Chapter 17 Coach, I Want to Play Basketball
The atmosphere inside the Shohoku gym changed the instant Mitsui Hisashi stepped onto the court.
Kogure Kiminobu stared at him—his former teammate who had once shone with confidence, now standing there in a crumpled uniform, eyes sharp with defiance. A quiet ache tightened in Kogure's chest. He pushed his glasses up and spoke gently, but with unmistakable sincerity.
"Mitsui… come back. You still love basketball. There will always be a place for you here."
Beside him, Akagi Takenori stood with arms crossed. He said nothing. But his stern gaze was fixed squarely on Mitsui, heavy and unyielding, as if daring him to lie to himself.
That silent pressure dug into Mitsui's chest. Memories he had buried—endless practice, the echo of bouncing balls, the joy of victory, the bitterness of his injury—rose like a tide crashing against the fragile mask he wore as a delinquent.
He turned his head sharply away, forcing a scoff.
"Shut up… Who'd want to play basketball anyway?"
He pivoted toward the exit, intent on escaping the court—and his own heart.
"Hey, wait a sec!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi lunged forward and grabbed Mitsui's shoulder with a grip like iron.
Mitsui froze in surprise.
Sakuragi leaned in, eyes blazing with his usual reckless confidence.
"Don't run off, bro! Our team's short on players! A veteran like you is exactly what Shohoku needs! If you join us, we'll conquer everything! The prefectural tournament! The national stage! All of it! So think it over!"
To Mitsui, those words didn't sound like encouragement. They sounded like mockery of everything he had lost.
His temper ignited.
"Bastard! Let go! Who the hell is your brother?!"
He swung his fist.
Sakuragi tilted his head just enough to dodge. Then, using Mitsui's momentum, he yanked his arm and sent him crashing onto the floor.
THUD!
Before Mitsui could rise, Sakuragi planted a knee beside him, pinning his arm down with brute strength alone.
"Guh—! Let go, you red-haired gorilla!!"
Mitsui struggled, but Sakuragi's raw power held him firmly in place.
Around them, the first-year members who had just arrived froze in confusion.
Why was Sakuragi wrestling a delinquent in the middle of the gym?!
At that moment—
CREAK…
The gym door opened.
Coach Anzai stepped in, round and calm as ever, hands tucked into his sleeves.
The instant Sakuragi saw him, his entire body jolted.
"C-Coach!!"
He released Mitsui immediately, stood straight, and dusted off his pants as if nothing had happened.
Mitsui scrambled up, breathing hard, uniform wrinkled, hair disheveled. He was ready to explode again—
Until his eyes met Anzai's.
Behind thick lenses, the coach's gaze was quiet and warm. Not angry. Not disappointed.
Just… waiting.
Something inside Mitsui collapsed.
All the resentment. The guilt. The love for basketball he had tried to bury. The shame of abandoning the man who had believed in him.
His lips trembled. No words came. Tears spilled freely down his face.
In front of the stunned team, Mitsui staggered forward, fists clenched, voice breaking apart.
"Coach Anzai… I… I want to play basketball…! I want to play basketball again!!"
The cry echoed through the empty gym.
Sakuragi, standing off to the side, grinned slightly.
"…Alright. One down."
Coach Anzai stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Mitsui's shaking shoulder.
His voice was soft, steady, and warm.
"Welcome back, Mitsui-kun."
Those simple words washed over Mitsui like salvation. His sobbing finally broke free, no longer restrained.
Just then, at the entrance of the gym—
Ryota Miyagi walked in with Ayako.
He stopped dead.
There was Mitsui—crying like a child in front of Coach Anzai.
Miyagi's jaw dropped.
"…What the hell did I just walk into?"