I could not believe it. Shūtoku, Seirin and Kaijō - we're all here. I bitterly watch how my teammates bicker with our rivals about us all staying in this particular training camp, while I knew the place was popular among all teams in the first place, but no, they wouldn't listen to me. They wanted to come here, "it's nice here". And here I thought that my team was the most grown-up. As I look at them, I realize that the only ones like that are myself and Ōtsubo. But Takao isn't fighting. Instead he is casually chatting away with Kasamatsu. They're both point guard, aren't they? I am amazed that they have so much to talk about. From the second they saw each other, there was and still is constant laughing and sarcasm and commentary about the teams; something connecting them. Their words have the potential to be endless. I'm not worried. I think.
As we walk towards our appointed lodging, I ask him about Kasamatsu. "I don't think it's wise to affiliate with our rivals that much." "Kasamatsu is an amazing fellow point guard, Shin-chan, we share strategy," he grins at me and mimics making a powerful pass. "That isn't wise either." They could easily best us during the next game if they knew too much about our new tactics. "But it was wise to help Kagami and Kuroko?" he nudges me with his elbow as he laughs. "You're so controversial, Shin-chan." Maybe.
Having settled in in our room, Ōtsubo comes in. "We're training with Seirin and Kaijō, since Seirin's the only one with their coach here," he says, to which our team shares different emotions. That's right, that Aida-girl goes everywhere with her team. I vaguely remember Kise laughing about their coach being not very good with warm climates or something, and Nakatani is currently preoccupied with an English teacher seminar. We change clothes and walk to the beginning of a trail running through the woods, where Seirin is already waiting. Soon enough we can see Kaijō advancing as well, Kise annoying Kasamatsu up front. The next few hours we do all sorts of training, always seeking to best each other in stupid exercises. Now we're going to play against each other.
The matches we do are quite chaotic. Our teams are mixed and I am to play against Kuroko and Takao along with Kaijō's extras. You have got to be kidding me. Takao gives me a wide smirk when he catches a pass from Kuroko. No matter what he does, it won't work. "I know your technique," I mouth more to myself and prepare to take the ball from him, but I miss. He's too fast all of sudden. No, it's just an illusion. As I dash alongside him, trying to cover him and not allow him near the basket, I remember. I remember how he kept chatting with Kasamatsu during our warm-up. No way.
I stop when I see Takao fall and a whistle blow. I rammed into him with my shoulder before in a desperate attempt to stop him from scoring. I know he's not so good in shooting and I'm much taller than him and even though he's excellent in passing, I never make fouls such as this. As I look behind myself, I notice Kuroko and behind him was one of Kaijō's players, who could had easily made the shot. As I turn back to Takao, I question the look he's giving me. It's... as if full of hate. "You're so desperate to remind me you're stronger than me that you'd push me?" he asks as he stands up, brushing the rubble off his scraped knee. It's bleeding. "I just took you as an opponent." False. I took him as a threat. "Are you kidding me? You don't shove your opponents, Shin-chan. Someone take over for me, I'll go to the bathroom," he yells to the bench with a slightly less irritated voice and leaves. I know I won't see him for the remainder of the day. I'll apologize during dinner. At least, I'll try.
Having arrived at the mess hall, I notice that he's already sitting at Kaijō's table. Not bothering him, I sit down alongside my team and enjoy the traditional dinner laid on the table before us. About half an hour later I notice Takao leaving and I stand up to follow him. It's weird. He's usually the one running after me, but this time I'm the one chasing him. "Takao," I say his name when we're outside and he's rattling with the vending machine. He turns around, questioning. "Yes, Shin-chan?" Stop calling me that. "I'm..." The words won't come out of me. I'm not the one to apologize. He folds his arms, cocking an eyebrow at me and smugly smiling at me. I realize he isn't angry at me anymore, but still... I find I have the need to explain myself. I think he would like me to do so too. I somehow know.
"What happened before... You know I don't give up easily; I fight for what I want. It takes a lot for me to actually give up on something or someone. And it's to be the best in basketball, Takao. I can't just throw away all the hard work and time I put into it. I can't just give up because times are hard, especially if that person means so much to me. I keep fighting for what I want until I can't fight anymore, until giving up is the only option I have left. And then I fight some more. This is how it works." "That thing." "What?" I ask, not understanding his comment. "You referred to basketball as a person," he cheekily smiles at me. "Oh." What if I meant...?
"This is how it works?" he sighs and pushes a button on the machine. Having taken out the can from it, he folds his arms again and furrows his brows at me. "This is how it works? Shin-chan, you're young until you're not, you love until you don't, you try until you can't, you laugh until you cry, you cry until you laugh and everyone must breathe until their dying breath. No, this is how it works. You peer inside yourself, you take the things you like and try to love the things you took and then you take that love you made and stick it into someone else's heart, pumping someone else's blood and walking arm in arm. You hope it doesn't get harmed, but even if it does, you'll just do it all. Again." "You should stop reading quotes, you forgot to replace that someone with basketball," I correct him, looking at him widen his narrow eyes. "Right, sorry about that," he laughs it off and tosses me the can. It's red bean soup. I watch him return to the mess hall. What if he meant...?