January

Snowdrop - A Friend in Adversity

Winter. Cold. Alone.
A time to be with oneself, hiding. Gather up in a blanket,
shut the door upon the world and reflect upon what is within.
A time to heal.
A time to take time, slow time, stretch time, feel time.
Underneath the soil, the bulbs of spring sleep softly.
Just waiting.
Waiting.

Rukawa touched the soil with his fingers. It felt cool and damp and pleasant. He reached for his trowel and began to sift gently. The young heads of the tiny snowdrops bobbed as he brushed them.

Be careful, he told himself.

The snowdrops were small and delicate; tiny little flowers that woke so early in the season, white like the snow from which they would grow. They were a symbol of the promise of the new year, and of the seasons that would turn.

"Rukawa-kun!" his manager called across the flower beds.

Rukawa looked up. Around him, the glasshouse was empty. All the other employees were off today, spending time with their families for the new year.

"Rukawa-kun, one of our clients needs this delivery urgently. Since Ueda-san is not here today, how about you drive it over instead?"

Rukawa rose to his feet, long limbs straightening, tall form standing out among the low flower beds. He looked towards the manager.

"I-" he began, his voice soft. "I can't drive the van, Mariko-san. I've only just turned sixteen."

Mariko looked astonished. "Oh, I keep forgetting. Rukawa-kun, you're so tall I just… oh no… how am I going to deliver these?"

Rukawa looked away. Mariko was kind and likeable and a friendly manager, but he never felt comfortable talking to people. That was why he liked this part-time job here, at the nursery. He wasn't required to face customers or clients; he spent all his time tending to the flowers.

He looked down at the snowdrops by his feet and their delicate blooms. The sight of them caused the smallest crack of a smile at the corner of his lip.

Mariko, watching him, unexpectedly said, "You really like tending the flowers, don't you, Rukawa-kun?"

"Uh-" Rukawa looked back up at her. "I guess."

Mariko smiled at him. She wore muddied jeans and work boots and had a pencil behind her ear. In one hand she held a clipboard and in the other, a cell phone. Rukawa didn't know much about her except that her husband was some sort of salaryman, and her two children attended school. He admired her for single-handedly running her family's flower nursery business.

"That just shows you've got a kind and gentle nature," Mariko said.

Uncomfortable with being the topic of conversation, Rukawa said nothing. He kept his eyes on the snowdrops.

Unseen, Mariko continued to smile. She was glad to have given a part-time job to this youngster. He was reliable, quiet, and focused on his work, and he made the flowers bloom beautifully. She did sometimes wonder why he had needed to take on a part-time job, but it was rare for him to speak about his personal life, so she didn't ask.

"You've got a bicycle, haven't you?" she realised suddenly. "If we fix a basket to the front, could you carry the pots like that?"

"Um… maybe. Where is the delivery to?"

"Oh," Mariko consulted the clipboard in her hand. "Around Ryonan."

Ryonan.

"Okay," he said. It wasn't too far, and he knew the way.

"After the delivery you can go straight home. Your shift is almost finished anyway."

Rukawa went to collect his bicycle and then watched as Mariko used gardening twine to affix a wire basket to the handle bars. Inside she carefully placed the pots of snowdrops, their heads bobbing gently with the motion.

"Here's the address." Mariko handed him a delivery note. "Ask them to sign here. Be careful not to go too fast; even though there's no snow, there might be ice on the road."

Rukawa looked down at his tiny charges; six small pots of snowdrops that he must carry safely to their destination. What future life awaited them? Would they bloom in somebody's garden? Perhaps on a window sill? He wondered if they would be well-tended. He hoped so.

Soon he was cycling down the street, the chill breeze lifting his fringe from his forehead and gently flapping the fabric of his jacket. Around him, concrete office buildings rose grey and still. The streets were quiet on this new year's day, and Rukawa's bicycle skimmed along the silent road that was dark with old rain. The air was chill with winter, and the sun was low in a grey, overcast sky. His warm sweater, coat and gloves kept him comfortable despite the cold.

When he reached an unfamiliar junction, he slowed to consult Mariko's written directions: right, then left, then left again. He pushed the paper back into his pocket, crinkling the rough fibres, and took a moment to rub his cold hands together before slipping his gloves back on. He took the right turn, and cycled further.

A public sports park came up on his left and Rukawa slowed, noticing that there were basketball courts there among the other facilities.

Here, abruptly, there was colour and movement. A few figures were running and passing a bright orange ball between them. They looked lively in the midst of the winter stillness, like speckled birds darting among the limbs of a long-dead tree. Curious, Rukawa manoeuvred his bicycle from the road to the pavement, wanting to take a closer look.

As Rukawa came close to the fence, he noticed that the players were high school students like himself. Some seemed familiar. He dropped his foot to the floor, watching them.

That boy there, he was on the Ryonan High School team, wasn't he? Rukawa's team had played against them not too long ago, and Rukawa thought he remembered his face. The Ryonan boy had floppy hair and an irritated expression. He was busy directing his playmates, pointing and gesturing impatiently. Near him, Rukawa was almost sure, was another Ryonan player with large lips and sunken eyes, making a sullen face as he unwillingly followed the directions. It seemed their team was practising here.

The court itself, Rukawa noticed approvingly, was in great condition. The tarmac was bright and fresh, the nets intact, and there was no graffiti on the backboards. It seemed like an excellent place to practise.

Rukawa spent most of his free time at the public basketball court close to his home, but it was good to know that this facility was here for those unlucky days when his usual court was busy.

Rukawa was still admiring the condition of the park when someone suddenly said, "Hey, isn't that…?"

Rukawa's attention returned to the players to find that he was now being scrutinised by the bossy Ryonan boy.

The eyes the boy had fixed on Rukawa were narrow, and his expression was unfriendly. He was wearing a warm track suit, gripping the orange ball tightly, and although his breath was visible as white steam in the air, his face was flushed red with the exercise.

Rukawa turned away and set his feet against the pedals, intending to leave. He did not want to talk to anyone.

"Ah!" a high-pitched and excitable voice pierced his ears. "Ah! That's Rukawa! Rukawa Kaede from Shohoku!"

Rukawa ducked his head, hoping to avoid their attention, but immediately even more voices began calling his name.

The prospect of being stuck there answering questions and making small talk was inconceivable. He really disliked talking to people. One of the few things he disliked about being a starter for Shohoku's basketball team was the unwanted attention that came with it. He wanted to play basketball in peace and be left alone, but it seemed the spread of his name and reputation was an unfortunate side-effect of playing his favourite sport.

"Rukawa?" a curious voice sounded close behind him, just on the other side of the chain fence.

Rukawa didn't wait to see who it was. Pushing the bike forward with his feet on the pedals, he rode straight back to the street, his eyes focused only on the road, heedless of the players he left behind him.

As Rukawa traveled onwards, the concrete commercial buildings gave way to residential areas. Rukawa cycled slowly past small houses with neat driveways and plant pots on concrete gardens. The roads here were narrow, without pavements, and the homes were modest with limited space. It was tidy and neat, as if people took pride in their community.

Rukawa finally stopped in front of a small house on the gate of which a business sign had been erected: Ayano's Party Planning and Wedding Arrangement Services, it read. It was probably some sort of business run from home, Rukawa guessed. Thankfully the address and business name matched the one on his delivery sheet.

Rukawa leaned his bike against the garden wall. He hesitated, looking up at the house, and was caught for a moment in the familiar feeling of anxiety that always came to him when he was required to meet someone new. Worries filled his mind. What if the person taking delivery was unfriendly? What if they refused to accept the pots? Or what if there was a problem with the order and Rukawa could not resolve it?

Rukawa began to regret having agreed to make the delivery. He'd much rather be tending the flower beds than facing some unknown person behind an unknown door.

Suppressing his anxiety, he forced himself to walk up the path and ring the doorbell. A muffled electronic tune sounded inside the house.

"Please wait a moment!" a female voice called from within.

Rukawa swallowed and shifted his feet, waiting for whoever was coming to meet him. Soon enough, the door opened to reveal a rather harried-looking young woman in her mid-twenties. Her hair was slipping out of her bun and falling over her ears. She was still wearing pyjamas. She had a beautiful face, but gave a very untidy impression.

"Yes?" she asked, pushing her fringe away from her face. "Are you one of Akira's friends? He's not here. They've all gone off to play down the road."

"I- I'm from the nursery," Rukawa managed to say, feeling very ill at ease facing this stranger. "Are you Miss Ayano? Um, did you… order a delivery… of flowers?"

"Oh!" The woman straightened in comprehension. "Yes, that's right. For the barbecue. You're delivering them?"

"They're here… on my… bike." Rukawa's voice sounded strained with his nerves. He quickly turned away, keen to escape the doorstep, and went back to his bicycle. He felt a bit safer standing close to it.

Taking one pot carefully in his hands he lifted it, and the woman in the doorway was able to see the tiny snowdrop.

Ayano's expression immediately turned to disappointment. "Oh," she said, staring. "They're really small. I thought they'd be bigger."

Rukawa's eyes widened. He looked down at the tiny snowdrop in his hand confusedly and felt a nervous tightening in his temples. What did she mean? What did she expect him to do? Something like this was exactly what he'd feared. He wasn't good at moments like these. Should he apologise? Should he try to explain? Should he just take the little flowers back to Mariko?

"Uhm-" he floundered helplessly.

"O~nee~san~!" a cheerful voice came calling up the street behind him. Rukawa looked round to see a youth approaching them. He was carrying a sports bag on one shoulder, dressed warmly in a tracksuit, his hair wilting and tousled from his time spent playing. He had a familiar face. Rukawa stared at him, noticing his handsome features, confident stride and ready smile. A player from their rival team, Ryonan. Sendoh Akira. The so-called genius of high-school basketball.

Rukawa felt his stomach curl unpleasantly. He did not want to talk to him.

"Akira, what do you think?" Ayano – apparently Sendoh's older sister - asked. "These are the flowers for the tables at the barbecue tonight. Don't you think they're too small?"

With his attention drawn to the flowers, Sendoh did not look at Rukawa's face and seemed not to realise that the delivery boy standing awkwardly there was someone he knew.

"Oh, let's see." Sendoh peered curiously into Rukawa's basket at the little snowdrops.

Rukawa watched his profile. Sendoh's face was relaxed in a calm, easy-going expression. It made Rukawa even more aware of his own awkwardness. Rukawa had never liked people or socialising, and he wasn't very good at it. He never knew what to do with his hands, or his feet, where to put his eyes, or what to say.

He knew it was a weakness he had, sometimes he even regretted it, but he wasn't able to change it. Being around people to whom such things came naturally and easily was an unpleasant experience for him. People like this Sendoh Akira.

He felt sure that if Mariko were here she would be able to explain exactly why the flowers would be perfect centrepieces for any table. But Rukawa did not know how to do that.

"Well-" Sendoh frowned, considering the flowers thoughtfully.

Rukawa tried hard to summon some words or reasons. He wanted to make them understand the beauty in those tiny white petals, silken buds and dark green leaves. He wanted to make them see the perfection in those precious living things, each unique and beautiful as a picture. But before he could even think how to explain, Sendoh spoke instead.

"I think they're sweet," Sendoh decided. "Like little snowflakes. It's winter season so it's best to choose something subtle. Don't you think, neesan? You don't want something loud and gaudy, right? Besides, it's the new year, and these are the new flowers - they are a fresh beginning, do you see? They're perfect."

"Oh, well," Ayano did not look too sure. "If you think so, I suppose."

The fragmented sentences died on Rukawa's lips still unsaid. He stared at Sendoh beside him in silence. How easy it seemed when someone else did it.

"Of course!" Sendoh straightened and smiled at his sister. "I have really good taste!"

"Well… I'm not sure about that," she said doubtfully. "All right. Well. I guess it's fine. Can you help the delivery guy put them into the van? I will take them to the barbecue site after I get dressed."

"Uh-" Sendoh folded his arms over his chest and sent his sister a cynical look. "You know uncle still hasn't returned the van, right? He borrowed it to move the stock for the hardware store."

Ayano looked astonished. "Oh, no, I totally forgot! How am I going to deliver these?"

Rukawa blinked silently in surprise. A feeling of deja vu came over him. He felt like he'd had this conversation before.

"Where is the delivery to?" he asked reluctantly, his voice quiet. "Maybe I can re-deliver them for you."

Ayano turned to him with a thrilled, grateful expression. "Oh, you can? Oh, thank you so much! It's not far! I'll write directions for you."

Sendoh also turned towards him, only to realise that he recognised the boy who had been standing beside him the whole time unnoticed. "Oh!" He looked amazed. "Rukawa? Is that you?"

Rukawa spared him only a brief glance from the corner of his eye in acknowledgement.

"Wow, how come you are delivering the flowers?" Sendoh took a step back to see Rukawa better, his eyes considering Rukawa's clothes.

Rukawa became suddenly conscious of the muddy patches on his work jeans. He reached up and tugged at his sweater collar uncomfortably, disliking Sendoh's attention.

"Is this your family's business?" Sendoh continued curiously.

Rukawa shook his head. "Just part-time work," he muttered, looking off to the side. He wanted to get away from there as soon as possible, and hoped Ayano would hurry up with the directions so he could leave.

"Oh, I see," Sendoh smiled kindly at him, but Rukawa was not looking his way. "Are you in a hurry?"

Rukawa shrugged. He hadn't been in a hurry before, but now that he had to make a second delivery, the time was getting short. There was school tomorrow, and he had to organise his sports bag. Besides, he still needed to buy groceries and cook his dinner.

Before Sendoh could ask anything else, Ayano reappeared in the door frame. "Here!" she passed a paper to Rukawa on which was scrawled an address. "This is really very helpful, thank you so much, er-"

She waited expectantly, but Rukawa failed to fill the silence.

"Rukawa." It was Sendoh's voice that eventually spoke up to introduce his name. "His name is Rukawa Kaede."

Rukawa kept his eyes on the directions. He could feel the two siblings both watching him curiously. He stood awkwardly, clutching the paper, trying to pretend they didn't exist.

"Rukawa-kun," Ayano smiled. "I really appreciate it. If you're not busy, feel free to stay on at the barbecue for a while. It's a charity event. There'll be plenty of food. Akira will be there."

Rukawa shook his head. "No I, uhm-" he looked at the snowdrops waiting patiently in their basket. "I'll... go now."

He climbed back onto his seat on the bike.

"I'll call ahead," Ayano told him quickly, "and tell my colleague to expect you. She can sign the delivery note for you."

Rukawa didn't reply or wait any longer. He set himself into motion, taking care not to jostle the flowers too much as he headed back the way he had come, still with his precious bundle, grateful to finally be leaving the two Sendoh siblings behind him.

He looked down at the tiny flowers.

It's not far, he told them. We're on our way.

Sendoh watched the younger boy cycle away down the road.

"What an odd boy," his sister commented, her eyes also following his path. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"No," Sendoh frowned. "He's from another school. He does play basketball, though."

"He's tall," Ayano said, nodding. "Is he any good?"

"Yeah, he's pretty good," Sendoh acknowledged. He recalled his previous encounters with Rukawa on the court. Rukawa played with a focused determination and cool demeanour that seemed a lot like arrogance. But that was a little different, actually, from how he had appeared today. "But he's not as good as me," Sendoh added after a moment, with a small smirk.

"Well, why is he so sad?" Ayano asked him.

"Sad?" Sendoh echoed, creasing his brow. "Do you think he's sad?"

Ayano shrugged. "I thought he seemed rather..." she hesitated, unsure how to explain. "Well, withdrawn, I guess. Lonely, maybe. You should talk to him. He looks like he could do with some cheering up."

Sendoh thought about how Rukawa had stood over the snowdrops almost protectively, like he had wanted to shield them. Something about his posture had made Sendoh also want to defend the little flowers despite the fact that they had, indeed, been too small.

"Well, maybe," he replied thoughtfully. "But perhaps he wouldn't like that. I think he's rather… private."

His sister shrugged. "Up to you," and turned to head back into the house. "It was kind of him to help, though."

Sendoh stayed where he was, considering the retreating bicycle right up until it turned the corner and disappeared from view. Kind. Yes. And rather… unexpected.

-TBC

ANs: Hello! I'm here with amazing and exciting news! Some wonderful friends and I have been working hard over the last few months to publish a physical print version of this story, and it's finally ready for pre-order! The cover artwork and internal formatting is absolutely beautiful and I'm SO excited to bring this project to you guys. It's been a ton of work but completely worthwhile.

I'll be re-uploading all the chapters of this fic here and on AO3 over the next couple of weeks in their fully edited final form.

If you're interested in buying this book as a senru keepsake for your bookshelf then please refer to my twitter page (it's at star711117) for all the info. You can DM me here or there with any questions. The project is completely non-profit, so the price is just the price of printing plus shipping costs. Pre-orders are only in Feb 2023 so don't miss it as there's only one print run!

Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and support now and over the years. It's a pleasure to be a part of this fandom and to have met so many wonderful people, readers, writers and friends. I really hope you'll continue to share the slamdunk and senru love now and into the future :D