The moment Akashi's smile faded, his presence shifted, becoming strikingly reminiscent of Captain Nijimura. Even Haizaki and the rest of the first-year regulars could sense it in the air. That same aura of unshakable command.
Then, with his expression calm and voice composed, Akashi began to speak. His words painted a vivid scene, so clearly and naturally that those listening could almost feel themselves stepping into it.
And indeed
He wasn't exaggerating or dramatizing. He was simply recounting something he had seen.
A scene from yesterday, after the match had ended.
As the players exited the court, he happened to overhear a private conversation near the player's tunnel, an accident, really. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but his timing was unfortunate.
It was a conversation between Inoue Tomoya
And Shigure Akihito.
"I was disappointed with your performance in the second half, Inoue Tomoya."
"…I'm sorry, senpai."
"I see. Then, can you answer me now? I asked you this in the second quarter, 'What were you thinking about?'"
"..."
Standing there in the tunnel, Inoue had clearly been waiting for Shigure. But now, with the senior right in front of him, he was fumbling for words, unable to respond.
In the shadows,
Akashi Seijuro, standing nearby and intending only to politely excuse himself to pass through, after all, it was the only route to the locker rooms, froze when he heard what came next.
A voice trembling slightly.
It was Inoue again.
"…Senpai."
"I… I'm just… ordinary, right?"
His voice shook.
"Back in middle school… I used to have delusions, thinking maybe, maybe I was a genius. No, even after middle school, until that day on the Teiko court… maybe even then, I still clung to that belief."
"That's why, when I faced the Twin Stars of Teiko, I could still stand tall and challenge them with confidence."
"Everyone knows how strong you seniors were in that match, and I could comfort myself with that fact, but the other first-years on the court that day…"
"Midorima. Haizaki. And…"
"…Aomine."
"They shook that belief right out of me. The idea that I might be a genius, it started to crumble right there. And after watching Aomine today… It's been just over three months, but he's already left me in the dust."
"If we're talking about the rate of growth… then it's clear, there's a fundamental difference in our talent."
Hearing this, Shigure nodded in quiet understanding. He offered no words of comfort, only clarity.
"So that's what you were thinking, back then?"
"..."
"Then let me tell you clearly."
"You're not wrong."
"There is a very real difference in talent between you and Aomine. That gap won't just affect how fast your skills grow, it may well define the ceiling of what you're capable of."
"So tell me…"
"Are you going to give up?"
Shigure's words struck like a silent hammer, heavy and crushing. For a moment, it felt like Inoue's heart stopped beating.
And all he could hear echoing in his ears were those words,
"So tell me…"
"Are you going to give up?"
Give up…
Is that… what this is?
"…No."
"Senpai, I'm not…"
But Shigure shook his head slowly. "No, you are. Or at least, you were. Otherwise, you wouldn't have stopped me. You'd have gone to the one you really owe this shame to, your idol, Nijimura Shuzo, whom you couldn't face because you shrank away in the second half."
The words pierced Inoue to his core. His pupils contracted sharply.
Yet looking at this middle schooler, still trapped in his youthful worries, Shigure, honored by being seen as someone worthy of trust, didn't withhold what he knew.
Drawing from the broader, long-term understanding he had of the game, he gave his answer.
"What is 'talent', really?"
"If we go by instinct, basketball is undoubtedly a sport that emphasizes height. So the most basic form of 'talent', is height."
"But does that mean all the shorter players should give up?"
"No."
"Height is a disadvantage, but not a death sentence. Even in the professional leagues, players who are under 190 cm, some even shorter, still make an impact."
"And they're not rare."
"Obviously, they didn't give up back in middle school."
"Basketball has gone through many eras, from when centers ruled the court, to the reign of shooting guards, to the dominance of power forwards…"
"Single-core systems…"
"Dual-core…"
"Team-oriented styles…"
"Defensive specialists…"
"There are countless precedents proving that basketball is a sport full of far more possibilities than people imagine. It's a fascinating game. So-called 'talent'…"
"…is about more than just individual prowess. The ability to push your skills to their limits is one kind of talent. The ability to develop and maximize a certain tactic or technique is another."
"In this sport, 'talent' comes in many forms."
"And because that hoop is fixed at 3.05 meters…"
"Everyone, everyone, has to look up."
"So figure it out."
"Yes, talent comes in different levels. But it's not just about raw ability. Only when you've truly explored every possibility and found nothing… then, and only then, can you say you don't have talent."
Shigure then smirked slightly.
"By the way, you're surprisingly fragile. Hopefully, by the time high school rolls around, you won't have completely vanished off the map."
Inoue Tomoya: "..."
Those words left him frozen on the spot, his mind spinning in chaos.
And Shigure, far from finished, continued without mercy.
"Do you know why Nijimura and I go all out even against opponents we clearly outclass?"
Not far away, Akashi, who had always wondered the same, suddenly widened his eyes.
"For Nijimura, it's his obsession with victory. Every possession is a battle that must be won with everything he's got. It feeds his hunger and honors his opponent's efforts."
"As for me…"
"Hmm…"
"I see it like a basketball video game."
"The custom character I built myself, climbing step by step toward glory, every rung on that ladder has to be perfect. Every win, every achievement… It all builds toward a flawless career record."
"So that when I finally look back, "
"I can be proud of the glory I once held."
"And you…"
"You're just one of the steps on that path."
"Today's match? Honestly, I doubt my future self will even remember it. It'll just be a cold stat, fading into the margins of memory."
"And if I do remember…"
"I'll probably just think, "
"…Ah…"
"The score…"
"145 to 54."
"That was a good game for me"
"As for the opponent? Can't recall the name. Probably just another average guy, someone who, like many others, lost all fighting spirit. Maybe…"
"…even gave up on basketball entirely"
"Barely worthy of being a faint, fading line in the glory of my past."
End of chapter...
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