"It's occupied"
"Which?"
"The basketball court." Rukawa pointed out monotonously when they got near enough the chicken-wire fence surrounding the public basketball court.
Mitsui didn't answer. He pressed his forehead against the fence and focused his eyes on the brown-haired boy seated on the floor.
"Isn't that Shoyo's Kenji Fujima?"
At the mention of the name, Rukawa stopped dead on his tracks and turned to join Mitsui's observation, never minding that their shoulders were almost touching.
"That's Sendoh there." The freshman said.
"And that rookie Kiyota Nobunaga."
"And moron." Rukawa finished, recognizing Sakuragi.
"They're stretching. You don't suppose they're gonna take on 2-on-2, do you?" Mitsui asked, despite knowing the answer to that already. As a matter of fact, a certain recollection arose from his thoughts. During practice sessions lately, Sakuragi had always harped about outplaying three of the four MVP candidates on a 1-on-1 game. One of the aforementioned four, obviously, was their captain, Takenori Akagi, whom the redhead had allegedly 'defeated' (under ridiculous circumstances) in his earlier attempts of entering the basketball team. The other three were none other that Shinichi Maki, Akira Sendoh and…Fujima? Fujima didn't make it to the MVP roster because Shoyo didn't make it to the semi-finals. But he was Maki's sole rival, which would mean the redhead might have been referring to him, after all.
Of course it didn't occur to Mitsui, or to anyone for that matter, that the redhead would take his bragging to new heights by actually challenging anyone of them head-on. And Maki was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he sent his minion, Kiyota Nobunaga...
This ticked Mitsui off. He thought it was a deliberate injustice on Sakuragi's part to arrange such a good opportunity without tipping him or any of his teammates off. Naturally, this irritation had a lot to do with being tired of playing against no-challenge, zero-talent street ballers whose faces he'd forget the moment he would stray his eyes from them. And now, there was his teammate Hanamichi Sakuragi, with two of the best players in Kanagawa, off to make the biggest show of street basketball in the history of this local soil.
"Not without us." Rukawa answered, apparently sharing the senior's sentiments.
"Right. Let's convert that to 3-on-3."
…
"An all-star convention I presume." Mitsui started, announcing his arrival, Rukawa trailing closely behind.
"Mitchy! Hahaha." Sakuragi greeted, surprisingly glad to see his teammate. His smile was suddenly abducted by the wind as soon as his eyes fell on Rukawa, "And Kitsune." He added.
"Do'ahou." came the reply.
Kiyota snorted at the sight of Rukawa.
"So," Mistui started, "what's the set up?"
Fujima stood up with faint trace of amusement still clinging to his face, and then he proposed, "How about seniors versus freshmen?"
Silence ensued, before a storm of protests from the rookies erupted.
"Kitsune's a ball-hogger." Sakuragi opposed, without bothering to conceal his hostility.
"I agree." Kiyota said in a very misplaced business-like manner.
"Morons." came the ever so famous one-word retaliation.
"Set-up sounds good to me." Mitsui managed to say amidst the violent objections issuing from the three rookies.
"Sounds good to me too." Sendoh echoed.
As for Kiyota, he could contain his vexation no longer. What were these three seniors thinking? Two aces from some of Kanagawa's best teams and a former MVP all against three freshmen? Why, he might as well wring their necks to knock some logic somewhere in their heads.
"Oh yeah? Why don't I just call Maki-sempai now, and you go call Akagi-san. That makes five of you, Fujima-san, Mitsui-san, Sendoh, Akagi-san and Maki-sempai. And Rukawa here will phone the zoo and request for five squirrels and have them play against you seniors instead. And maybe-" Kiyota could not finish the exercise of his considerable creativity for sarcasm because Sakuragi had just buried a ball up his ass.
"Ouch! You moron!"
"Shut up. And don't call me moron, moron. What kind of attitude is that anyway? Sakuragi snapped before continuing, "I see it now. They're looking down on us, cos we're rookies. Do you want to prove them wrong? You guard benchwarmer. I'll take hedgehog. And, Kitsune, you go watch Lame-o."
At this, Mitsui winked at Sendoh who returned the look with an equally fascinated nod. This didn't escape Sakuragi's eyes.
"You better be sorry for your 3-pointing ass, Mitchy." He warned the senior and turned to Sendoh, "You'll end up nursing your slam-dunking ass." And lastly he faced Fujima, "As for you, you'd wish you've literally fried your behind instead because you three are-"
"Cut it with the ass comments; let's get this show going." Mitsui interrupted.
…
It was embarrassment far exceeding in horror Kiyota Nobunaga's worst nightmare. As it was, having played earlier against the coach captain would have more or less made him acquainted with the senior's playing techniques. But all there was to find was himself, lost in trying to apply what he had supposedly learned. He felt no better than a horseshoe crab struggling to exist in a sea full of tiger sharks.
Things were not faring so well for the redhead either. His newly acquired efficiency in lay-up shots and jump shots was perhaps worth a special mention. All the same, the difference in skills was just simply tremendous. Although he had stamina bordering on limitless and jumping ability that could equal that of a pro, experience still prevailed in the end. His intuition of the game was not as precise as he had initially led himself to believe. He began to wonder if his superb performance against Ryonan was just entirely painted by luck or other such wonders fortune was capable of providing. In the end, it was perhaps too early for him to challenge Akira Sendoh.
Kaede Rukawa was not the type who would underestimate his opponents. He was, however, somehow disappointed when he was not asked to guard Sendoh whom he considered his archrival. But the game would turn out to be a completely different story. While the threat which Mitsui served on his table was simple enough to understand, it was hardly answerable. Who was now Shohoku's ace? The question affected him enough to take the initiative of settling the matter by asking the senior to a one-on-one match a few days prior. In the end, Rukawa had failed to fully grasp the full extent of the ex-MVP's capabilities, and the reason for that was shallow: Mitsui cheated. But neither the cheating nor anything besides which might've transpired in that match could've altered the general truth here, the truth that Mitsui was a genius scorer. And scoring, after all, more or less determined a match's outcome. On top of things, the opportunity of having to guard Mitsui had eluded him for more than he could count. As things stood, it appeared this 3 on 3 game would be the answer he was seeking.
I am Shohoku's ace, indisputably, he thought. But this self-assuring mantra began to evaporate gradually like mists. Yes, Mitsui was the type who'd get worn out easily, while he himself had physical prowess such as you'd seldom see among high school athletes. But what was happening? For some reason, offensive fouls were being drawn from him, as if he would fail to pierce through Mitsui's defense the moment he decided to. And the senior was looking so exhausted he could barely lift his arms, and yet why did it seem like he could read Rukawa's actions and intercept the ball at the perfect time? Sure, no fly-swatting wonders were involved but possessions were being stolen nonetheless. Worse, those 3-pointers were seriously getting on the three rookies' tits, so much that Rukawa was being made to recall their game against Kainan, where Jin's shots demolished Shohoku's chances.
TBC
Note: Sorry Rukawa, Mitsui happens to be my favorite character.