Homecoming Bastard
Michael Roughan's grizzled face was as frosty as ice.
Thirty minutes after the game, and his players are already partying like it's goddamn 1999.
They deserved it of course. But Roughan will never let it get to their head, because if this is where their ambitions end, it would be an absolute disgrace.
"Are you all done indulging yourselves?" The head coach's words were like needles. "I want all of you to return this locker room into its natural state within the next hour. Then meet us in the practice facility for dinner."
For him not to harshly criticize their unruly behavior, already spoke volumes unto how much his players deserved a little less abrasive behavior from him.
The oldest players almost tore up.
"Yes sir! We'll meet you there!" Legend spoke up first, as the captain. He was also a little embarrassed because he just slept and didn't keep his team under control. "Thank you sir!"
Taichi nodded to the people he knew.
Every single one of them was stunned that this guy had the time to wander to the Midwest instead of studying.
Tremaine gazed at the man with a perplexed expression… why the fuck do I remember this guy?
"See you later, Taichi you shit stain!" Khalil yelled while grinning.
"I smell a traitor!" Lamont smelled the air around him exaggeratedly.
"Kuso! I stepped on shit!" Dwayne also joined in on the banter with the only Japanese word he knew and winked at Taichi.
"Damn I can't breathe the air of bastards, I'm gonna puke!" Taichi himself gave words of farewell, and smiled back at his old friends.
Tremaine now had full idea who this man was.
Taichi Kawashima.
He became a famous member of the Akatsuki Five— or Japan's national basketball team— in his prime, playing for various premier European leagues in his first life.
Is he a former Illinois player? What the hell?
Tremaine knew he went to and graduated from Harvard. But he never knew that he played for Illinois too!
Wait… did he even play ball at Harvard?
Tremaine has to find out later.
But now, they had a mammoth task at hand…
"Let's start cleaning this place." Legend was fully awake now. He doesn't want to work at all, since he's just played almost 30 minutes of intense basketball, but all of them lost track of the fact that the win was literally just the first game of the season. Although beating UNC is a huge accomplishment, they'd have to have many more of this along the way before they reach March Madness.
This is just a stepping stone.
A great first step.
Why are we celebrating like we reached the end of the line?
Everyone moved like clockwork. None of them wanted to do any more work, but they had no choice. They were kinda hoping that their coach had some damn good food waiting for them after this.
An hour later and most of the team was sleepy as hell. Even if the players who didn't play picked up most of the heavy tasks, they still ended up in this worrisome state.
Basketball related fatigue hits differently...
Good thing all of them either had some chocolate protein drink or tofu milk shakes, and a chicken breast burrito.
"If that guy doesn't cook us dinner I'll kill him!" Khalil was once again bantering. In this team, after their captain, Taichi was the best cook… However, he only cooked Japanese food. "I haven't had Japanese food in ages!"
"He's a good cook?" Deshaun was entranced too. As he'd always been a food enthusiast. "I'm looking forward to it!"
"You should, kid. Taichi will make your palate want to have more of his cooking." Ryan Brown also spoke up, in a show of admiration, because he can't cook anything that is not burned.
The tired members of the Illinois men's basketball team walked out of the locker room with an excited smile. Most of their palates were roused from sleep.
At some point in time, Miguel started singing low Mexican songs that were not enough to disturb the night. This was a song the upperclassmen were familiar with, so they can either whistle or hum the tune.
Their mood had definitely regained its happiness.
Taichi stood outside the facility he once spent his greatest days and nights in with nostalgia. He shook his head, not wanting the emotions to surge out of him and influence his decision making.
"You're here to reunite with your old family, not rejoin them!" Taichi shook his head and smiled. He saw from afar the whistling, humming, singing Illinois team he had left behind to pursue his own grand ambitions.
He was neither jealous nor sad. He was instead happy that all of them had found— and were doing— what they truly wanted.
"Oy! You shithead!" Khalil ran up ahead of his team to bear hug Taichi. "Fucking bastard leaving us behind and then coming back here like he's the biggest shit in town now?"
His words did not match his actions at all.
"Trading us for some fancy telescopes and that shit!" Dwayne Evans knew nothing about astrophysics, but since it had astro in it, it must have something to do with telescopes. He also took the chance to give Taichi a bear hug.
"Is that the puto that left me alone in the dorm?" Miguel Montero stopped singing and walked towards Taichi while rubbing his moustache. He had a menacing expression, and once he got close, he practiced his boxing skills.
Taichi evaded as he always used to and returned some punches, which had the same power as Miguel's.
"Oh, I see your punches still had the same weight, what a turd." Miguel's eyes were slowly welling up. "Fucker left us for sparkling space shit."
One by one the people that had spent a year with him gave brutal remarks that didn't line up with their actions, making it a funny, emotional scene.
Except for Legend.
"What do you call it in Japan? Is it okari?"
"I think what you're trying to say is okaeri."
"That's it. Okaeri, you bastard!" Legend said the Japanese word for welcome home with a gruff smile, and a deep voice that was unfit for such a nice word. Although because of the word bastard added, it became fitting.
"You should get inside, I brought a shit ton of sushi, and rice bowls I prepared myself." Taichi opened the door and allowed his friends entry. As for the rest, they had them introduce themselves. "I still have to bully the youngsters."
Once he got to Jaylen Mitchell, he said: "You're insane. I would watch your improvement with great interest."
"Thanks."
The last to enter was Tremaine Mills. "I'm Tremaine. I also wanted to be a spaceman when I was a kid."
"I've heard your name several times during the last month or so." Tremaine was perplexed. "Nice to finally meet the man behind the name. I hope you like the food."
"Thanks, it's nice to meet you too, Kawashima-san."
***
Extras:
Jaylen Mitchell was stuck in a dilemma, just like a few other Illinois men's basketball team members.
"Where are the forks, and the spoon?" He asked in a low, almost ashamed voice.
"There's none." Taichi's smile could alleviate the pressure rising. "Learning how to use chopsticks is a great skill to have in your locker."
Jaylen looked around him, and he saw that every other freshman could use the two, long, thin pieces of wood to eat effectively.
There's no way he's gonna ask them for help.
Instead he drank some of the refreshing tea, to reset his mind and calm it down.
He then looked around to see how the upperclassmen were doing.
Everyone, even the gruff Quandre, the man with the worst hand-eye coordination Tarik, and the Mexican man Miguel, could hold their own against the two sticks of doom.
Except Caleb Wilson, who's definitely just overdoing himself and trying his best to balance every piece of sushi onto the chopsticks without spilling it. He even acted like it's no big deal to him.
He sat across from Jaylen, so he could see the man fighting the sticks and the sushi into a stalemate.
"Fuck this." Jaylen raised one of the sticks and skewered three pieces of sushi with it to great effect, before plunging it headfirst to the wasabi dip.
Caleb continued trying to wage war against the eating tool, and looked like a fool doing so.
While Jaylen smiled, after the first bite oozed the juices of the mango slice, the meat of salmon, the taste of the sticky rice, and the burning sensation of the wasabi into his watering mouth.