The afternoon school bell rang, and Kawamoto Kazuki quickly packed his bag as usual, getting up to leave the classroom.
But a figure in red immediately followed him.
Kawamoto stopped and looked at Hanamichi Sakuragi. "Why are you following me instead of going to club practice?"
Sakuragi broke into a brilliant grin.
He thumped his chest. "Didn't we agree? I'll help you work and earn money, and you'll use the time you save to teach me basketball!"
"I haven't agreed to anything yet."
Kawamoto reminded him in an even tone.
With that, he continued walking.
"I don't care! It's settled!"
Sakuragi put his unreasonable side on full display, following him and muttering.
"Once this genius decides something, he doesn't change his mind!"
Kawamoto glanced at him and said nothing more, tacitly allowing him to tag along.
The two walked one behind the other through the school buildings, heading in the opposite direction from the gym.
After they left school, the farther they walked, the stronger the briny smell in the air became.
They arrived at the waterfront Tsukiji Toyomi Market.
Though not as vast as the famous Tokyo Tsukiji Market, it was still one of the area's major seafood distribution hubs.
Even in the early evening, the market was bustling.
Vendors' cries, the rumble of transport vehicle engines, and the crisp clatter of ice filled the air.
Kawamoto Kazuki threaded his way through the slippery aisles with practiced ease.
Every so often, he stopped to greet stall owners he knew with a slight bow.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Tanaka."
"Grandma Sato, how's business today?"
His manner was humble and polite.
Hanamichi Sakuragi, following behind him, was much more curious.
He still swaggered as he walked, drawing sidelong looks from some passersby.
They finally stopped outside a sizable seafood wholesaler.
White foam boxes and plastic crates were piled outside the shop.
A middle-aged man wearing a waterproof apron, a cigarette between his lips, who looked to be in charge, quickly waved when he saw Kawamoto.
"You're just in time, Kawamoto. We received quite a bit more stock than expected today."
"The northern shrimp in particular need to be loaded and shipped out right away."
"Looks like we'll need some overtime today. Don't worry, I'll pay you extra."
"All right, Boss Kobayashi. Understood."
Kawamoto nodded, then stepped aside to reveal Sakuragi behind him.
His tone remained calm as he introduced him. "This is my classmate, Hanamichi Sakuragi. He's looking for part-time work too. Would you be able to give him a chance here?"
The man called Boss Kobayashi looked Sakuragi up and down.
"A classmate? Oh... sure, that's no problem. He looks well-built. But..."
He paused and blew a smoke ring. "The work here isn't easy. It's all heavy labor. Can he handle it?"
"Don't worry, boss!"
Sakuragi immediately puffed out his chest and pounded it with resounding thumps.
His face brimmed with excessive confidence.
"It's just carrying stuff! Leave it to this genius! I can't speak for anything else, but I've got stamina to spare!"
"Heh, it's good for young people to have some drive."
Boss Kobayashi smiled and handed over two heavy waterproof aprons.
"All right, put these on and get started! Today's main job is loading those crates of northern shrimp over there onto that truck."
"Each crate weighs twenty-five kilos. Be careful not to drop them."
"Twenty-five kilos? Piece of cake!"
Sakuragi took the apron and put it on without a care, eager to begin.
Kawamoto silently put on his apron too, meticulous in his movements.
He walked over to the mountain of shrimp crates, bent down, and exerted his arms, lifting two crates of northern shrimp in one steady motion.
With firm steps, he headed toward the truck parked nearby and began loading it with practiced skill.
"Hmph! What's so great about two crates?"
Sakuragi's competitive spirit instantly flared. He took a deep breath and mustered all his strength.
"Watch this genius!"
He gritted his teeth and heaved, actually hoisting three crates at once!
The seventy-five-kilo load instantly turned his face red with strain, and his steps wavered slightly.
"Oh?!"
Boss Kobayashi and the nearby workers looked over in surprise, not having expected the redheaded boy to be so strong.
But showing off came at a price.
After just two or three trips, Sakuragi felt his arms grow sore, numb, and heavy, as though filled with lead.
His breathing grew rapid, and his back began groaning in protest.
Left with no choice, he tried cutting back to two crates.
But before long, that became too much as well, and he could only carry one crate at a time like the other workers...
Even so, the intense, repetitive physical labor soon left him drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
Kawamoto Kazuki, on the other hand.
From the start until now, he had maintained a steady pace of two crates per trip.
His form never faltered, and his steps remained firm.
Fine beads of sweat covered his forehead, but he was nowhere near as bedraggled as Sakuragi.
Like a tireless precision machine, he worked efficiently and steadily.
As though the heavy burden he carried did not exist at all.
After just over half an hour, Sakuragi felt as though every bone in his body was about to fall apart.
His muscles ached terribly. He dropped onto an empty box nearby, gulping down air, finding even lifting a finger an effort.
Boss Kobayashi smiled and handed him a bottle of chilled mineral water. "Here. Not bad, young man. Lasting over half an hour on your first try at this kind of work-you really are strong."
Sakuragi took the water and gulped down several mouthfuls. The icy sensation temporarily eased some of his exhaustion.
He raised his head, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward Kawamoto Kazuki, who was still hard at work.
Without thinking, he asked, "I... I'm doing all right? Then... what about Kawamoto?"
"Was he like this when he first started too?"
At that question, Boss Kobayashi's smile gradually faded.
He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled, his eyes following Kawamoto's busy yet exceptionally upright figure.
His gaze grew deep and complicated, mingling emotion and heartache.
And an indescribable admiration.
"Kawamoto..."
The boss's voice grew low.
"He's... a very special fellow. He's been working here for several years."
He paused, as though recalling the distant past.
"I remember when he first came. He was quite a bit taller than other kids his age, but his face still looked childish. When I asked his age, he was only eleven."
The boss shook his head. "How could I hire an eleven-year-old under the rules? Besides, this line of work is filthy and exhausting. Plenty of grown men complain endlessly and can't stick it out."
"Naturally, I turned him down."
"But..."
The boss's gaze grew distant. "That boy... was terribly stubborn. He came again and again. He didn't cry or make a fuss, and he didn't pester me. He just stood silently outside the shop watching, or, when I had a moment free, asked me very politely but with extraordinary persistence to give him a job. I kept refusing."
"Later, I just couldn't stop worrying. One day, I secretly followed him to find out why he was so determined."
"I followed him home. It was a very old detached house. I... I heard him talking to his mother."
At this point, Boss Kobayashi's voice audibly caught.
He took a hard drag on his cigarette before he barely managed to steady himself.
Even Sakuragi, sitting beside him, involuntarily held his breath.
"Only then did I learn... his father had died of illness long before. He and his sickly mother had only each other. His mother had a bad heart and needed expensive medication long-term. She couldn't even do slightly strenuous work."
"The meager welfare payments weren't nearly enough to cover their living expenses and medication... That boy, only eleven years old, wanted to use his own young shoulders to hold up that crumbling home, to carry his mother's hope of staying alive..."
The boss's voice was filled with indescribable heartache and sorrow.
Hanamichi Sakuragi's eyes widened. His nose suddenly stung, and his heart felt as though an invisible hand had gripped it tight.
He simply could not imagine it.
That Kawamoto, so mountainously strong and so quiet on the court.
Actually bore such a heavy fate on his back!
"I... back then, I really..."
The boss's voice trembled a little.
"I'm not particularly wealthy, but I really couldn't help taking out some money and pressing it into his hands, telling him to stop thinking about working and go back to his studies."
"But..."
The boss took a deep breath, a complicated light flickering in his eyes. "That boy... Kawamoto... refused."
"He stood perfectly straight, looking at me with those unusually calm eyes, and said, 'Mr. Kobayashi, thank you very much for your kindness. But if possible, what I need more is a steady job.'"
"'Security that comes from charity won't last. I want to support myself and my mother with my own hands.'"
"At that moment..."
The boss's voice was low and firm, filled with boundless admiration.
"The person standing before me wasn't an eleven-year-old child at all!"
"The resolve and responsibility in those eyes, that backbone bent by life yet desperately struggling to straighten..."
"He was a real man!"
"Frail shoulders, yet he was trying to support the heaviest weight in this world..."
The boss's eyes had visibly reddened. He quickly wiped his face, hiding his loss of composure.
"I... I couldn't turn him down anymore. All I could do was give him a job this way, even if it might not comply with the rules, pay him a reasonably fair wage, and occasionally let him take home some unsold fish that was still good to eat... That was probably all I could do."
"At first, he'd work for a little while and become utterly exhausted, his little face deathly pale. It hurt just to watch him. I thought he'd give up soon... but time after time... he proved me wrong."
"He came every day, rain or shine, and kept persevering."
"He grew stronger and stronger, more and more skilled, and his stamina kept improving... until he became what you see now."
Boss Kobayashi looked at Kawamoto's back and spoke with absolute certainty. "As long as this shop stays open, as long as Kawamoto still wants to come, there'll always be a place for him here!"
Hanamichi Sakuragi sat there in a daze. At some point, the water bottle had slipped from his hand, but he was utterly unaware of the water spilling across the ground.
The boss's words were like a heavy key, unlocking every mystery about Kawamoto Kazuki in his heart.
That astonishing strength, that terrifying endurance, that composure far beyond his peers, those eyes always touched with exhaustion, the reason he couldn't attend evening practice, the true ability hidden beneath his clumsy movements...
At this moment, every question had an answer.
That was not talent.
It was the mark left by life tempering him in the cruelest way through countless days and nights.
Sakuragi watched that figure still silently carrying crates, his back drenched in sweat yet his spine straight.
For the first time, he clearly understood.
What lay between him and Kawamoto Kazuki was not merely a gulf in basketball skills.
It was also a life of resilience beyond even the reach of his imagination.