When Monday morning came, Riku felt stressed. His memories weren't coming through fully, leaving him grasping at fragments that didn't always make sense. The other kids at the orphanage had noticed, asking him several times what was wrong. Luckily, the previous Riku had been a quiet and unassuming boy, someone who didn't like to stand out much. If he kept his head down and didn't speak out of turn, school would be manageable—or at least, that was the hope.
He'd stared at the uniform longer than he wanted to admit, trying to adjust to the surreal sight of himself in it. Crisp blazer, polished shoes—it felt like he was wearing someone else's clothes. "Well, technically, I am," he muttered to himself.
The weekend had been a blur. Adjusting to the orphanage routine had been easier than expected, but the ache in his muscles after Saturday's game reminded him just how much work he still had to do. Sunday morning he had tried to go out on a run but that was humbling. His body wasn't ready for the intensity he demanded of it yet, but the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement had been grounding. Now, though, school was about to begin, and Riku wasn't sure how ready he was.
The school day passed in a haze. Classes were familiar enough to follow, though the gaps in Riku's memories made him second-guess himself at times. Every now and then, a name or a face would spark something—a flicker of recognition that felt both reassuring and unsettling. It was in gym class, however, that Riku's focus truly sharpened.
He hadn't realized until then that Takao Kazunari was in his class. The point guard who later played with Midorima was hard to miss once Riku noticed him. Takao jogged laps around the gym effortlessly, his pace steady but light, like he had infinite reserves of energy. Meanwhile, every step Riku took sent faint reminders of Saturday's game and Sunday's run. His muscles ached with every stride, a dull soreness that refused to go away.
"Hey, Mat-chan!" Takao called, suddenly appearing beside him with a grin that practically glowed. "Didn't think you'd survive your first day back. Still alive over there?"
Riku smirked faintly, though the nickname threw him off for a second. "Barely."
Takao laughed, running backward effortlessly as Riku struggled to keep his pace steady. "Man, you look like you're hauling bricks or something. What'd you do, fight a bear over the weekend?"
"Something like that," Riku muttered, willing his legs to move faster, though Takao's easy stride made it clear there was no catching him. The guy was fast. Not just fast relentless, like he could go on forever without breaking a sweat.
Takao leaned closer, still jogging backward as if gravity didn't apply to him. "You're running like my grandpa. Want me to carry you the rest of the way?"
"Shut up," Riku said, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He wasn't used to this kind of teasing, but somehow, Takao's energy made it hard to take offense.
As they rounded another corner, Takao's grin softened slightly. "Y'know, Mat-chan, I've been thinking about that Teikō game. It's been kinda stuck in my head."
Riku's pace faltered slightly at the mention of Teikō. He hadn't expected Takao to bring it up, not with his usual carefree attitude. "Yeah," Riku said after a moment. "It's hard to forget."
Takao nodded, glancing ahead before speeding up for a moment, leaving Riku lagging behind. "It was insane, right? Midorima didn't even look human out there. Half the shots he made… it was like he was cheating. And Murasakibara? The dude's a wall. I still don't know how anyone's supposed to score on him."
Riku chuckled lightly, though his breathing was labored. His body still wasn't ready to handle this kind of sustained effort, especially against someone like Takao, who made running look like an art form. "Yeah. It wasn't exactly fair."
Takao slowed back down, falling into step with Riku again. His voice dropped slightly, a rare moment of seriousness creeping in. "Still, I keep thinking… what if we had more time? More practice? I don't care about winning all that much, but I just… I want to play them again. I want to see if we can actually make it a game next time."
Riku glanced at him, feeling a spark of determination ignite in his chest. Takao's words mirrored his own thoughts, even if they came wrapped in his usual casual tone. "We will," Riku said firmly. "But it's going to take work."
Takao looked at him, his grin returning but softer now. "Mat-chan, you're way too serious for your own good. But hey, I'm in. Basketball's supposed to be fun anyway, right? Might as well keep playing."
"Exactly," Riku said, his voice steady despite the soreness radiating through his body.
As the two continued their laps, Takao's lighthearted banter returned, filling the gym with laughter again. But every now and then, Riku caught a glimpse of something deeper in Takao's eyes—a shared frustration over the loss, tempered by the same burning desire to keep playing. For now, that was enough.