Slam Dunk Fan Fiction ❯ The Girl That Time Loved ❯ Dinner For A Song ( Chapter 4 )

Mitsui almost collapsed onto the bench in his old high school gym, and his former teammates followed suit. The score of that evening's game was 42-40, Mitsui and Hanamichi's team losing to Akagi and Rukawa. The champions gloated over their victory, while the unfortunate losers were sulking in their seats, waiting for the two to tell them where they wanted to eat dinner. The losers pay, after all.

"How about that little Italian restaurant by the lake?" Akagi suggested. "I heard they've got some good lasagna there."

Hanamichi scoffed. "Oh? Since when did you become artsy-fartsy about food?"
Akagi hit the redhead with the basketball. "Ever since you had to pay, loser! Enough whining, let's just go."

Hanamichi shot Mitsui a pathetic look, only to be answered with a shrug. It was half past seven, and after more whining from Hanamichi, crowing from the towering Akagi and a surprisingly verbal Rukawa, and eye rolling from Mitsui, they found themselves ducking through the entrance of the old Italian restaurant. They made heads turn with their presence; their tall and built physiques made the old proprietor standing behind the reservation desk look up at them in awe. Mitsui took his baseball cap off and approached the desk.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?" the old man asked meekly.

"I'm afraid we don't, sir," Mitsui replied, fiddling with the duckbill of his cap.

"Well, let's see what we can find…" The old man put on his thick glasses, licked a finger and turned to the next page on the appointment book. Mitsui took a peek and found the page full with names.

"Gori, why the hell did you have to drag us to a high roller joint?!" hissed Hanamichi.

"Shut up, carrot top," Akagi muttered as he glanced around, feeling eyes watch them.

`Dummy' was all Rukawa could grunt.

All their attention now was directed to the old man and the book before them. Just before the proprietor could open his mouth to speak, a waiter came by and whispered some words into his ear. The old man nodded his head and smiled at the hopeful gazes of his tall guests.

"It seems that a table just cleared for you. If you'd kindly give us a few moments, we will seat you as soon as it is ready."

The four towers voiced their thanks and took a seat in the waiting area. Mitsui momentarily got up and gazed through the glass panels of the French doors. He didn't expect the restaurant to be filled with such well-dressed people most of the men in suits and ties. He felt out of place in the formal crowd, for he, too, felt the weight of discriminating stares from the haughty-looking ladies. He tried to ignore them and listened instead to the soft tunes that came from the piano by the bar.

"Hey, Mitchy, maybe we'll see your mysterious belle here," Akagi joked.

"Good grief, I hope she's not here… She wouldn't be the type to wave her nose up in the air like some people here."

"Hey, maybe if you say it louder they'll stop staring," muttered Hanamichi, whose mile-long legs were crossed, as were his arms.

"Gentlemen, this way, please."

They followed the old man through the gawking faces of the patrons. They were quite relieved to finally sit down and avoid the stifling looks, sticking their noses into the menus provided for them. The first thing Hanamichi looked at was the prices and he nearly fainted at the sight: the dinner entrees started from ¥ 5000.

"Five thousand yen for a bowl of pasta?! Good Lord, that's a lot of money!"

The three could only look at the redhead with daggers. There was no doubt he would cause the three much grief and embarrassment.

"Well, obviously none of us can eat a full dinner even with our wallets emptied, so what do you say we gracefully walk out of here?" Akagi whispered.

"How the hell do you think we're gonna `gracefully' walk out of here?" sniveled Mitsui. "You and carrot head over here stick out like weeds on a golf course!"

Akagi was about to ram a knuckled fist into Mitsui's shoulder when the same quiet waiter who showed up out of nowhere whispered into Mitsui's ear. The men stilled and behaved themselves to watch the shooting guard's head bob up and down in half confusion, half understanding as he listened. The waiter afterwards stood a few feet away from their table.

"Well," Mitsui said with a relieved sigh, "it seems the gods really do smile on fools and children."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Hanamichi.

"The waiter just told me that dinner is on the house."

The rest of them blinked at his words. Rukawa shook his head in disbelief, the other two were fixed to their seats with their jaws dropped to the floor. Suddenly the redhead beamed and began to snicker.

"What now, fool?" Akagi growled.

"We must be famous around here, but I didn't know we were this famous." Hanamichi picked up the menu. "Well, it would be rude to deny such a gracious offer."

Akagi gave the shooting guard an inquiring look, and the latter just shrugged. "We might as well stay, we'll do better eating than gracefully exiting." Still confused and bewildered at the reversal of luck he and the redhead had, he hailed the waiter and began to order.

Minutes passed and they found themselves eating the savoriest meal they have ever had. Rukawa just stared into space as his hand unconsciously shoveled food into his mouth. Akagi's eyes closed every time he chewed his food, as if the flavorful zest of herbs flooding his palate would linger longer. With every bite, Mitsui still couldn't believe his luck. As the waiter came by with the dessert tray, soft cords from a mandolin were heard from the dining hall. The men took their time making a decision, for the pieces of cake on the tray all looked so inviting. While the waiter took their orders, Mitsui's head jerked at the voice filling the dining hall with song. It was as though time stopped for him as he inclined his head towards the direction of the voice and listened. The words were foreign to his ear. He vaguely knew the song, hearing it once before from his grandmother's old record player. It was melodious, almost lulling, and he found himself lost in the singer's voice.

"Sir?"
Rukawa had to nudge Mitsui out of his reverie.

"Hey, don't you want dessert?"
A bit shaken, Mitsui replied, "Yes, yes I do… the chocolate one will do." Before the waiter walked off, he asked, "Excuse me, sir, could you tell me who is singing?"
The waiter smiled at the question. "That would be Reiko-san. She usually just plays the piano for us, but tonight she chose to do something different."

Mitsui's skin jumped at the mention of her name, his heart beat uncontrollably in his chest. His companions looked at each other with devilish grins. The waiter left and the men jeered at Mitsui who stared in disbelief.

"Well, whaddaya know, Gori here was right!" Hanamichi cheered. "So, are you gonna introduce us?"

" You didn't tell us she could sing," stated Akagi.

"This is the first time I've heard her…" he trailed off, lost again in her voice. The song ended a few moments later, and the realization of her presence at the restaurant hurled Mitsui back to earth. "Good Lord, she's here! What am I going to do? What am I going to say?!" He was at the verge of pulling his hair out.

"Calm down, man. Just act normal. Go over there and see her," advised Akagi.

Hanamichi frowned. "Mitchy, what the hell is wrong with you? Get a grip!" He nearly shook the point guard off his chair. "It's not like you haven't talked to her before! What, are you in grade school?!"

Mitsui collected himself and took a deep breath. He didn't feel comfortable with the idea of seeking her, talking to her in front of all these people with their suits and ties and glaring eyes. He imagined she blended easily within this rich crowd, she had the manners and gentility he had seen first hand, though she was never one to stare at a person if their state of dress differed from the majority. And she wasn't snobby at all.

"So, are you gonna go over there or what?" complained Rukawa.

He hesitated. "I don't know, man. It's just I don't feel right in this," he pointed to the crowd, "environment. We were always alone when we talked except for her bodyguards, and we were in a very casual atmosphere. I guess I'm just not in my element."
"Element my ass!" growled Akagi. "Look, what would she think if she saw you here knowing that she probably already saw you and you didn't even stop to say hello? Won't she think you're being a snob?"
Mitsui crossed his arms. "And what makes you think she already saw me?"
Hanamichi palmed the top of the shooting guard's head and twisted it in the direction of the reservation desk. "Did you fail to notice the baby grand piano by the bar? Of course she saw your `fraidy ass! And everybody here was looking at us when we came in!"

"Mitsui, it's obvious you got his by one of Cupid's little arrows. And you may not notice that goofy look you have on your face like you were some kid playing with fireworks every time you mention her name, but I sure do."
"So do I," the redhead said.

"I notice it, too," Rukawa mumbled.

"So," Akagi said as he leaned on the table with his big forearms across from Mitsui, "take off that skirt you've got on, be a man and walk over there!"

"All right, all right!" He ran his fingers through his thick hair and smoothed his shirt straight. "How do I look?"
"Like a guy."
"I don't see a skirt on, that's a plus."
Rukawa merely shrugged.

"Okay, then."

Mitsui stood and nervously made his way across the dining hall, his eyes scanning the bar are for any sight of her. He felt like he was forced to walk a plank that led to a tank of sharks. It wasn't like she was frightening, she was very far from it. He was one to keep his cool in place during encounters, but with her he was jumpy, maybe even a little clumsy, looking but not feeling steady.

The restaurant was in the shape of an L, with the bar at the short arm of the L facing the lake. He wanted to laugh at himself as he rounded the corner and saw the piano, because he was excited and terrified but at the same time felt as though he was walking on air. He found her talking to the old man from the reservation desk, her back towards him and her hands in motion as she spoke.

"I met the gentleman who runs the bakery by the university. He was quite kind and his bakery reminded me of grandmother's kitchen."
The old man laughed. "That old goat? I know him, he and I used to play marbles together when we were kids. Lost my favorite marble to him…" His eyes caught sight of Mitsui's tall form and alerted his pianist with a gentle pat on her shoulder. "Your friend is here. I'll go help at the bar."
She turned around and looked up to see a warm smile beaming from the shooting guard's face. She returned the gesture.

"Hello again, Mitsui-san. It's a nice surprise to see you here."

"I… I'm glad, very glad to see you here as well."
He blinked once at the sight of her smile, and there it was again, that feeling of helplessness that made him lose nerve to his tongue, leaving him with only his eyes to impart his unspoken words. She wore a pair of black dress pants and a black blouse that accentuated her toned arms, and the dark color of her clothes brought out the azure depths of her eyes.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?"
He nodded.

"That's good. I like their pasta here, they make it fresh daily. It's just as good as their desserts. Have you tried one of their cakes yet?"
Her question fell on deaf ears.

"Mitsui-san?"
"Answer her, you idiot!" someone hissed from the corner wall.

Both their heads turned towards the same corner only to see the waiters walk past the corner and back. Mitsui recovered and realized what an idiot he had been, both thankful and annoyed at Hanamichi's spying. He shook his head in laughter and apologized to Reiko.

"I was staring again, I'm sorry."
She giggled. "That's quite all right." She peered over his shoulder to look at the corner again. "Was that your friend?"
"Um, yes. He's my clumsy friend who missed a basket and made us lose a bet, and that's why we're here."

"A bet?"
"My old high school teammates and I play often and we had a bet going that whoever lost a game of hoops had to pay for dinner."
"I'm sorry you lost your bet, though I'm glad you don't look sad about it at all."
// That's because you're here now. //

"Oh, I guess it's just because my luck has been unbelievably good lately. The owner of the restaurant just gave us dinner on the house."

He observed the expression on her face change from a faint smile into an amused grin, her eyes happy with shining glints of blue. He allowed himself a few more moment to gaze upon her, a suspicion mounting in his thoughts as her playful grin betrayed some secret.

"You didn't have anything to do with us getting free dinner, did you?"
She feigned ignorance, rolling her eyes to the side like a scheming child. "Of course, not."
Mitsui squinted his eyes at her and she tried to avoid them, looking at her fingers as she tapped them softly against the table.

"Reiko-san, you're not a very good liar."
She inclined her head towards him, that resigned look on her face a dead giveaway. She shrugged.

"This restaurant is rather popular, it's booked a month in advance. When I saw you and your friends, it didn't look like you were going to get a table, so I told Takumi-san to tell the owner the you were my friends."

"And Takumi-san is?"
"Your waiter."
"Oh." Mitsui scratched his head. "But that still doesn't explain our free dinner."
Three heads sticking out from behind the corner wall, one of which was of a striking red color, caught her attention. She nearly laughed.

"You have rather nice friends who watch your back."
He turned to follow her gaze and discovered its literal meaning. His stool pigeon teammates' heads poked out, and after blowing their cover, they waved at the pair. Mitsui let out a sigh.

"I'd better introduce you to them before they embarrass me any further." He motioned them over to where they were, and the snoops emerged from their hiding place, walking single file like ducklings after their mother.

"This is Akagi, Rukawa and Hanamichi. Akagi attends the same university. Rukawa and Hanamichi are the senior basketball captains of our old high school."

She greeted them with a bow. "Nakamichi Reiko. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
The three were surprised at her politeness, and Mitsui smiled at their reaction, motioning them to do the same.

"Ah, so you're the famous Reiko-san we've been hearing about!" sang Hanamichi. "Mitchy here can't stop talking about you."

If Mitsui's sharp glare could kill Hanamichi, he would've been skewered dead. Akagi noted this and smacked the redhead a good one on his back.

"I apologize for his behavior. He's had too much dessert tonight."
"I did not! I just wanted to have a bit of Mitchy's weird dessert!"
Mitsui frowned. "You ate my dessert?"

"It was just a little bite," the redhead squeaked.

"He ate all of it," Rukawa stated flatly.

A very irritated Hanamichi scowled at Rukawa and Akagi could do nothing but sigh in resignation. Mitsui was equally embarrassed. He shot Reiko an apologetic look; his crew was just as rowdy as they looked. Or perhaps it was just Hanamichi.

"Do you work here?" Akagi asked.

She grinned. "I guess you can say that."
"You have a beautiful voice."
"Thank you," she said, face demure. "It normally isn't what I do here, I just play the piano." She looked up at Akagi and noticed the surprised look on his face. "Is everything all right, Akagi-san?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, I just…" he stepped closer and leaned towards her eye level, "I've never seen eyes like those before. Do you wear contacts?"
She shook her head gently.

"They're quite striking."
She looked over to Rukawa and Hanamichi and caught them staring at her, too. Mitsui stepped towards her and whispered in her ear.

"Don't mind them, they don't get out much."

Reiko smiled from ear to ear, her eyes scanning Mitsui's three companions. They were good-natured and light-hearted, and they act like they've known each other since elementary school. The redhead kept uttering empty threats at the irritated-looking Rukawa, with Akagi trying his best to ignore the situation. Despite their intimidating appearance, they had a playful side to them that reminded her of that occasional boyish look on Mitsui's face. He tried to calm the bickering pair down but wasn't helping much.

They all stopped to find Reiko seated before the piano, her fingers dancing across the keys as she played a Frank Sinatra tune. She looked up from her ivory tickling. "Would you like another round of dessert?"
They looked at each other's puzzled faces.
"Or perhaps some coffee?"
Akagi looked at Hanamichi and Rukawa, then at a crimson-faced Mitsui.

"It might be best to decline your offer," he said as he gave Hanamichi a forceful nudge and rolled his eyes at Mitsui's direction for the team captains to see. They caught on.

"Right… because we have to do homework, and lots of it!" exclaimed the redhead.

Rukawa just looked at him, monotonously saying, "We have early morning practice."
"I'm sure Mitchy here can stay for a while, but not us!" affirmed Hanamichi with a laugh.

"Thanks for the offer, Nakamichi-san, but we really have to be going. See you later, Mitsui."

Taking their leave, they stopped by the bar to give their thanks and praises to the flattered owner. After watching the trio walk through the doors, the old man threw a glance at Reiko and gave her a thumbs-up, the silent communiqué not missed by Mitsui. She nodded back at him and continued to play the piano. The shooting guard edged to the side of the piano and watched her fingers glide softly across the keys until she finished the song with a high note. All the patrons were absorbed in their own conversations, and it brought relief to him to know that no one in their immediate surroundings paid them any attention.

"I'm afraid I was wrong about my friends." He took a seat next to her on the piano bench. "They embarrassed me thoroughly."

She observed him. "You don't appear to be very agitated about that."

He laughed. "Well, because that's the way they are. And I take comfort in knowing that I can do the same to them." He looked around the restaurant, noting the faces of the smug patrons chattering away over their cappuccinos and tiramisus. "I feel so out of place here."

"How so?"
"Well, for starters, these people are dressed so nicely, and look at me in my very casual shirt and jeans."
She looked at him. The muscle planes of his chest and muscular arms were prominent underneath his tucked shirt. She thought him normal, and it wasn't like he was dressed like a clown. "I don't see why that matters."
"You don't?"
"Not at all." She began to play a new song on the piano, raising her eyes from the keys to the dining crowd. "Dressing in nice clothes doesn't make you a nice person. Take that man with the cigar at the far corner. He often dines here, dressed in the finest suits with a different woman clutching his arm every week. He always snaps at the waiters and at one time even yelled at Yoshi-san for the most trivial of things."
"Yoshi-san?"
"He's the old gentleman who runs the restaurant."
Mitsui shifted in his seat. "I can probably relate to that."
"Has anyone been mean to you before?"
He chuckled. "I've been on both sides of the fence. But I've decided to stay on the sunnier side."

Her gaze continued to observe the crowd. "Mitsui-san, it's hard to imagine you sitting on the stormy side of the fence."
"Well," he said as he shuffled his feet. "I'm afraid that if I tell you about it, you might whistle for your guards to jump me."
After sounding a low note, she stopped and turned towards Mitsui's slightly flushed cheeks.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you're not comfortable." Her tone was reassuring.

"Mine isn't so much of a secret. Everyone I went to high school with knows about it, it's like a scar."
She stood up and walked to the table behind them. As if on cue, the old man Yoshi came by and placed two cups of coffee before her. Reiko looked at the shooting guard as she patted the chair beside her. He complied and sat down.

"Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you."

The waiter who previously served Mitsui came by with two plates of dessert. Reiko asked him to try his first, and after giving it his approval, she proceeded to eat her tiramisu. The patrons were slowly decreasing in number, and the restaurant got quieter with each departing party. He quietly watched the waiters scurry about, putting away the used china and placing fresh tablecloths on the tables. The clang and clatter of silverware echoed through the dining hall as the busboys picked them up and disappeared into the kitchen. Only a few couples were left now, their sighs and whispers audible in the nearly empty room.

"That song you sang," Mitsui began as he drank his coffee. "I remember hearing that song at my grandmother's when I was a kid."

"Yes, it's quite old. It's Yoshi-san's favorite song."
"That was nice of you to sing it for him."
She chuckled. "It was more of a barter, really."
Mitsui eyed her with skepticism. "That's how our dinner got paid, isn't it?"
Rolling her eyes as before, she shrugged. "It was Yoshi-san who made the deal, not I."
He looked around the room. "Where are your guards?"
She finished the last piece of her dessert before answering. "They're outside having a drink."

They sat in comfortable silence, occasionally looking at the few couples at their tables, hearing their quiet laughter. Old man Yoshi came once more to retrieve the plates and cups, nodding politely at the shooting guard. He introduced himself as did the old man, the latter excusing himself to the kitchen.

"Your friends seemed lively tonight."
He sat back in his chair and sighed. "They can be really crazy, but they're good guys." He fiddled with the napkin on his lap. "Thank you, by the way, for dinner. We were about to pick up and leave after seeing the prices on the menu."
"You're welcome." She looked outside the window at the lights reflecting from the lake. "It was good to sing again."

He held his gaze steady at her, noting the sudden look of sadness on her face. He had seen that look before, the one that made her eyes lose their cerulean shade. "Reiko-san, is something the matter?"
She whipped her head back towards him, trying to shake the gloom from within. "Oh no, nothing at all."
"Tsk tsk tsk," he sounded as he shook his finger at her. "Like I said, you're not a very good liar, Reiko-san."
She was forced to smile at his observation. She knew he had been studying her face all along, and she disliked the fact that her eyes betrayed her every emotion.

"That's okay. The same rules still apply with disclosing information. Only if you're comfortable."
She looked down at her hands, unconsciously drawing imaginary lines on the tablecloth. She felt odd, though strangely soothed, by the basketball player's light humor and presence. Why was that? She had only known him for a short time. Very seldom did she have someone across from her at the dinner table. She pinned that feeling as seclusion, and someone seeing and talking to her more than twice after being acquainted was something she didn't expect at all. She wondered if she had forgotten how to act around other people.

The shooting guard broke the silence. "I used to be in a gang."
Reiko was pulled from her thoughts when she heard him speak. Her attention focused on Mitsui's face, that familiar look of regret in his eyes.

"I used to pick on people, and in many cases, I beat them up. I don't know how I got into a gang to begin with, but I think it started when I got injured and I couldn't play basketball my freshman year in high school. I felt like I had to blame something or somebody, and instead of looking inside myself, I picked on someone a year younger than me on the basketball team. I beat him into a bloody pulp and sent him to the hospital. In turn, he punched my two front teeth out and sent me to the dentist."
By the end of his confession the last of the patrons had left, and she could hear his breathing quietly in the stillness of the room.

"I have not noticed any of your teeth missing, if it's any consolation to you, Mitsui-san."

He smiled and nodded. "That's because I had fake ones screwed into my jaw bone." He shifted in his seat again and rested his elbows on the table, leaning toward her. "But you don't have to pity me. At least now I can stop singing `All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.'"

The smile he got from her was genuine; her eyes were blue and bright once more.

"I'm telling you this because I don't want you to be afraid of me. I'm even a bit surprised that you don't look at me in a dark way. Maybe it's because you don't attend school around here and you haven't heard about it. I would rather you know from my own mouth than from anybody else's." His voice was nervous, and he stole a glance at her. This girl was very different. She didn't appear disgusted at his previous vices, and her eyes didn't look down on him. Instead, he watched her hand reach across the table to touch his.

"You're a different person now, Mitsui-san, though I think you've always been a nice person. You lost something very important to you, and perhaps it threw your balance off. You're very fortunate, though, because what you lost you were able to retrieve. And for that, I envy you."

She took her hand away and sat there, observing him across the table with unclouded eyes. It took two year, two lost teeth and a beating to finally realize what had eaten him inside several years ago. It only took her a few minutes to figure him out. He was astonished and relieved.

He combed his fingers through his hair, looking away to hide from her knowing eyes. // At least she's not afraid of me. // From the far corner of his eye he saw the old man approach them with two more cups of coffee. He placed them on the table. Reiko asked for him to sit with them, and the man sat and spoke with them, mentioning to Mitsui that he watched him play in the Interhigh finals, and that he lost ¥ 10,000 to a friendly bet with the old baker by the university. The old man was awed by his shooting skills and asked if he was playing for the college. Mitsui told him that he made that deal with is mother and ended with the saying `never break your mother's back.'

"Good boy, Mitsui-san. But I'm sure the college coaches around town are not thrilled about that."

"They'll deal with it. I know I am. I have a feeling it won't be long before I play again, though I haven't really decided." He threw a glance at Reiko. "I have been getting some help with my stretching, which helps me on my way to back to the court."
"Oh? Reiko-chan's been helping you, has she? Well, in that case, I predict you'll be playing again by the end of the month."
"Yoshi-san, since when did you become a clairvoyant?" she asked.
"I'm not. You just have that kind of effect on people, that's all."
Mitsui smiled at the old man's words. How true, he thought. With Reiko, he always wanted to be in his best form, cool, well mannered. He marveled at her; she was intelligent, charming, beautiful, and polite to the point of every mother's approval. She must've been born with her hair already brushed neatly, her eyes bright, and her clothes already clean and tucked in. He speculated she belonged to a high-class family, whose children all had etiquette classes every afternoon teatime. Such a high pedestal she must stand on, and she was perfect compared to him and his tarnished high school background.

He noted the time on his watch. It was late, and he asked if he could walk Reiko home. She almost laughed and shook her head gently, saying that it would take a long time to reach her house on foot. After thanking Yoshi for their meal, she suggested that her stretch partner hitch a ride to his home in her vehicle.

Sitting next to her was the only comforting feature of the vehicle, though he was pretty sure the ever-stoic faces of the bodyguards was the main reason that kept him from enjoying the ride. He didn't live very far from the restaurant, and within minutes he found himself in front of his home, standing by the vehicle's window where Reiko sat.

"Thank you very much, Reiko-san. I owe you dinner."

"You owe me nothing, Mitsui-san. Thank you for keeping me company."

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

She nodded.

Just before the Suburban drove off, he called on her once more.

"Reiko-san, what do you think it is I lost before?"
With a soft glance, she gave him a smile. "Time, Mitsui-san. Time."

And with that she drove off, his princess in her black metal coach and her four suited coachmen.