Slam Dunk: Sakuragi learned from Kawamura Eiki's experience

The whistle for a timeout pierced the stadium.

When Mr. Takeda called a timeout, he watched the red-haired man walk off the stage with a blank expression.

Sakuragi walked to the bench, plopped down on a long bench, and bent down to touch the broken shoe. His fingers slipped inside the tear and touched his sock.

Mr. Takeda squatted down, lowered his head, and looked closely at the shoe. His brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were fixed on the crack for a long time.

Then he raised his hand, as if to slap himself. He paused, his hand hovering halfway in the air, then lowered it again. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that it would be pointless.

Why doesn't he ever look down more often? During training and games, Sakuragi runs around in front of him, but he only looks at his movements, his position, and his running, never looking down at his feet.

The school's standard athletic shoes. White canvas upper, rubber sole.

He had been wearing these shoes to train and play basketball since April, and now, after two months, the shoes finally broke.

"Sakuragi." Takeda-sensei's voice was a little hoarse, as if something was stuck in his throat. "Do you have a spare pair of shoes?"

Sakuragi looked up, his expression still showing the bewilderment he had felt when he fell. He blinked, his lips moved, and then he shook his head.

Coach Takeda stood up, turned around, and looked at the players on the bench.

"Does anyone have a spare pair of shoes? Sakuragi could borrow them."

The players on the bench exchanged bewildered glances. Several looked down at their own feet, then looked up at Sakuragi's. Some took off their shoes and examined the size on the soles. One, two, three.

No one spoke, but the answer was written on their faces. They were all too small. Sakuragi's feet were too big; there wasn't another player on the entire team who could fit into his size.

Oda might be able to, as he's about the same height as Sakuragi, but as a key player, he also has to compete.

Mr. Takeda stood in front of the bench, looking blankly at the court. The game continued under the referee's orders. Tomioka Junior High was inbounding the ball, and Rukawa Kaede received the ball on the outside. With Sakuragi off the court, the defense of Kazuhiro Junior High had become full of holes, leaving the inside open and no one to grab the rebounds.

The score is being narrowed.

Sakuragi saw it too, and he took off both shoes and stood up. "Teacher, I'm not going on the field barefoot."

Mr. Takeda suddenly turned his head, his eyes widening like saucers. He grabbed Sakuragi's shoulder with such force that Sakuragi nearly lost his balance.

"Are you kidding me! Playing basketball barefoot? Do you know what happens when you play barefoot? You might step on someone's foot and break a toe. You might slip and fall on the sweaty floor. And what if tiny splinters get into your feet and cause an infection?"

Coach Takeda's voice grew louder and louder, so loud that the players around him shrank back. "Your basketball career has only just begun. Do you want it to end here?"

Sakuragi opened his mouth, as if to say something.

Teacher Takeda pressed down on his shoulder again, this time with even more force. "Sit down."

In the stands, the four members of Sakuragi's gang paced back and forth like ants on a hot plate.

Takamiya Nozomi took off her shoes, held them up to look at the size on the soles, and then despairingly put them back on. "Too small, Hanamichi's feet are four sizes bigger than mine."

Da Nan squatted down to untie his shoelaces, but stopped halfway through because he realized his shoes weren't much bigger than Gao Gongwang's. He tied the shoelaces back on.

Noma stood on a chair, his hand on his forehead, peering towards the substitutes' bench. "What do we do? What do we do? How can he play without shoes..."

The three of them were so anxious that they wished their shoes were a few sizes bigger so they could give them to Sakuragi.

What shoe size does Sakuragi wear?

A voice suddenly interrupted the three people's chaotic buzzing.

Takamiya Nozomi, Okusu, and Noma turned their heads at the same time, mouths agape, eyes wide open, their three faces filled with the same question: What are you going to do?

Yuri Yanai turned her gaze away from the red figure on the bench and onto the faces of Yohei and the other three.

Yohei glanced at her and already knew what she was going to do.

He didn't say "it's too late" because he knew that even if he did, she would still go.

"27.5," Yohei announced a number.

Yanai turned and ran away.

She took long strides and rushed towards the exit of the stands.

"Yanagi! Where are you going..." Kato Rena's voice chased after her from behind, but she left it in the wind.

Yohei watched the figure running further and further away, his mouth slightly agape.

He wanted to say "It's too late," but he didn't say it.

As Yanai ran out of the stadium, the sunlight outside suddenly slammed into her face, so bright and dazzling that she squinted.

She didn't stop to adjust to the light, nor did she slow her pace; her shoes slapped against the concrete floor.

She ran across the parking lot, across the sidewalk, and across the zebra crossing.

The sporting goods store was two blocks away. When she pushed the door open, the wind chimes on the door shook violently, making a series of tinkling sounds, more urgent than ever before.

The shop assistant looked up from behind the counter and saw a long-legged girl in a pleated skirt rushing towards him.

Her face was flushed, her forehead was covered in sweat, and a few strands of hair were stuck to her cheeks with sweat. Her breathing was rapid and heavy, and her chest was heaving. Her eyes quickly scanned the store before settling on the sneaker section.

"Basketball shoes. Size 27.5, in stock, quick." Her voice was a little breathless, but very clear, and she emphasized each word.

The salesperson brought out a pair of shoes with a white upper, a blue logo, and a thick sole, which looked very sturdy.

"How much?"

The clerk quoted a price. Yanai didn't haggle or hesitate. He reached into his bag, pulled out a wad of bills, and without even counting them, placed them on the counter.

"Keep the change, please."

She picked up the shoebox, turned around, and ran.

The shop assistant stood there, his mouth slightly agape. He looked at the stack of scattered banknotes on the counter, then at the long-legged beauty rushing out of the store with a shoebox in her arms. The wind chimes on the door frame swayed wildly, their tinkling sound lasting for a long time before slowly stopping.

He glanced down at the banknotes on the counter, then at the few on the floor, bent down to pick them up, and counted them. There were too many; enough to buy two pairs of shoes.

He looked up at the doorway; the wind chimes were still swaying slightly, but the person was gone.

Yanai ran back to the basketball court, pushed open the glass door, and rushed into the tunnel. The corner of the shoebox hit the door frame, and she swayed, almost falling, but she didn't stop.

She heard sounds from inside the stadium: the sound of basketballs hitting the floor, the sound of sneakers rubbing against the floor, the voices of the audience, the sound of whistles—all the sounds mixed together, pouring in from the tunnel entrance.

She rushed out of the passageway, and then she stopped.

On the court, Rukawa Kaede receives the ball outside the three-point line, faces the defender from Wako Middle School, takes a step back, jumps, and shoots.

The ball slipped from his fingertips, arcing high and gracefully, spinning under the lights as it flew towards the basket.

The ball is falling.

"Whoosh."

The net suddenly flipped upwards, then slowly drooped down, returning to calm.

The red timer lit up.

"Beep...beep...beep..."

The final whistle blew.

The Tomioka Junior High team members surged toward Rukawa Kaede like a tidal wave, cheering and celebrating.

The numbers on the scoreboard were frozen.

61:60.

Fuqiu Middle School won the game by a single point, while Waguang Middle School was eliminated in the semifinals.

Yuri Yanai stood at the entrance of the passageway, clutching the shoebox in her arms. Her chest was heaving violently.

Sweat slid down his forehead, past his brow bone, down the bridge of his nose, gathered into a drop on the tip of his chin, and then fell onto the shoebox.

The paper of the shoebox was soaked with sweat and tears... She didn't know when she started crying... a small patch of it was damp.

Her gaze pierced through the crowd, across half the stadium, and landed on the white number 15 in front of the substitutes' bench.

Sakuragi Hanamichi stood there, like a wooden stake nailed to the ground, completely still.

His body was trembling slightly, starting from his shoulders and moving down to his fingertips. His hands hung at his sides, his fists clenched tightly.

Tears welled up in Sakuragi's eyes and streamed down his cheeks, past his chin, and onto the front of his jersey. His shoulders trembled violently.

Teacher Takeda stood next to him, one hand on his shoulder, his mouth moving as if he were saying something.

But Sakuragi seemed not to hear anything; his eyes were fixed straight ahead, on the scoreboard and the number... 60 to 61.

Yuri Yanai stood at the entrance of the passage, holding the shoes in her arms. Her fingers slowly tightened on the shoebox, the edges of the cardboard box deformed from her grip, making a soft creaking sound.

Her eyes were red, her nose was red, and her lips were trembling slightly.

She was still too late.