We were both poaching players, so how come I ended up with Tatsumasa Oda...
While you went and picked up an absolute treasure!
Coach Anzai smiled faintly. "Oh, you mean Shirasawa. You probably didn't follow the junior high league very closely. He was a member of this year's championship team, Yokota."
"Only, his total playing time was in the finals... all of fifty seconds."
It had to be said, Coach Anzai had really nailed that humblebrag.
I'd recruited a player who had only appeared for fifty seconds, and you hadn't.
By the time you realized he was a genius, it would already be too late.
Takezono's coach escorted the Shohoku group all the way to the school gates before leaving, observing all the proper courtesies.
Even by the time they left the school, Sakuragi hadn't caught another glimpse of Yoko, and he couldn't help feeling a little deflated.
According to Shirasawa, he had completed the first step. He really had beaten Oda thoroughly today!
Both one-on-one and as a team!
But the second step, winning Yoko back...
That didn't seem quite so simple...
Outside the school gates, Coach Anzai dismissed everyone on the spot.
They had all worked hard today, and the afternoon was theirs.
The players cheered and scattered.
Ayako, however, stopped Shirasawa and asked him to help carry the miscellaneous game supplies back to school.
Shirasawa readily agreed.
He didn't have anything to do that afternoon anyway. Wasn't having Ayako along just perfect?
There wasn't actually much, just two bags.
Shirasawa picked them up, and Ayako even gave his arm an encouraging pat.
The two walked off, chatting and laughing.
Ayako walked with her hands behind her back, her steps light and her manner cheerful.
How was this carrying supplies? It looked no different from a date!
Miyagi smiled easily. He had long since let go of his feelings for Ayako, and now he only had eyes for Rena.
He turned around and bumped straight into Sakuragi.
"Hey, watch where you're going!"
But after saying that, Miyagi noticed that Sakuragi wasn't making a fuss like usual.
Instead, he looked listless, as if his soul had left his body.
He knew that expression all too well!
"Sakuragi, don't tell me you're having girl trouble?"
Hanamichi Sakuragi froze. "How did you know?"
Hanamichi Sakuragi and Ryota Miyagi sat side by side on a bench in a small park, their backs looking rather forlorn.
The two counted off their "glorious" histories on their fingers...
One had been rejected by girls fifty times, the other twenty.
That shared sore spot was like an invisible rope, tying the two together.
Neither of them had any business sharing expertise or offering advice...
At most, they had found a fellow sufferer and were keeping each other warm.
Hanamichi Sakuragi poured out all his frustrations to Miyagi.
He told him everything, from the first time he met Yoko to the end of their game against Takezono just now.
"That Oda is a total bastard! Sakuragi, how about we go back and beat him up again?"
Miyagi clenched his fists in agitation, instantly empathizing with what Yoko had gone through.
But he immediately rejected his own idea.
"No, no, we can't beat him up now. A creep like that is sneaky. He might spread it around."
"We could both end up suspended from games."
"That son of a bitch!"
Hanamichi Sakuragi gritted his teeth bitterly too. "Exactly, the dirty bastard!"
After a brief silence, Hanamichi Sakuragi suddenly asked curiously, "What about you, Miyagi? When are you going to confess to that Rena girl?"
Miyagi sighed, torn between hope and fear.
He had genuinely fallen for Rena, and they had met once since he left the hospital, but they were even less comfortable together than they had been at the hospital.
They either talked about his recovery or exchanged bland pleasantries, leaving both of them rather awkward.
Miyagi couldn't figure out what Rena was thinking either. He felt as if she liked him a little, but she hadn't given him any clear indication.
As for speaking up himself, he was a little scared...
He feared that once he said it, even their current contact would disappear.
That was hardly surprising. Twenty straight rejections would leave anyone with a few psychological scars.
Oh, right, except a single-celled organism like Hanamichi Sakuragi.
Otherwise, he couldn't have racked up that terrifying record of fifty...
Miyagi believed that, without this business with Yoko, Sakuragi would already have secured his fifty-first failure.
After hearing Miyagi's troubles, Sakuragi stroked his chin and sank into thought.
After quite a while, he suddenly slapped his thigh and grinned. "That's it!"
"I'm telling you, Xiao Bai is an expert at this! Yoko and I only got this far because of his ideas!"
"Go ask Xiao Bai. He'll definitely have a solution!"
With his lack of romantic experience, Miyagi had finally found a lifeline.
What was Shirasawa best at?
Assists, of course!
Only this time, he would have to swap the basketball for a living person...
"You're right, Sakuragi! I'll ask Xiao Bai for some pointers tomorrow!"
Friendship between men could sometimes develop remarkably quickly. A shared interest or a common goal could have them throwing arms around each other's shoulders and calling each other brothers in no time.
Just like Sakuragi and Miyagi now. They had disliked each other before, but now there was a sense of shared misfortune between them.
By the time Shirasawa and Ayako returned to Shohoku and put everything away, it was already afternoon.
They had chatted so happily along the way that they had completely forgotten about eating.
Only after they left the school gates and someone's stomach let out a growl did they realize they hadn't even had lunch.
Ayako was doing all right. One look at her impeccably proportioned figure made it clear that she was disciplined and exercised regularly.
Hunger didn't hit her quite so hard.
Shirasawa was a different story. After playing an entire game, he had long since used up most of his energy. Now he was so hungry his stomach felt stuck to his spine, and everything looked edible.
Still, at least his reason remained intact.
In the end, he suggested finding somewhere to fill their stomachs first.
So they picked a noodle shop at random along the street and ducked inside.
As they ate, Ayako's appetite proved much as Shirasawa had expected. She put down her chopsticks after barely half a small bowl of noodles.
She simply sat across from him, watching him wolf down his food.
"Xiao Bai, aren't you afraid of getting fat, eating like that? How do you stay in shape?"
Indeed, Shirasawa's muscles were well-defined, firm, and evenly developed. However you looked at him, he seemed carefully trained.
Yet now, he turned down none of the carbs, fried food, or soda in front of him, relishing every bite.
Ayako, who maintained her figure through constant self-restraint, couldn't help feeling a little envious.
Shirasawa swallowed his noodles and smiled.
"As the old saying goes, smoking trains your lungs, drinking trains your stomach, and fighting trains everything."
"As for me... maybe I used to put a little too much effort into the 'everything' part."
His twisted logic made Ayako laugh.
"By that logic, you should be the kind of person who likes taking the initiative."
She followed up naturally, curiosity in her voice.
"So why don't you like attacking when you play basketball? Whether it's team practice or this morning's practice game, I've never seen you take a single shot. Why is that?"
Ayako finally voiced the question she had been holding back for quite a while. In fact, she was far from the only person on Shohoku wondering about it.
It was just that whenever Shirasawa took the court, his unpredictable passes were so eye-catching that everyone was too busy cheering to look deeper.
When they remembered afterward, they supplied their own explanation: he probably didn't think it was necessary.
Besides, Shirasawa's assists really did help them score. Having benefited already, who could shamelessly keep asking, "Why are you letting me benefit?"
Only Ayako, both the team manager and someone fairly close to Shirasawa, could ask him directly.
But Shirasawa's answer was utterly casual.
Much as everyone had guessed, he simply said, "There's no need."
Of course, that "no need" was the truth.
For Shirasawa right now, assists were the foundation of his growth, and that was enough.
Besides, his previous offensive ability... really hadn't been much to show off.
What could he do with 60 points in shooting and 70 in dribbling?
Nothing but throw up a few airballs and commit a few turnovers. There was really no need to embarrass himself and ruin his image.
After all, he could farm 37 ability points from a single game like today's. Once he had time to allocate them properly, many problems would naturally resolve themselves.
At this rate, everything would fall into place after a few more games.
He wouldn't fight an unprepared battle. Either he kept his weapon hidden, or he made an impact when he drew it.
They finished their meal amid chatting and laughter. Shirasawa had a little more money to spare now, so paying the bill was nothing.
He paid naturally, and the two left the noodle shop together.
They had barely taken a few steps outside when a group came swaggering toward them.
Every one of them had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, a bizarre hairstyle, and conspicuously dense tattoos.
Ayako instinctively shrank behind Shirasawa.
But with her height and figure, the group had noticed her the moment she left the noodle shop.
There was no helping it. Her outfit really did pack quite a punch.
Fortunately, Shirasawa stood beside her. Rather than shrinking away, he raised his eyes to meet them, his presence quietly gathering force.
That made Ayako feel considerably safer.
In the end, the group didn't do anything. They merely looked Ayako up and down a few extra times as they passed, then walked past Shirasawa, laughing and joking.
Just then, one of them casually tossed his cigarette onto the ground.
Shirasawa saw it clearly. That cigarette... hadn't been lit at all.
He couldn't help frowning slightly.
"Was that... Hisashi Mitsui?"
How could Shirasawa not recognize the famous Hisashi Mitsui?
He had looked familiar at first glance, but his long hair half covered his face, making it hard to get a clear look.
Only when the other boy passed him did Shirasawa confirm that he hadn't been mistaken.
It was Hisashi Mitsui, all right.
After fighting Miyagi, both had ended up in the hospital. Miyagi was now lively enough to play a game.
But the Mitsui before him still looked a little weak.
It seemed Mitsui really was somewhat lacking in physical fitness.
Still, he seemed to be holding on to a little something.
At least he didn't smoke.
The cigarette he had just thrown away was the best proof.
In that sort of crowd, his buddies often offered him cigarettes. Refusing would make things awkward, but Mitsui always found a chance to throw them away secretly.
Strangely enough, he had never been beaten up for it.
Most likely, he was relying on the lingering clout of that big brother of his.
After walking some distance, Mitsui glanced back, seemingly casually, his gaze sweeping over Shirasawa.
His eyes held contempt, provocation, and a trace of indescribable envy, a complicated mixture.
Ayako patted her chest and let out a long breath. "Those guys looked really scary. Good thing you were here today."
As she spoke, she rested her hand naturally on Shirasawa's shoulder, her face at ease.
Shirasawa merely smiled, his words carrying another meaning. "People who look fierce aren't necessarily bad, and people who look refined aren't necessarily good."
Before Ayako could figure out what he meant, he took hold of the hand on his shoulder.
Shirasawa gently lowered her hand. "Let's go."
Her hand whipped back as though she had received an electric shock.