A light rain silently enveloped the quiet residential area around Matsukaze Town.
In stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the city, here you can only hear the rustling of raindrops hitting the leaves.
A sprawling mansion, surrounded by a Japanese-style courtyard, stood quietly in the rainy night.
This is the home of Coach Mitsuyoshi Anzai.
Passing through the imposing black pine gate, huge stone lanterns stand silently in the rain, reflecting the graceful curves of the pine and cypress trees.
Walking along the bluestone path that shines after being washed by the rain, you'll see meticulously maintained dry landscape gardens on both sides.
Raindrops dripped down the wide eaves, creating tiny ripples in the carefully arranged foyer.
Even in the darkness and rain, its elegance is still evident.
The entire residence exudes an understated yet pervasive sense of immense wealth and refined taste.
Inside, the warm interior is bathed in soft light.
Mitsuyoshi Anzai had changed into comfortable home clothes and was kneeling opposite his wife, Michiko Anzai, in front of a low cypress table.
An exquisite Japanese tea set was laid out on the table.
A wisp of steam rose from the spout of the teapot, and the sweet aroma of [ Tsuruya Yoshinobu ] fruit and yokan (sweet bean jelly) wafted from several small dishes beside it.
The gentle sound of rain outside the window only enhanced the peaceful and comfortable atmosphere inside.
" Michiko..."
Anzai picked up the thin-walled porcelain cup and gently blew on the tea foam.
There's something I'd like to discuss with you.
Michiko Anzai looked up.
She is a woman of gentle and elegant temperament. Although time has left its mark on her face, it has only added to her composure and wisdom.
She smiled at her husband, " Mitsuyoshi, it's rare to see you discussing things so seriously at home. Is it about the team?"
"Um."
Anzai nodded. "We won today's game, and I also chatted with Kawasaki, that kid Kazumi Kawasaki. He's now the coach of the Tsukubu Basketball Team."
"Really? That's amazing."
"Yeah, I think Shohoku really has a chance, and a need, to go further. And not just in the high school league."
"The team's kids have great potential, but their fundamentals, especially in scientific training and physical nutrition, are still weak. I'd like to purchase more professional training equipment for the basketball department in my own name."
"In addition, we will hire a professional sports nutritionist on a long-term basis to customize diets for the team members, ensuring they have sufficient nutritional support after high-intensity training and competitions."
After he finished speaking, he looked at his wife and added, "This could be a significant ongoing expense. Equipment, venue renovations, staff salaries... I'd like to hear your opinion."
Michiko Anzai listened quietly, a gentle smile always on her face.
After her husband finished speaking, she didn't immediately answer the budget question. Instead, she reached for the teapot and refilled Anzai's half-empty cup with hot water.
Her voice was gentle, with a hint of teasing. "You, haven't you noticed the financial reports that Anzai Fried Chicken sends to your study every quarter?"
"Um?"
Anzai paused for a moment, then touched his smooth chin somewhat embarrassedly.
"Well... I don't really pay attention to these things. How's business...?"
Since the incident with Yazawa, he has become indifferent not only to basketball but also to everything else in the outside world.
The family's side business, a chain of fried chicken restaurants, has always been managed by his capable wife and a professional management team.
"It's more than just okay."
Michiko Anzai chuckled softly, her eyes crinkling with delight. "You were truly prescient back then, deciding to open your first store based on your dream of letting the Japan also try American fast food."
"With the current economic downturn, people are more cautious about dining out, but our affordable, quick-service, and consistently delicious fried chicken is actually more popular than those high-end restaurants. We have over thirty branches in the Kanto region alone, and business is booming. This quarter's profits have increased by 15% compared to the last quarter."
Seeing her husband's somewhat surprised expression, she smiled even more, "So the expenses you mentioned for equipment and nutritionists are nothing to our family. Even if you wanted to renovate the entire gymnasium at Kanagawa High School, the money would be more than enough."
Anzai blinked, clearly having gained a new understanding of his family's financial resources. He muttered, "I see... fried chicken... is it that popular...?"
"So you don't need to worry about money at all."
Michiko Anzai's smile faded, "Compared to you, Mitsuyoshi, I prefer you the way you are now."
"Um?"
"The light is back in her eyes."
Michiko spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the rainy night.
"It's not like it was a few years ago. Although you always smile, it's as if there's a thick layer of ice covering your heart. You have no enthusiasm for anything, and you just mechanically go to school, go home, and stare blankly at your teacup. It breaks my heart to see that."
She reached out and gently placed her hand on Anzai's hand, which was resting on the table. "But things are different now. You worry about the team's equipment, you seriously plan for the children's future, and you tell me you want them to go further."
"This passion, as if he's twenty years younger, reminds me of the handsome Mitsuyoshi Anzai who once dominated the basketball court, his eyes lighting up whenever basketball was mentioned."
Anzai blushed slightly at his wife's words and instinctively tried to pull his hand away, but she gently held it.
He muttered to himself, "Me... handsome? I'm just a short guy who plays basketball..."
"Of course he was handsome."
Michiko said firmly, her eyes filled with the sweetness of memories.
"In my heart, it always has been. And it is even more so now."
Anzai looked up and took his wife's hand in his own, his grip light but filled with unspoken dependence.
Thank you, Michiko.
He said in a low voice.
Michiko smiled, and with her other free hand, she grasped his broad palm.
"Go do what you want to do, Mitsuyoshi. Doesn't it sound interesting to use the money you earn from your dreams to support the dreams of children?"
Kawamoto Kazuki had just finished washing a mountain of dishes in the restaurant kitchen when he rushed to the convenience store to take over the night shift.
Manager Fujiwara briefly confirmed with Kawamoto the need to replenish shelves and pay attention to near-expiry products before leaving.
Just after nine o'clock, the automatic door slid open with a ding.
Welcome!
A professional woman who looked to be in her thirties with slightly disheveled hair hurried in.
She bowed slightly to Kawamoto and then rushed straight to the refrigerated ready-to-eat section, her face still showing signs of fatigue from work.
"Huh?"
She let out a soft sigh of disappointment, bent down, and carefully examined the shelves that were clearly more than half empty.
She turned to look at Kawamoto, her tone tinged with confusion and a hint of resentment. "Um... buddy, is all the sashimi that was 50% off today sold out?"
She specifically emphasized the 50% discount.
That's a discount on fresh food offered after 8 p. m., which is a target for many thrifty housewives and working people who come home late.
"I'm so sorry, sir. Due to the approaching typhoon, the supply of fresh ingredients is less than usual today. It seems that sashimi was already sold out by noon. I'm truly sorry."
"I see... a typhoon..."
The woman's anxious expression faded, replaced by understanding and resignation.
She sighed and lingered in the ready-to-eat section for a moment longer.
He glanced at the few remaining rice balls, which were of mediocre quality, and finally shook his head.
She turned and walked to the instant noodle shelf, grabbed two cups of the cheapest bucket-sized soy sauce ramen, and also a small bag of ham sausages.
That's all.
Her voice was somewhat low.
"Okay, that's 980 yen in total. Would you like some brewed?"
Kawamoto skillfully scanned the QR code and asked a question.
"No need, thank you."
The woman paid and muttered something under her breath.
"It would be great if we could book in advance."
After saying that, he pushed open the door and walked into the rain.
The automatic door had just closed when it dinged again.
A man with a mustache wearing Shohoku high school uniform walked in.