It was 8 p.m., and the bright overhead lights of Shohoku Gymnasium illuminated the large wooden court below. The silence of the empty gym was broken only by the furious mopping sounds coming from a lone red-haired figure.
"Damn it! Damn that idiot Yohei! Damn Yuji! Damn Mustache! Damn Takamiya!" Sakuragi Hanamichi growled through gritted teeth as he dragged the mop back and forth across the floor. "When it's time to make fun of me, they're always there—loud and proud! But when it's time to help? All of them vanish like cowards!"
Sweat dripped from his brow as he pushed the mop harder against the wood, scrubbing a stubborn black scuff mark near center court.
"Why the hell is this court so filthy?! What kind of lazy bum was in charge of cleaning this before?!"
He threw the mop aside in frustration and stared at the wax and cleaning tools on the cart next to him. The scowl on his face deepened.
"Do I really have to wax this whole thing too? What a pain…"
He tried to convince himself otherwise. "Pfft, no way. That stuff always peels off eventually, doesn't it?"
Despite his complaints, Sakuragi bent down, picked up the waxing brush, and tried again. But after five seconds, he tossed it down again with a scream.
"AAAHHH! This is driving me nuts!!"
Outside the gymnasium, Oliver and the rest of the gang had gathered at the large window, watching the commotion inside.
"Oh? We came just in time. Looks like Hanamichi is officially going crazy," Yohei said, smirking as he leaned against the wall.
"I figured he'd give up way earlier," Takamiya added. "Honestly, I'm surprised he's lasted this long."
"…Hanamichi," Oliver murmured softly, his eyes fixed on the lone figure in the middle of the court.
Oliver had read the manga. He knew that in the story, Sakuragi had once cleaned the entire gym by himself as part of his journey toward joining the basketball team. But watching it in an anime or reading about it in a comic book was one thing. Seeing it unfold in real life was something else entirely.
Only now, standing at the edge of the gym and witnessing the enormous size of the court firsthand, could Oliver appreciate just how ridiculous the idea of one person cleaning all of this truly was.
Inside, Sakuragi took a deep breath and muttered, "Tch. Screw it. I don't care about joining the basketball club anymore!"
He gave the mop a final kick and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Even without joining, I'll beat Rukawa and win Haruko's heart! All I need to do is train with Oliver. That's enough!"
But as he turned toward the exit, something made him stop. His mind drifted back to the conversation in the gym earlier that afternoon.
---
"Sorry, Hanamichi and I are a bundle deal," Oliver had said with a calm grin, refusing Akagi's extended hand.
"If you want me on the team, Hanamichi has to come with me."
Akagi looked bewildered. "Why would someone like you insist on bringing that idiot with you?"
Oliver raised a finger and gave a sly smile. "Because… he's a basketball genius!"
---
Sakuragi stood still for a moment, a strange look crossing his face.
"…Tsk."
Turning away from the exit, he slowly walked back toward the cleaning cart, grabbed the brush and a tub of floor wax, and headed straight toward the dirtiest spot on the court.
Outside, the group watched in disbelief.
"Wait… he's not actually gonna…"
Before they could finish the sentence, Sakuragi knelt down and began scrubbing like his life depended on it. His arms moved like jackhammers, scrubbing with so much force you could practically see sparks fly from the brush. And finally—after minutes of furious effort—the black stain faded away.
"Wahaha! You thought you could defeat this genius? Think again!" Sakuragi laughed triumphantly, holding the brush in one hand and the wax in the other.
He sprinted from one end of the court to the other, slathering wax with reckless speed, rebounding off walls, and charging back again with renewed energy. The others stood frozen at the window, their mouths agape.
"No way… is he seriously doing this?!" Takamiya muttered.
Oliver crossed his arms and smiled. "You guys really underestimated him."
He turned away from the window and began walking off.
"Wait, Oliver—where are you going?" Yohei called out.
"Hold your heads high," Oliver replied without turning around. "It looks like Hanamichi is dead serious this time. You should all head home. He's got this."
The rest of the gang exchanged looks before following Oliver out into the cold night. Inside the gym, Sakuragi Hanamichi continued to mop, wax, and scrub with the fervor of a madman.
---
The next morning, Akagi arrived at the gym bright and early as usual. But when he opened the doors, he froze in place.
"Wh-what the hell…!?"
The gymnasium floor shone so brightly it was like staring at glass. The floorboards gleamed under the sunlight, and even the basketball hoops sparkled. Akagi could hardly believe his eyes.
"This can't be real…"
He took a step forward—and nearly tripped over something lying near the entrance.
"Woah?!"
Akagi looked down to see Sakuragi sprawled across the floor, fast asleep, snoring loudly with a basketball clutched in his arms.
"…Did he do all of this?"
Akagi bent down and picked up the basketball, noticing how clean and polished it was. As he walked to the cart, his jaw dropped further—every single ball had been cleaned and polished, and each had "Sakuragi" scrawled on it in bold black marker.
"…He even signed his name on all of them?" Akagi muttered in disbelief. "This guy…"
He glanced down at the sleeping figure again.
"Undisciplined… reckless… impulsive… an absolute idiot," Akagi said aloud. "But…"
He looked around the pristine gym again and gave a rare smile.
"…He's got more perseverance than anyone I've ever met."
"Haruko-sister…" Sakuragi mumbled in his sleep, grinning like a fool. Drool trickled down his chin.
Akagi's brow twitched in annoyance.
"…Even in your dreams, you're obsessed with my sister?"
He turned around, muttering to himself.
"No way am I letting my sister end up with a moron like you…"
THUMP!
Suddenly, something hard smacked Akagi on the back of the head. He spun around in a fury.
"Who the hell—!?"
Sakuragi, still lying on the floor, had just thrown the basketball… in his sleep. He now had his arms raised in a perfect shooting form.
"How about that, Haruko-chan?" he giggled. "My genius shooting form is way better than Rukawa's, right? Hehehe…"
Akagi stared at him, stunned.
"…Is he practicing basketball… in his dreams?"
Shaking his head, Akagi let out a long sigh. Despite everything—his idiocy, his attitude, and his motives—Sakuragi had done something no one else would've even attempted.
He glanced one last time around the spotless gymnasium.
"Well… for the sake of this gym—and for Oliver—I'll admit it."
He placed the basketball back on the rack and looked down at Sakuragi, who was still dreaming and smiling.
"Sakuragi Hanamichi," Akagi declared solemnly, folding his arms across his chest.
"Welcome to the basketball club."
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