasses?"
"That's different. This is the only time you played without them," Fujima explained, taking out his towel.
"It's not like I have any choice," Hanagata quipped, waving the ruined spectacles. He brought his feet up the bench and leaned back against the wall.
Fujima returned to his place beside Hanagata. "I really appreciate it you seeing this through," he admitted sincerely. "We wouldn't have gotten through somehowwithout you."
He merely responded with a half-hearted grin. Hanagata still felt greatly responsible for their loss. While Fujima played the role of bench strategist, it was Hanagata's responsibility to oversee the players in the hardcourt. When Shohoku started to get the upper hand, it meant he wasn't doing his job well. Then there was the sound of the ball bouncing off the rim mingling with the buzzer replaying in his mind. If that shot went in, things would have been different.
Fujima turned to face him. "Are you sure you're okay?"
In turn, Hanagata looked up slowly. "Are you?" he countered softly. They looked away and sighed almost simultaneously. Fujima shook his head with a humorless grin as he headed to the shower room.
"Aren't you going to get cleaned up?" Fujima's voice echoed from the showers as Hanagata heard a shower tap being turned on.
"I... just want to rest a bit," Hanagata called out, resting his head against the concrete wall. The pulsing pain just won't go away. It emanated from the covered wound to the rest of his head.
After for what seemed to be long minutes, Fujima emerged from the showers, a small towel on his head and a larger one about his waist. He went straight to his locker and took out a change of clothes.
"Can you believe it's already over for us?"
Fujima looked up sharply at Hanagata's remark, then turned his attention at tucking in his shirt. "Not for me," he said with conviction.
Hanaga half-expected a remark like that from him, which made his lips curl up slightly in amusement. But it was short-lived as his features sobered again at recalling. He inhaled deeply.
"Fujima," he began quietly, slowly. "There's something I want you to know." He watched the curiosity play in the other's features. It wasn't going to be easy... "I made an agreement with my parents, Fujima," he confessed. "Once I'm done with the Inter-Highs, it's all studies afterwards."
The Shoyo captain looked aghast. "You're quitting? Why?" Reproach lay beneath the surprised tone.
The taller player shrugged noncomittally."Not really," he explained. "I'll still stick around in practice. Help around with the freshmen, maybe. But I won't likely participate in the actual games. I need to lighten my load in the coming months."
He could have sworn it, but Fujima's shoulders drooped slightly. "How come I haven't been told?" he asked sternly, looking slightly hurt.
Hanagata sighed. This was the last thing he wanted. "You're actually the first to know," he told him. "It's about time that I take my life seriously, and start thinking about my future."
Fujima could only stare at him. "Are you positive about this?" he finally spoke.
If he said he wasn't sure, Fujima would do anything to dissuade him, of that he was sure of. But he didn't want to disappoint his parents.
"Yes," he said with as much resolution he can muster.
He saw the other's lips draw to a thin line before looking away. Fujima remained staring at a distance, eyes burning through a distant spot on a wall. He lowered his eyes before turning back to him.
"If your mind's made up, go ahead," Fujima proclaimed coolly, the edge of his lip twitching up at a tepid attempt of a smile. He looked away again, this time a pensive look on his face.
Hanagata didn't know what else to say. Fujima knew of the dedication he has to the team, and Hanagata had proven it many times over. "It was a very difficult decision for me to make, Kenji," he said, using the other's given name in an attempt to placate him. "I'm not entirely happy with this, either."
Fujima nodded, eyes still looking elsewhere. "I know, Toru," he answered in a hushed tone. "I understand, I really do."
Hanagata was a little taken aback. He was expecting resistance from him. "I'm surprised you're taking this quietly."
To this, Fujima's lips quirked. "Give me some credit here," he said. "I'm on third year, too. I know the difficulties. But, I've decided to stay. As long as the team will need me, I'll be there."
"I'll be there when you need me as well," Hanagata pointed out, a little hurt at the subtle hint. "It's not like I'm completely out of the scene."
Fujima held up a hand in supplication. "I know that. But," he added, shaking his head ruefully, "it's not the same, is it?"
He didn't know what to say to that. Hanagata sighed sadly. "I'm sorry, Kenji," he said truthfully.
"Me, too, Toru."
They sat silently for some minutes before Fujima stood.
"I have to head home," he announced in his old careless way, as if they hadn't talked of something serious just then. He paused a step, and turned back. "Aren't you going yet?"
"I have to get a shower," Hanagata reasoned. He tossed his head. "You go on ahead." He gave a lopsided grin.
Fujima responded with a half-hearted one before a giving him lingering look, then he headed out the door.
Half an hour passed since they all left. Hanagata had showered and changed, after which he still sat there. His head just wanted to explode. Where did it go wrong? They were in top form, raring to have a rematch with Kainandai. Shohoku was just one of the steppingstones to get to that goal. Nobody knew that one little pebble caused them to trip. That misstep cost them dearly. And it might have cost him a friend due to his decision to leave.
The means to an intended outcome ran through his head. If only he let Fujima play earlier, they would have pulled away, if not for his stubborn pride. If only Hasegawa consistently stopped Mitsui from his long range attacks. If only that redhead didn't elbow him in the face, his play wouldn't have been affected. But if only he made that last shot, they would have won even by a narrow point.
Then there's the imminent falling out with Fujima. He wasn't admitting it, but he was definitely affected by his deputy captain's decision to leave the team. But I'm not leaving!
But whatever Fujima couldn't say, he was right. Hanagata couldn't admit even it to himself. He was quitting.
"If only I was strong enough," he whispered, giving vent to a long sigh. It was no use pondering. It was giving him a headache, along with a wave of nausea that plagued him in the last minutes of the game. If he mentioned that to the doctor who treated him, he wouldn't be allowed to play.
I've had enough. Hanagata stood abruptly, causing the pain in his head to swell. His hand went to massage his temples, careful not to dislodge the gauze dressing on his right temple. It wasn't the hit he took that made him feel weak; it was the utter exhaustion and the feeling of hopelessness that drained the strength from him.
"Just what I need," he mumbled as he picked up his bag and made his way out the door, trying to ignore his discomfort. He paused outside the door. He swallowed several times, urging the dizziness to go away. Leaning back against the wall, he took a few deep breaths, the sound echoing softly throught the empty corridor.
"Are you alright?"
He looked down sharply at the owner of the voice. He wasn't alone, after all.
Hanagata shook his head dismissively. Oh, I shouldn't have done that, he lamented when his head exploded. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered the girl. "We just had a bad game."
He saw her step closer, fixing a scrutinizing gaze at his partially covered face. Hanagata prayed she couldn't see him gawking at her as he stared into a strange pair of violet eyes.
"No, you're not alright," she insisted gently. "In fact, you look very pale."
He looked away with a faint shrug, dropping his hand. "It's nothing, really," he said. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." When he pushed himself off the wall, he swayed slightly.
There was a hand on his arm, a gentle warm touch that permeated through his jacket. The small yet firm hold was enough to steady him.
"You're really not alright," she repeated, her tone unchanging. "Come on, let me help you."
His automatic response would have been to decline, and probably point out that she couldn't possibly help someone as big as he was. But he couldn't bring himself to speak , nor did he refuse. He just gazed at the mezmerizing eyes, fascinated at the flecks of gold swimming in clear violet pools. He blinked rapidly, felt the heat rise in his cheeks. For some reason, she showed no indication of being offended by his open stare.
If he had found the wits and the courtesy to decline, it was already too late. His arm was already over her shoulders, while her own arm clasped about his waist.
"Y-you don't have to..." he said it, anyway, growing uneasy at his closeness with this strange girl. He was struck for the first time at her height, as she almost reached his chest, above average for girls.
"But I want to, Hanagata-kun," she answered, her lips turning up to a smile. They were making their way slowly down the long empty hall towards the exit.
"How... how do you know my name?" he asked, puzzled.
Her smile turned up slightly. "Who wouldn't know Shoyo Basketball Club's star center?"
"You were watching?" he hedged.
She nodded. "You played very well, Hanagata-kun," she assured him.
But his heart still sank within him. "Apparently, 'well' wasn't good enough," he answered quietly. "We lost the game."
She didn't speak, but merely looked up at him. Hanagata was anticipating a sympathizing remark, or a look of pity—two things he would rather do without. But all he found in her gaze was... something different. There was no trace of pity in them. The best way he could describe it is there was a sage-like understanding in her eyes.
"Almost there." Hanagata heard her say, breaking the eye contact as she stared ahead. The spell was broken.
The unease grew as they neared the exit. He would practically die if any of his teammates—or even anybody— saw him like this. Him with a girl? He would never hear the end of it from his teammates. He could almost hear it now: Hanagata, closet playboy. It's not that he wasn't interested in girls. It just wasn't in his priority at the moment. His quiet, aloof image was going to be shattered the minute they step out of the tinted glass doors to find... virtually nobody outside. Hanagata looked around slowly, and blew out a sigh of relief.
They didn't even meet anyone while they walked two blocks to the bus stop. Hanagata gratefully disengaged from her and slumped on the wooden bench, his companion sitting beside him.
They sat in silence as they waited. She seemed to be absorbed in her observation of the sky. Hanagata chose not to disturb her, and watched her instead. She was indeed tall for her age, if her youthful face and strange high school uniform was any indication. Her flowing auburn hair was unbound, cascading about her shoulders. Her face was turned up towards the heavens, small lips parted lightly. Pretty violet eyes twinkling in secret merriment under finely arched brows. They were sitting under the balmy afternoon sun, but she didn't seem to mind. The golden rays danced on her skin and hair, giving her an ethereal glow.
Hanagata drank in the sight, still in a haze. This he can see happen to their team captain. Girls flock to Fujima like bees to honey. Anyone with half a mind would know why.
But for it to happen to Hanagata Toru? Not in this lifetime!
A cool wayward breeze came. She reached up with long delicate fingers to sweep the strands from her face.
"How do you feel?" she asked, looking back at him.
"Worse,"he blurted. He swore in his mind. He shouldn't have slipped and told a lie instead. His vision hadn't steadied and the vise on his head hadn't gone away. But Hanagata would rather crawl home than own up. He must really feel terrible.
"Look, Miss," he continued after a while. "I'm very thankful for helping me out. But, I think I can take care of myself from here on. If you like, I'll wait till you get on to your bus." He was surprised at the hesitation in his voice. In fact, he wished his ride won't come before hers. But he didn't want to leave right away, nor did he want to leave.
What was wrong with him? He was never affected by girls like this. He even ignores girls much prettier than she was. What he only knew was that he felt himself being... drawn to her, wanting to just be with her. What's going on? They just met in the hall a few minutes ago!
She suddenly looked up, relief in her features. Hanagata turned to see in dismay a bus slowly pulling up. She stood up, he made to follow.
He checked the bus number. "Looks like we're sharing this ride," he said with a small lopsided grin.
"Yes, it seems so," she replied.
They sat in silence as the bus rode off. Hanagata closed his eyes, relishing the air conditioning blowing into his face.
"Where do you live, by the way?" he asked, opening his eyes to stare at his seatmate.
In turn, her eyes looked skywards thoughtfully and said, "Oh, not that far." She gave an enigmatic smile.
He raised an eyebrow, then leaned back against the headrest. Maybe he could catch a nap for a few minutes...
"Here we are!"
He reopened his eyes slightly, then frowned. Certain landmarks were familiar: the flower shop right across the street, the newsstand just behind the bus stop bench. It was his stop.
"You said your place wasn't that far," he hedged. Then he just had a good thirty minutes' nap!
She turned back at him, nonplussed, with a shrug. "It is, isn't it?" she said as she stood.
As Hanagata stood up, the discomfort returned. He grimaced slightly, thankful that she had her back to him. But as he stepped onto the pavement, the jarring movement caused another tide of headaches, eliciting a small moan from him.
The girl looked up at him in mild alarm as she drew closer. "Careful, she said, her hand on her forearm.
"It's—okay," Hanagata replied, making his way towards the bench. "Just give me a few minutes, then we'll be on our way." He sat there trying to collect himself.
She gazed at him without a word, her eyes with growing concern. She leaned forward.
"That must be a hard blow you took," she said soberly.
"It's part of the game," he explained, trying to make light of the situation. "It happens. I'm just lucky it had to happen to me." He grinned wryly.
"I think it's best that I see you home," she declared.
What?!
"Ne, miss," he stammered. "You don't have to."
"I insist," she said softly, but firmly. "Besides, you look like you needed company."
"I do?" he asked flatly. She nodded.
"More than you think," she said. "Though you're hiding it, you're very affected by your loss."
Hanagata frowned slightly. "I don't even want to think about it," he said laconically.
"But you are," she stated simply.
He sighed. She seemed to see right through him. "Alright," acknowledged. "Let's say that I am. Who wouldn't be affected? We played our hearts out, only to lose. We were close—so close—to beating Kainan. And I blew it!" He threw his hand up in frustration. The heat rose into his head once more.
"Why do you say it's you who failed?" she asked.
"I missed the last shot," he stressed bitterly. "Who else is there to blame?"
"But you were too far to make that shot," she pointed out.
"The ball almost got in! It could have gone in."
"But it didn't." she said quietly.
Hanagata sighed, the weight of the defeat returning as he slumped back against the bench. "Yeah," he repeated tonelessly. "It didn't." He sighed again. "You know what I can't accept? That was our last game. Our one and only game. We were expecting to play in the finals, worked hard for it. Do you know we trained three hours every day? Not for the eliminations, but for the finals! But now..." he trailed off, leaning his elbows on his knees, staring off across the street, "that's all gone."
Gone. In a snap of a finger. Victory was taken away from them by an unknown team in the district. All Shoyo have been all these years was a runner up behind Kainan. This year was their last summer in the basketball team, they felt they were ready to take on the reigning champions. They had the manpower, the endurance, the leadership, and the heart to topple the number one team.
And all it took was one single shot. But all was gone.
The Shoyo player no longer felt the despair in their loss. In its place was an anger slowly burning in him: at the fortune they were dealt with, and, mostly, at himself for letting the team down.
A moan escaped his lips as one hand clutched the side of his head. The throbbing pain was unbearable, making even thinking agonizing.
There was a hand on his shoulder. "You really should be on your way home," she spoke earnestly.
He looked up at her, then nodded slightly, getting up. He made no protest as the girl slid his arm over her shoulder.
They made it to his street without incident, and without bumping into anyone he knew. He felt relieved as they stood outside the gate of his two-storey home. He could tell that there was nobody home. Usually, he would find his mother tending the gardens when he would arrive from school. His little sister wasn't home, either. They must have gone out.
The minute they were through the front door, Hanagata lead the way towards the living room. He settled onto the long couch with a grateful sigh. Then he remembered his manners.
"Oh, would you like anything?" he asked politely, starting to get up.
She laid a hand on his arm and smiled sweetly. "No, don't bother," she replied. "Where's the bathroom?"
"At the end of the hall to your left."
She patted his arm before leaving the room. Hanagata removed his jacket, slinging it over the back of an adjacent armchair. He sat back and closed his eyes.
He felt her enter the room, and opened his eyes to see her carrying a small basin.
"What's that for?" he asked curiously.
"For your headache," she answered, setting the basin on the low coffee table. She dipped a small towel into it.
"Miss, you shouldn't have..."
She looked up. "But I want to help, Hanagata-kun," she said emphatically. "Everybody needs help from time to time. Now, lie back."
He did as he was told this time. He had a feeling her remark was pertaining to him for some reason. Hanagata hardly, if ever, asked help from anyone.
He felt the cool cloth on his forehead. It instantly relieved some of the pain he was feeling.
"Better?" she asked, arranging the cloth on his head.
Th heat might have left his head alone, but it gathered in his cheeks again. "Y-yes," he said.
"Good," she remarked. She settled herself on the floor by his side."You know, if it's any consolation, Hanagata-kun, it was a very hard-fought game."
He gave a slight nod. "Yeah, it was," he agreed, the furstration in his voice gone as pain and exhaustion took over. "So much for our last game in high school."
Her hand hovered near her lips. "Oh," she exclaimed softly. "But don't you have games in the winter?"
His eyes averted to the ceiling. "I planned on leaving the team," he admitted to her. "Once we clinched the championship and entered the Inter-High competitions again. I don't see a reason to change my plan now. Besides, I'm in my senior year. I'd have to concentrate on my studies from then on."
Hanagata glanced in her direction. Her face was etched in disappointment.
"That's it, then?" she questioned. "You're giving it up?"
The words stung in his ears even until now. He remembered his old coach as he was training for the Shoyo team in his freshman year. He ran young Hanagata to the ground every time. And at the end of each gruelling session, he had asked those same words. There was no hint of taunting or mockery in his voice, but it burned Hanagata's ears every time. It was one of the reasons why he kept going, strove harder, until he gained strength and agility in his tall and lean frame and made him one of the go-to players of Shoyo.
"No!" he said rather strongly, then looked away in shame. "No," he repeated more gently, "it's just that academics in the senior year is not as easy in junior year."
"But you're quite smart, Hanagata-kun," she told him. "I'm sure you can handle your studies just fine."
"What are you trying to say?" he asked, scowling.
"I'm just wondering if that's what you really want," she stated with a shrug.
"It's what it should be," he returned. "We had our chance. Now I have to work on my future."
She smiled indulgently. "I'm not saying you should neglect your studies," she explained. "I always thought you were a fighter, always struggling against adversity. You always pursued your dream."
"Well," he responded with a sigh, "it's time for me to get my feet back on the ground."
She stared at him quietly, a frown marring her delicate features. "That's not what I'd hear from you. You were the sort who never gave up even if others had."
Hanagata looked at her quizzically. "How..."
"You're the sort who follows things through to the end," she said, cutting in. "You always settle unfinished business."
She rested her hand on his arm as she leaned forward, her violet eyes lit with fervor. "Like your name, you are the shining star of Shoyo. As Fujima-kun is its head, you are the heart, the life-force that keeps your team going. You give your teammates hope and urge them to do better.
"Like in the changing seasons, there's always new hope, new beginnings. Never fail to stop hoping, Hanagata-kun, no matter the difficulties. I know it's hard when you feel like you're alone in your cause. In truth, your teammates feel the same way. You don't have to be alone in your misery. That's what your friends and team are for: they lift you up when you fall. Just never, ever, let the hope die in you, Hanagata-kun."
Hanagata looked straight at her, his mind swimming. "Who are you?" he asked slowly."Where are you from?"
She binked at him in surprise, then broke into a small laugh. "I'm just a friend who cares," she answered. "And I've been around here for quite a while now."
"A foreigner, aren't you?" he surmised. He should have guessed from the start, what with the color of her hard and her strange-hued eyes. But her Japanese was perfect.
"Well, yes."
"Did you make it your mission to help hapless guys like me?"
There was a mischievous glint in the violet gaze. "Oh, what made you say that?" she asked.
Hanagata grinned. "Nothing," he replied distractedly. "Forget what I said." He waved a hand dismissively.
She smiled genially as she rearranged the cloth on his forehead, brushing away his forelocks.
"Rest now, Hanagata-kun," she urged softly, still stroking his hair. "I'll be here."
His eyes began to droop, but he still continued staring at her. But, soon, the headiness was taking over. I haven't even asked her name, Hanagata thought groggily before drowsiness was slowly taking over. Maybe later...
He stirred slowly into consciousness as a distant noise came to his ears. Hanagata ignored it, thinking he only imagined it. The memory of the strange girl finally roused him to full wakefulness as he forced his eyes open. The sitting room lights were turned off. The only lights on were in the hallway and near the window. He almost jumped when he finally noticed a figure sitting on the armchair. He relaxed when he recognized the person.
"Fujima," he murmured sleepily, shifting to get a better view under the poor light. He could tell his teammate still wore the team's jacket and track pants. "What are you doing here?"
"You sure would make a terrible housemate, do you know that?" Fujima Kenji berated in way of greeting. "First, you leave the front door unlocked. Then you leave a shabu-shabu pot to cook on its own while you doze off." He shook his head, lips turned up cynically.
Hanagata blinked at him, the words slowly registering in his muddled head. "What?" He took the semi-damp cloth from his forehead as he sat up stiffly. Luckily the pain eased to a manageable throb. He glanced around.
Fujima waved towards the coffee table. Hanagata followed the direction of his hand. There was a covered bowl placed in front of him.
"I set that aside to cool for you," Fujima said.
He stared at his teammate myopically, then back at the covered dish. "Thanks," he answered. "But... didn't you see her?"
"Who?" Fujima queried, frowning.
"A girl, a gaijin," Hanagata tried to explain, gingerly stretching his limbs to get the kinks out of them. He really needed to remember to never fall asleep on their narrow couch again.
Fujima arched a fine eyebrow. "Really? A girl, ne?" He grinned, eys twinking. "And a gaijin."
Hanagata looked askance at him. "She sort of helped me get home," he pointed out. "She wanted to help badly, so I let her."
The grin only broadened. Hanagata groaned inwardly. He wasn't helping his cause at all.
"So where is the girl?"
"I was asking you! She was right here when I fell asleep."
"Well," Fujima remarked, looking around, "she's not here now."
Hanagata raked his fingers through his hair, feeling a little disappointed. He didn't even get a chance to thank her, let alone know who she was.
"But how could that be?" he mused aloud. "She shouldn't have left just like that."
Fujima just shrugged.
Hanagata looked away. The day has been nothing but one strange turn after another. But this girl... she came as she mysteriously had gone, leaving him to wonder as to her motives. Steal from him? Not likely. A quick survey around him told him everything seems in place.
Upstairs?
He stood up suddenly, triggering the dizzying sensation once more. Hanagata staggered slightly that Fujima bolted up to steady him.
"Toru?" Fujima asked in concern.
He ignored him and bounded the stairs three at a time. He opened the door to his sister's room. Nothing. He headed to his room, then checked his parents' bedroom. Everything looked normal. But there was no sign of the girl at all.
"Could you tell me what's happening?" Fujima demanded as he came up from behind him.
Hanagata continued to look around, trying to control his rapid heartbeat. When he seemed satisfied, he turned to his friend. Fujima was staring wide-eyed at him.
"She's not here," Hanagata stated simply.
"I can see that," Fujima retorted. "Let's just go downstairs. You're starting to scare me."
"Sorry," he said as his hand mechanically came up to push up the glasses that weren't there. He dropped his hand quickly.
He was totally confused by her unceremonious departure. She surely wasn't driven away by Fujima's arrival. She certainly wasn't the shifty type. There was an overall openness about her, and he did feel he could trust her. And she sure wasn't bashful around him.
He let out a breath. It was starting to give him a headache again.
"Hey," he called out, resolving to forget the matter for the meantime. "Do you want some shabu-shabu?"
"I never thought you'd ask!" Fujima exclaimed with an unabashed grin.
Hanagata responded witha friendly grin. Outside the playing court, Fujima was pleasant enough, shedding off the lofty status he holds in the basketball club. Only a few were comfortable with his two personas, including some of their own teammates. And Hanagata was one of those few who could banter with the aloof Fujima.
He proposed to his guest that they go into the kitchen as they talked. He peered into the large pot. There was enough for his family for dinner, and extra helpings for himself later. Hanagata paused in thought. He doesn't remember his mother planning to cook it for them today...
"So what brought you here, by the way?" he inquired as he placed a steaming bowl in front of Fujima, sitting at a chair beside him.
Fujima stared at his bowl, digging into it with his spoon. "We didn't exactly part in good terms back in the locker room," he admitted, staring up at Hanagata.
"Yeah, we did," he acknowledged, scratching his head. "Fujima, I..."
Fujima held up a hand. "Wait, hear me out," he cut in. "It's true that I got upset by your announcement. But I had some time to think before I came here." He took in a breath. "As much as it pains me, I'll accept your reisgnation from the team. You'll be very hard to replace," he added wistfully with a sad smile.
Hanagata shook his head in disbelief. "Fujima..."
"You're more than welcome to hang around and help with the rookies," he went on. "We'll need all the help we can get for the Winter Cup."
"Have tou talked to the others?" Hanagata queried, referring to his fellow third years Takano, Nagano and Hasegawa.
"I have Takano's answer so far," Fujima said thoughtfully. "And he says he's staying. I don't know about the other two."
Hanagata glanced away, not bearing to see the hint of sorrow in the blue eyes. In the changing seasons, there's always new hope...
This was the only true time he could consider they lost very badly. He wasn't as devastated when they lost the championship. But that's when they had a shot at the championship. They got that close. Bowing out to Shohoku put them out of the competition early on. It killed their hopes of getting even with the top-seeded team altogether.
Never fail to stop hoping... Was he already giving up?
"Fujima," Hanagata ventured slowly, his gaze focused on his hands on the table. "I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm beginning to rethink my earlier decision."
The captain's eyes widened slightly, his frame straightening. "Really?" he said, the excitement in his voice hardly contained. Then his face fell. "You're not changing your mind because I'm making you feel guilty for leaving, are you? Because I can't have that. I'm not that a manipulative bastard yet."
Hanagata grinned sardonically. "Your manipulative ways don't work on me," he joked. "This is serious. We still have another chance. I don't want to have any regrets for not trying one last time."
Fujima eyed him keenly. "Are you sure this time?" he pressed. "I don't want to coerce you into coming back. What about your parents? And your studies?"
"Come on, Kenji, you know me!" Hanagata rejoined. "I think I can manage schoolwork. As for my parents, we'll have another talk, maybe tonight."
Plain disbelief played in Fujima's eyes."You're very positive about this?" He chuckled. "Of course you are! I'm talking to Hanagata Toru! And don't worry about school. I'll see if I can ease up on the seniors. And we could always get special study sessions for all of us. I'll talk to the teachers."
Hanagata leaned back in his chair, amazed. "You already have this worked out, haven't you?"
Fujima beamed proudly. "Of course!" he bragged. "I have to take care of my team, you know."
The taller youth chuckled good-humoredly. "Well, quit talking and start eating. My food's getting cold."
Another schoolday morning in Shoyo high. The day seemed brighter, hanagata noted as he made his way to school. The seemingly pleasant atmosphere helped ease the soreness in his limbs, and the morning breeze cleared his head.
He met Itou along the hallway as he proceeded to his locker. He nodded his greeting towards his younger teammate.
"Good morning, Hanagata-san," Itou said with a smile. "Feeling any better?"
"I am," he responded as he opened his locker, putting in his bag. "What about you?"
His kohei shrugged."Still a little disappointed," he admitted. "It's hard getting used to the fact that we won't be playing the rest of the competition."
Hanagata nodded. "But there's still the Winter Finals."
"I know. But it won't be the same without Fujima-san or you to lead us," Itou said wistfully. "Most of the starting players would be leaving the team, won't they?"
To this, Hanagata responded with a winsome smile. "Who says that we are?" he challenged. "Fujima, Takano and I are staying on. I'm not sure about the others, though."
The younger boy's face lit up. "Is that so?" he asked excitedly. "You don't know how glad I am to hear that!"
Hanagata was slightly aback by the hearty remark, but was warmed by the sentiment. He could only grin at him in response.
"I can't wait until the others hear about this," Itou told him. "Excuse me. I'll be going now, Hanagata-san."
As Fujima is the head, you are its heart.
The
girl's words reverberated softly in his head as he watched Itou's departing
figure. He shook his head. He can't have that big an influence on them, can they?
At closing his locker, a white object fluttered towards the floor. He caught it up before it did. It was a white, unadorned card. Turning it over in his hand, he saw a short note, written in neat kana:
He looked around abruptly, at the faces walking past, wondering how it came to his locker.
A small smile crept to his lips as he stared thoughtfully at the small card in his hand.
Thank you. Whoever you are.
Terms:
gaijin -- foreigner, usually referring to Westerners.
hora -- "Hey!", "Look at that..."
kohei -- junior
ne-- "uh," "hey" (usually an expression to catch attention with)
If you got to this point, thank you for reading this story. Any thought or criticisms are welcome. Flames are gonna be blissfully ignored.