The race to 30 game ended.
"What was that all about?!" Sakuragi started, kicking Kiyota's ball out of sight. Later on, the ball would come to be forgotten.
"What was that all about? That was 40 minutes of humiliation, 40 miserable minutes of my otherwise wonderful life!" Kiyota blared hysterically, sending saliva spewing from his mouth.
"Yeah thanks to Kitsune here for allowing Mitchy to get four 3-pointers in." Sakuragi scowled as he shot a poisonous look at the fellow rookie.
"I'm not the one who got nothing more than air-balls and rejected throws courtesy of Sendoh." Rukawa spoke, not taking his eyes off the redhead.
"Don't get so full of yourself; you only got 3 baskets in."
"You two only got 2 each."
Unfortunately, Kiyota, who had no patience left to tolerate any more criticisms, joined in Sakuragi's and Rukawa's harsh exchanges.
"You should've let me handle Mitsui-san!" He yelled at the redhead on a very high note and continued, "I would've prevented him from scoring that much!" and ended his rant with a furious glare at Rukawa.
Rukawa, too, came to mind, to finally realize this wasn't the right time to exercise his usual silence. No, there was no way he could just take the blows of the frantic verbal onslaught against his regrettable performance. He spoke,
"It's as easy as saying you can't handle Fujima. I bet his dusts taste so good; it really looked like you couldn't get enough of them."
"Bastard."
The three seniors just stood there, watching and listening to the three's immature gripes, possibly more dumbfounded than they appeared to be.
"Ahahaha…they seem to be taking this more seriously than they need to." Fujima remarked.
"I must say, I miss being a freshman." Sendoh said, ignoring the fact that the three were cursing the lights out of the heavens.
"Well…that went pretty well. Nice game." Mitsui flashed a handsome smile at Sendoh and Fujima. They continued to exchange cordial remarks, all the while watching the three rookies render the 1-mile radial vicinity surrounding them doomed to endless bitching.
…
"I'm going home." Kiyota announced and stood up, clearly still languishing over their defeat. "Thanks for the game." He finished grudgingly, giving them a collective wave of goodbye.
Fujima was still mildly surprised at the freshmen's take on their loss. Nevertheless, he thanked Mitsui and Sendoh, and nodded at the two remaining rookies before announcing his departure.
"Let's do this again some other time." Mistui called out to him, to which he received a pleasant nod for a response.
"I gotta run; looks like it's gonna rain." Sendoh remarked, a very wide grin across his face. "See you around, Shohoku boys."
Sakuragi, who now seemed to be mulling their disgrace in silent fury, stood up and called out to the Ryonan ace,
"I still owe you a sandwich." Sakuragi reminded him.
"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot."
And the two headed for the coffee shop, leaving Mitsui and Rukawa behind.
The freshman slung his towel on his shoulder and secured his ball between his arm and hip. Far from deciding to depart, the senior remained seated on the bench, somewhat oblivious to the sky's threat of a heavy downpour in a matter of minutes.
"I'll go now, sempai."
"See ya."
…
"Kuso!" Kiyota would mutter to himself over and over again in his travel towards the park's exit. Recounting the game's highlights was doing him no good. But, of course, there was no obliterating from his mind all those rejected shots and stolen drives as they were so recent. Hence he struggled to bring himself to think of anything besides basketball, if only to recover from the vexation he acquired from his recent attempt to leisure.
He would call his mom and would ask her to pick him up because his discomfort could end up conceivably worse should he persevere to walk home; he was on the verge of giving the concrete pavement a taste of destruction by slamming his head against it.
To his utter dismay, he could hear footsteps tracing his, despite being too occupied with
his bitter musings to pay them any heed. Again, the same voice he first heard that morning called out to him, seizing his attention all at once.
"What's your route, Kiyota-kun?" Kenji Fujima asked before formally making his presence known.
The aftermath of the game, unfortunately, was still thick upon him. As it was, without thinking and turning to look at who made the offers, he yelled back,
"I'm off to my neurologist! I'm gonna have the imbecilic memories of that game erased!"
The senior chuckled politely. Kiyota turned around to discover Fujima trailing a few steps behind him.
"Oh. It's you." The mildly-embarrassed freshman said.
"I take it we're on the same route. I live in 2nd district, Kurosawa street, you?"
"Oh, I'm from 3rd district, Zaraki street. I think that's only two streets from yours."
"You walking home?"
"I'm just about to call my mom to pick me up."
"I'll give you a lift then." Fujima proposed, without so much as imagining any objection as he stopped by a blue Toyota and reached for the keys in his pocket.
"I'll just call my mom."
"That'll hassle her. Hop on." Fujima insisted, to which the rookie finally obliged and made for the passenger seat. The senior cracked the engine to a start.
…
Akira Sendoh surreptitiously stole glances at the redhead. They were walking side by side, both finding it difficult to bring the freshman's performance into conversation. Surely, it might result to a violent outburst, so Sendoh decided against bringing the topic of basketball.
"You don't have to do this. I mean, I don't mind." Sendoh said in a rather awkward manner.
"I'm a man of my words; I agreed to treat you lunch if I lose." Sakuragi replied despondently.
So he's not all nonsense, Sendoh thought.
"A man of your words huh? You said you wouldn't lose." The sophomore smiled while he said this. This pun, apparently, was his way of finding out by degrees why the redhead had taken the loss with obvious difficulty. Was Sakuragi expecting that much of himself?
Sakuragi remained silent for a good few minutes, which Sendoh took as signals that he might have mishandled the situation. For a split second, Sakuragi's behavior made him expect a life-threatening bellow. But Sakuragi kept his quiet until they reached the counter.
"Two tuna clubhouse sandwiches and two iced white mocha."
They found a table by the window. In no time, Sakuragi began devouring his meal with the sort of enthusiasm which gave Sendoh immense relief.
"Wild monkey and Kitsune sucked big time."
The sophomore decided to take full advantage of the rookie's sudden change of behavior, by taking a shot at humor,
"Well said, hahaha."
"Hmp. You made a shit out of me too." Sakuragi scowled on his food.
"…"
"Let's do this again next time."
"Yeah, I'll pay the bill next time."
"Not this, baka. Basketball."
"Oh…sure, no problem."
The redhead finished eating. "So," he placed his hands on the table and clasped them together as though he was a detective performing a cross examination on a suspect,
"How were you able to tell if I was gonna shoot? I was faking most of the time; all to no avail." To Sakuragi's credit, he incorporated a huge amount of formality in his voice, thereby obscuring any signs of surliness towards Sendoh.
So this is what it's all about, the sophomore thought. He took a sip off his coffee before answering, "Easy. Your fakes fall a little below convincing. They're too abrupt, too clumsy to ensure you a basket. And YOU know it. It's that obvious. Your jump shots are good when left unguarded but I've noticed you tended to panic a little whenever I'd raise my arms in front of you."
"Hmmm…how do you steal a possession? I thought I had it all secured down there."
"You're dribbling's NOT weak; on the contrary, it's more on the aggressive side. However that may be, and unfortunately for you, I happen to be faster…and more aggressive."
"What should I do?"
"Alter your pattern of movements; you can direct your dribbling; cross-overs, under-the-leg, behind-the-back and so on."
"So you're saying I'm too basic?"
"Far from it. I say, I like your enthusiasm."
"Why couldn't I block your stupid shots? Or steal the ball?"
"It's psychological. It's because I was thinking that you can't; you know what I mean? I'm pretty sure you're capable of that, but I eliminate distractions by ignoring them; it wouldn't matter if you waved an elephant in front of me because it's all in the mindset. Focus. I'd just fire the shot anyway."
"I see. How long is it gonna take me to master all these?"
Sendoh paused and surveyed the redhead.
"You catch on pretty quick. Perhaps you're longing to hear something you've yet to hear. But if you haven't noticed, I've been bombarding you with a litany of clichés here. And here's something more cliché: it's more a matter of conviction and determination than experience or actual skills. I think you already know what that means."
Sakuragi leaned on his back and pondered silently.
"That's all?" he finally broke the lengthy silence.
"Just about it. It's not as tedious as it sounds."
Silence took over once more to allow the sophomore's words to be absorbed.
"I'll go home now; mom's probably worried."
"Ok. Thanks for the meal."
The redhead stood up and made his way to the door, but stopped halfway through as if remembering something. Slowly, hesitant words escaped his throat,
"I'll work on my game. If you're not busy, you can help me. I'll see you there whenever." It was said with much reluctance, as though he was asking an impossibly huge favor.
"Sure."
TBC