Disclaimer: Slam Dunk & its characters © Inoue Takehiko


Can You See Me Now
a Slam Dunk fanfiction

Every year, there's one day in late autumn when the leaves have turned red-brown and are beginning to fall, to litter the pavements and swirl where feet disturb them when Sakuragi will lose his invigoration, will feel like closing in upon himself but doesn't, not really anyway; because he's stubborn and hard-headed that way.

It isn't that Sakuragi does anything out of the ordinary. He's still loud, still brash, still enthusiastic, still does stupid things, says stupid things, gets into fights unnecessarily and threatens anyone who seems to even vaguely insult him. But maybe it's that everyone's so used to Sakuragi being all that that they don't notice that there is an added layer of falsity in his personality, in the crinkle of his eyes as he smirks and laughs, in the way he gesticulates exaggeratedly.

Youhei knows, the Guntai knows, and he appreciates that they try to take his mind off of that day by doubling, tripling their efforts at irritating him, goading him, getting him to chase after them to beat them up. He appreciates that they don't say anything when he chooses to go off after school without a word to visit a place that he only heads to once a year, a tradition that no one else knows about.

Some years, it's hard for him when he thinks to himself of the 'if-only's. If only he had been more obedient. If only he hadn't gone and taken on those guys that late morning and beaten the crap out of them, taunted them so they had to seek revenge and save their own pathetic egos that afternoon. If only he had been stronger.

Other years, he aches dully inside as he finds himself filled with idle thoughts: that he'll never see his father's disapproving look again as he comes back, bleeding and bruised but triumphant after a fight; the resignation as his father patches him up and the almost childish sadistic pleasure on the old man's face as he dabs the antiseptic-covered cotton bud on Sakuragi's wounds just that bit rougher so Sakuragi yelps and flails around, yelling rude things only to grit his teeth and hiss as his father warns, "Move and I'll do worse"; that he'll never hear his father's gruff 'Okaeri' when he returns home and yells 'Tadaima'; that he'll never again hear his father say quietly, out of the blue, that there's more to Sakuragi than fighting.

This year, Sakuragi stands in front of his father's headstone and looks around almost uneasily, stuffs his hands into his basketball shorts and scuffs his basketball shoes on the dirt ground surrounding the grave, then stares at the picture of his father, the proud face that gazes serenely back at him.

He doesn't break the silence, the calm in this quiet place in Kanagawa where his father lies in his final resting place, a man dead of a heart attack in his mid- forties because his son had been occupied fighting and couldn't get medical help in time. He stands there, still and slightly hunched, brown eyes just that bit less bright, more tired, that loud brash mouth closed and pressed into a thin line before it curves up in a slightly bitter, sardonic smile.

Can you see me now, old man? Guess you were right afterall.


Notes:
Okaeri: (traditional Japanese phrase) "Welcome home."
Tadaima: (traditional Japanese phrase) "I'm home."

Author's Notes:
Sakuragi's background as I imagine it is that he only had his father (who died when he was in junior high, I believe) as early as he can remember. I envision his father as a man who is quite traditional, yet relatively liberal in the way he brings up his son. I reckon the relationship between Sakuragi and his father must have been quite close. If not, Sakuragi wouldn't have been so shocked when he saw his father had collapsed and fought so hard to try to get help to his father. He wouldn't have cried when he recalled what had happened then during the Anzai-collapse arc of the series too. Then again, these are all just a fangirl's musings. :)