On his first day back with the team, Sakuragi Hanamichi did not join the others for regular practice.
After finishing his warm-ups and a scaled-down version of the standard physical conditioning, Sakuragi went back to basics, practicing his fundamentals alone in a corner just as he had when he first learned basketball.
The difference this time was that he didn't utter a single complaint, diligently working through his basic dribbling drills.
"Sakuragi, don't rush," Haruko Akagi said, standing in for Ayako to supervise his practice. Judging by the folder in her hands, she must have brought a series of recovery training plans. "The coach already said your return should be step-by-step. I'm sure that with your talent, you'll be back in games in no time."
Encouraged by Haruko's pep talk, Sakuragi instantly beamed with energy. "Don't worry, Miss Haruko, genius Sakuragi won't be knocked down that easily!"
Sakuragi's changes weren't limited to his attitude toward fundamentals; an even bigger change was that he no longer blushed when talking to Haruko. In the past, having Haruko stand right beside him to supervise would have made his heart race wildly, sending his dribbling into a frantic blur.
Yet now, Sakuragi's movements remained completely steady while speaking to her.
In fact, even as he spoke to Haruko, his eyes drifted toward his teammates practicing their coordination on the court.
Truth be told, Sakuragi hadn't even realized that his gaze was actually following Rukawa's movements.
Yes, he was only watching the fox.
Sakuragi was hardly a beginner anymore; he was a player who had competed on the national stage.
His sharp basketball instincts quickly told him that the fox was no longer the same fox.
In the past, the fox had been fast, playing with flashy moves just to show off.
But now, Sakuragi could clearly feel that Rukawa's style had changed—it was far more aggressive. Many of the overly complicated moves had been streamlined, his ways of getting past defenders had become more varied, and he had even started shooting three-pointers.
His accuracy still left a bit to be desired, though.
This transformation in Rukawa proved to be a massive stimulus for Sakuragi.
It was as if Rukawa had set up a marker for him to chase, and just when Sakuragi had strained every last muscle to finally close the gap a little, he suddenly discovered that the marker itself was also speeding ahead.
Sakuragi felt like tearing his hair out: how on earth was he supposed to catch up to that?!
As his mind went into a frenzy, his hands slipped out of rhythm, turning his regular dribbling into an erratic mess.
*Smack!* A paper fan came down squarely on Sakuragi's head.
His basketball bounced away with a dull thud.
Sakuragi clutched his head with both hands, his face scrunched up into a pitiful frown as he whined, "Ayako, you hit me the second I get back."
"Look at you, spacing out during fundamental drills. If I don't hit you, who am I supposed to hit?" Ayako remained as full of energy as ever.
Sakuragi pouted like he was throwing a tantrum. "I know I was wrong, okay? Stop hitting me, it hurts."
Haruko stepped in as a peacemaker, her face all smiles. "Right, right, Senior, Sakuragi knows he was wrong. I'll keep a close eye on him from now on, so don't worry. We'll practice hard, won't we, Sakuragi?"
Watching the two first-years nod in perfect unison with identical guarantees, Ayako finally let them off the hook and turned to attend to other matters.
Sakuragi breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at Haruko. "Thanks, Miss Haruko."
"Sakuragi, you're just too important to the Shohoku Team. Everyone's hoping you can get back on the court as soon as possible, so you have to do your best!"
Sakuragi nodded like a woodpecker, then hurried off to retrieve his ball and resume practice.
After picking up the ball, he looked up to see Rukawa standing in the center of the court, halting his practice to quietly watch him.
Sakuragi shivered twice, muttering to himself: *Why does the fox seem even scarier than Ayako? This is way too weird.*
As team practice neared its end, Coach Anzai appeared.
"Ho ho ho, everyone is working very hard."
Seeing Anzai, Sakuragi immediately stopped, hugged his ball, and bounded over with heavy *thud-thud-thud* steps. Instead of his usual brashness of grabbing the coach's chin and belly, he gave a polite bow. "Old man, I'm back."
"Ah, Sakuragi. Ho ho ho, you're back? That's wonderful."
"Yeah, old man, I'm practicing my fundamentals."
Anzai nodded approvingly. "Mm-hmm, very good. Complete your recovery training according to the plan Akagi has. Don't rush; you still have a very long basketball career ahead of you."
Sakuragi obediently promised, "Got it, old man."
When club activities ended, the first-years stayed behind to clean up the court, as per tradition.
As Sakuragi collected the basketballs, he found himself wondering.
Right before leaving, Anzai had told him: "Rukawa said he'll take charge of helping you improve your skills from now on, so Sakuragi should study hard under him."
So, did the fox saying he wanted to help have anything to do with that bento at lunch?
After everyone else had left for the day, only Rukawa and Sakuragi remained in the gym.
Sakuragi hugged a basketball, standing at full attention and waiting for Rukawa to start his lesson.
Rukawa wiped the sweat from his temples with his collar and said, "Go change your clothes."
"Huh? Aren't we going to keep practicing?"
Rukawa replied as he walked away without looking back. "Change first. No scrimmage today."
The last time Sakuragi had been in the special video screening room approved for the basketball team was back during his twenty-thousand-shot training, several months ago.
Rukawa led him inside, took a sip of water, and slid a videotape into the player. "These are some scrimmage tapes from the youth training camp. Watch these first."
"Hey! Fox, you said you were going to teach me how to play, and it turns out you're just making me watch videos? That's way too half-assed!" Sakuragi felt like he was getting conned.
"Big Idiot! These are some of the best high school players in Japan, and their goal is to train for professional teams. Do you really think this kind of footage is half-assed?" Rukawa said coldly.
Feeling slightly in the wrong, but refusing to lose face, Sakuragi stiffened his neck and retorted, "If just watching videos worked, what would we even need a coach for!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Sakuragi praised himself inwardly: *That was a brilliant comeback.*
Sure enough, upon hearing this, Rukawa's demeanor softened a fraction. He calmly replied, "I'm not having you watch it alone. I'll explain it to you."
The fox's attitude was so unusually nice that it felt entirely unreal. Sakuragi felt a sudden urge to reach out and check Rukawa's forehead to see if his temperature was normal.
"Look, this team's offense is extremely fierce. This small forward is faster than Miyagi, and his dribbling speed is about the same as my sprint. But why are they still falling behind in the score?" Rukawa gave a live commentary.
Sakuragi stroked his chin, watched two possessions, and said, "The opponents' defense is too fierce, and their interior is too strong. No matter how fast a small forward is, he can't break through."
"That's right. Even a high-level small forward struggles without interior support." Rukawa waited a moment until the next play appeared before continuing. "Watch this coordination closely."
The blue team's number 15 small forward dribbled into the paint, preparing to jump and shoot, when the white team's power forward came to block him. Unexpectedly, the blue team's number 13 power forward stepped in to screen the defender, allowing the blue number 15 to take the shot. *Swish.*
"Did you understand that kind of coordination?"
Sakuragi blinked, looking a bit blank. "What kind of coordination? Where was the coordination?"
Rukawa sighed, clenched his fists for a second, and then relaxed them. He rewound the tape a bit, replaying the previous scene while pointing at the blue small forward's actions. "This is a type of coordination called a pick-and-roll. It's when the power forward blocks the opponent's defensive player to give the small forward a chance to drive to the basket. Understand?"
Sakuragi's mouth formed a round "O": "So that's a pick-and-roll? I remember now—while I was at the sanitarium, Miss Haruko brought me the video of the Sannoh match, and the Gorilla and Mitsui Hisashi used that kind of coordination too, right?"
Sakuragi looked at Rukawa as if fishing for praise, his eyes sparkling so brightly that Rukawa momentarily lost his focus.
After a brief pause, Rukawa said, "Yes, that's the kind of coordination. Let's keep watching."
Next, Sakuragi received a thoroughly practical, live-action lesson on team coordination.
Rukawa, usually so sparing with his words, was on fire today, explaining things to him for over an hour. Because of this, Sakuragi learned many collaborative plays—some of which he had actually used on the court before, like the alley-oop, a trick he and Ryota had pulled off together. As for interior-exterior passing, help-defense, and rotation defense, those were brand new lessons for today.
After finishing the tape, Sakuragi suddenly remembered something. "Fox, why did every single kind of coordination you wanted to talk about happen to be in this exact game?"
Rukawa was packing up the videotapes and answered with his back turned, "Big Idiot, why else do you think I specifically picked this match for you to watch? Such an idiot!"
This time, Sakuragi was somewhat flattered. "Fox, why are you suddenly being so, so... how should I put it? Anyway, you're acting super weird."
Ignoring him, Rukawa put the tape back into his bag, turned off the projector, and shouldered his backpack to leave.
Fearing that he would run off, Sakuragi grabbed his own bag and trotted closely behind him. "Hey, Fox, are you actually going to teach me? Aren't you afraid I'll learn it and beat you?"
Rukawa walked fast, but spoke at a leisurely pace. "Big Idiot, at your level, beating me before high school ends is impossible."
Annoyed, Sakuragi reached out to grab Rukawa, only to catch the strap of his backpack instead. Looking rather miffed, he said, "Fox, stop looking down on me. I'm a genius, and I'll beat you one day."
Rukawa stopped, turned around to look at the hand gripping his bag strap, and then looked at Sakuragi. He had a vague feeling that this whole scene was somehow weird, though he couldn't pin down why. Calmly, he said, "Big Idiot, basketball isn't played by just one person; it's played by a team of five. I used to think that being strong enough meant I could win every game, but I was wrong. Captain Akagi has left the team—should Shohoku still make national dominance our goal?"
Sakuragi nodded fiercely. "Of course. I'm going to take the national championship!"
"That's why the team needs coordination. Big Idiot, you—the power forward—need to learn how to play in sync with me. Only then will we have a chance at national dominance now that we're missing Captain Akagi in the paint. Did you hear what I said?"