Kuroko: Mahoraga - Chapter 81: Expressing Oneself Authentically. Leaving the Team! (Patreon)

Masato had no idea that a simple one-on-one game had inspired so many thoughts in Masami Ishihara. Even if he had known, he probably would have laughed it off. As far as he was concerned, he'd only done what felt right in the moment.

He had always admired Bruce Lee, particularly his belief in honestly expressing oneself. Lee had used martial arts as a means of exploring his true self. Masato was doing much the same thing, except that basketball was his chosen path. Their methods differed, but the goal was the same.

Ever since the game against Teikō, when he'd finally let go of the burdens he'd been carrying, Masato felt he'd taken another step along that path. And over the past few days, he'd discovered that basketball could bring him joy beyond the competition itself.

His little encounter with the girl and her father was a perfect example.

Broadening his understanding of what the game could mean had given him a sense of fulfillment that, in some ways, surpassed even awakening Pinnacle of Perfection.

...

As for the interview that afternoon, the rest of it went smoothly. Masami accompanied Masato throughout his workout, recording what he did.

Because she was interviewing him, he didn't train at Kawari's Basketball Club. He didn't want her presence distracting the other players, so he went to a nearby gym and did some strength training and cardio instead.

Along with documenting his workouts, Masami got to see what Masato was like in everyday life.

There were no loaded questions about his supposed old grudge against Teikō, nor any of the traps reporters sometimes set to provoke a sensational answer. None at all.

Masami might have been a journalist, but she was also a genuine fan of Masato's. She had no intention of treating him that way.

The entire interview proceeded at Masato's pace. By the time it ended, Masami felt she'd gotten more than she could have hoped for.

It was almost as if someone from another dimension had suddenly stepped into her everyday world. Masato's emergence had been so spectacular that many people still struggled to believe he was real.

And after watching him train from beginning to end, she was struck by something else. A genius wasn't defined by talent alone. There was also a degree of concentration that ordinary people simply didn't possess.

Masami was practically buzzing with excitement. She already knew what she wanted to write: an article showing fans a more genuine side of Masato, beyond the highlights and headlines.

She'd only recently finished an exhausting stretch of work, but she wasn't tired in the slightest. If anything, she couldn't wait to get started on this article.

Before either of them realized it, the day's interview had come to an enjoyable end. Masami insisted on treating Masato to dinner as thanks, and they went their separate ways after the meal.

...

The interview was only a brief diversion during the school break. Afterward, Masato returned to his usual routine.

He stopped visiting the pickup courts and spent his days training instead. Yet he didn't find the routine boring. Quite the opposite. He enjoyed every moment of it.

In the past, training had rewarded him only when the numbers on his status panel increased. Now, he could immerse himself fully in the process. Every movement and every small adjustment brought its own satisfaction.

He no longer needed the panel to tell him his efforts were worthwhile.

His training had become something purer. Perhaps this was what Bruce Lee meant by honestly expressing oneself.

Without anyone quite noticing when it happened, that change began to affect his teammates as well.

Previously, whenever Masato trained, there had been an air of seriousness around him. The other players could sense it, and it unconsciously influenced the way they behaved.

Now, however, he carried a relaxed, cheerful energy that drew people toward him. Training alongside Masato no longer felt like the same old grind, and the quality of their practice improved.

The Basketball Club's enthusiasm rose once again, and as the days passed in steady improvement, time seemed to fly.

...

Another half a month or so went by.

One day, the entire Kawari Basketball Club assembled. Even the third-year seniors who had all but disappeared after the National Tournament were there.

It was the day of their retirement from the team.

The ceremony was far less stiff or solemn than anyone might have expected. Nobody had to stand in front of the entire club and deliver a grand speech, which was probably for the best.

The point was simply to say goodbye. After today, the third-years would no longer be members of the Basketball Club.

Some of them probably didn't even realize that this could be the last time they ever saw one another.

That was how relationships worked sometimes. People said goodbye as casually as they had a hundred times before, only to discover later that they would never meet again.

Coach Nakamura was a middle-aged man who'd seen enough of life to understand that. He saw no reason to turn the farewell into a solemn formality. Instead, he let the boys express their friendship however they liked.

"Let's keep in touch."

"I'll come visit you."

Promises like those could be heard all around the gym.

Masato watched the players quietly, his thoughts drifting back to his previous life.

During his final year of high school, after the National High School Basketball Championship, he'd gone through a farewell much like this one. Everyone had promised to stay in touch.

But after he left that close-knit group, he'd slowly come to understand how many friendships depended on the circumstances that brought people together. Once those circumstances disappeared, so did the closeness. Those bonds weren't always as unbreakable as they seemed.

Masato wasn't usually sentimental. The scene had simply brought back old memories. Still, he'd be lying if he said he felt nothing.

He'd spent far less time at Kawari than at Teikō, yet his attachment to Kawari was much stronger. However limited his teammates' abilities might have been, they'd fought their way through an entire National Tournament together.

He was still lost in thought when a voice brought him back.

"Masa, I haven't had a chance to talk to you since the Nationals."

It was Ryota, Kawari's former captain. He scratched his head and smiled a little awkwardly.

"I wanted to thank you in person. You took us all the way to the Round of 16 at Nationals!"

There wasn't a trace of insincerity in his gratitude. Yet looking at Ryota's almost bashful expression, Masato couldn't shake the feeling that Ryota was a little afraid of him.

"Don't say that. Basketball's a team sport. We got that far because everyone contributed," Masato replied with a smile and a shake of his head.

Ryota grew serious.

"Masa, other people might be able to say that, but I can't. I know better than anyone what Kawari was like before you arrived."

"And I've benefited from it myself," he added, his gratitude plain to see. "Because we made the Round of 16, a high school actually offered me a place on its basketball team. It's not a particularly impressive school, but it means I can keep playing after I graduate!"

He was clearly excited, and Masato was genuinely happy for him. He hadn't expected the former captain to attract the attention of a high school team.

It wasn't that he looked down on Ryota. It was just... well, that jump-ball technique of his had certainly been something.

Still, hearing about high school recruitment made Masato curious.

"Congratulations! What about the others?"

Some of the excitement left Ryota's face. He shook his head.

"They've all found schools, but none of them were recruited for basketball. I guess most of them won't keep playing once they get to high school."

Masato nodded without much surprise. That was more or less what he'd expected.

Talent could be cruel. You either had it or you didn't, and after spending so much time with these players, he knew that many of them simply weren't gifted at basketball.

But in his view, talent wasn't even the most important thing. A lot of people lacked the focus required to improve, which often meant their love for the game wasn't all that deep to begin with.

For those players, devoting their energy to schoolwork instead of basketball might be a better choice.

Ryota had only intended to come over and thank him. But watching Masato's steady, composed manner, he suddenly found himself reflecting on something else.

"Masa, do you remember Kazuya Ozawa?"

Masato blinked, thought for a moment, and shook his head. He couldn't imagine why Ryota had brought up that name.

"Ah, I figured you'd forgotten. He was that third-year you beat so badly he quit the club when you first joined."

Ryota sighed before continuing.

"Actually, don't laugh, but I was a little scared of you from that day on. I was worried you'd use your strength to challenge me the way you went after Ozawa. I was the captain. Imagine how embarrassing that would've been!"

"But the longer I knew you, the more I realized you weren't that kind of person at all. In the end, I was perfectly willing to hand the captaincy over to you, and you wouldn't even accept it."

He let out another sigh and looked at Masato with genuine admiration.

"Turns out you're a natural leader. And that has nothing to do with how strong you are."

Masato finally understood. So that faint impression he'd always had, that Ryota was afraid of him, hadn't been his imagination after all. He just hadn't known it had started so early.

He couldn't help laughing. Ryota was about to graduate, and he'd finally decided to get everything off his chest.

They chatted a little longer before Ryota spoke again, this time with a more serious expression.

"Give it your best next semester, Masa. I'll come watch all your games!"

"Of course! And I hope everything goes well for you in high school, senpai!"

"..."