The national tournament match against Sannoh was over.
Once the hospital room grew quiet, Sakuragi Hanamichi felt a sharp, intense pain radiating from the surgical incision on his lower back.
Right after the game against Sannoh, he had briefly believed he would never stand on a basketball court again.
When, enveloped in that bleak despair, he heard the doctor say that as long as he rested and did proper rehabilitation, he could return to the court, Sakuragi Hanamichi had almost burst into tears right then and there.
His teammates, along with former rivals who had come to Hiroshima to watch the games, paraded in and out of his room like a revolving door.
Lying flat on his stomach, unable to move, Sakuragi Hanamichi noticed among all the people coming and going that Rukawa Kaede had not shown up even once from start to finish.
Damn fox!
The rest of the team had to return to Kanagawa on schedule, but Sakuragi Hanamichi could not travel yet. It would take a week before he could be transferred to another hospital, and someone had to stay behind to look after him.
The Sakuragi Legion volunteered immediately, and Miyagi and Mitsui also vied for the spot.
In the end, Yohei stayed.
When everyone else left for the station, Yohei went along to see Takamiya and the others off, leaving Sakuragi alone to bury his face in the pillow and endure the waves of pain shooting through his back.
The patient-controlled analgesia pump was right in his hand, but he hadn't used it even once.
The doctor had said that using too much painkiller could cause side effects for an athlete.
Sakuragi couldn't remember the specifics of the explanation, but he firmly remembered the part about side effects.
So, whenever he could bear it, he clenched his teeth and gritted it out.
And it really hurt!
Sweat beaded on Sakuragi's forehead and the back of his neck, and his body trembled slightly.
Suddenly, a towel began wiping his neck and arms.
It must be Yohei coming back, Sakuragi thought.
The towel moved up to wipe his head as well.
Once the sweat was wiped away, the pain seemed to lessen a bit.
Without lifting his head, Sakuragi mumbled into the pillow, "Yohei, you're back?"
The towel stopped moving.
After a moment, footsteps echoed as someone left the room.
Dozily, Sakuragi felt like sleeping.
I don't know how much time passed, but when Sakuragi felt like he had woken up from a nap, the door opened again, and Yohei's voice drifted in: "I'm back! Hanamichi, do you want some water or need to use the restroom or anything?"
Turning his head to the side, Sakuragi looked at him. "No."
Yohei sat down and chugged half a bottle of water. "It's so hot outside. Shohoku almost missed the train just now."
"Why?"
"Rukawa Kaede disappeared. Everyone was running around looking for him."
"Huh?" Startled, Sakuragi almost sat straight up.
With quick reflexes, Yohei reached out and pressed him back down. "Take it easy. He made it in the end, just barely missing the train by a hair."
Sakuragi blinked. A bold yet bizarre suspicion floated into his mind, but he quickly shook his head. How could it possibly be that fox?
A week later, under Coach Anzai's arrangements, Sakuragi was transferred to a sanatorium on the Shonan coast.
Back in Kanagawa, the stream of visitors was even more exaggerated.
People came endlessly every day until the sanatorium finally issued strict limits on the number of visitors and visiting hours, and only then did things slowly quiet down.
The sanatorium didn't require a constant companion, so Yohei dropped by every two or three days, bringing this or that for Sakuragi.
Sometimes he came with the Sakuragi Legion, and sometimes with Miss Haruko.
He always seemed to run into different people.
Another week passed.
Sakuragi noticed that almost everyone he knew from the various high schools in Kanagawa had visited—except for Rukawa Kaede.
That damned fox!
While Yohei was helping Sakuragi tidy up the pile of gifts that took up half the room, he discovered quite a few basketball magazines. Sorting through them, he said, "The basketball team actually has such a complete collection of basketball magazines? They're translated versions, too, and all the issues are consecutive. I always thought the club budget was tight?"
Flipping through one of the magazines, Sakuragi didn't even lift his eyelids. "They weren't brought by the Shohoku Team. Miss Haruko even asked me about it the other day."
"Then where did these books come from?"
Sakuragi turned a page. "That wild monkey and the old man both came by. Could it be them?"
As soon as he said it, he shook his head. "Our relationship isn't that good."
Closing the book, Sakuragi began counting on his fingers. "Who else could it be? Ryonan? Spiky head? No way, no way. Could it be Hikonei? After all, his older sister works at a newspaper office."
Yohei looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. "You mean that kid from Ryonan who likes to write things down in a notebook? It wouldn't be him. We bumped into each other on the way to the pachinko parlor a couple of days ago, and he even asked about your address and condition, saying he had just gotten back from a trip and would look for a chance to visit you."
Well, this was truly strange.
Where on earth did this huge stack of obviously read magazines come from?
Sakuragi's rehabilitation began.
Having gotten into fights since he was a kid, he had experienced all sorts of pain, so the previous injuries and postoperative aches, though unpleasant, were still bearable.
What he hadn't expected, however, was that the agony of rehabilitation far surpassed the actual injury.
Because Sakuragi discovered that he was utterly unable to perform some extremely simple movements, the mental torment this inflicted on him was beyond imagination.
The blazing little sun visibly withered away.
Dozily drifting off to sleep, Sakuragi vaguely saw a tall, sturdy figure standing by the head of his bed.
When he fully woke up, however, he found no one else in the room besides himself.
If not for the brand-new basketball sitting on the bedside table, he would have sworn the person he saw was just a dream.
Clasping the orange, round object in his arms, Sakuragi felt as though a lifetime had passed.
He couldn't quite remember how long it had been since he last touched a basketball; it felt like a very, very long time.
He cradled the ball against his chest as he lay in bed.
How he wanted to play!
Even though he couldn't get on the court, just holding the ball like this seemed to draw a lot of strength into him.
Sakuragi felt truly fortunate to have formed a bond with this magical sphere.
No, to be precise, the basketball world was truly fortunate to have gained the addition of a genius like him.
Suddenly, he remembered that during the match against Sannoh, both that little monk and Rukawa had said they were going to America.
Before that, Sakuragi had no idea what America had to do with basketball. He only figured that if both of those guys were going, it must be an important place for the sport, so how could it possibly lack a genius like him?
It wasn't until his recuperation period, while reading a pile of basketball magazines, that he finally understood what that country meant to basketball.
That only strengthened Sakuragi's resolve to go to America.
Damn stinking fox, I will definitely not lose to you!
With these messy, rambling thoughts bouncing around in his head, Sakuragi hugged the basketball and drifted into a heavy sleep.
For the next few days, that basketball became Sakuragi's body pillow and never once left his bed.
Until one day, when he woke up with a start from a deep sleep.
Cold sweat broke out all over Sakuragi's body, and as if electrocuted, he hurled the basketball away, watching it bounce violently off the wall.
Panting heavily, Sakuragi didn't even dare to recall what he had been dreaming about.
Yet anyone who frequently dreams knows that the more you try not to remember a dream, the clearer it becomes.
The basketball—which he had been clutching tightly just moments before and was now rolling around on the floor—had turned into Rukawa's head in the dream.
Sakuragi was jolted completely awake.
How was this haunting fox everywhere?!
To snap himself out of it quickly and escape that nightmare, Sakuragi decided to get rid of the basketball.
So, he climbed out of bed, sat on the edge for a moment to let his body adjust, and then picked up the basketball and slowly walked out of the ward.
When he reached the nurses' station, before he could even speak, a few young nurses smilingly gathered around him, one of them with a flushed face.
"Sakuragi-kun, that friend of yours... what, what's his name?"
Perplexed, Sakuragi asked, "Who?"
The blushing nurse grew even shyer, while the others nudged her with their elbows. "Go on, ask, what are we afraid of? We really want to know too."
Gathering her courage, the shy nurse continued, "It's... that very tall, very handsome guy who brought this over before. Does he... does he have a girlfriend?"
Looking down at the basketball she was pointing at, Sakuragi frowned. "This? I don't know who brought it."
"How is that possible? He's been here lots of times."
"Yeah, yeah. He often comes by to drop off magazines, but he just stays for a little while and leaves, right?"
"That's right. The other day he stayed in the room a bit longer. He was just here for a bit earlier too. Didn't Sakuragi-kun know because you were sleeping?"
As the nurses chattered away one after another, Sakuragi's eyes widened.
His face twitched a few times. An answer seemed to form in his mind, yet he hoped he had guessed wrong—though if he really had guessed wrong, he felt a strange sense of disappointment. Torn by this, he tentatively asked, "Is that guy... about my height, with black hair, and bangs covering his eyes?" He gestured to the position of bangs on his forehead.
The nurses nodded vigorously.
Sakuragi's face twitched even more violently. "Is his face long and sharp, like a fox?"
This time the nurses didn't nod; instead, they spoke all at once. "How is he like a fox?"
"He's very handsome, exceptionally handsome!"
"Totally! Our little Kiku likes him a lot."
"Sakuragi-kun, what's his name? Does he have a girlfriend?"
Fleeing as if running for his life, Sakuragi bolted from the nurses' station back to his room.
That damned fox had actually been here?
Not only had he brought him all those basketball magazines, but he'd even gotten him a basketball?
No wonder he had such a terrifying dream; it must have been caused by this lingering, haunting fox making a racket in his room.
He really wanted to beat him up!
Sakuragi felt more spooked than ever before.
What on earth was that fox Rukawa Kaede trying to pull?
Having been thoroughly startled by the nightmare and Rukawa Kaede's abnormal behavior, Sakuragi displayed unusual vigor during his afternoon rehabilitation session.
With his attention diverted, the feeling of pain seemed somewhat diluted.
"Sakuragi-kun made great progress this afternoon, keep up the good work," the rehabilitation doctor praised him.
Back in his room, Sakuragi stared fixedly at the orange-red basketball crammed into a corner, completely unable to figure out why someone he was always at odds with would bring him things, let alone do it so stealthily.
This level of complexity far exceeded his cognitive limits, giving Sakuragi a headache.
Clutching his hair, which was too short to get a real grip on, he buried his face in his pillow and howled.
When evening came, Sakuragi habitually picked up a basketball magazine, ready to read, only to fling the book far across the room as if he had been scalded.
Staring wide-eyed at the magazine—which seemed as though it had been possessed by Rukawa Kaede—he decided he needed to go wash his hands.
With nothing to read, he felt overwhelmingly bored and ended up stepping out of the room for a slow stroll.
The rehabilitation hospital had a basketball court, though Sakuragi couldn't for the life of him understand why a place like this needed one.
The people here were either patients or doctors and nurses; their bodies were in poor shape or they were too busy working—who on earth would come play basketball?
As it turned out, someone actually was.
Before Sakuragi even reached the court, he heard the familiar *thump, thump* of a bouncing basketball.
That familiar sound, deeply rooted in his memory for over four months, instantly stirred something flowing through Sakuragi's blood.
Stopping in his tracks, Sakuragi stood frozen, letting his heartbeat sync with the thud of the basketball hitting the ground.
His fingers twitched a few times.
Damn it! I really want to play!
Clenching his teeth, Sakuragi hung his head in dejection and turned back the way he came.
The little sun that had barely climbed half a day ago rolled right back down behind the mountain.
Dragging this unnamable mood along with him, Sakuragi diligently went through his rehabilitation.
The physical feedback felt utterly alien; he hadn't experienced anything like this in his entire fifteen years of life.
Aside from the agony of rehabilitation, whether he could recover his past athletic ability and when he would recover it were his greatest sources of anxiety right now.
If he weren't barred from leaving the hospital, Sakuragi really wanted to escape to some place where no one knew him and have a good cry.
Though a real man sheds blood without tears, his heart felt deeply wronged.
Taking time out of his busy studies, Kogure Kiminobu came to visit him, only to find an unfamiliar Sakuragi Hanamichi, leaving the upperclassman deeply worried.
Sakuragi Hanamichi's restlessness reached its peak three days later.
In truth, his rehabilitation was improving every day, and the doctors' assessments of him were trending in a positive direction.
Even though Sakuragi was naturally easygoing, that sense of lingering restlessness refused to fade, making him all the more irritated.
Standing by the beach as the setting sun dipped below the horizon, he watched the rising and falling tides and sighed.
A familiar voice suddenly rang out beside his ear, sounding so abrupt that he thought he was suffering from auditory hallucinations.
"Big Idiot, is this all you've got?"