Chapter 190: Emperor Kakuta
The hospital room fell into a brief silence.
Only Coach Anzai's rhythmic snoring echoed through the room, almost as if it were his way of responding to his wife's words.
Standing by the doorway, Makino Juro watched the scene unfold, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
This...
This was Shohoku.
It wasn't merely a basketball team.
It was a family.
"Alright, the emotional scene is over. You can turn off the background music now."
Makino Juro suddenly spoke, shattering the warm atmosphere.
He raised his wrist and glanced at his expensive sports watch.
"Since the old man is fine, let's stop being third wheels and get out of here."
Turning around, his gaze swept across everyone.
His tone instantly turned serious, carrying an authority that left no room for argument.
"The doctor said Coach needs complete rest."
"He probably won't be able to attend the upcoming National Tournament games."
Everyone's heart sank.
This was the worst possible news.
Without their coach guiding them, Shohoku's battleship had lost its captain.
Could they really keep sailing?
"What?"
"Why does everyone look like that?"
"Scared?"
Makino Juro raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with arrogance and amusement.
"As if!"
"The great genius has nothing to fear!"
"Even if Old Man isn't there, this genius can still lead everyone to victory!"
"Just give me the ball!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi was the first to leap to his feet.
"Idiot."
Rukawa Kaede replied coldly with only two words.
Yet the fighting spirit blazing in his eyes betrayed him.
"Juro's right."
With Akagi Takenori still in America, Mitsui Hisashi stepped forward.
He glanced at the sleeping Coach Anzai, took a deep breath, then turned to face everyone.
"Coach collapsed because he worried too much about us."
"So that means..."
"We absolutely cannot lose."
"We're going to bring the championship trophy right into this hospital room..."
"...and let the old man use it as his pillow."
Mitsui didn't speak loudly.
But his words carried the unwavering resolve of a man who had clawed his way back from rock bottom.
"Yeah!!"
Everyone answered in low, determined voices.
It wasn't a cheer.
It was an oath.
Mrs. Anzai smiled warmly as she looked at the spirited group of boys.
"Go on, children."
"I'll take care of everything here."
...
Outside the hospital, a cool night breeze carried the lingering warmth of early summer.
The star-filled sky stretched across Kanagawa.
"Hey, Juro."
Miyagi Ryota suddenly sidled up beside him and jabbed him in the waist with an elbow, grinning mischievously.
"That funeral face you had outside the hospital room..."
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
"On purpose?"
Makino Juro feigned ignorance as he opened his car door.
"Quit pretending!"
"You already knew Coach was fine!"
"You were just messing with us!"
"I nearly cried my eyes out back there!"
"You're absolutely evil!"
"You're a freaking demon!"
Mitsui finally pieced it together and immediately exploded.
"I looked like that because I was tired."
Makino Juro slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.
The silver-gray supercar let out a low growl, like a beast awakening from its slumber.
"Besides..."
"If I don't put a little pressure on you guys..."
"...will you really fight with everything you've got at Nationals?"
He lowered the driver's window and casually rested one hand on the steering wheel.
The streetlights outlined the sharp angles of his face, giving him an effortlessly handsome look.
"Get in."
"Where are we going?"
"Daifuku Yakiniku."
A familiar, slightly roguish grin spread across Makino Juro's face.
"We're celebrating the old man's recovery."
"My treat tonight."
"Eat all the meat you want."
"Don't hold back."
"Yahoo!! Long live Juro!!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi instantly came back to life.
He practically sprinted toward a waiting taxi.
"I'm going to bankrupt you!"
"I'm eating enough for ten people!"
"Count me in!"
"I'm going to make the restaurant owner cry!"
The supercar roared into the night, leaving behind a trail of youthful laughter and playful shouting.
Behind them...
In one of the hospital windows...
Coach Anzai rolled over in his sleep and smacked his lips.
Perhaps...
Even in his dreams...
He had already caught the scent of sizzling barbecue.
...
Orlando, United States.
The blazing midday sun poured through the rehabilitation center's floor-to-ceiling windows, baking the floor beneath.
Akagi Takenori gripped the telephone receiver so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
The towel in his other hand had been soaked through with cold sweat.
His chest heaved violently, his breathing ragged like a bellows stretched to its limit.
"I see..."
"That's good..."
"That's really good..."
Mrs. Anzai's gentle voice flowed through the receiver.
It was like a bucket of ice water poured over the wildfire of anxiety burning in his heart.
After hanging up...
Akagi's legs gave out.
He slowly slid down the wall until he sat on the floor.
"Haa..."
He let out a long breath.
The burning pain in his lungs finally disappeared.
Coach Anzai was alright.
That old man...
Who always smiled like a laughing Buddha...
Who occasionally had a mischievous side...
Was still here.
Shohoku's soul...
Hadn't been lost.
The National Tournament...
Just wait.
Now that his greatest worry was gone...
He would stand on the highest stage...
And let the entire country hear Shohoku's roar.
...
Meanwhile...
Kanagawa Prefectural Gymnasium.
The awards ceremony had begun.
Spotlights flooded the center of the court as if electricity were free.
The spectators stretched their necks, eager to see the dark horse that had dethroned the mighty Kainan.
"And now..."
"Please welcome the champions of this year's Kanagawa Prefectural Tournament..."
"Shohoku High School!"
The announcer's passionate voice was on the verge of cracking.
Thunderous applause erupted.
Camera flashes exploded one after another, turning the arena as bright as daylight.
However...
The moment Shohoku walked onto the podium...
The once-boisterous gymnasium suddenly fell into an eerie silence.
No one was there.
The dead-fish-eyed ice prince, Rukawa Kaede, was missing.
The cool ex-delinquent, Mitsui Hisashi, was nowhere to be seen.
Even the "Great Demon King" Makino Juro, the man who had crossed over Maki Shinichi, was absent.
Standing proudly at center stage...
Was a round-faced young man with his eyes closed and his palms pressed together, looking as solemn as a monk cultivating immortality.
Kakuta Satoru.
Known throughout the basketball world as...
Emperor Kakuta.
Behind him stood Yasuda, Shiozaki, and several nervous first-year substitutes whose awkward marching somehow made them step with the same foot.
The group looked less like champions...
...and more like a flock of harmless sheep that had accidentally wandered into a pack of wolves.
"Uh..."
The host looked down at the dazzling roster in his hands.
Then looked back at the harmless-looking mascots standing on the podium.
His professional smile froze.
"Um..."
"Where are Shohoku's starters?"
Kakuta Satoru slowly opened his half-lidded eyes, as though he had already transcended worldly desires.
With both hands, he calmly accepted the championship trophy.
His movements were slow and unhurried.
Steady as a mountain.
"Our coach was hospitalized."
"They went to see him first."
Kakuta answered calmly.
His flat voice echoed throughout the arena over the loudspeakers.
The entire audience erupted into an uproar.
"In that case..."
"We sincerely wish Coach Anzai a speedy recovery."
"Ahem."
"Next..."
"We will present this tournament's MVP Award!"
"The winner is..."
"Makino Juro of Shohoku High School!"
The spotlights frantically swept across the arena, desperately searching for the legendary player.
In the end...
They awkwardly stopped on Kakuta Satoru's bald head.
Emperor Kakuta calmly took one step forward.
He extended his hand.
And accepted the MVP trophy as well.
"Makino Juro called."
"He said this thing was too heavy."
"He couldn't be bothered carrying it."
"So he told me to bring it back for him."
Kakuta spoke with complete composure.
As if he were simply saying,
"My roommate asked me to pick up his takeout on the way home."
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
👉 /MrBehringer