The instant Makino Juro passed by Morishige Hiroshi—
He casually leaned his shoulder forward.
The movement looked no different from someone squeezing through a crowded train.
Light.
Effortless.
But at the exact moment of contact...
An exquisitely controlled force slipped perfectly into the blind spot of Morishige's center of gravity.
Makino Juro wasn't just using Atsushi Murasakibara's template.
He had also incorporated the principles of Tai Chi and Bajiquan.
"Hm?"
For the first time, confusion appeared on Morishige's usually vacant face.
That... shouldn't be possible.
It felt as if a tank had slammed into him.
His enormous body tilted uncontrollably to one side.
BOOM!!
A thunderous crash echoed through the corridor.
Before the horrified eyes of Meihou Technical's players...
The unstoppable monster of the paint...
The giant no one had ever knocked down—
Collapsed to the floor in an embarrassingly awkward heap.
His massive body even slid nearly two meters across the polished flooring.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even Sakuragi Hanamichi, who had just climbed back to his feet, stood frozen.
His mouth hung wide enough to fit an entire egg.
Morishige sat on the floor blankly and slowly looked up.
Makino Juro had already stopped walking.
He turned his head slightly.
His sunglasses slid down to the bridge of his nose, revealing a pair of icy, emotionless eyes as he looked down at the giant from above.
A graceful yet utterly provocative smile curved across his lips.
Then he calmly returned Morishige's own words—
Word for word.
"Oh."
"I'm sorry too."
"The hallway's a little narrow."
"Next time..."
"...try losing some weight."
Everyone stood rooted to the spot, still reeling from the shock.
As for the culprit behind the commotion...
Makino Juro acted as though nothing had happened.
One hand in his pocket.
Sunglasses back on.
Looking completely detached from the world.
The lazy expression on his face made it seem as though the person who had casually knocked Morishige flat wasn't him at all.
Behind him...
Sakuragi was still standing there with the expression of a world-famous painting.
His jaw practically hanging off his face.
"Hey, Sakuragi."
"Are you coming or not?"
Without even turning around, Juro called lazily over his shoulder, his teasing tone as irritating as ever.
Sakuragi jolted back to reality.
He glanced at Morishige, who was slowly climbing to his feet, his expression growing visibly darker.
Then he looked at Makino Juro's seemingly slender back.
"W-Wait for me, Master, you bastard!"
"This genius was just careless!"
"The floor was too slippery!"
"If we did it again, I'd definitely throw him with my King Kong Little Brother Shoulder Toss!"
His long legs immediately carried him after Makino Juro.
Even as he ran, he kept muttering excuses, desperately trying to save face.
"Right, right. Geniuses always slip. And the floor is always covered in oil."
Makino Juro replied absentmindedly.
"You damned Master!"
"What kind of half-hearted response was that?!"
Their bickering gradually faded into the distance...
Leaving behind a crowd of utterly dumbfounded spectators.
...
Several hundred kilometers away.
Osaka.
This was an entirely different world from Kanagawa.
Noisy.
Sweltering.
The air was filled with the aroma of takoyaki sauce and the booming voices of Kansai dialect.
Even the background music seemed to come with an upbeat rhythm.
Aida Hikoichi walked through the bustling streets with his trademark shoulder bag slung across his back.
A tightly gripped letter rested in his hand.
The neon signs around him flashed more wildly than a nightclub.
Yet he felt completely isolated from the world.
"Aki..."
Hikoichi lowered his head and stared at the familiar handwriting on the envelope.
Ohkawa Teruo.
His best friend from middle school.
The guy had shamelessly bragged throughout the letter that he'd entered Toyotama High—one of Osaka's basketball powerhouses—and had already become a first-string player as a freshman.
Every line practically screamed:
"I've accepted it. I'm a genius."
Hikoichi, did Ryonan make the Inter-High?
I'm looking forward to teaching you a lesson at Nationals.
The moment Hikoichi read that sentence...
His feet felt as heavy as lead.
His vision blurred instantly.
His nose stung as though he'd swallowed an entire lemon.
Inter-High.
Those two words pierced straight through his heart.
"So close..."
Hikoichi sniffed hard and roughly wiped his eyes, trying to force the tears back.
Really...
They had been just one tiny step away.
If only Sendoh-senpai had made a few more miracle shots...
If only Captain Uozumi hadn't fouled out...
But sports never dealt in "what ifs."
Only results.
The bustling street seemed to fall silent.
Hikoichi's thoughts drifted uncontrollably backward...
Returning to that afternoon filled with sweat...
And tears.
...
The memory took on a faded golden hue.
Ryonan's basketball gym.
The setting sun streamed through the high windows, stretching long shadows across the hardwood floor.
The atmosphere was so heavy it was hard to breathe.
It was the day after the prefectural tournament.
Everyone had assumed it would be another ordinary practice.
Instead...
It became a farewell.
Uozumi Jun.
The captain who usually roared like King Kong.
And vice-captain Ikegami Ryoji.
Both stood before the team wearing plain white shirts.
"Everyone."
Uozumi spoke.
His voice was hoarse.
Gone was his usual thunderous authority.
In its place...
Was the weary calm of someone who had accepted reality.
"I've turned eighteen."
He paused and slowly looked across every face in the gym.
Finally, his eyes settled on Sendoh...
Then Fukuda.
It almost felt like he was leaving behind his final wishes.
"Starting today..."
"I'm leaving to pursue my own path."
"It's a promise I made to my father when I was little."
"I'm the eldest son."
"I'm the only one who can inherit the family business."
The gym erupted.
Koshino and Uekusa stared with wide eyes, exchanging bewildered looks.
"Pursue... your own path?"
Uozumi inhaled deeply.
As though gathering every ounce of courage left inside him.
Then he shouted out the dream that left everyone speechless.
"My dream..."
"...is to become a chef!!"
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even the air itself seemed frozen.
Even Sendoh...
Who normally remained calm no matter what happened—
Dropped the basketball in his hand onto his own foot with a loud thud.
"A... chef?!"
Koshino's jaw nearly dislocated.
"Captain... you're becoming a chef?!"
Uozumi ignored everyone's shock.
The fierce giant who usually looked terrifying...
Now had eyes as red as a child who had been wronged.
His trembling lips quivered.
His vision gradually blurred.
Three years of memories replayed through his mind like a film.
The days Coach Taoka had scolded him relentlessly...
The hellish practices that left him vomiting until nothing but bile remained...
His fateful showdown with Akagi Takenori—
The legendary clash of the two "gorillas."
And...
The National Tournament he never managed to reach.
"What our generation..."
Uozumi's voice caught in his throat.
Tears rolled down his rough cheeks.
Every drop carried years of regret.
"...couldn't accomplish..."
"...I'll leave it to all of you."
He bent deeply at the waist.
The body that had always seemed as immovable as a mountain...
Now looked unbelievably fragile.
Yet at the same time...
Greater than ever.
"Go..."
"...to..."
"...Nationals..."
Every word seemed to be torn straight from his heart.
Each one burned with unbearable sincerity.
"Captain!!"
Hikoichi finally broke down.
He burst into tears on the spot.
"YES!!"
Every member of the team roared in unison.
Their voices shattered the evening silence.
The passion in that shout was enough to make anyone's blood boil.
Uozumi raised his head and hastily wiped away his tears.
Then he placed his enormous hand firmly on the shoulder of the spiky-haired boy before him.
"Sendoh."
"From now on..."
"You're the captain of the Ryonan ship."
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
👉 patreon.com/MrBehringer