NOVEL NEXT Chapter 10: The Purple Hair Kid
The plane touched down in Japan, but Akira barely noticed the announcement. He stared out the window, the vibrant cityscape of Tokyo unfolding beneath him.
So, this is it, huh?
His parents were excited, chattering about the new opportunities and experiences that awaited them. But Akira stayed quiet, lost in his thoughts. He wasn't angry anymore, just... numb.
As they arrived at their new home, a quaint house in a quiet neighborhood, his parents glanced at him, worry etched on their faces.
"Akira, how are you feeling?" his mother asked gently.
"I'm fine."
After a quick tour of the house, Akira retreated to his room.. He started taking things out of his suitcase and backpack and tidying his room. Posters of Tim Duncan, Spurs, and some games that he liked. He took out the photo he had with his friends from Brave Eagles School and trophies of Tournament MVP and Match MVP and placed it on his desk, giving a long sigh. His room started to look better, but then he only had the clothes to fold and put in the closet, which gave him great discouragement .
The familiar sight of his basketball sticking out of his suitcase caught his eye. Might as well check out that park I saw on the way here.
On his way out, Akira's mother stopped him.
"Don't want to wait for me to go out?" She dries her hand on a cloth.
"Don't worry, I'm fine."
Mom is probably worried about me talking in japanese. I was born in the US but all my family except my father is from Japan, so I learned how to speak since I was a little kid. And everytime I visited Japan to see my grandfathers, I talked freely.
He grabbed the ball and headed out. The streets were quieter than he was used to, the air thick with the unfamiliar scent of the city. When he reached the park, he saw a group of kids playing basketball on a worn-out court.
Looks like the game's the same everywhere, he thought, though he couldn't help but notice the difference in height. The kids here were so... small.
Akira walked onto the court, and the game paused as everyone turned to stare at him. At 1.77m, he towered over them, his presence almost intimidating. But the kids were eager, welcoming him into the game with smiles and nods.
Alright, let's see what you got.
He started playing, but it was almost too easy. His dribbles were too quick, his passes too precise, and his shots too accurate. He wasn't even breaking a sweat. This is it? This is the competition?
With each effortless score, Akira's spirits sank lower. The kids were having fun, but Akira felt nothing. There was no challenge, no thrill. How am I supposed to get better here?
Just as he was about to give up, a shadow fell across the court. Akira turned to see a tall, purple-haired boy sauntering over, his expression one of sheer boredom.
Finally, someone closer to my height. The boy looked like he couldn't care less about being there, but something about his presence intrigued Akira. Maybe... maybe this guy's different.
The boy joined the game, barely acknowledging Akira, which only made Akira more determined. He decided to test him, dribbling the ball and making a quick crossover. The purple-haired boy didn't react, and Akira breezed past him with ease.
Too easy.
He was halfway through his layup when, out of nowhere, a massive hand slammed the ball against the backboard. Akira's eyes widened in shock as he landed, staring up at the boy who had somehow closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
"What?!" Akira said with shining eyes.
The boy smirked lazily. "Hey, you're really good at that, right?"
Akira couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. For the first time since leaving the States, he felt a spark of excitement.
"So are you, big guy."
They played for the rest of the afternoon, the purple-haired boy—Murasakibara—proving to be everything Akira had hoped for. He was strong, fast, and had an instinct for the game that made every move a challenge.
By the time the sun began to set, Akira was drenched in sweat, but he was grinning like an idiot. He sat next to Murasakibara.
"So, are you going to play basketball in middle school?"
"I don't know... playing basketball is very tiring, but I have to join a club..."
"You're that good and you don't even like the sport? Maybe you could guard some player I played against in the USA."
It could be trying to foolish myself, but I'd like to see Murasakibara trying to stop Zion.
"Oh, you are from there? I noticed your accent was a bit different."
So there are monsters here too... Maybe Japan isn't that bad after all.
"Which school are you going to? Have you decided?" Murasakibara asks, showing interest for the first time.
"I think the name is Sekiro Middle School? I am not sure."
"These guys got crushed by the school I'm going to, Teiko." Murasakibara was with two chocolate bars in his mouth, making this phrase barely understandable.
"Well, so I think we are meant to be rivals right?" Akira stands up, tapping his shorts to clean it up. "Don't think that I will play so soft on the real court.
"If you say so."
This guy really doesn't care about basketball. He plays only to eat candy?
He returned home that evening, his steps lighter than they'd been in weeks. His parents noticed the change immediately, relief washing over their faces.
"You look like you had a good time," his father remarked, a smile tugging at his lips.
Akira nodded, still catching his breath.
"Yeah... I did."
His mother's eyes softened, her worries finally easing.
"Tomorrow's your first day of middle school. Feeling better about it?"
"Yeah," Akira said, his voice filled with a new sense of determination. "I think I am."
"What about your clothes? Are you done packing?" Akira's mother asks with a pointed look.
A shiver runs down Akira's spine.
"I... I'm almost done."
As he lay in bed that night, Akira stared up at the ceiling, his mind replaying the events of the day. Maybe this isn't the end of my dream. Maybe... It's just a new beginning.