Disclaimer: I do not own Slam Dunk, Takehiko Inoue does.

A/N: Pardon me for the grammatical errors. Thank you for the reviews.

I resolved to end my relationship with Hanamichi after two days of enduring restless nights. It was a dirty job, as we both knew only too well. He took it difficultly.

Weeks passed in a continuous pace. In like manner, Mitsui would draw me to him without realizing it. It was as though I couldn't care less if he would meet with his girlfriend after practice. However, every time I saw them held hands annoyance would strike me dumb.

"Ever dated anyone lately?" Mitsui asked me one day during lunch.

"No."

"You should try. I know a lot of girls who would crawl on the ground just to say 'hi' to you. Their efforts should pay off, you know."

"Hm."

"Anyway, you wouldn't mind if I tell you something personal, would you? I'm talking to you with respects to your standards, no offense. Anyway, I wish to tell you, you have to be more interactive. I suspect you never got close to having anyone in Shohoku as your friend, so it's high time you scratch the old you." Mitsui advised.

"Hm."

"I can tell you a lot of crazy things about college and my life or someone else's and you may as well consider them personal. But to me, they would just be the usual story I'd tell my friends every day. I'm this concerned because, to be blunt, the way you mingle with others is nothing more than casual chitchats. That means your judgments about social matters need modification."

"Hn."

"Here goes; it's kinda not-your-type-of-topic so you'll just have to adjust a little." He took a deep breath and, "You know, I'm dating this girl from my class. I'll be honest with you and you only; I'm only putting up with her 'cos she's doin' an enormous part of my paper work, my thesis. I know it's wrong but I have no choice but to leave it to her. Now it's almost done, I want to end it…with her, that is. The problem is how to do it?"

I stared at him for a while with the slightest expression that what he said struck me as disconcerting. If he were talking to a more sophisticated person, disgust was what he was sure to get.

"Just tell her then"

"How?"

"Tell her you've grown tired of her and that you don't need her anymore." I said flatly.

"Didn't expect you'd suggest anything. You've grown, you know. You may not have noticed but you have." Mitsui replied, apparently impressed by the fact that I was social enough to take what he said into serious consideration. He continued, "However, that's not how you treat a girl…"

"What else do you have in mind then? It all goes down to one thing: it's over."

"Well, yeah, good point."

He joined me again during lunch the next day.

"I've done it, dumped her. It was sad; she was crying all over. I could have sympathized but her acceptance was the last thing that would be between us. And this is all because I listened to you. Thanks" He beamed at me.

"Hn"

Practice ended at 9pm. Sempai left the gym before I did. I finished fixing my things and walked faster than usual to catch up with him. And there he was, walking alone, whistling to himself.

"Sempai."

He turned to look.

"Oh, going home already?"

I nodded in response. Before I knew it, I was walking beside him.

"Practice went well, didn't it?" he started.

No words came out of my mouth. Nevertheless, we walked silently as we always did, not without any special expectation out of this boring activity, except that I was waiting for the right moment for the words to come out of my mouth. In time, it seemed as though my mouth sprang to life on its own,

"I have to tell you…"

"Tell me what?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I-I've been agonizing over telling you, been feeling like I'm gonna practically explode if I don't…"

"What?"

"…tell you. I don't know. I'm not expecting you to react or do anything about it but if I tell you right now, I'm more than sure you won't talk to me ever again."

"Why not?" he asked with a deeply perplexed expression on his face.

"I can't stop thinking about you. When I wake up, thoughts of you greet me in the morning and that goes on all day long. You. It's all you in my head. You always smile at me as if it was nothing. If only you knew what that poisonous smile would require my mind just to have a small clearing…you wait for me outside my class as if I can't find my own way to the gym. You sit with me during lunch time when you obviously can have more fun hanging out with your popular friends. You praise my game as though those lay-ups I pull up every night are worth exalting like an actual levitation, when I used to do that every time at Shohoku effortlessly. And lastly why, why do you have to be so nice and at the same time infectious? You think you can just come to me and be intimate, almost affectionate, all the time and expect no impact from it all? And don't tell me that that's just being friendly. If so, you would do better with reshaping your impaired, disfigured thinking by toasting your brain like cashew nuts. There, that's all I've got to say. You may throw up now; there's a trash bin over there." I said, pointing my shaking finger to a trash can.

I stood there, waiting for him to speak. But then it was as good as waiting for fireworks to light up the purple sky, celebrating the year 3090. He turned his head away and slowly, his torso followed. His left foot turned to its heel and his right foot lifted to take the first of the 800 steps he took just to get away from this madman who was insane enough to proclaim his love beneath the starless night sky. I didn't get a glimpse of his eyes to give me hints about how he deeply took it.

I walked alone again for the hundredth time. I looked up the sky and realized it wasn't starless at all; it was all in my head, just as what Mitsui's evident interests in me had been all along. That was me and my disillusioned head.

With two wrong decisions in one year, I was lucky to still feel alive.

Yet he continued to wait for me outside my classroom during practice days. He never stopped sitting with me during lunch nor did he stop saving me a seat whenever I was late for team meetings. I never responded to any of these, after taking risks just to mess up things for myself again. No, I wouldn't do that-not when I was left with almost nothing. But come to think of it, there was nothing to risk nor was there anything to lose. And I never solved the puzzle as to why Mitsui never stopped treating me like some fragile chinaware. If he held for me any attraction which he couldn't disperse, he was very successful in making me feel so.

...

One fateful day,

"Kitsune, care for coffee?" It was Hanamichi.

"…"

"It wouldn't hurt, would it?" He said with a pleasant grin.

"S-Sure…okay." I smiled nervously.

Grunge wasn't dead after all.

END