I Want to Play Basketball

Upon seeing Shiro's intense gaze, Nijimura froze for a moment, a rush of complex emotions welling up in his heart.

He felt Shiro's deep love for basketball and the expectation directed at him, yet his thoughts turned to his father in the U.S. — the bedridden man who needed his care.

The desire to return to Japan grew stronger within him, but the thought of his father's condition left him hesitating, torn between two paths. He let out a soft sigh and shook his head gently. "Forget it, forget it"

Shiro kept his eyes fixed on Nijimura, catching a fleeting glimmer of longing in his gaze.

He understood that, despite Nijimura's outward refusal, his heart still burned with a passion for basketball.

"Nijimura, no matter what's holding you back, I can help you!" Shiro declared firmly, his determined expression showing unwavering resolve.

"If you're ever ready, you can count on me. I'll do everything I can to support you" he added before turning and walking away, hand-in-hand with Momoi.

Nijimura stood frozen, staring at Shiro's retreating figure, lost in thought. "Return to Japan… to play basketball?"

His mind wandered back to his middle school days, the time when he poured his heart and soul into the court. Each game was etched vividly in his memory as though it happened yesterday.

But reality weighed heavy. He knew he couldn't easily forsake his family responsibilities. Yet, the fire for basketball within him never truly died.

He stood slowly, a faint, bitter smile on his face. "How could I possibly accept your help?" he murmured to himself, still caught in an internal struggle, before walking slowly in the direction of his home.

Meanwhile, Shiro and Momoi hailed a cab, leaving the court behind.

Momoi clung to Shiro's hand, leaning against him with a look of curiosity in her eyes. "Shiro, why are you so keen on getting Nijimura back?" she asked.

Shiro smiled faintly, explaining, "For one, I can sense his strong desire to return to the game."

"And for another, I need a dependable teammate. Basketball has never been a solo sport. I don't know what kind of players I'll encounter in the future, but I hope to build a team of trustworthy companions to fight alongside me."

Momoi nodded slightly, her expression softening as she closed her eyes for a brief rest.

By the time they arrived home, night had quietly settled over the city.

The next morning, they embarked on a vibrant tour across U.S., led enthusiastically by Maki.

From the East Coast to the West, they journeyed through stunning landscapes, basking in nature's majesty. They strolled bustling city streets, indulging in the richness of urban culture, and savored local cuisines, immersing themselves in unique flavors. Iconic landmarks like the Statue of Liberty in New York, the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and Hollywood in Los Angeles filled their itinerary, leaving unforgettable memories.

Throughout the trip, the trio shared endless laughter, relishing the joy of their adventures and the stories they exchanged.

Maki, acting as a thoughtful guide, offered fascinating insights into each location's history and cultural background, enriching their understanding of the country.

Meanwhile, in a hospital room elsewhere, Nijimura sat quietly by a bedside, skillfully peeling an apple with a fruit knife.

On the bed lay a middle-aged man, his face slightly pale but exuding resilience and kindness. It was Nijimura's father.

With practiced hands, Nijimura sliced the peeled apple into small pieces, carefully spearing one with a toothpick and offering it to his father.

His father smiled warmly, taking a bite and savoring the sweetness. The quiet interaction radiated familial love and harmony.

After a moment of silence, his father spoke, "Shuzo, you should return to Japan. My health has improved, and I no longer need you by my side all the time. You should go back and chase your basketball dreams."

His voice was gentle yet firm, a nudge to ease his son's burden and encourage him to step back onto the court.

Nijimura lowered his gaze, staring at the apple in his hand. "Dad, you know it's just a game to me" he said softly. "I've never taken it that seriously."

But as he spoke, his fingers trembled slightly, betraying the turmoil within him.

His father observed him silently, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion.

He sighed lightly, a tinge of guilt and helplessness in his voice. "Son, I know you better than anyone. I know how much you love basketball."

With a warm hand, he tousled Nijimura's hair and said, "I've already taken a year from you. It's time for you to pursue what you truly love. You deserve to chase your dreams and live your life, not stay cooped up in this small hospital room."

Interrupting any further hesitation, his father's tone turned stern. "Stop acting so sentimental! Be a man and get back on the court. Make me proud!"

Nijimura clenched his jaw, the weight of his father's words sinking in. He knew his father was right.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded firmly, signaling his acceptance of the decision.

His father smiled with relief, gently patting Nijimura's shoulder. "Go for it, son. Believe in yourself—you can do this."

Though Nijimura didn't respond aloud, his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Later that night, Nijimura stepped out of the hospital room, clutching his phone. He dialed a number, and as the line connected, he spoke with a heavy voice.

"Shiro, I want to play basketball!"