"Rukawa Kaede is really getting out of hand!"
"Right? Look how angry he made the teacher."
"Wait, is this his first time being absent?"
"Yeah, I think so. He probably overslept again. Doesn't he love sleeping?"
Rukawa's classmates whispered among themselves, glancing at the empty seat near the window.
At the podium, the sixty-year-old math teacher exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. "Forget it. That brat just sleeps when he's here anyway. Out of sight, out of mind!"
But after a moment, his face twisted again. "No, the more I think about it, the angrier I get! That brat clearly looks down on me. I'm calling his parents!"
"Achoo… am I catching a cold?" Rukawa rubbed his nose and stayed crouched in the bushes, quietly watching for Ryonan's players.
He hadn't slept all night, his mind trapped between two thoughts.
Will I end up like Yazawa?
Right now, I can't beat Nango… but what about Sendo?
The first question had no answer. The second, however, could be tested.
That's why he was here—skipping school to challenge Sendo Akira to a match.
When the dismissal bell rang, Rukawa crawled out from the bushes and scanned the school grounds until he spotted someone familiar—Hikoichi, the ever-enthusiastic Ryonan reporter, reading while walking.
Rukawa approached and patted him on the shoulder. "Where's Sendo?"
Hikoichi turned, eyes widening. "Rukawa Kaede?! What are you doing here?"
Ignoring the question, Rukawa repeated, "Can you call Sendo?"
"Sendo? I don't think he came to class today," Hikoichi said, scratching his head.
"Tch, skipping class too?" Rukawa muttered, conveniently forgetting he had done the same. "I'll come back this afternoon."
"Wait—he might be at one place," Hikoichi said. Though confused, he trusted Rukawa's seriousness and pointed the way.
Following Hikoichi's directions, Rukawa arrived at the coast and soon spotted the spiky-haired ace sitting among a group of elderly men, lazily holding a fishing rod.
Rukawa called out, "Hey—"
"Shh!"
"Young man!" one of the old men hissed. "Don't shout like that! You'll scare the fish away!"
The old men glared, but Rukawa only stared straight at Sendo.
"Hmm?" Sendo turned, eyes half-lidded. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?"
Rukawa ignored the jab. "Do you have time? I want to play a match with you."
"No way," Sendo replied without hesitation. Coach Taoka had been overworking him lately, and this peaceful fishing trip was his only escape. The last thing he wanted was a one-on-one battle.
"Why not?" Rukawa frowned. In his mind, Sendo was just as obsessed with basketball as he was. There was no reason to refuse.
"Have you ever fished before?" Sendo asked suddenly.
"What?"
Sendo smirked. "If you can catch one fish, I'll play you. Deal?"
The old men around them burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Akira, you're too mean! What a rascal!"
"Don't listen to him, young man! Fishing isn't easy—you could wait all day and catch nothing!"
Their laughter made Sendo scratch his head, a bit embarrassed. Just as he was about to say "forget it," Rukawa rolled up his sleeves and snatched the fishing rod from his hands.
"One fish, right?"
He sat down and stared intently at the float.
Sendo blinked, unsure whether to laugh or sigh, then sat beside him.
After a few quiet minutes, he asked, "Why do you want to play against me so badly?"
Rukawa's reply was calm and firm. "To prove I'm stronger than you."
Sendo barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This kid really just says whatever he's thinking, huh?
But before he could respond, the float bobbed.
"Don't move yet!" Sendo stopped him immediately.
"Young man, steady!"
"Wait! Don't pull too soon!"
The old men, now fully invested, crowded around and started coaching him like sideline spectators.
What's with them? Rukawa thought, puzzled. It's just a fish.
But the rod grew heavier, and the float tugged sharply downward. The old men's cheers grew louder—it was a big one.
Sendo watched in disbelief. No way… this guy's luck… I've been here all morning without a single bite!
With the old men's help, Rukawa pulled hard, and after a brief struggle, a gleaming red snapper—easily five pounds—flopped onto the dock.
"Oh my! Good catch, young man!"
"To get one that big on your first try—impressive!"
Though he wasn't interested in fishing, their praise made Rukawa's lips twitch into a small, awkward smile.
"There it is! He smiled!"
"Don't look so gloomy all the time—it scares the fish away!"
Sendo finally stood, exasperated. "Alright, alright! Didn't you come here for basketball? Let's go already."
"Come back and fish with us again, young man!" the old men waved as the two walked off.
Later that evening, after Shohoku's regular practice, Rukawa pushed his bike home, still thinking about his talk with Sendo.
"Will there be opponents stronger than you at the National Tournament?"
"Isn't there one right next to you?"
"And there was a guy I met in junior high—Kitazawa."
"Tch." Lost in thought, Rukawa realized he had wandered into a dead end. He turned his bike around and spotted a small fishing shop nearby.
For some reason, he went inside.
The old shop owner barely looked up from his TV. "A high school kid buying fishing gear? That's a first."
"I'm home," Rukawa called.
"Hmm? Kaede, what's that on your back?" his mother asked, puzzled.
Rukawa took off his bag and showed her with a faint smile.
"It's fishing tackle."
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