Warning: This chapter is not funny. At all.
Now Rukawa Kaede is flying through the air! He shoots towards the ring with the ball in his hand! He slams the ball into the hoop! It's a SLAM DUNK!
Rukawa Kaede is running again! He is sprinting towards the basket, ready for a fantastic lay-up! Oh look, he's jumping! He's concentrating! He's about to lay the ball in! He -
*crash*
- bangs into a brick wall!
"Ouch," I mutter. I rub my forehead. Damn, it really hurts. What did I run into anyway? I was all ready to make that lay-up...
"STUPID KITSUNE!"
I know that voice. It's none other than...
"How dare you bang into this tensai! Watch where you're going, baka!"
O-kay. So it's my fault that I attempted a lay-up and he ran into my path. How completely dense is he? Did he honestly think he could've blocked that shot? Him, of all people? I mean if it were Captain Akagi maybe it's another story, but we're talking about the idiotic Hanamichi here. He-who-cannot-shoot-free-throws-and-bangs-into-the-backboard-whenever-he-attempts-a-dunk Hanamichi. Puh-leese.
"Do a'hou. You were in my way."
That red face again. How many times do I have to look at his crimson mug in a day? He looks like an overripe tomato.
I glower at Sakuragi and tune his words out. I know what they are anyway. He says the same things all the time: Stupid Rukawa, I am a genius, you are an amateur, you suck, you idiot, blah blah blah. Luckily, Captain Akagi comes along and gives Sakuragi a well-executed punch on the head. At least he's out of my face for now.
Let's see. I've done dunks, three-pointers and lay-ups. I've stolen about fifty balls so far and I've dished out fifteen assists. I've also grabbed a few rebounds, maybe about twenty. Still, there's something missing. I don't know what. I've asserted myself so much and it still doesn't seem to be enough. I'm sweating buckets, I'm panting (although Mitsui is wheezing and he looks like he's about to die, poor guy who tried to hit on me), and I'm all fired up but I'm still not satisfied.
Come to think of it, I've never really been satisfied, not even when we won Shoyo by two points after a tough fight.
I force myself not think about it and focus on practice. Yes, that is what I need. Practice, practice and practice. Basketball is my life. I've been playing for as long as I can remember and I don't know any other way. I have to excel.
"Rukawa, heads up!"
I look up, and see the orange sphere whizzing in my direction. I catch it easily, dribble it past Miyagi and Kogure, leap into the air with a twist and slam the ball into the basket. Score.
"AHHH! RUKAWA-KUN!"
"Aishiteru Rukawa-kun!"
"Nice, Rukawa!"
"Go, Rukawa-kun!"
That was Captain Akagi's sister, the girl Hanamichi is so obsessed with. Hmm, what's her name again? Ha-something or other, maybe Haliko? Well, whatever.
"All right, practice is over. Same time tomorrow, don't be late."
Huh? Over? Has it been two hours already? Somehow, I no longer have a concept of time when it's me and basketball. Next time, I'd wear a watch.
"Hey, Rukawa." It's Captain Akagi. I should answer him, considering he's the captain.
"Yeah?"
He gives me a smile. "You did well today."
I look blankly at him and nod, although
I know what he said isn't true.
*****
I wanted to stay for more practice but I remember that my mother wants me home tonight. I tried to get out of it, but she told me, very firmly before I left for school, that she wanted to talk to me. I just know it's not going to be good. I know from experience that the words 'we have to talk' inevitably come with things you don't want to hear, things that are bad, things that will break your heart. I know it all too well.
My mother is waiting for me in the living room when I reach home. The non-descript, two-roomed apartment is messy as usual. Mom is sitting on one of the worn-out couches we got from a dumpster that has obviously seen better days. She's staring into space, lost in thought.
I look at her now, and I feel something clenching my throat in a tight vice. Her present self is merely a shadow of who she used to be, of the life she once had. Her hair is in a mess, her skin pasty and pale and sickly, like a cancer patient's. She's brought so much sadness into this tiny amount of space that I cannot escape. And I really, really don't need any of this.
She hasn't noticed that I'm home. Maybe I can elude her if I creep quietly into my room. Maybe I can get out of this talk that she wants to have with me, whatever it is.
Maybe Rukawa Kaede is a real coward and doesn't deserve to live. Idiot, she's your mother. She's the woman who gave birth to you after 12 hours of painful labour and brought your sorry ass screaming and kicking into this screwed up world. I think you owe her at least a talk.
Damn my conscience. I can never escape that either.
So I find myself sitting tentatively opposite my mother, after clearing away the empty beer cans that were on the chair. I don't know what to do with myself. Should I call her to let her know I'm here? Or should I wait and let her finish thinking whatever it is she's lost in?
"Oh Kaede, you're home," she says suddenly.
So. She's finally snapped out of her reverie.
I clear my throat. "Yeah," I mumble. I wait for her to start her 'talk', but she doesn't say anything and simply looks at me. The expression on her face is unbearable. I look away.
I clear my throat again. "Um, you wanted to talk to me?"
My mother sighs. It's a long, drawn-out one, battered and torn. It sounds sadder than anything I've ever heard in my life.
"Kaede, I received a call from your principal. He said you're not doing well in school."
I curse silently. This is about school. Great, just great. Exactly what I need.
"He said you're always sleeping in class," she continues. "Your grades have slipped, haven't they? Kaede, talk to me. Why aren't you doing well in school? You're such a bright child. Tell me what's going on."
As if she doesn't know. God, for heaven's sake Mother, just listen to yourself talk! I'm not doing well in school, but at least I'm doing better than you. I'm dealing better than you. I'm not the one moping around the house half-dead every day, sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring and drinking god knows how many cans of beer a day. You don't need to hear from me to know what's going on, Mother, because you know it yourself. You are proof of all that is wrong with our lives.
I think all that, but I say none of it. "I'll work on it," I mutter in reply.
She doesn't believe me. "It's basketball, isn't it. It's taking up too much of your time. Maybe you need to quit."
"No."
"Kaede, don't be stubborn. Grades are important. You need to graduate from high school so that you can get a decent job when you grow up. You wouldn't want to be uneducated and jobless. I think you should quit the team to spend more time on your school work."
I stand up. I have enough.
"Basketball is my life and I'm not quitting," I say coldly. "And maybe you should take your own advice and stop preaching at me."
I walk into my room without waiting for a reply and slam the door shut. I throw myself down onto my bed. The rusted springs squeak under my weight.
The sound of muffled sniffing drifts steadily into my room. I can hear it loud and clear.
My mother is crying.
*****
Midnight. I'm wide awake. I can't get to sleep, no matter how hard I try. Well, isn't this a first? Rukawa Kaede is unable to sleep when he usually sleeps like a dead duck.
I suppose this is what most people call 'guilt'. But I wouldn't know.
Okay. I will try to go to sleep again. If I don't, I'd be sleeping in class, and I can't afford that luxury anymore, not if I want to retain my sanity and my number one drive in life. It is, of course, to play basketball.
I try counting sheep. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep...
This is dumb. I count basketballs instead.
One Jordan dunk, two O'Neal missed free-throws, three points by Stojakovic, four consecutive Stackhouse lay-ups, five Rukawa rebounds...
...a hundred points for Shohoku...none for Kaede...
A/N: I did say it's going to get heavy.
Devoted2Mitsui: Isn't Mitsui just the greatest? I love everything about him, from his shadowy past to his fantastic knee guard. Hehehe. Maybe you'd want to read my other fic, since it's about Mitsui, but it's up to you. Thanks for the review.
Leviathan: The humour is kinda subtle. People usually don't get my sense of humour though, so I'm not surprised. Besides, I don't do humour very well. Thanks for the review. :)
Emerald Space2: Glad you found it funny. :) Thanks for the review too. (I keep repeating that damn sentence but how else to say it?!)
To everyone else who's left me reviews, thanks sooooo much. Really. I appreciate it. I'm too tired and lazy to do the thing I did above so this will do. Sorry.
I'm writing this and the other fic I have at the same time. Let's see how long it's going to be before I develop a split personality. I'm already bordering on schizophrenia anyway.
PS: Does anyone know where I can get Japanese-dialogue Chinese/English subtitles SD DVD/VCD/VHS/anything in Singapore? Do they even exist? All I've found thus far are the ones dubbed in Chinese. No point if the show is dubbed. I don't get to hear Hana's mad laughter and Mitsui's sexy voice and Rukawa's "do a'hou".
