Ore Wa Tensai Sakura: Mine

Fandom: Slam Dunk
Warnings: Mush. Lots of it. Oh, and there may be yaoi hints if you squint and tilt your head.
Pairing: RuHana (non-yaoi)
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and situations.
Disclaimer: Fanfic denotes a certain lack of involvement in the Official World of Takehiko Inoue's Slam Dunk. *yawn* I need sugar.
Notes: This is a continuation of the Identity Crisis stories, and the third of the Ore Wa Tensai Sakura trilogy, and will only make sense after having read after Last Chance (and the stories set before it).

Ore Wa Tensai Sakura: Mine
by Annie D
the_80s_chick@lycos.com

As the door swung open, the tiny bell fixed at the frame tinkled softly. In stepped a tall figure, dressed in a heavy trenchcoat suitable for winter (although that was not the season at the moment) with a sorely out of place floppy brown hat that almost fell over the figure’s shaded eyes.
“Hm.”
The man behind the counter looked up at the arrival. “Konbawa.”
“Letters?”
“Just the one.” He passed over a white envelope.
“Hm.” The figure took the envelope and brushed off imaginary dust from it.
The man behind the counter, who owed a private mailing service, had been through this routine many times in the past months. The man in the trenchcoat, who still refused to give his name, would give him a letter to post, and it was always addressed to a Sakura at the North Kanagawa University. A week or so later a reply would come back, and it was always addressed to The Kitsune.
Both letters would have no return address or distinguishing marks, although the one that arrived would sometimes have the drawing of a tiny sakura at the corner.
Nothing that suspicious really, since he’d seen even shiftier folk pass through those doors, but the way this particular client handled the letters tended to pique his curiosity.
He cleared his throat as the trenchcoat man turned to leave. “I was just wondering…”
Although the other was wearing shades, he was undeniably giving a sharp glare that said, Don’t.
He bowed. Privacy was his business. “Gomen.”
The figure left, signalled by another tinkling of the tiny bell.
“I was just wondering why you’re taking longer to reply the letters lately.”
*****
The man in the trenchcoat slid the envelope into one the numerous of pockets within his jacket, then walked along in long strides down the street. He kept his head low, walking with what would seem nonchalance, but it was with purpose. He didn’t have shifty business, as one dressed like that usually would be, but he was in a hurry.
Eventually he arrived at his destination, which was a rather posh apartment building. He lifted a hand to greet the guard who opened the gate to let him in. In the main doors into the lobby – which was always eerily quiet – up an elevator and to his apartment.
After locking the door he removed the trenchcoat and hat.
And it was a pity he had to wear the heavy stuff at all, because underneath was a rather attractive man, although in a cold and point sort of way. He had height, well-defined shoulders, a fit bod, and a face that rarely smiled but somehow still managed to make people at least pay attention. A fraction of those would swoon.
Hmph. Like he cared.
What he did care about was the envelope, which he opened quickly but delicately, taking care not to rip the paper more than he needed to. Inside was a blue-tinted letter with some ridiculous patterns bordering the edges, and the writing was clear if not a little messy.
It read:
Rukawa
If you think that by telling me you’ve played against those American players that I’d get all upset and be jealous of you, then you’re wrong. Hah! I saw you on tv, but I won’t say anything about how you played, because your ego is bad enough without other people helping inflate it.
Thanks for the concern, my flu has gone away, I went to see the doctor like you said but there wasn’t really much point anyway, like what I said. I’m much better, anyway. Don’t get dizzy at all, or anything.
The university team’s doing pretty well here, the last game was pretty great, although Micchy fainted again – he denies it of course, said he was just a bit tired and only closing his eyes for a moment. Bullshit, he’s such a weakling, although Ochiai says that he’s still important because of his three pointers or some other nonsense. Hah.
My team’s still struggling a bit to my managing. Haruko says it’s because they’re scared of me, but I don’t see what’s there to be scared about. I’m thinking of buying a paper fan, you know like the one Ayako used. Haruko says I only need to use my Killer Eyes, but I want them to play better, not die from terror.
Oh, the spring break is coming soon. At first I was thinking of going home, but my mother’s busy with her new boyfriend so I think I’m just going to stay here. Koshino’s going home, and Haruko’s planning to go off to Tokyo with a friend for some architecture thing they want to check out. And Kogure’s coming to visit, at first he was going to stay in our apartment but since the girls are leaving, he and Mitsui are going to stay in their place upstairs, so I guess that just leaves me and Akira again.
That’s it for now. Can’t wait til your next letter.

Miss you lots
Sakura

Rukawa looked at the side table of the seating area, where propped up in a simple frame was the only picture he had of Sakura. It was the both of them at some forgettable mall or the other, holding hands. She was grinning a little uncertainly, he was… doing an impersonation of an expressionless statue (his speciality).
That was the last time they had seen each other. A damned two and a half months ago.
He had just been so busy since joining up with the All-Japan. He was no longer of High School level, and he had to perform if he wanted to stay on, so that meant training, real games, flying all over the place and (what he hated most) publicity.
All that had taken its toll on his freedom. Rukawa had only managed to see Sakura that once by using precious little time between connecting flights at a pitstop in Kanagawa, where he had quickly put together what was, depressingly enough, their first date, and the first time they had seen each other since the kiss on the beach.
Grand total of time spent together: 74 minutes.
At first things had been awkward. She had found her shoes the most interesting things in the world while he had done the quiet thing, wondering whether it was appropriate just to grab her and kiss her senseless. They had settled on getting a snack, had chatted a bit (a very little bit) before he had been paged to inform him that it was time he leave for the airport.
She had seen him off, and they had shared a brief kiss before parting again. Actually, he reflected, it wasn’t even a kiss, it was a pathetic little peck.
Then there were the letters. They had promised to write, true, but when Rukawa had finally gotten the stationery and sat down to write, he had no idea what to say. He had managed to scramble a few words together, but they sounded so… impersonal. He wished he could do poetry, or at least boast a better vocabulary.
Sakura’s letters were hardly better. She, too, seemed to have a problem in writing, and he could just imagine her frowning as she struggled to get her pen to scribble something across the paper. She had probably head-butted quite a number of items and/or people during her attempts to write.
He had tried calling her once, but that was hardly an improvement. The three-minute conversation was as drab as their letters. And so, over time, the letters were becoming… rarer. More difficult. It wasn’t as apparent from Sakura’s side, as she could always blab meaningless nonsense, but when it came right down to it, there was no real substance.
How can I tell you how much I miss you? Rukawa buried his head into his hands. How can I tell you that these past six months without you have been hell? I have basketball, yes, but it’s NOT ENOUGH. I need to know that you miss me as much as I miss you.
His coach was pushing him, the team was pushing him, his imminent superstar career was pushing him. He had once hinted to Sakura about quitting again, but the letter that had come back was full of so many BLOCK LETTERS and exclamation marks!!! that he was for once grateful that it was on paper medium and not deafening audio.
I’ve got my career. This is what I’ve wanted, and you say this is what you want for me, too, Rukawa thought, gazing at the picture. But I want you, too. He clenched his fists.
It angered him that hundreds of miles away, the girl he loved was probably upset that she hadn’t seen him in ages, and that he was getting so busy that the letters were becoming even scarcer, and that his teammates and interviewers and photographers saw more of him then she ever would, and that at the rate things were going, the basketball star that he was would eventually reach a point too high in the sky for even her to reach.
But what worried him was that she wasn’t thinking about all of that.
His eyes focused on a particular word in the letter. Akira. It didn’t make things any easier that that guy was her apartment-mate. Sure, she had assured him that there was nothing going on between them and that Sendoh was only a friend, but the fact of the matter was that Sendoh was (1) good-looking (2) a good listener (3) the one that had taken her first kiss (4) spent many many more hours with her than he did and worst of all (5) was on a first name basis with her while he was still getting letters addressed to “Rukawa”.
You write that you miss me, but do you *really*?
He looked at the thick clipboard on the table, which was his schedule. It was packed, as always. His eyes then moved to the calendar. Spring break was just under two weeks away, and on one particular day there had been written in huge letters: SA Match. That was a major game, and he had to really perform on that day, which meant intense practice from now till then.
He looked down at the letter again.
Calmly, he put the blue piece of paper down and reached out a hand to grab the nearest paper item, which happened to be the day’s newspaper. He scrunched it up before meticulously tearing it to little bits.
*****
One lovely spring day, Sendoh Akira was walking down the pavement outside the main gate of the North Kanagawa University, idly tossing a basketball from one hand to another. Beside him Mitsui Hisashi was talking softly into a handphone.
A loud noise made Sendoh turn his head. He poked an elbow into Mitsui’s arm to get his attention.
“Hey, Mitsui.”
“Excuse me a moment.” Mitsui looked up from his phone. “What?”
Sendoh pointed. Just beyond the closer shophouses a rather enthusiastic fight was well underway. The bodies involved were somewhat obscured by the flying dust, but one particular individual with bright red hair seemed to be taking a vocal solo in the event.
“Isn’t that Sakura?”
Mitsui squinted. “Yup. Should we help?”
“Yeah, those poor guys could get hurt.”
“Just give me a moment.” Mitsui turned his attention back to the phone to say a goodbye, then clicked it shut.
They took their time in strolling toward the group, and their ‘help’ consisted of carefully hauling Sakura away from giving the headbutt-of-death to a blabbering senior.
“Woi, woi, woi!” Sakura said, wrenching free from Mitsui and Sendoh’s grasp. “They started it!”
Sendoh took a moment to look over the rest of the group, who were either sprawled like sad salamanders on the pavement or carefully inching away while raising their hands in a dear-god-have-mercy kind of way. Sendoh shrugged and gave Sakura a cheerful smile. “Looks like they’re finished, too.”
“Hai!” said Sakura proudly. “Nobody messes with the tensai!”
Mitsui clucked his tongue. “You’re not supposed to fight anymore, Sakura.”
“This wasn’t fighting, this was… upholding my honour,” said Sakura, who gave a nearby senior a kick in the stomach before walking off. Sendoh and Mitsui looked at each other, shrugged, then trotted off to follow her.
“So what happened?” Sendoh asked.
“They were being cheeky about my hair,” Sakura said, her voice dropping dangerously.
Sendoh sighed. “Do you have to get into a fight so early in the day? It is spring break after all, and you’re supposed to relax.”
Sakura mumbled something inaudible, the turned her attention to the sidewalk, as though memorising all the cracks before she could step on them.
Sendoh gestured at Mitsui over Sakura’s head. You go pick up Kogure-san, he mouthed. I’ll stay with Sakura.
Mitsui nodded, then ran off.
Sakura didn’t even notice that Mitsui had disappeared. She just stuffed her hands in her pockets and trudged on blindly.
“Has he written?” Sendoh asked softly.
“No, he hasn’t!” Sakura half-shouted, stopping suddenly. She grabbed Sendoh by the collar and shook him as hard as she could. “Why hasn’t he written, why hasn’t he? Is he that busy, is he really that busy, I mean, how long can it take to write one stupid letter?”
“I believe it takes you about four hours,” said Sendoh.
Sakura stared at Sendoh, then let him go with a sigh. She sunk down and sat on the sidewalk to bury her head in her hands.
Sendoh squatted down and patted her on the shoulder. “You know the All-Japan team have that big game with the South American All-Star today. Rukawa’s probably been training for that, and with all the publicity he has to handle, he might not have had time to write.”
Sakura raised her head slowly, then made vicious strangling motions in the air. “One stupid letter, is that too much to ask? I’m going to kill him!” Her angry face suddenly dropped into an achingly sad one. “If I ever see him again. Ever.”
“I’m sure—“
“One date! One lousy date in six months!” Sakura jumped to her feet, forcing Sendoh to stand up next to her quickly. She kicked a nearby lamppost, and it shuddered. “Sometimes I wonder if what he said was true…”
“Said what?”
“That he loved me,” Sakura said softly. “Did he mean it, or was it just… I don’t know… something else?” In her mind’s eye she replayed the kiss. It had been amazing. During the weeks afterward she had been on a manic happy high, which descended into normal happy, and as the months drifted by had somehow deteriorated into… doubt.
She knew that he loved when he kissed her then. But now… now was a different question.
Sendoh draped an arm across her shoulder to half-hug her comfortingly. “He loves you, Sakura. He does.”
“Then why doesn’t he show it?” Sakura demanded. “Why?”
“Do you want him to leave the All-Japan?”
“No! No, of course not!” Sakura said quickly. “He deserves to be there, really he does. He’s good enough… not that I’m saying I’m not good enough, because of course I am, it’s just that the tensai has other things to do, right, ahem…” She sighed. “If he leaves All-Japan again I’ll kill him.”
“After you kill him for not writing, right?” Sendoh added cheerfully.
Sakura glared at him. “You’re not helping.”
“I do try, Sakura-chan,” Sendoh said.
Sakura shrugged his arm off. “I’m going home.” She marched on alone, head bowed sadly.
*****
All of Rukawa’s letters were kept in a little wicker box under her bed, along with other various posted presents. Every now and then Sakura would take them out just to look at them, the letters especially. Not really for the words, but rather for the feel of it. Rukawa had touched and held that paper in his hands, and having that knowledge was really why she kept them.
She took a letter at random, scanned it, and sighed.
The actual letters themselves were rather… Well, to the basketball fan in her, they were devilishly interesting. There were details on the training camps, games, the All-Japan members, other basketball celebrities, et cetera. But to Sakura – the simple girl who was in love with a confusing kitsune – they were ridiculously dull.
Why don’t you ever write that you miss me? she thought sadly. Why don’t you ever mention about our kiss? Or that stupid date? Or whether you think about me? I guess you do think about me sometimes, since you find time to write, but you haven’t been writing much lately, have you…?
The letters were so damned impersonal.
She hugged them to her chest, shutting her eyes as she envisioned Rukawa in her head. Tall, with narrow kitsune eyes that housed gorgeous sky blue eyes (freak of nature, that was), thin lips that were almost always drawn inward but could damn well kiss her senseless, broad shoulders, and well… perfect.
It was only when she opened her eyes to look at the letters again did she realise she was crying.
Sakura quickly wiped the tears away as she reached for the new sports magazine that had arrived that morning in the mail. She flipped through it quickly, trying to find something to take her mind off Rukawa, when an article caught her eye.
*****
BANG!
Kogure almost dropped his coffee cup. “What was that?!”
Sitting next to him in the apartment living area, Mitsui passed Kogure a napkin. “Sakura’s headbutted the floor again.”
The door to Sakura’s room opened slowly. With heavy and deliberately slow stomps, the tall red-head moved out of the doorway past the living area to the kitchen area. She opened the fridge stiffly and took out a large bucket of ice-cream. Then she stomped back to the living area and dropped into a chair.
Sendoh, Mitsui and Kogure watched her carefully.
“Ah, Megane-kun, you’ve arrived!” Sakura said. The words, in theory, were friendly, but the way she said them with the dancing tic on her face and the vein-popping wide-eyedness spoiled the effect.
“Uh, hai, Sakura-san,” said Kogure. “It’s good to see you again.”
Sakura nodded, then turned to Mitsui with the same large stiff eyes. “Hey, Micchy, are we still going to that bar tonight for dinner?”
“Hai…?” Mitsui said uncertainly.
Sakura’s head jerked in another nod. With a jerky flourish, she flipped the lid of the ice-cream bucket open and stabbed at its chocolate innards with a spoon.
The three guys continued to stare at her. Sendoh dared a little further by asking, “Sakura, what’s—“
“Nothing!” Sakura shrieked. She stuffed chocolate ice-cream into her mouth. “Nothing nothing nothing! The tensai is perfect, as always! Why do you ask silly questions, Akira-san?! Everything is happy happy! Megane-kun is here, we are all happy! Yes!”
Kogure cleared his throat, trying to calm the atmosphere. “Hey, that game should have started by now, if we watch now we can see it live. Do you have satellite?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Mitsui, who was still watching Sakura carefully in case she made any sudden movements. He reached out for the remote and switched on the tv.
Just in time to catch the first five minutes of the All-Japan vs South American All-Star game.
Sakura’s eyes popped even larger. A small dribble of chocolate escaped the right crack of her lips.
The camera focused on All-Japan 9, Rukawa Kaede, doing his thing on the court. He jumped to make a block against one his opponents. The commentator was saying, “Would you look at that! All-Japan’s newest member, hotshot Rukawa Kaede does a spectacular block against the South American super power forward Enrique Fernandez! I tell you, this kid has been sizzling since his debut just a few months ago – you keep your eye on him, all you basketball fans, because he’s on his way up and up!”
Sakura swallowed the last of the ice-cream, then kneeled down on the floor and slammed her forehead against it again. Kogure, Sendoh and Mitsui clasped the armrests of their chairs to counter the tremor that passed through the apartment floor and various pieces of furniture.
After a while, Sakura raised her head. Her lips moved outward into what could be considered a smile. “Why don’t we go to the bar now?”
“It’s 2 in the afternoon,” said Mitsui.
“It’s all right I’ll go for a walk now!” Sakura said, jumping to her feet quickly. “I’ll see all of you at place at 9. It’s 9, right? Right! Okay, I’ll go for a walk now, and see you guys later! Okay? Hai! Hai, okay I go now!”
The door slammed shut.
Kogure was the first to speak. “Anyone care to recap?”
Sendoh got up and went to her room. After a while he came out, holding the magazine. He dropped it on the table and pointed.
Kogure adjusted his spectacles to read. “Oh, a gossip column. About… Rukawa?!” He took the magazine quickly to read it more closely as
Mitsui peered eagerly over his shoulder. “Hmm hmm… Rukawa and Tamaki? Tamaki as in Blue-Streak Tamaki the singer?”
Sendoh sat down and interlocked his fingers. “Hm…”
“Rukawa would never…” Mitsui trailed off.
“He wouldn’t,” Sendoh said firmly. “But apparently Sakura believes that he could, and did.”
“Should we go after her?” Kogure asked.
“Let her cool down a bit,” Sendoh said. “Then afterward when we meet up for dinner, maybe we can talk some sense to her.”
Kogure adjusted his spectacles calmly, a little smile twitching across his lips. “Hey, that reminds me, there’s something else you'll find very interesting…”
*****
Depression, Sakura couldn’t handle.
Anger, now that was an emotion she had plenty of experience with.
“Get out of my way!” Sakura screamed at an innocent bystander who quickly flurried out of the way. She stomped on in the classic angry tensai pose, hands in pockets, eyebrows sharpened pencil-like and face flushed so red one would think it were possible to fry an egg on her head.
So she loved Rukawa. Well, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be angry with him at the same time. It didn’t mean she couldn’t be angry that she was in love with him!
Well, what is it I really want? Sakura wondered. I know I don’t want him to quit his career. But I also know I want him to be with me… A sudden horrified thought appeared in her head. But what if he was never *mine* in the first place? What if…? One kiss doesn’t really mean anything in the scheme of things… One confession doesn’t mean anything either! Oh no…
She clenched her hands into fists. Well, damn it, Rukawa, if you want to get someone else who’s prettier than me and all that, fine by me! FINE BY ME!
By the time 9 o’clock came by, Sakura arrived at the bar, and she raised a hand to silently greet Sendoh, Kogure and Mitsui who looked at her as though she were a TNT barrel with a lit fuse of length they couldn’t measure just yet. But still, there was a little of something else – I-know-something-you-don’t-know? – in their watchfulness, not that Sakura would notice.
“So how’s things, Sakura-chan?” Sendoh asked cheerfully as he led Sakura into the bar.
“Sucky,” mumbled Sakura. “Sucky sucky sucky. Rukawa stinks. He’s a…” she cursed, then looked at him. “I know you’re going to try and say something nice, but don’t bother. I’m mad, let me be mad, okay?”
“Okay, fine,” said Sendoh, before plopping into a seat at the main bar. He waved at the bartender to get them a drink. “Oh and by the way, Japan won the game.”
Sakura scowled. “Like I care.”
“And Rukawa scored 22 points,” he added.
Sakura snorted.
Sendoh paused, then leaned closer to her. “You’re not actually buying that stupid article, are you? Everyone knows gossip columns are 80% rumour and 20% fiction.”
Without turning to look at him, Sakura splayed one hand clearly across Sendoh’s face and pushed him off the stool. Mitsui watched him fall with a sweatdrop while Kogure frowned with concern. Sakura ignored them and grabbed the drink the bartender gave her, tossing it down her throat without even bothering to ask what it was.
Sendoh carefully picked himself up and sat back on the stool. He brushed himself off. “Well, if that’s the way you’re going to be…” He turned his full attention to Mitsui and Kogure, while Sakura brooded broodily by herself.
Some time and only one more drink later, Sakura felt someone tapping on her shoulder. She looked up to see the bartender gesturing at her.
“Nani?” she snapped.
“There’s a call for you,” he said, pointing to the phone at the left end of the bar.
“Hm?” Sakura got up slowly and lumbered to the phone, which she picked up lazily. “Moshi moshi.”
“Oi, do’aho,” a familiar voice said.
Sakura stopped her legs from giving way and then stared at the receiver. “Rukawa?”
“Hm.”
Sakura narrowed her eyes angrily and focused all the boiling anger into her voice. “How did you know where I am?”
“I have my ways.”
Sakura growled angrily. Always always always like that. Then she said in a low voice, “I saw an article about you today.”
“Hm?”
“Yes, I did!” Her voice went slightly hysterical, so she quickly cleared her throat. “So you won the game against South America, you should be happy.”
“Hm.”
“DON’T YOU HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY?!” Sakura shouted into the phone. “You… you…” She sprang off into a lovely collection of curses that caused a few of the nearby patrons to look at her in surprise – she cursed at them, too – while gesturing graphically at the poor phone receiver. “You baka!”
The line was quiet for a while. “You’re angry.” His voice was clipped.
“Damn right I’m angry, Rukawa!” she shouted. “I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking for quite a while now… The letters were stupid. It was a stupid stupid STUPID idea to think we could… could… do this whatever it is we think we’re doing just by letters.”
“I know.”
“Do you? DO YOU?! Do you have any idea how angry I am?!”
“Pretty much. Your face’s the same colour as your hair.”
Sakura blinked slowly. “Rukawa, where are you?”
“To your right, down the bar.”
The boiling rage drew into a small concentrated shard of ice. “Oh.”
Hand shaking slightly, she put the phone down, and it rested in its handle with a soft click. She didn’t hear it, though, as her heart was pounding too loudly for her ears to register anything else. The laughs and shouts of the other people in the bar blurred away.
A hand on her shoulder made her jump slightly. Slowly, she turned to look into the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. It was the kitsune, Rukawa Kaede, in the flesh in front of her, for the first time in months.
“Oi,” was all he said.
Sakura stood up, fixed a stern expression on her face, then punched him. He stumbled onto the wooden floor, and just like the arrogant bastard he was, he didn’t even bother to look surprised.
“Baka,” she snapped, then quickly walked past him out of the bar.
But Rukawa knew she’d respond in the like, and quickly jumped to his feet to run after her.
Sakura almost started wheezing in panic as she exited into the cold night air, and she shrieked when she felt his hand clamp around her wrist firmly. She felt herself be spun around, and once again she was forced to look at him.
“Sakura,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.
She glared at him. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Kogure-san.”
“Nani?!” She cured again. Traitor! I don’t know what’s going on, but the tensai will not be fooled! To Rukawa himself, she half-shouted, “How dare you come here!”
“You know why.”
“Oh, really, why?” She pretended to look around. “I don’t see any reasons why. It’s not like there’s anyone here that misses you, it’s not like there’s anyone here who’s been living a hell for months just because of one stupid kiss on a beach!”
He frowned. “It wasn’t stupid.”
“No, no don’t you dare—”
Rukawa kissed her. Of all the arrogant and stupid things the cheater could do, he just had to kiss her. Why couldn’t he have punched her or kicked her or cursed her?
God, he tasted divine.
Six months had nearly numbed the memory of the kiss on the beach, but this brought it all back. It took all the strength she had to push him off her. The feminine instinct embedded within her reflexes brought her palm upward in a slap.
Rukawa glared at her. “You don’t want me?”
“No! No, I don’t!” she screamed at him.
He looked away and shrugged. “I thought so.”
Sakura bit her lip at the pained expression on his face. He wasn’t supposed to respond that way. Irritated, she kicked him in the shins. “You shouldn’t have come here, kitsune. This just confirms what we’ve known all along, doesn’t it?” When he didn’t reply, she said even louder,
“Doesn’t it?! This can’t work, can it?”
He kicked her back, his eyes narrowing into a concentrated blue. “No, it can’t.”
Sakura screamed and punched him. He punched her back.
“You hit me! You can’t hit me, I’m a girl!”
“Don’t look like a girl to me.”
“Nani?!”
*****
Sendoh raised his eyes over the rim of his glass and automatically scanned for red. He sputtered on his drink when he couldn’t find her. “Where’s Sakura?”
Kogure looked up. “Maybe Rukawa’s plane arrived a little early.”
Earlier that day, after Sakura had made the dramatic exit from the apartment, Kogure had told them that Rukawa had contacted him on details of Sakura’s apartment and what vague plans he knew she would have over the spring break. All because he wanted to surprise her by flying out immediately after the end of the Japan-South America game.
Sendoh agreed that that was quite possibly the sweetest thing Sakura could expect Rukawa to do under the circumstances, but what Rukawa didn’t know was that he wasn’t coming to visit a girl ready to melt into his arms but instead a girl intent on chopping his head off.
“I’ll go look for her,” said Sendoh, standing up. “Be right back.”
His eyebrows jumped upward sharply when he found that she was just outside, scuffling violently with someone who looked very much like…
“Rukawa! Sakura! Stop it now!” He ran forward and grabbed each of them by their ears, dragging them apart forcefully.
“Itai!” Sakura screeched.
“If I let go, will you stop this nonsense?” Sendoh asked. Slowly, Rukawa nodded. Sakura cursed, then grudgingly nodded.
Sendoh slowly let go. “Now both of you, come with me. We need to talk.” Sakura opened her mouth to argue, but Sendoh gave her a fierce look that shut her up. He said carefully, “Now. No arguments, both of you, until I am done, even you, Rukawa-san. Got it? Good, now let’s go!”
*****
Sendoh took them back to the apartment. He could feel the heat shimmering off the both of them as they took time to gift the other with angry glares, but Sendoh’s own patented I-mean-business look kept them from actually violently attacking each other.
“Sit!” Sendoh ordered, and they both sat in chairs as far away from each other. He cleared his throat, as though he was conducting a meeting. “Now, Rukawa-san. Why are you upset?”
Rukawa pointed. Sendoh nodded. Sakura frowned with confusion until finally she got it.
“You’re jealous of Akira?!” Sakura shrieked.
Sendoh smiled a bit and put a hand on his heart. “Well, I’m afraid to tell you, Rukawa-san, that my designs on Sakura are only as a brother, because I am very happy with Haruko, thank you very much.”
Rukawa’s eyes widened.
“Yes, that’s right, Haruko and me,” Sendoh said sternly. “And I know that reporters always exaggerate these kind of matters, so am I right to say that the rumour about you and Tamaki is blatantly false and that Sakura’s jealousy is totally unfounded?”
Rukawa nodded solemnly.
Sakura sputtered angrily. “Hah! He’s lying, the kitsune is lying, he’s—”
Sendoh reached out to thump Sakura on the head. “Please be quiet for a moment, Sakura-chan. Rukawa is telling the truth, because it is common knowledge that Blue-Streak Tamaki flagrantly flirts with anything that walks. Your jealousy over him is as useless as his jealousy over you.”
They were both quiet, and Sendoh took this moment to clear his throat again.
“Sakura, you love him, don’t you?” he asked. She mumbled something. “Yes, you do. And Rukawa, you love her, don’t you? Yes, you do.” Sendoh sighed and crossed his arms across his chest. “The both of you are like… like…”
“Don’t try to help, Akira,” Sakura muttered.
“You’re both stupid!” he shouted, causing both of them to start. They had never seen Sendoh downright angry before, and it shocked them enough to pay him with their undivided attention. “Both of you have spent almost all your lives hiding your feelings from other people, admittedly in different ways, but when it comes down to it, you are mirror images of one another. You’re both stubborn, proud, possessive and insecure. But both of you are also capable of so much passion.”
Rukawa and Sakura’s mouth gaped open. They saw each other reacting the same way, then stared fixedly on their shoes.
Sendoh thumped each of them on the head one more time. “Whatever insecurities you are feeling, the other is feeling it, too. You’ve both created walls around yourselves, but you both had somehow been able to break through each other’s barriers into, well, whatever’s in there. And let me tell you this…” He narrowed his eyes. “Both of you are terrible, absolutely terrible when it comes to expressing your feelings with words.”
They hung their heads.
Sendoh again. “You need to work it out yourselves. You love each other, but you’re separated by distance and other things. What you should be asking is not whether it can work, but whether you want to make it work.” He started to leave, but paused. “Whether you want to talk calmly or beat each other senseless is completely up to you.” He then turned on his heel and left the apartment.
*****
They were shocked to silence by Sendoh’s speech, and for a long while the apartment was quiet, except for maybe the sounds of wheels turning in their heads.
You’re both stubborn, proud, possessive and insecure. Sakura wondered whether it was possible that Mr Basketball Smarty Pants could ever be insecure while Rukawa wondered the same thing about Ms I Am The Tensai Hear Me Roar.
Well, it was true about the gossip bit, as Sakura grudgingly admit to herself. She had probably overreacted.
After a while, Sakura asked carefully, “Are you really worried that I’d find someone else?”
Rukawa nodded. “Are you?”
“Of course!” Sakura said, her voice rising sharply. “So, you want me to apologise, is that it?!” She stood up and gestured wildly with her fists.
Rukawa just looked at her, and his lack of response made her blood boil even further.
“Well, I’m sorry I’m upset, and I’m sorry it’s because I love you, and I’m sorry that you’re so damn far away that the only way I can see you is on tv, and I’m sorry I don’t know how to tell you how I feel on paper, and I’m sorry I can’t stand it when other girls tons prettier than I am are always flocking to you and I’m sorry I’M JEALOUS!” She paused to heave for breath.
Rukawa stood up and took a step toward her, then stumbled backward as her fist met his jaw.
“I’m sorry that I love you too much, baka kitsune,” she snapped, then did a 180, stomped into her room and slammed the door shut behind her.
Rukawa looked down at the floor, then at his hands, then at her door. He started to walk to her room when he heard a very loud BANG of what was unmistakably a forehead hitting cement, and so he decided not to try just yet and instead moved to leave the apartment entirely.
Maybe he should go to the hotel and wait for both of them to calm down. He sighed as his hand turned the knob.
They had both overreacted, he knew that. Well, who could blame them really, with the distance between them and… Well, and that being in love was a totally new experience to both of them and it made both of them uniquely vulnerable.
Rukawa took a last look at her room door before opening the apartment one to leave. We’re both scared.
*****
Rukawa blinked a few times, then focused on the ceiling.
He had slept through many things that the normal person would consider impossible. Loud noises, moving objects (even if he was one of them), insistent chattering and so on so forth would all be selectively ignored by his senses when his brain wanted to sleep. However, this was their first time encountering Sakura’s snore.
He half-turned his head to look at Sakura, whose mouth opened and closed steadily with the snore that seemed to originate from somewhere below her throat and above her lungs into an indescribable sound that rammed at his eardrums. Her eyes were shut tightly as though she was concentrating intensely on sleeping.
He moved a little closer to her to wrap his free arm around her waist. She mumbled something incoherent, then instinctively snuggled into the crook of his neck.
Within his mind he replayed what had happened earlier.
He had planned to leave, but his legs wouldn’t let him. Then he made the decision to settle things once and for all, and so went to Sakura’s room to try and knock some sense into her (literally, if required). She had screamed various threats and curses at him before finally opening the door – not to talk but to beat him up some more, but he had quickly grabbed her into a tight hug and refused to let go even as she kicked him repeatedly.
Eventually the curses turned into sobs, which he silenced just by saying, “I’m sorry, too.”
They made love after that. Sometime during, amidst the heavy breathing and rubbing of flesh, Sakura’s golden brown eyes, which were gazing into his stormy blue ones, started to shimmer with tears. A single tear escaped her right eye, and Rukawa swiftly caught it with his lips before lowering them to her ear and whispering, “We’ve never needed words to express what we feel, Sakura.” She had nodded against his neck and then clung desperately to him.
And after their pulses had steadied and they had regained the usage of their voices, Sakura had started to cry again. Rukawa had hugged her tightly until the sobs died down and both of them fell asleep.
Of course, now he was awake again.
And Sakura’s snore was slowly rising in volume. Rukawa looked at her, then raised a hand that he then oh-accidentally dropped on top of her mouth. She sputtered awake and sat up in a jerk reflex. She turned her head, saw him clinging on her waist, then glared.
“What’s your problem, kitsune?” she snapped.
He tightened his grip and delicately planted a kiss on the curve of her waist. She smacked him just underside of his head while pulling the blanket up to her neck. Rukawa used his free hand to tug at the blanket, to which Sakura responded by blushing and tugging even harder. “Oi, blanket hog!”
“Cold?” he asked.
“No,” Sakura said. “But I’m, well…” She gestured wildly at her state of undress.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen everything already.”
He didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any redder than it already was, but somehow she managed it. She grabbed the blanket with both hands and pulled. Rukawa sighed and let go completely of her plus the blanket, causing both to go flying over the edge of the bed and land with a THUMP on the floor.
She muttered a muffled curse before jumping to her feet, the blanket now wrapped around her like a toga. She glared at him before realising that without the blanket on the bed, Rukawa was… well…
He smiled at her. “Shy?”
Sakura’s eyes narrowed, then she laughed. “Hahahahahaha! Remember, I used to have one, too. And mine was bigger.”
Rukawa blinked. That was certainly not common bedroom dialogue, at least in the more… regular bedrooms of the world. Do you have any idea how irresistible you are, do’aho? He sighed, then crawled cat-like across the bed to reach out a long arm to tug at her toga.
She slapped his hand away. “What are you doing, kitsune?”
With his super basketball reflexes, Rukawa snatched her wrist and pulled her close. “Call me Kaede.”
Sakura stared into his eyes, the dazed look in her eyes something along the lines of deer-in-headlights-ish. “Hai.” She slowly grinned. “My Kaede.”
He brushed her nose with his. “My flower. My Hana. I love you.”
“I know, Kaede,” she said softly. “We don’t need words, but I’ll say them anyway: I love you, too.” Then she hugged him tightly. “We were stupid, weren’t we? Just imagine, both times it took someone else to point us in the right direction, or else…” She drifted off.
“Then we need to do it ourselves from now on.”
“Hai. Oh, and don’t tell anyone about the tensai’s self-esteem problem, okay?”
“Hm.” He tugged the blanket again.
“Oh, you’re cold?”
*****
The next morning Mitsui stumbled into the apartment, rubbing his hands together to get warm. A moment later Kogure entered behind him, the bespectacled young man doing a little jig on his feet.
“Didn’t Haruko warn you about the irregular water pressure in her apartment?” Kogure asked.
“I think she mentioned it in passing, I wasn’t really paying attention,” said Mitsui. “No big deal. Come on.” He headed to his room.
Just as Mitsui was about to enter his room, the door behind them – which lead to Sakura’s room – creaked open. Rukawa, dressed only in boxers and once again with the expressionless expression on his face, stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him.
He kneeled down to pick up his discarded shirt from the floor, which he pulled over his head. Then he started walking around the living area, as though searching for something.
Just then the door to Sakura’s room opened again, and this time standing in the doorway was a fuming – only wearing a towel and with her hair terribly dishevelled – Sakura, who yelled, “Woi, baka, here they are!” She flung her arm in a wide arc, sending his pants flying across the room to land on Rukawa’s head.
The tall boy stood still for a moment, raised a hand in a thank you, then pulled the pants off his head to put them on properly.
Mitsui and Kogure sweatdropped, then turned as one to look at Sakura.
“What are you looking at?” she snapped, although her snarling mouth was smiling slightly at the corners. She slammed the door shut.
They both looked at Rukawa, who calmly buttoned his pants and left the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him.
“Oh…?” Mitsui trailed off.
Kogure smiled and patted Mitsui on the shoulder. “They’ve finally worked out their problems. I knew they’d reach an understanding sooner or later.”
*****
Rukawa and Sakura had precious little time before the former had to fly back to Osaka, so they spent it by just hanging out. Rukawa returned to the apartment after changing in his hotel room, then they went for a walk through town, had lunch, that kind of thing. When it came to spending time together, they both realised, it wasn’t the quantity but the quality. A simple conclusion that takes simple minds a simple longer than usual.
“Do you want to play a match?” Sakura asked after they finished lunch.
Rukawa sighed.
“Oh,” said Sakura, nodding. “You’re rather tired about all the games you’ve had to play, you want to take a break. That’s okay.” She paused, then grinned suddenly. “See! I bet you thought I was going to say that you were afraid to challenge the tensai, didn’t you? Didn’t you! Hahahahahahaha, see I do have self-control!”
“Do’aho.”
“Hmph, kitsune. You will not provoke me, so there, hahahahaha!”
Anyone watching the pair wouldn’t have immediately considered them a couple. For one thing, they didn’t hold hands, or make sickening googly eyes at each other, or kiss every two seconds or spout ridiculous love clichés every time they opened their mouths. They didn’t need to do that, because they knew.
We don’t need words.
But there was one thing that would have been a dead giveaway for anyone who’d bother to pay closer scrutiny… A look. It would be exchanged between them every once in a while, calm and quiet between the aimless chatter, and it didn’t seem to mean much more than adoration simple understanding. But it was there, and it was evidence enough.
At early evening, a few hours before Rukawa’s flight, they retreated to a playground just behind the Kanagawa University to watch the sun set. Sakura made herself comfortable on a swing too small for her, while Rukawa sat on the grass with one knee propped up. They were silent for a while, just enjoying the company.
“You played basketball because it made you feel alive, right?” Sakura asked him after a while. “You never had much purpose in your life so you dropped into basketball, innit? Am I right, am I?” She smacked his head affectionately.
He nodded slowly. “No purpose. Until you.”
“I’ve been wondering… Why did you leave the All-Japan last time?” Sakura asked.
Rukawa raised a hand.
“What happened to your hand, Kaede?!” Sakura exclaimed, reaching for it. “I mean, I noticed it before but somehow I never got around to asking what happened… So what happened to your hand?”
“A glass table hit it.”
“Baka!” she snarled, tossing the hand back at him. “That was incredibly stupid.”
He shrugged. “You were dead, it was reflex.”
She slowly turned to look at him, her eyes wide with wonder. “You left the All-Japan for me? For ME? But, but… Oh my god, you mean to tell me you liked me the whole time and you NEVER DID ANYTHING?! How stupid can you be, Mr so-called Super Rookie?!” She reached out an arm to tug at the back of his shirt, pulling him close so she was able to hug him from behind.
“There was Haruko.”
“That was a crush,” she said matter-of-factly, ruffling his hair. “This is love.”
“You were stupid, too.”
“Nani?!” She tightened her grip, then loosened it. “Well, yes. But don’t tell anyone I admit to being wrong, because there goes my tensai image, and we can’t have that, can we?” She brushed her lips against his ear. “Don’t you ever wonder what if?”
“Hm?”
“What if I hadn’t hit been hit by the truck? I would still be a guy, you’d still be on the All-Japan team, I’d still have that crush on Haruko, and we’d never know, isn’t that scary?” Hit by a sudden thought, she squeezed him threateningly. “What if I was still a guy? What if I was still Hanamichi?”
He turned his head and regarded her seriously. “You are Hanamichi.”
“Aaaaah.” She nodded, and was quiet for a while. “So what happens now? I’ve still got my classes, you’ve still got to play… Our timetables will clash a lot, until I graduate, that is. We won’t be able to see each other as much.”
He reached up to squeeze her hands. “Basketball stars make money.”
“Oh. So I’ll fly out to see you or you’ll fly out to see me whenever we can, is that it? Will it work, you think?”
“Yes. If we want it to.”
She pressed her cheek against his, hugging as tightly as she could while making sure that he could still breathe. Mostly. She whispered gently, “No if.”

*****
EPILOGUE

It was a kodak-moment-worthy early evening, the different shades of red dancing against one another in the sky. Touki Yukihito, who happened to one of the few who were taking a little time out to enjoy the beauty, thought it a shame that he had to spend so much time practising indoors when it looked as though there would be quite a number of days like that to follow.
But, of course, basketball came first. The Inter Highs were just around the corner, and he wanted to make the best impression he could as a freshman of the former national champions of Shohoku. He, like the other players, wanted to regain their title as best in the country, which unfortunately had been taken away from them the previous year after they had held it for four years running.
Never mind, this year is the year. Shohoku will be champion once again, Yukihito told himself. He adjusted the strap of his sports bag over his shoulder as he strolled down the pavement.
As he passed by the beachside park, he heard the most beautiful noise in the world: the sound of a basketball being bounced.
Picking up his ears, and feeling a little nosy since he was after all a member of the best basketball team in Kanagawa, he followed the sound, which lead him to an open-air basketball court set parallel to the oceanline.
A one-on-one was in progress, so Yukihito sat down on a bench slightly hidden by bushes to observe the proceedings. It was fun to watch basketball being played, no matter where or by whom, even if by total idiots. It just made him proud to be a player.
These two players, however, were hardly idiots on the court.
“Don’t think I’ll give you any chances, kitsune.” This was one was a young woman with long red hair that had been tied in a pleat but was quickly coming undone. She was rather tall and kind of pretty in an rough-edged sort of way.
“Hmph.” The other player was an even taller young man with dark-hair and blue eyes. He was very good-looking, although his face looked as though it had been moulded to suit one expression and one expression only.
They both looked very familiar… And Yukihito gasped, cursing himself for not instantly recognising who they were.
Rukawa Kaede and Takemoto Sakura, the Captain and Vice-Captain who had led the Shohoku team to national victory for the first time five years ago. They were legends. Like all his mates, Yukihito knew that Rukawa had joined the All-Japan team after graduating and had been playing with them ever since. Takemoto Sakura was a celebrity in her own right, being the only female player ever to be allowed into the Inter High (a position she was totally worthy of) and then afterward becoming coach for Kanagawa University’s women’s basketball team.
Perhaps the tabloids could present a more colourful story about the two, especially regarding the moment their relationship became of a more personal nature. There had been a lot of speculation to whether they had been an item since their school days, although everyone who had known them personally had been quick to deny such allegations. There had also been taunts that such a relationship wouldn’t last, but those died down when it became apparent to anyone that they were the real deal.
Sakura was known for regularly attending Rukawa’s games, and she was always a clearly identifiable spectator in the crowd, what with her red hair and her ear-drum-breaking cheering. And it seemed that whenever Rukawa wasn’t on court or training, he was with her, and although the Rukawa’s avid fans were still taking bets on how long they would last, they had just as of recently been labelled The Sports Golden Couple.
Brought back to the present, Yukihito watched them play, just barely suppressing the urge to run up to them like a mad fanboy and ask for their autographs. He just didn’t have the heart to break up the match.
“This point is mine!” Sakura shouted, then dribbled toward the hoop in an attempt to pass Rukawa.
They move like they were born on the court, Yukihito thought, feeling very privileged to be able to watch them play. One day I’ll be like them.
Sakura tried to move past Rukawa, but his long limbs blocked her solidly. She growled something that was most likely a curse, then side-stepped, jumped and made a shot. Rukawa jumped too, and he blocked the shot easily with his extra height.
Sakura landed first, puffing slightly. She glared at him. “You purposely want to make the tensai look bad, don’t you?”
Rukawa shrugged, as though saying the tensai would look bad no matter what he did.
Sakura scowled as she jogged past him to get the ball. Once it was in her hands she charged back toward the hoop, past a rather surprised Rukawa, then made the shot.
It bounced off the rim.
“Rebound!” Sakura yelled as she jumped. Damn, that girl could jump, but Rukawa got the ball first, having the advantage of height and experience.
They both landed at about the same time, but Sakura suddenly yanked the ball from his hands, jumped and did a lay-up.
When she landed again she pumped her fist. “Yosh!”
Rukawa looked at her, face still expressionless. “That was a foul.”
Sakura pretended to peek her ears. “Foul? Foul? Well, I don’t hear a referee’s whistle, do you? Huh? No? So no foul, and the tensai wins! Nyahahahahahahahaha!”
Still in that monotone, Rukawa said, “I won 6 to 4.”
Sakura face-vaulted and then looked at her fingers, as though counting.
Rukawa sighed. “Do’aho.”
“Teme kitsune!”
Arm reaching out suddenly, Rukawa took Sakura’s fist and gently folded his own long fingers around it. Then, smoothly, he lowered himself down on one knee. Sakura stared at him.
They were still for a long while, holding their collective breaths.
Then Rukawa reached into a pocket of his shorts with his free hand and pulled out a small black velvet box, which he flicked open with his thumb. Within the dark depths of the box something twinkled, and he raised it so she could see what was inside.
Sakura stared at the box, then at him. “Kaede?”
Rukawa lifted the box a little higher and raised his eyebrows.
She blinked. “Nani?”
He waved the box a little bit. “What, you’re so stupid you don’t know what this is?”
Sakura blanched, although her eyes were starting to sparkle. “You dare call the tensai stupid?”
“Hm.”
She looked at him again, then at the box, then drew her eyebrows together in protest. “You’re supposed to ask.”
Rukawa sighed. “Marry me?”
She tried to glare but her lips were twitching into a smile. “Why should I?”
“Because…” He pressed the box against his heart.
Sakura smiled, her eyes softening. “Yes.”
Rukawa’s stoic mouth dipped into a smile. He took out the ring and slid it onto Sakura’s right ringfinger. He took a moment to study the ring on its new home before kissing that finger gently. “Mine.”
Sakura leaned down and kissed Rukawa on the nose. “Mine.”
Rukawa stood up and wrapped his arms around Sakura to kiss her properly.
Blushing furiously at being an unwelcome witness to the scene, Yukihito forced himself to turn away to give the couple more privacy. He smiled up at the sky and started to walk away just as he heard the pair speak again.
“Since you won the game, you must carry me home.”
“Do’aho.”
“What did you—Eeeeeeeep!”
Yukihito had to back out of the way as Rukawa ran past him, basketball in hands and a shrieking Sakura on his back. She was laughing happily, hugging Rukawa as though nothing else mattered in the world.
As they disappeared down the pavement, Yukihito was just able to make out their words.
“Aishiteru, my Hana.”
“Aishiteru, my Kaede.”
*****
Not too many months later, just as Yukihito and his team were about to start the Inter High league, a teammate ran into the gym waving the latest edition of the local basketball magazine they read regularly. While flipping through it, Yukihito came upon a two-page spread that caught his eye.

BASKETBALL STAR RUKAWA KAEDE WEDS

Yukihito smiled, then quickly scanned the article.

Rukawa Kaede, 22, recently tied the knot with girlfriend Takemoto Sakura in their hometown of Osaka in a lavish event that was attended by some of the biggest stars in the sports world, local and international. Rukawa, the Japanese basketball superstar who is known for being stoic and distant to many, was said to be "not himself" at the event.
Bla bla bla bla…
Rukawa Kaede and Takemoto Sakura met as schoolmates in Shohoku High, where both of them were members of the basketball team. Shohoku is still the best basketball team in Kanagawa, and both of them agree that the three years they spent there were among the most memorable in their lives.
Bla bla bla bla…
Takemoto Sakura, now Mrs Rukawa Kaede, boasts herself being the only person able to break through the walls that surround the silent and mysterious Rukawa, and although constantly asked what kind of man is hidden within the basketball genius, she coyly replies, "That’s for me to know and all of you to wonder."

FIN