My name is Hisashi Mitsui.
People often say that the greatest pain in life is not not getting what you want, but being so close to it.
So close that you can see its outline...
So close I could hear it breathing...
So close it seemed almost within reach...
Then fate smiles and pulls it out of your bones...
When I chose Shohoku, everyone said I was crazy.
Perhaps...
It all started that afternoon during the finals of the junior high school county competition.
Sometimes I think about it.
If it weren't for that match, if that old man hadn't said those words to me, where would my life have led?
The time on the scoreboard was as relentless as quicksand, with only 12 seconds left.
Yokota Junior High 53:52 Takeishi Junior High.
What a ridiculous point.
However, that one point difference was like a gaping canyon, blocking my path to victory.
With only 9 seconds left in the game, the basketball went out of bounds.
I collapsed to my knees on the cold floor, sweat mingling with despair streaming into my eyes.
The deafening cheers of the opposing fans celebrating prematurely filled my ears.
It was the resigned sobs of his teammates.
Right at that time.
I heard a voice coming from the guest area that I had bumped into.
I suddenly looked up.
An elderly man with white hair and a slightly plump build stood in front of me, holding a basketball in one hand.
He was wearing a khaki suit, and his gaze behind his glasses showed neither pity nor impatience.
"Even at the very end, we must not lose hope."
His voice wasn't loud, yet it miraculously drowned out all the noise.
"If you give up, the match ends here."
At that moment, all my weariness and fear were swept away by this unreasonable, intense heat.
That sentence wasn't encouragement to me, it was a pardon!
It's not just comfort, it's empowerment!
It absolved me of that momentary weakness.
It gave me the courage to fight to the last second.
I don't even remember how I got up.
All I remember is something exploding inside my body.
I rushed out, stealing the ball and running like a madman, my eyes fixed on Yokota's violently shaking basketball hoop.
With a final second remaining, the ball was released, its arc so high it seemed to be trying to break free from the stadium roof.
When the sound of the webpage being refreshed began, the world fell silent.
Then came an explosive cheer.
I was swallowed up by the sea of people.
The MVP trophy was shoved into his arms.
But I was frantically searching, searching for that white figure.
He was still there, and nodded slightly to me.
Later I learned that his name was Mitsuyoshi Anzai, and he was the coach of the Shohoku Basketball Team.
From that moment on...
How dazzling is Kainan's ever-victorious banner...
How spacious is the gymnasium in Shoyo...
None of this concerns me.
Akagi later asked me countless times, with a tone mixed with envy and incomprehension, "Why didn't you go to Kainan? Why didn't you go to Shoyo?"
I did not answer.
I couldn't explain it to him.
When a single sentence pulled me out of the abyss...
After my basketball life was revitalized by a voice...
I can no longer find a place to belong elsewhere.
The Shohoku basketball court was dim, ordinary, and empty.
But he was there.
So I turned down invitations from Kainan and Shoyo, and headed towards Shohoku with my past and future in tow.
Heading towards where he was.
I thought this was the most solemn reward I could give him for that rescue.
I thought this was a continuation of the story, the beginning of a legend.
I stood in the middle of the stadium and roared my vow to lead Shohoku to national domination.
The sound was so loud that even my own ears were ringing.
Actually, those words were meant for him.
I'd trade my entire future for just one sentence from him.
"Oh? Then let's give it a try."
But he didn't.
I arrive earliest and leave latest every day.
The sound of the ball going through the net was the promise I made to him.
I ran and jumped as fast as I could...
In practice matches, no matter how many players are on the other side, I will do everything I can to get past them and then go for a layup.
Even though I'm in pain after every fall, I immediately get up and pretend nothing's wrong.
Every time I scored a beautiful goal, I would casually glance towards the sidelines.
He didn't even glance at me; he simply picked up the cup and gently blew on it.
The hissing sound from the scalding hot tea sounded just like the sound of cold water being poured onto a red-hot iron.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm simply not good enough.
Is it true that in his eyes, my life's gamble is less valuable than a cup of steeped goji berries?
At the very least, goji berries can make water taste better.
I burned myself out, yet I couldn't even earn a sliver of his gaze behind his glasses.
Then...
My knee was shattered due to excessive training.
It was a crisp sound, like something inside my heart shattering along with it.
The ambulance took me away.
I lay in the hospital, staring at the stark white ceiling.
At this point, I was still waiting.
Wait for him...
Even if it's just asking someone to pass on a message.
"Focus on recovering. Shohoku is waiting for you. I'm waiting for you!"
No phone calls, no messages, nothing.
Aside from Kiminobu Kogure visiting once.
The nights in the hospital are so long.
It's long enough for me to dissect and analyze every single frame of the past.
I chew on it repeatedly during every sleepless night when the pain keeps me awake.
It chewed until it had no taste at all.
How ridiculous! It turns out it was all just wishful thinking on my part from beginning to end.
At that moment, I secretly vowed that I would never play basketball again!
On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I stood at the gate of Shohoku School, and my feet unconsciously led me to the outside of the gymnasium.
My knee no longer hurts; it's recovering very well.
The wind was strong, making my eyes sting.
The stadium doors opened and closed, closed and opened again.
Many people came out, and many people went in.
I stood there until it was completely dark, and one by one the lights at the entrance came on.
You're out.
Our eyes met.
That's what I thought at the time.
Really, no hugs, no encouragement, no promises are needed.
As long as you say, "Mitsui, come back, Shohoku needs you."
As long as you give this arrogant, foolish man a way to humble himself.
No, no reason needed.
Even just a nod...
No.
No need to nod.
Just look at me with joy and hope.
Take a look at this idiot who trained like a madman to lead Shohoku to national domination, even breaking his knee!
I'll go back.
Even if it means crawling, we'll crawl back!
You don't.
You turned and left.
The way they looked at me was as if I were a stranger.
I threw the MVP trophy in the trash and stuffed the team jersey into the bottom of my closet.
I started growing my hair long so it would cover my eyes.
I wander the streets, flashing my teeth at everyone who looks at me.
I said I hate basketball.
He spoke through gritted teeth, but a voice inside him whispered a question.
Do you hate basketball?
Then why do you always go to the street corner basketball court on rainy days and stay there alone until you're soaked to the bone?
Why do my feet freeze in place when I hear the sound of a dribbling ball?
Why do I always dream of shooting hoops, and behind the basket, there's always that shadow holding a thermos?
When no one was around, I cried like a stray dog.
What I've never wanted is to dominate the entire country.
It's not just an empty title like MVP.
All I want is for you to reach out and help me up when I fall.
When I had doubts, you told me I could.
When I approach you with a heart burning with passion, don't let it slowly cool down in the steam of your thermos.
But you didn't.
Not even once.
Now I stand here, looking at this first-year student from Shohoku named Kawamoto, and I've said what I wanted to say to you.
Because I dare not face you, dare not face Akagi, Kogure, and every member of the Shohoku who has appeared in my past life.
My hair has grown long, my bones have hardened, and my heart has become rougher.
But some things, they didn't die.
It just curled up in the deepest wound, occasionally twitching.
It turns out that the greatest pain for people is not loss.
Instead, it's that you still love it, but you no longer have the right or the reason to go to that place you once looked up to with your entire youth.
Just once.