"How long is lunch?"
"An hour and a half," I reply. I check my watch. "We have about twenty minutes more before classes start."
Mitsui groans. "Classes. Great. I love classes. Especially Mathematics. Who gets those things anyway?"
"A lot of people, supposedly," I answer with a laugh. "My mother, for instance, actually, gasp, likes it. And anyway, it's not really that hard once you get the hang of it."
"First day at school, and I'm dissed by my old pal," he scowls. "Life is great. I love Singapore. You all are oh-so-hospitable."
Playfully, I give his arm a slight punch, which causes him to yell out in indignation. "I ain't dissing ya, baby. I'm just saying what is true."
"Fiiiiiiiine," he says. "Whatever you say." He rolls over and faces me, breaking the thin glass of air molecules between us. "This grass is really nice. Has it always been so?"
I laugh again, a little longer this time. What a pathetic way of changing the subject!
"You're brilliant," I say between laughter. "Really, really brilliant."
Three o'clock,
and I stood outside the gym, waiting for Mitsui to materialise. I was treated
to more weird glances as a few students whom I assumed were on the team
filed into the gym, one by one.
Then I saw Rukawa.
He was walking towards me, his eyes partially closed, listening to some
jarring music blasting from his Discman.
"Hey," I said
as he approached. "Rukawa, is it?"
He blinked as
my words registered in his brains. He glanced at me, his face totally void
of emotions. He grunted something inaudible and shuffled past me.
"Stupid zombie,"
I muttered. "Who cares if you're good-looking?"
Somebody chuckled
behind me, and this time, I was sure that it was a laugh.
"You're late.
It's 3.05."
Mitsui didn't
answer. Instead, he took my elbow and steered me into the gym.
"Take off your
shoes," he directed softly. "The floor was waxed a few days ago."
I looked at him
questioningly, but he wasn't paying attention. His gaze was fixed on the
court. The basketball court. He had a faraway look in his eyes. For a moment,
I thought he'd forgotten about me.
"I have to show
you something." He was with me again. His head was slightly tilted as he
turned his attention back to me.
That was when
I noticed the scar. It was a simple line of about five centimetres long.
The red was fading, leaving the white. It was almost non-descript, but
there was something about the way the sunlight was shining on it, illuminating
it, saving it from darkness.
"Allison, what
is it?"
I realised I was
staring. I smiled a little and shook my head. "Nothing," I replied. Remembering
what he asked me to do, I took off my shoes.
"You have something
to show me?"
"Yeah. Wait here.
You'll see."
I waited and watched
as Mitsui approached one of the members of the basketball team and received
a ball from him. He moved slowly, dribbling the ball as he walked towards
the three-point line, as if he was trying to get a feel of the ball.
Quite honestly,
I was stunned by his performance before it had even begun. He was the smoothest
dribbler I'd ever seen, surpassing even the most famous NBA names. He handled
the ball like it were a part of him, pressing down on it nonchalantly and
effortlessly, as if it were second-nature to breathing.
Still, I was confused.
Perhaps I should've guessed, but I was too busy marvelling over Mitsui's
effortless dribbling to make that crucial connection. Before I could attempt
to get my head around it, Mitsui was taking aim. And not only that...he
was taking aim from the three-point line.
His brows furrowed
as he concentrated. He held the ball high in front of him and took a tiny
step back. Then, looking like helium personified, he pushed his feet against
the ground and elevated himself into the air. His graceful movement transcended
even time; all were still as Mitsui Hisashi flicked the ball from him and
towards the goal.
Swoosh. My mind
flashed back to that day at the basketball court. It was an angry, random
shot, but this precise one produced the same result.
Nothing but net.
Mitsui landed
back on Earth and was greeted by enthusiastic cheering from whoever had
seen him, which was almost everyone in the gym.
"Way to go, Mitsui-san!"
"Awesome shot!"
"That was beautiful!"
Mitsui turned
to look at me. His gaze was questioning, perhaps even slightly unsure.
"That's your answer,"
he said softly.
I drew in a deep
breath as I reached my epiphany. I finally understood.
"You're brilliant,"
I replied, for there was nothing else to say.
For a while, his
expression did not change. But as sunlight dripped onto his body, his features
relaxed, and I was treated to, for the very first time, Mitsui Hisashi's
beautiful, unguarded smile.
----------------
*EPL - English Premiere League.
Thanks for the reviews to those who did so. Idiotic Moron, sorry to burst your bubble but I didn't write that myriad sentence. I took it from my wonderful, amazing Longman dictionary. Haha. :)
Personally, this chapter is my favourite, minus the present tense bit. I got a real kick out of writing that part when Missy takes a three-pointer. He always looks like helium personified in the show and I'm always like, "MITSUIIIIIII!!!!!!!!", really loudly, kind of like the Rukawa groupies, haha.
I don't really read over what I've
typed because I've written the whole thing in an exercise book, so I apologise
in advance for any typos and/or grammatical errors. Punctuation errors,
however, are inexcusable, so you can flame me if you see any. Otherwise,
click on that nice little button at the bottom of the page, on the left,
that says 'go'. You see it? My, doesn't it look all cute and alluring and
inviting, the way it's just waiting for you to click on? I think
so too.
(By the way, super rookie, Mitsui
is wanting to explain because if he's not, then I'd have absolutely nothing
to write about.)