POV Midorima
"Dad," I say at the door to his study."
"Shintarō," he looks up, distracted from his medical journal. He tilts his head. "Are you or Takao injured or in trouble?"
"No," I say, confused.
"Ah, good. I haven't seen that look on your face in a while. Come in and tell me what's on your mind."
I sit in the chair across from his desk with my hands on my knees.
"The events of the past two years have convinced me that I am not suited for med school."
He laughs for at least fifteen seconds before he takes off his glasses and wipes them on the hem of his shirt. I don't know what to say, so I stay silent.
"I'm sorry Shintarō. I shouldn't have laughed at you, you're being very serious and I'm not honoring that. But really, I'm glad you finally realized that you're not suited to be a doctor. I've never wanted you to follow me out of obligation. What have you decided to study then?"
"Athletic Training."
"At Tokyo University?" It is the last place we had discussed. I've been studying so hard for its entrance exam all these months.
"No," I exhale. I'm afraid of disappointing him, but his smile does not waiver. "We've had another offer, Waseda University. They also offer a Sports Business Management degree for Takao."
"I'm glad you've decided on your own path, but you're not going to be a PE teacher, are you?"
"No," I say, barely hiding my chuckle. "It's like a branch of sports medicine. I have decided on it for one simple reason: I will need to have a fall back plan."
Dad's eyes scrunch, but he waits for me to continue.
"I've decided I want to purse basketball professionally. Me without basketball is as ridiculous a thought as me without Takao, but not everyone makes it. I may be hurt, I will eventually reach my limits, but as an athletic trainer, I can best prepare myself. Even after I can no longer play, I can still be relevant to the sport that I love."
"Do they have a good academic reputation?"
"Yes," I say. "I wouldn't consider them unless they did. I've looked over previous years' exams and with some additional tutoring, it won't be a problem." The test looks ridiculously easy in comparison to Tokyo U. The only part I am at all concern about is English proficiency. Takao will have to work overtime.
"Do they have a good basketball team?" he asks. Dad moves forward on the edge of his seat, he is encouraging and excited.
"They do. Takao and I met with their scouts twice, once after last year's victory at the Kanto Cup and again at the Inter-high. They are willing to take both of us on the team as first strings. It's not a strong school yet, but with the two of us, we'd be competitive."
"Scholarships?" With every question he asks and every answer I have ready for him, he knows that I am serious. I wonder if that look on his face means that he is proud.
"Enough so that Takao and I could live on campus as roommates and it would still cost less than it would to send just me to Tokyo University."
"You've thought this through," he says, nodding. "Living away from home will be difficult for you."
"Yes, but I am willing to modify my behavior for our future."
"This doesn't have anything to do with Akashi turning down the NBA offer, does it? Or Kagami and Aomine's acceptance onto the National Team?"
"Are those thing motivations?" I ask. "Certainly, but perhaps more so Kise's injury and his early retirement. If I don't do this, if I don't try, I will regret it."
With Takao's help, I pass the English section of my entrance exam. I pretend that my tutoring with Literature helps him as well, but I know that's probably not true. We are late for Sunday's game because of Takao's scholarship exam for the English Language Scholars Program. Neither of us complain though, because the funds he earned today will allow us to have a slight cushion when we begin college in April. His talent for the subject is impressive. He makes it seem easy, somehow, when English words roll of his tongue.
Today's game participants are Kagami and Kuroko, two freshmen whose names I didn't bother to learn, and Kiyoshi and Hyūga, who are on a break from college. Although the Iron Heart can still play well, he is no longer able to compete at our level anymore. Occasionally, he rotates in when he's not coaching from the side. We all drop the intensity of play when he comes in, as if by silent agreement, but putting limits on ourselves is a different kind of challenge.
After the game, Hyūga brings out a flyer and after much internal debate that he expresses in his every movement, he hands it to me. It's for a Shooting Guard Competition that the JBL is holding. It's an open competition to find the best student shooter to send as a representative from our country to an international training camp."Winners would receive a round-trip ticket to New York to attend training at Madison Square Garden and a scholarship of ¥50,000 per semester for up to four years.
"My coach and our senpais have encouraged me to compete," Hyūga said.
"You are a good shooter," I confirm.
"But you are the Generation of Miracles Number One Shooter. You should compete."
"Of course," I say, unsure of what a proper response would be.
"That's what I love, the ego," Takao chides, and slaps me on the shoulder. He has the perfect ability to cover up my awkwardness by turning everything I say into a joke to soften it.
The men on the court next to us have also finished their game. If their t-shirts are correct, they are Tokyo University students.
"Are you guys talking about the Shooter's Competition and scholarship?" the leader of the group, a Yankee with yellow hair, asks. He can't pull off the look as naturally as Kise and he reminds me of Aomine before his defeat; he is all arrogance and repressed hostility.
"Yes," Hyūga says.
"Which school are you from?" the Yankee asks.
"Keio, I'm studying History on a basketball scholarship," Hyūga says. I can see his hackles rise as the arrogant man walks into his personal space and spins a basketball on his finger.
Some of the man's followers begin whispering and pointing.
"What about you?" the guy interrogates me next without offering any information of his own. "Number one shooter, huh?"
I don't like his tone, so I ignore the question.
"Who do you play for?" Kagami demands. It is not necessary for him to come to my rescue, but I appreciate someone else drawing the bully's attention as I feel myself shut down emotionally as a reflex.
POV Takao
"You've got height, I'll give you that, but you're just a high school brat. Calling yourself the number one shooter is just ego."
"What position do you play and for who?" Kagami challenged, again. His face was as red as his hair.
"I'm a Shooting Guard of course and I'm gonna win that competition, so these brats need not apply," the blonde douche bag with attitude boasted.
"Is that the only insult you know?" Kuroko said in a low tone and we're all started as we realized he had been there the whole time.
"How about we play and see who has the best shooting guard? You've got five guys, we've got five guys," Kagami taunted.
I could see the physical change in Shin-chan as the bullying flipped switches in his head that weren't often flipped. Kuroko moved in closer to him, as he also knew about Shin-chan's history. Kagami followed his partner's lead and the others, while only recently friends with us, seemed to bristle as much from the insults as I had.
"Play you guys? What a waste of time," he snickered to his teammates. "You'd have to make it interesting. Let's see if you've got more than centimeters. Losers run through the fountain square naked."
"I'd pay good money to see that," I chuckled.
"Sounds good," Kiyoshi said. "I've always wondered if Midorima-kun's curtains matched the carpet."
Shin-chan's eyebrows flew up and the other team walked over to their bench and readied themselves.
"Oi!" Hyūga shouted at Kiyoshi. "What kind of crap is that?"
"Let them think we have no faith in Midorima-kun. It will be funnier when he proves them wrong," Kiyoshi responded.
"Hey you guys?" Kiyoshi shouted to the bullies. "How about we make this even more interesting. Let's limit the game so that the only person allowed to score is the shooting guard. The rest of each team can only assist."
"Tch," Midorima said and pushed his glasses up, then begun unwinding the tape from his fingers. The calm of control settled onto his features.
"Cool by us, but I think you'll regret it," their shooting guard said with a smirk.
"Takao-kun," Hyūga said, taking over as captain, "you'll be our point guard. Kagami you'll be our center, Kuroko will do his thing, and I'll support the best I can. Kiyoshi, you call plays from the side as needed."
The game was over almost as soon as it started. I threw in to Kuroko who used his Ignite Pass to Shin-chan who'd hung back in what looked like a defensive position near our own goal. It was a bold and ego-filled opening move, but as Shin-chan dropped into shooting form and the bullies laughed, he straightened into a full jump, and they stopped and stared.
The ball fell straight and true through the rim, the psychological damage was done. Kuroko and Kagami coordinated to back tip their power forward and the ball quickly returned to Shin-chan's hands. We were up six points before the game was a minute old. They tried to restart fast and aggressive, but I was expecting it and intercepted the pass. We kept the game an uneven runaway, with Shin-chan scoring approximately every thirty seconds. His shots were flawless and after ten minutes, or one regulation quarter, the other team admitted defeat. Their run through the fountain was gratifying.
Thank you to Andarkness23 for their tireless work in beta reading my work.
Also, if you are interested in what's going on with Akashi and the NBA offer mentioned in this chapter, please check out "Priorities."