Kasamatsu sighs heavily, placing the washed and folded number
four jersey into Hayakawa’s locker; it’s really over. He doesn’t think he’ll
ever get the sound of the final buzzer of his last game as Kaijo’s captain out
of his mind and for all the wrong reasons.
They were supposed to win damn it!
His fist hits the harsh
metal of the locker, the angry strike reverberating through his nerves. He
bites back tears, unwilling to cry any more than he already has and flops onto
the bench. His eyes wander around, taking in the sight of a room filled with so
many memories. These walls have heard it all: encouragement, cursing, vows,
broken promises, laughter and cries of victory.
He gets up, striding into the gym, the feel of his street
clothes heavy on his body. The first and second years are there, running drills
and trying to keep up with their new captain’s rapid speech.
A bitter, incredulous laugh leaves his lips as he thinks
about what awaits him when he leaves this place for the last time. College
entrance exams, moving away if he gets in where he wants to, harder classes, speculation on whether he’ll have time for basketball, it’s all suddenly looming over him.
Three years sure went by fast and he knows he has too many
regrets for someone so young, the weight of defeat bearing down with renewed vigor
because there’s no more second chances, no more practice with this team to get
it just right, no more time.
Kasamatsu grunts to himself, “It really is frustrating,” before turning on his heel and walking
out of the gym doors.
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