Part 2: Whatever

It's all too late, except...

Akagi is on the court again, and Mitsui is on the other side.

What was it Kogure said, when Akagi's head was buried deep in entrance exam hell? "He's not stupid, Akagi. He's just behind in his schooling. I'll help him out when I can."

And here's the result: the idiot-not-idiot somehow made it into college. A two-year college, not a university with a name to it. Akagi's parents would kill him if he even mentioned trying the exam for a school like that. Whatever. Who cares. It's a school with a basketball team.

And Mitsui is playing like the old Mitsui.

There's that infuriating silk-smooth shot swooshing through the net. The form Kogure copied to near-perfection—but never perfection, because only Mitsui can make it look so damn easy. Akagi is experiencing some unpleasant flashbacks to their first practice game together. But they're also good flashbacks, this time.

He looks askance at Mitsui's knee, without its red brace now; the joint is holding together. The man is holding together. He plays some damn good basketball.

And so does Akagi.

He grins wryly at Mitsui, who scowls back, and they play, and play, and play. The way they were always meant to.

—

Too late, too late, except...

Mitsui looks down (way down) at the fluffy mound of hair and the high-arched eyebrows and those lazy, all-seeing eyes...

"Do I really need to try out?" says the most arrogant asshole in the gym, not counting Mitsui himself. "I think being the best high school point guard in Kanagawa says I'm in. Right, senpai?"

Mitsui reaches down (way down) and puts Miyagi in a headlock while their other teammates (their teammates, he never thought he'd get to have that thought again) stand around and gape. "You ever gonna learn any respect, pipsqueak?" he roars.

"Ow! You're the one choking your old captain to death!"

"I'm your captain now."

"Unfortunately!"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?"

Miyagi makes noises of protest. "Because I didn't want this to happen! Lemme go!"

Mitsui doesn't let him go.

Not this time.

—

Too late? No, they've arrived just on time.

The game has just started.

"They're not bad, even without us," Miyagi mock-whispers at Yasuda. "I mean, obviously they could use our help, but I suppose Sakuragi being back is slightly useful."

Yasuda glances at the stats Aya-chan is scribbling down on her clipboard. "Slightly useful? You keep telling yourself that, Ryota."

"More than that," Aya-chan says, not looking up from her work, "I think what impresses me is that they're not blowing up at each other. And look, Rukawa has two assists already. He's doing what you taught him." She shines her brilliant, brain-melting smile on him. "If anything proves you were a good captain, Ryota, this is it."

"Huuuurrr," he says intelligently, while Yasuda sighs—and Rukawa, on the court, gets another assist.

—

It's late...*yawn*

Rukawa is awakened by a toe digging into his ribs.

"You missed graduation," says the loudest, most annoying voice in the world. "Haruko-chan thought it was the saddest, most terrible thing a person could do in the world."

Rukawa rolls over and closes his eyes.

Sakuragi, instead of kicking him again, squats down heavily beside him. "Hey. Rukawa. What college are you going to? You never told me."

Rukawa didn't open his eyes. "I never said I was going to college."

"You want to play basketball, right?"

Rukawa doesn't answer for a long while, until it's apparent Sakuragi won't leave until he has an answer. "I'm going to the States. I've been saying it for three years, dumbass."

"Ah ha!" Sakuragi leans back, falling onto the concrete butt-first. "I knew it. This tensai knows all!"

"Idiot."

"Hmph."

Rukawa waits. He knows he just has to wait, and Sakuragi will always, always answer.

He doesn't have to wait long.

"Well, I guess that's it. I'll see you there," says Sakuragi, standing up now, job done.

Rukawa goes back to sleep.

—

It's never, ever too late, except...

No, Sakuragi thinks. No 'except.' There's always another chance to play the game. That's all there is to it.

He boards the plane.

- End -

Notes:

...I realize this fic is kind of a spiritual successor to another SD fic of mine, Imagination, and by "spiritual successor" I mean "almost the exact same story." Lol.

That said, this fic was a super fun fic to write, and I am so glad that prillalar requested Slam Dunk :) I think this might be the fandom I most enjoy writing for. Love the gangsta boys and the basketball action and the fact that I actually understand a bit about basketball, unlike most of the other sports/games I try to write about lalalala.

BIG thank you to cryforthedream for beta-ing the fic and catching some really big gaffs! Certain parts of the fic probably wouldn't have made any sense without his input. I owe you one, man.