Renewal

"98!"

Sakuragi heaved a sigh of exhaustion as he went to fetch the ball yet again. His brilliant free-throw start had spiraled into disaster—he was only making about one out of every six free-throws he took now, which was only slightly better than his typical percentage. In addition to the lowered morale and poor shooting, by the 50th free throw he felt a heavy sense of fatigue in his arms—something he had not experienced in quite some time.

Despite all these tribulations, he had gotten his second wind and was able to keep going. Mitsui had ambled over a few times to check on his progress, but otherwise was just off on the other side of the court doing… whatever.

Don't have time to care about him now, Sakuragi thought as he went back to the foul line. Just two more and I can rest…

With a quick flick of the wrist, he shot another free-throw with nearly textbook shooting mechanics. But when the clang of the ball bouncing off the front rim announced the result of his shot, Sakuragi collapsed onto his knees.

Can't keep this up… my strength… Sakuragi's hands shot to his recovered back, which still throbbed with a dull ache if he overextended himself. I took too much time off exercise… even getting into some fights would have kept me in shape…

At this point, Sakuragi unknowingly was reliving the hell that Mitsui had lived through upon his return to basketball: the lack of stamina that handicapped the fighting determination within his heart. Sakuragi was thinking the exact same words Mitsui had thought before, with the same amount of bitterness:

I wasted so much time…

"Hey, you okay?"

Mitsui's uncharacteristically concerned voice floated to his ears, the shooting guard now at the redhead's side. Mitsui knelt and placed a hand on Sakuragi's shoulder, his other arm cradling a basketball.

"Oi, is your back still hurting? Need a break?"

"Haha! Yeah right, Micchi!" Sakuragi laughed loudly, his stubbornness and pride preventing him from acknowledging his exhaustion. "To a commoner like you, this would probably be too much! But for a Tensai like me—"

Mitsui wasn't fooled for a second. "How many left? You look beat."

Sakuragi motioned towards the ball weakly, ignoring the question. Mitsui sighed, both admiring the redhead for his tenacity but also appalled at his stubbornness (though Mitsui himself was equally prideful).

"Hey, I'll get the rebounds for you until you finish. How about that? I'm getting a bit tired myself."

Sakuragi managed a nod and without further words, Mitsui grabbed Sakuragi's arm and hauled him back to a standing position. The vice-captain dropped off the ball he had been using for the redhead while he went off to get the other loose ball. Sakuragi gathered himself and turned his gaze back towards the basket, the pain no longer evident on his face as he tried to concentrate.

The free throw missed.

Mitsui caught the rebound and shot another pass right back to Sakuragi. The process repeated as Sakuragi caught, shot, and missed again.

Mitsui considered Sakuragi for a while, not immediately passing the ball back this time as sweat poured down the redhead's face. "You know, maybe we should—"

"Pass it!"

Mitsui blinked in surprise at the unexpectedly authoritative voice from Sakuragi. The redhead held his hands out expectantly and Mitsui obliged, once again bouncing the ball off to Sakuragi. The ball lifted into the air seconds after and this time, it rattled around the rim but managed to drop through.

"How many more, Sakuragi?" Mitsui asked again.

"Just one more," Sakuragi mumbled, his hands out. Mitsui managed a wan smile, a part of him very pleased to see that Sakuragi was still so into basketball and still had a strong work ethic.

The ball once again reached Sakuragi and the free throw clanged back out seconds later, signaling another miss.

"Damn!" Sakuragi gasped, wiping the sweat from the sides of his face with the back of his arm. Mitsui waited patiently for Sakuragi to motion for the ball again before he passed it off. The next free-throw swished through the net smoothly, and Mitsui couldn't help but nod in approval.

"Good work."

Sakuragi collapsed into a sitting position on the floor, then simply gave up and fell onto his back, this time accepting and giving into his exhaustion.

Mitsui stared blankly at the sleeping Sakuragi and sighed. There went the chance of leaving early.

The soft patter of a ball against the gym floor woke Sakuragi up from his brief nap. With a loud yawn, he lethargically pushed himself to a sitting position, still a bit groggy. He looked around, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

What had woken the redhead was Mitsui at the other end of the court, still shooting jumpers. It had been a very long time since Sakuragi had an opportunity to see Mitsui's shot again. He watched Mitsui shoot with new appreciation, the lingering memories of his intense jump shot training with Anzai and his friends springing to mind.

Mitsui's form was beautiful as ever—it never changed from shot to shot. Natural but consistent. It wasn't just textbook: it was almost like art. Sakuragi couldn't help but admire it and found himself with a renewed sense of vigor.

As if he had felt the eyes on his back, Mitsui stopped dribbling and turned.

"Awake?"

Sakuragi slowly bent himself back into a sitting position. "What time is it?"

"Dunno." Mitsui walked over to his bag, crouching low to fumble with some of the zippers. In a matter of moments he pulled out a watch and took a quick glance at it. "10:16."

"Oh," Sakuragi said without emotion, not particularly concerned that it had gotten so late. However, he had classes tomorrow, so—

It was something he almost chuckled at. Him, of all people, remembering that he had classes. It truly had been a long time since his return.

"We've done enough today." Mitsui stood back up, slinging his bag over a shoulder before shooting Sakuragi an impatient glare. None of his earlier admiration or concern for the redhead was present now. "Stop sitting there and let's get going."

Sakuragi pushed himself up and started for the exit, wobbling the entire way. Mitsui held the door open for him and the two mumbled a goodbye. As Sakuragi stalked off into the night, Mitsui couldn't help but look back into the empty gym and smile.

Things were about to get exciting again.

Mitsui snapped off the gym lights and Shohoku's basketball gym fell back into a slumber.

"Afternoon!"

A loud, slightly annoying yell echoed throughout the gym as Sakuragi sauntered into the gym, greeting the other players with a grin. Mitsui was the first to sigh in exasperation.

"Surprised you're alive," Mitsui said sardonically, though he really wasn't. Sakuragi had always been some sort of monster when it came to recovery and stamina and whatever exhaustion Sakuragi had felt from yesterday wasn't evident.

Sakuragi thumped his chest, chortling with self-bravado. "No problem for this Tensai!"

Miyagi instantly appeared at Mitsui's side, a stern look on his face. "You're very late."

Sakuragi scratched the back of his head embarrassingly. "Just taking it a bit slower, Ryo-chin! I showed up, right?"

"You get into trouble with the teachers again?"

"None of your business."

"It would have been better if you didn't come at all," Rukawa interjected, the Shohoku ace not even turning to face the three as he continued to shoot jumpers to warm-up.

"What'd you say?" Sakuragi turned on the fox, about to throttle him. Undeterred, Rukawa shot a blank glance over his shoulder.

"You are a loser."

"Hey, break it up you kids!"

Appearing from seemingly nowhere, Ayako's fan interrupted the scuffle before it even began, slapping both of them over the top of their heads.

Sakuragi and Rukawa were instantly each huddled in a separate corner of the gym, nursing the welt forming on their heads.

Hiroshi, who was still not used to the way the Shohoku players interacted with each other, could only chuckle softly to himself while he tightened his shoelaces.

Miyagi rubbed his temples in frustration. With Sakuragi back, he would need to start accounting for more headaches, it seemed.

"Let's just start practice guys."

Practice went smoothly. It concluded with another set of scrimmages, this time a 5 on 5 of starters mixed with other players that would potentially be put into an official match. Hiroshi sat out of the scrimmage this time around, instead spending time with Ayako to study Shohoku's offensive and defensive plays so he would easily integrate into the team if Anzai gave him a chance to play.

Out of curiosity, during a break between one of the scrimmages Miyagi pulled Ayako aside to check on the rookie's progress. Hiroshi was oblivious as he continued to flip through Ayako's notes, lost in thought.

"He's almost done."

"Done with the first couple of plays?"

Ayako shook her head. "No. Almost done with the entire playbook."

Miyagi's eyes widened in shock. The only other people he could recall picking up the Shohoku playbook so quickly was himself and Rukawa.

"He's certainly very knowledgeable. Especially about the defensive sets," Ayako added, handing Miyagi one of her scribbles. "When I showed him one of the defensive plays from last year, he corrected it without prompting. See this one? Those are his suggestions."

"Right. Those are the same corrections we decided to make after the Aiwa game," Miyagi remembered, after a quick glance at the contents. When he glanced up again to Ayako, he was greeted with a radiant, excited expression on his crush's face.

"The other teams aren't going to know what hit them," Ayako beamed.

Miyagi couldn't help but return that smile.

Anzai-sensei had shown up briefly, and although he offered nothing new for the players, he approved of Miyagi's decision to let the players work out a bit later than usual in preparation for the upcoming match. Still, it wasn't long before the practice broke up once again and all the players returned home… with the exception of Mitsui and Sakuragi.

"Listen up."

Mitsui shot a chest pass to Sakuragi, both of them still sweaty from the practice and scrimmages earlier.

"I was keeping track. Your teams lost to Rukawa's every single scrimmage."

"Stupid fox," Sakuragi grumbled, smacking the ball between his palms. "He's lucky I always go so easy on him."

"You're not back to your normal self yet, I'll give you that," Mitsui nodded, though no one would believe Sakuragi had gone easy on Rukawa on any of those scrimmages. "For today you're going to shoot ten free throws first. Afterwards, work on your layups—fifty for your right hand, and fifty for your left hand. Then do fifty jumpers, and we'll conclude with fifty free throws. And by shoot, I mean make. You don't leave until you meet your quota."

Sakuragi looked vacantly at Mitsui, not realizing just how much work that actually was.

"Oh? Is that enough?"

Mitsui's fist came crashing down on Sakuragi's head in response.

"Are you dense? It probably wouldn't be enough for someone that can actually make his shots, but for you, technically the amount of shots you're actually doing is probably triple or even quadruple the amount I'm giving you! Plus, we just had practice! Now get to work!"

Sakuragi stalked off to his workout regiment, a lump already visible on his head.

Mitsui stumbled over to the bench, barely managing to make it before he collapsed into a heap. He was slow to catch his breath, the vice-captain clearly having practiced a bit too long as he fumbled to get the cap off a bottle of Pocari Sweat. The duo had been practicing for hours and Mitsui felt like his legs were about to give at any moment. Neither he nor Sakuragi had taken a break, both too absorbed in their training.

While he guzzled fluids, Mitsui kept a careful eye on Sakuragi, who was taking his final round of free throws. There didn't appear to be too much improvement in the amount of tries it took for Sakuragi to make his free-throws, but Sakuragi's form was definitely smooth and practiced now despite having learned how to shoot properly only a day ago. In addition, Sakuragi had finished his practice assignment much sooner than Mitsui had anticipated—Sakuragi had only just recently returned to basketball, after all. All of these facts filled Mitsui with a strange sort of awe—it was no wonder Anzai had pinned great hopes on these nightly workout sessions having a big effect on the redhead.

"How many more?" Mitsui called, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm.

"Just six more!" Sakuragi yelled back before he promptly missed another shot.

Mitsui leaned back against the bench and laid down, his left arm over his closed eyes and the right gripping his Pocari Sweat bottle. He sighed with fatigue and discontent.

Even with Sakuragi's return to form, Mitsui's only true feeling was this: there just wasn't enough time to get ready for the Ryonan match.