Chapter 10
The location near the stadium was a bit off, and it took Kuroko and Tetsuya Kuroko quite some time to get to the nearby hospital.
Tetsuya went to register Kuroko, then accompanied him through all the medical examinations. By the time the results came back, it was nearly four o’clock.
Before the two could return with the reports to see the doctor, Narutaka Ogiwara called: “Kuroko! Are you alright?”
Kuroko was momentarily stunned. “Ogiwara-kun? Did something happen?”
Why was he calling at this time? And why the urgent tone?
“Don’t you remember?” Ogiwara sounded panicked. Could he really have given Kuroko a concussion?
“Remember what?” Kuroko replied, confused.
Ogiwara’s voice was full of embarrassment. “I bumped into you around noon at the corner. You seemed dazed, so I took you to the infirmary. Later, we had a meeting, and when I saw your teammates arrive, I left first... wait a moment.”
Kuroko’s confused expression left Kuroko Tetsuya, who was flipping through the report sheets beside him, equally bewildered. He mouthed, “Who? What’s going on?”
“It’s my childhood friend. He says he bumped into me,” Kuroko replied, his memory fuzzy.
Tetsuya didn’t expect that development either. “Huh? What a coincidence.”
To actually run into his own childhood friend like that...
On the other end, Ogiwara seemed to turn and say something to a teammate. After a brief silence, he continued, “Where are you now? I’ll come find you. Also, our match just finished—Meiko won all their games and advanced. We’ll be facing each other on the court soon!”
“Congratulations. I’m at the First Hospital now. All the tests are done, and the reports show nothing abnormal,” Kuroko said flatly.
He had thought hearing about Meiko’s smooth advancement would make him happy, but...
Seeing Kuroko’s sudden drop in spirits, Tetsuya was at a loss. “Kuroko?”
Over their conversations, he had come to know that Kuroko was actually quite reserved emotionally.
For him to show such obvious unhappiness meant two things: one, he trusted Tetsuya enough; two, something truly terrible must have happened.
Kuroko hung up Ogiwara’s call and let out a long sigh.
“Let’s talk about it later,” he said, needing to gather his thoughts.
Right now, he felt utterly exhausted. In recent days, he had been lifted up on fabricated lies, only to be brutally knocked down from the highest peak.
Seijuro Akashi had asked him, “Is the truth really that important?”
Kuroko didn’t know how to answer.
Perhaps it wasn’t important to him, but even if the motive was for his own good, such methods should not have been used.
Between him and the others at Meiko, there was now a chasm as deep as the grandest divide.
After confirming with the doctor that Kuroko had no serious injury—only superficial bruises that would heal in a few days—Tetsuya found a quiet corner nearby to listen to Kuroko’s troubles.
Kuroko was completely open with Tetsuya, recounting everything that had happened recently.
From his awkward position on the team, to Meiko’s current coaching philosophy, the increasingly vague training programs, and the recent incidents of point-stealing and deception during matches, Kuroko told it all in detail.
Tetsuya’s expression evolved from quiet attentiveness to puzzled, and finally, to a strange mix of guilt.
Though he believed his own attitude toward the game had always been proper, the juniors he coached...
Well, once Kindaichi and Kunimi joined, he would have to properly teach those two.
But ultimately, Meiko had taken things too far, and it was only natural that Kuroko felt lost caught in the middle.
Sitting on a bench in the hospital corridor, Kuroko clenched the crumpled paper in his hand into a small ball. “Tetsuya-senpai, what am I supposed to do...?”
“I haven’t encountered a situation like this before, but it seems your teammates are quite stubborn in their own way,” Tetsuya leaned back in the chair. “Only I can beat myself? How arrogant.”
After gathering his thoughts, Tetsuya spoke slowly, “I don’t know much about basketball, but I do know there aren’t many basketball prodigies among Asians. If they think that way, maybe they should push harder to go global.”
“To limit their vision to middle or high school basketball... it’s shortsighted, and yet somehow absurd.”
“But middle school is still too early. When they reach their sophomore and senior years, the national youth team coaches will come. If they keep playing, maybe they’ll get a chance to go abroad.”
Talented individuals are rare, and Meiko’s players were once-in-a-century geniuses.
But perseverance and persistence are equally important measures of a person.
Love and passion reveal themselves over time. If they truly love the sport, they won’t give up easily, even through tedious training.
So, in the end... the true outcome only shows in the future.
“Kuroko, you don’t need to be too anxious. Since you can’t change them now, let time bear witness,” Tetsuya said, not fully closing the matter.
After all, to him, those guys were just overgrown kids who would mature eventually.
He also understood Kuroko had no way to straighten out their mindsets, and from what Kuroko said, those players were somewhat rebellious.
In such cases, perhaps doing nothing is best.
Let the middle school years pass; Meiko’s elite education itself is a heavy mental burden.
Once they change environment in high school, things should improve.
Tetsuya patted Kuroko’s shoulder. “Since you can’t get along on the court anymore, just put it aside for now. Try to find your rhythm in daily life and don’t push yourself too hard.”
“There are no more matches this year, right?”
Having gone through similar experiences, Tetsuya knew some people needed time to smooth out their rough edges.
Looking back at what he did in his youth, it was hard to watch. If it were him now, he’d handle things better.
Kuroko remained silent.
He understood Tetsuya’s words made sense, but giving up wasn’t his nature. Yet, in his current injured state, Akashi wouldn’t allow him to play.
What about his promise to Ogiwara...?
No, he was no longer the same as in elementary school.
Now he had the ability to freely choose his school. Even if he went to the neighboring prefecture to play alongside Ogiwara in high school, that would be a good option.
“Thank you, Tetsuya-senpai,” Kuroko looked up quietly at the dusk outside the window. “I think I understand now.”
Kuroko Tetsuya and his Meiko teammates had once been inseparable close friends, but no matter how deep the bond, lies would erode it to nothing.
Kuroko was neither a superman nor a saint.
He couldn’t save withered hearts nor pull back those who had already jumped off the cliff.
If the Generation of Miracles had truly lost their passion, no matter how hard he tried, he would only be binding himself in a cocoon—and in the end, only he would be hurt.
At this stage, he couldn’t imagine how to mend it all because they had already gone their separate ways.
They could be good friends, but their differing ideals meant they could no longer be good teammates.
From now on, their basketball paths might truly diverge.
So...
There was no going back.
The Miracles would surely receive invitations from prestigious schools, but unnoticed, Kuroko had neither an invitation nor the grades to enter those top schools.
Kuroko thought he would find an ordinary school, live an ordinary life, and have teammates who, while not strong, shared his love for basketball.
He would give his all for every victory, cheer joyfully for every point scored.
Just like... Meiko used to be.
If this was Meiko’s end, he would bear witness properly.
Starting with Meiko’s championship in first year of middle school, and ending with this championship, he would close these two years perfectly.
Kuroko suddenly relaxed, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, he opened them again, now free of confusion and pain.
“Tetsuya-senpai.”
“Hmm?”
“I thought you’d tell me to switch to volleyball at Aoba Johsai or something.”
“No way. The cool Tetsuya-senpai would never take advantage of you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Anyway, I probably can’t play in the next game. Tomorrow, I’ll take a day off and bring you to watch Meiko’s match, and maybe check out the high school Inter-High preliminaries.”
“Not going to watch Meiko’s game?”
“Nothing interesting about it... I just don’t want to.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
In the empty infirmary, Seijuro Akashi’s face showed rare confusion.
Dr. Osamu had already left, and no one answered Kuroko’s phone. Suddenly, he had no news of Kuroko at all.
Although he could order an investigation, this was the first time Kuroko had so willingly slipped out of his control.
It seemed something was quietly changing where he hadn’t noticed.
Akashi’s expression darkened.
He didn’t like this feeling.
“Ah, you’re... Akashi-kun?” A somewhat unfamiliar voice came from behind, but Akashi recognized it.
It was Kuroko’s childhood friend, Narutaka Ogiwara.
Akashi turned around. “Nice to meet you, Ogiwara-kun. What brings you here?”
“Haha, Kuroko left something here. I just came to bring it back,” Ogiwara said, coming to pick up the medicine Dr. Osamu had prescribed for Kuroko.
Though called medicine, it was just a bottle of vitamin tablets.
Osamu had taken the trouble to find a new bottle for Kuroko, but since Kuroko was at the hospital, he asked Ogiwara to pick it up.
Akashi let Ogiwara in, watching as he found the doctor’s instructions and the bottle on the desk.
Ogiwara pocketed the items and looked at Akashi. “You... are Kuroko’s captain, right?”
“That’s me. Is there a problem?” Akashi said coldly, showing no trace of warmth.
“Has something happened to Kuroko recently? He seems very unhappy,” Ogiwara asked bluntly, unaware of the tension.
Akashi didn’t respond, just stared silently at him.