Slam Dunk Fan Fiction ❯ Shohoku's Pride ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

PROLOGUE:

Kaede Rukawa was a teenager driven by the obsession to succeed. No, it did not necessarily equate with win. In his not-so-humble opinion, none of his teammates in Shohoku High School's basketball club could measure up with his talent on the hard court. The only player who matched him speed for speed, power for power, he reluctantly admitted was Akira Sendoh of Ryonan High. No, correction. It wasn't just Sendoh. He mustn't forget Ryokufu High's American-trained captain, Michael Okita. He envied Michael, that much was certain. He too longed to go to that land of milk and honey where hoop dreams came true. Despite his long talk with Anzai-sensei, the dream continued to burn inside his heart.

A gentle breeze caressed Rukawa's face, urging him to gaze up into the glowing full moon. He blinked at the sight of the shooting star that zipped across its face. A superstitious urge made him close his eyes and wish.

Please, he begged earnestly. Let me succeed in this. Let this hoop dream take me away from the nightmare of my past.

The Rukawa Shinietai had always shown their near fanatical obsession toward the handsome Super Rookie. But anyone who would have stumbled upon Rukawa at that unguarded moment would've fallen in love with him at first sight.

With the mask down, Rukawa's features softened that he looked almost...innocent. Long lashes were silk curtains over his closed almond eyes, small, pouty lips now curled up in a sweet smile. Graceful fingers that never failed to drive the ball it held into the opponent's goal ran through his soft, tousled ebony mane. In the moonlight, Rukawa was Endymion awakened.

When he opened his eyes once more, his hand tightened around the strap of his bag in determination.

"Forgive me, Sensei," he muttered, remembering the kindly old man who was the coach of Team Shohoku. "After the Inter High, I'm going to America, I owe it to myself to try to make it to the NBA. If I don't, I'll never be able to escape from my past. That's the only way that I could free myself from the monster that haunts my nights."

As he said this, a chill enveloped him in its frigid embrace, causing an uncharacteristic shudder to well up inside him. Shaking away the cold, Rukawa continued on his way back home, and hopefully to a warm bed and a good night's sleep.

A light giggle escaped Rukawa's lips at that thought. Who was he kidding? He never had a good night's sleep since he was seven. It was only when the sun kissed his face that somnolence would come. Unfortunately, school demanded that he be awake and alert, or else, he would lose his place in the team. There had been a close call, but he and the other misfits of Team Shohoku were able to pass the remedial test, thanks to an all night cramming session at Akagi Takenori's house. Maybe it was an act of Divine Providence that he had passed that difficult exam, having spent most of his study time sleeping, much to the chagrin of that baka Sakuragi Hanamichi.

The mere thought of that brash, loud-mouthed redhead caused Rukawa's face to turn as hard as stone once more. Sakuragi never failed to get on his goat. It irked him to no end that the doahou always refused to pass the ball to him during critical moments of a game. In him, Sakuragi saw a bitter rival for ace in Team Shohoku and for the hand of Akagi's sister, Haruko. If only that fool knew that Rukawa hadn't the slightest interest in her.

Recalling his penchant for falling sound asleep on his bike as he pedaled his way to school, Rukawa smirked wickedly. Despite being in a stupor, he vividly remembered each and every occasion that he had collided with or ran over the redhead. Perhaps, when he hit the big leagues, he could trade his trusty bike in for a heavy duty Harley or, even better, a car. Sakuragi would have to be Superman to get up after being run over by either of those two.

Rukawa snorted in disgust. But then again, doahou that he is, he would probably be too stupid to stay flattened on the pavement like roadkill. Sakuragi was like the Energizer Bunny. He just kept on going...and going...and going. He's not as cute though.

The Super Rookie did a double take at that thought. Cute? Where the hell did that descriptive come from? Not even a blind man would call that baka "cute"! He doubted if women thought that obnoxious fool to be attractive. If he were "cute", Sakuragi would never have established his world record of being dumped fifty consecutive times in the three years that he was in Wako Junior High.

Still, there was something about Sakuragi Hanamichi....

A foul-tempered amateur, it was his unpredictability that helped Team Shohoku through its toughest crises. And it wasn't just during their games. Wasn't it Sakuragi who saved Anzai-sensei's life? With reluctance, Rukawa admitted that the redhead had saved him, too, from his self-obsession, that vicious single-mindedness that blocked out his teammates. Rukawa believed himself to be Team Shohoku...until Sakuragi stunned them with a quick eluding move and blocking jump that exceeded their towering center's. Then, there's the redhead's big mouth, his quickness to readily point out his mistakes.

"Doahou!"

"Kitsune!"

That was always their heated exchange. But Sakuragi was right. If they were to win, they certainly wouldn't do so on Rukawa's valiant efforts alone. He needed them, just as they needed him.

"Damn you, Doahou!" Rukawa cursed under his breath. "Unlike the others, I do not need you!"

At that moment, the heavens made known immediately its displeasure. Rukawa jumped out of his skin as lightning streaked across the sky and thunder exploded all around him. Shohoku's ace was shocked to see large, black rain clouds cover the face of the full moon. A fat raindrop even fell into his dark blue almond eye.

"Kuso!" he exclaimed, breaking into a run as he headed straight for home.

In his haste to get out of the rain, Rukawa failed to notice the black limousine that was parked at the far corner of the street or how the doorknob turned easily in his hand, when it required the turn of a key. Neither did he sense the sinister shadow lurking in the darkness behind the door.

It was only when the door clicked shut, that unmistakable sound of the push of the lock, did he stop five paces inside the living room.

"So this is where you've been hiding, Rukawa-chan," a low-smooth voice whispered behind him. "How long has it been? But it doesn't matter." A smack of lips. "My, you've grown to be quite a handsome young man!"

Rukawa's blood ran cold, brain numbing fear making him unable to move, much more flee or fight back. Goose bumps rose on his skin as a strong hand grabbed his wrist, twisting it, that he dropped his bag with a thud to the floor. That hand fluttered down to his waist, the arm behind it snaking around him, refusing to let him go. A tear trickled from his eye as that other hand tore his white shirt open, buttons flying, to reach inside and cup his chest. Just like nine years ago, the tiny nipples hardened into tight pebbles.

As Rukawa was pulled into that familiar, loathsome embrace, he heard the man behind him chuckle. "Your mother asked me to tell you that she misses you."

"Kaasan..." Rukawa's voice rose in pitch and he cursed himself for sounding like a child. A poor, defenseless child.

But with one slimy lick of a tongue on his earlobe, his tears began to pour like the rain outside.

As he was led inside the bedroom, his unexpected visitor giggled once more. "Oh, Ru-chan! Your ojisan missed you so much!"