“Someone’s here to see me?
Who?”
Aizen was curious.
He didn’t have many friends at Teiko.
He couldn’t connect with the otakus in his class—their wavelengths just didn’t match.
And he looked down on the small-time delinquents.
He practically had no friends at all.
If anything, the basketball club’s members were the people he was closest to.
“I don’t know, but they don’t look like good people.” Momoi shook her head.
Aizen said “oh,” put down his ball, and walked outside.
Aomine saw this and followed him out.
He figured that Aizen’s bruised and swollen face today might have something to do with whoever was looking for him.
But Aomine had it all wrong—these people weren’t here to cause trouble for Aizen.
On the contrary, they were here to thank him.
“Hey, it’s you guys.”
Standing at the entrance, Sakuragi and his group of five were all lined up properly in front of the basketball club.
“Yo, long time no see, Aizen.” Mito Yohei greeted him.
“It has been a while.” Aizen felt a bit warm.
Taking a towel Momoi handed him, he wiped his sweat and asked, “You guys don’t exactly look like basketball enthusiasts.
What brings you to the basketball club?
Thinking of switching sports?”
“Haha, we’ll pass.
We don’t know how to play basketball.
Sakuragi’s the one who wanted to see you.” Mito Yohei elbowed Sakuragi.
Suddenly, Sakuragi’s face turned bright red.
He hesitated for a long time, until Aizen was almost losing patience.
Then he suddenly bowed at a 90-degree angle and said sincerely, “About yesterday—thank you!
And I’m sorry!”
What’s with the ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ at the same time?
So here’s what happened: Yesterday, after Sakuragi got home, he found his father clutching his chest and collapsed on the floor.
He panicked.
Not knowing what illness his father had, he immediately rushed to the nearest hospital.
But before going home, he’d already fought four people.
Those four, not wanting to let it go, had brought four more to block Sakuragi’s path.
That was the scene Aizen had witnessed yesterday.
At the time, Sakuragi was so focused on getting his father to the hospital that he didn’t think twice.
He abandoned Aizen, who’d reached out to help him, and rushed to the hospital alone.
When Sakuragi returned to the scene later, Aizen had already been chewed out by his boss lady at work.
But he hadn’t had a choice!
“Forget it, I’m fine now anyway.
As long as your dad’s okay, that’s what matters.” Aizen waved it off after hearing the story.
“I forgive you.”
He could somewhat understand how Sakuragi felt.
His own father had high blood pressure.
Once, he’d suddenly collapsed at home—it nearly scared Aizen to death.
He forgave Sakuragi, but Sakuragi couldn’t forgive himself.
“How can you just let it go?
I already tied up those eight bastards from yesterday and brought them to Teiko!
You can do whatever you want with them!”
‘Huh?’
Aizen was stunned.
He followed Sakuragi to the school gate and sure enough, there were eight students tied up haphazardly.
‘This guy actually went through with it.’
Aizen was impressed, not expecting this guy had the guts to tie people up and bring them to Teiko.
“Untie them right now.
I don’t want to get disqualified from the national tournament.”
Not long ago, Shirogane Kozo had given him a stern warning.
Basketball prohibited fighting—both on and off the court.
If caught, you’d be immediately disqualified from participating.
Aizen had only just earned Shirogane Kozo’s trust—he didn’t want to lose his chance to play over something like this.
“Untie them?
Aren’t you going to beat them up?
Or is bare hands not satisfying enough?” Sakuragi didn’t understand.
In his mind, fighting was the best thing ever.
He’d been fighting since he started school.
After beating everyone in his grade, he moved on to upperclassmen.
He was practically the number one fighter of his generation.
In fact, in the original work, when Mitsui Hisashi brought delinquents to the basketball club, Sakuragi took down an adult thug named Tetsuo barehanded—his combat ability was astonishing.
“Are you an idiot?
I told you, I have games to play.
Do you even listen?” Aizen couldn’t help but punch him.
“What’s so fun about playing ball?” Sakuragi took the hit without fighting back.
Partly because he couldn’t win, and partly because Aizen had done him a favor.
Aizen looked at Sakuragi and suddenly had an idea.
He’d been struggling to find someone to help him grind his badge proficiency—er, I mean, someone to play with.
…
Night fell.
Aizen brought Sakuragi and his gang back to his small apartment.
Then Aizen pulled out a VHS tape and popped it into the DVD player.
“Oh, are we watching an action movie?”
The moment they saw what he was doing, they all got excited.
Who hasn’t been young before?
Junior high students are at the age where they’re most curious about the opposite sex.
They immediately opened up some snacks, found the best seats, and stared at the TV with eager anticipation.
‘Action movie?’
‘Strictly speaking, yes, it was definitely an action movie.’
Soon images appeared on the screen—bodies colliding constantly.
All of them were men, though.
“What the hell, Aizen?
Why are you showing us a basketball game?
I got my hopes up for nothing!”
“Didn’t you ask what’s so fun about basketball?
I’m about to show you.”
Aizen patted Sakuragi on the shoulder and told him to keep watching.
This was a basketball game from the 1980s, featuring two NBA powerhouses—the Boston Celtics and the Los Angeles Lakers, the ultimate rivals.
“This is Magic Johnson, and this is Larry Bird.
They’ve been rivals since college, battling from the NCAA all the way to the pros, creating countless classics.”
Aizen slowly introduced the players to Sakuragi’s group, including the background of those games.
Sakuragi didn’t know any of this.
He watched the Lakers and Celtics battle on screen, heard the crowd screaming like madmen.
Even through the screen, even as a complete novice, he could feel how intense the game was.
In fact, the intensity of that game was beyond what a beginner could imagine.
Every possession was fought over like life or death—that couldn’t even begin to describe the physicality.
The referees constantly worried whether the two teams would just start brawling.
This was a microcosm of 1980s NBA—full of contact and physicality.
When emotions ran high, all-out fights were practically routine.
Especially when it came to rivals like the Lakers and Celtics.
Every single game would see a scuffle break out.
“Why do they fight so hard over a ball?”
Sakuragi couldn’t understand why these people would bleed, sweat, and even cry over a leather ball.
Aizen’s answer was simple: “For glory, of course!”