In Our Next Lifetime (Akira Sendoh Fanfiction)

3

Two Years Ago

The thirteenth day of the seventh month

Sendoh did not know how this day would unfold for him. He found it so ironic that an unlucky number such as 13 would fall on a Friday (making it a double whammy) even more so on the month that it fell on,  July, the seventh month of the year.

Seven is such a wholesome number, and he thought that it would combat any misfortune this day might bring.

Seven was also the number he wore when he played for Ryonan during his high school years and the number he often associates with success and triumph, for it was the same jersey number he wore when he led his team to victory in The National Tournament.

Sendoh branded the number 7 as his. He claims it.

His train of thought was halted by a classmate's voice.

"Hey, Sendoh. You'll still come with us tonight, right?"

Sendoh, a towering figure who was standing near the classroom's window, turned to him and smiled.

"Yeah, I'll be there. What time do we meet up again?" Sendoh was like, tapping something on his phone.

"9:00 PM. The meeting place is just outside the station so we can just walk to the club." He then waved goodbye, leaving Sendoh alone in the classroom.

Sendoh did not stay there for long.  He picked up his backpack and went home, too. He took each step carefully from their school building's winding staircase until he reached the ground floor and his steps led him outside the building.

The sunset, calm yet fiery, was a perpetual presence each afternoon at Tokyo University.

Unless it's raining or it's cloudy, the mighty sun is always there to greet Sendoh, coupled with the usual "Hi, Sendoh-kun" or "Hello, Sendoh-kun" from his admirers.

Sendoh is a deadly combination of looks and talent, and the moment some Tokyo-U students discovered that Kanagawa's basketball genius would continue his tertiary education in their school -- a commotion was an understatement.

⚜

Later that evening, Sendoh was running late to meet his classmates.

Sendoh always seems to operate on his clock, and, much to his classmates' dismay, his tardiness grew on them since there's not much to hate from the guy-- he's patient, carefree, and good-looking, and if it wasn't for his perpetual tardiness he would've had everything in the bag.

Sendoh greeted his classmates with a smile, and all their skepticism and disappointment washed away.

"Sorry for being late," Sendoh said apologetically.

One of his classmates waved a hand, shooing the thought away.

Sendoh's habitual lateness didn't go away even after graduating from high school.  His nonchalance stems from a lack of reprimanding, and he always gets his way.

With that thought in mind, Sendoh and his group made their way to a club, which was around 50 meters away from the train station.

The club was pulsating with energy, the air filled with thumping bass and jumpy music that amalgamated into one intoxicating feeling that compelled the crowd to jive in the packed dance floor.

Sendoh's gaze roamed the room, eyes glazing on the neon decorations that glowed in stark contrast against the dim, and his nose caught on the smell of booze that permeated the air.

There was a group of girls who wore alluring, figure-hugging mini dresses who admired him from afar, and their flirtatious gazes were a testament to that. Sendoh, feeling playful, winked at one of them.

"We're going to be flocked around by girls at this point." Teased one of Sendoh's classmates.

"Sendoh's the one they want, stop dreaming." Added the other.

Sendoh realized from the start that the only reason why he was invited was to draw attention to get girls to take home. He didn't mind, so long as he got his fill of alcohol and he also got to unwind.

Sendoh doesn't frequent clubs, for he has fishing and basketball to keep his mind preoccupied.

When asked what he wanted to drink, Sendoh replied,

"Just one lemon-flavored beer for me."

As the minutes passed, and he felt the eyes of each girl in the room stop and stare at him, Sendoh couldn't help but think how easily he could get a girl. He never really found himself ready for a committed relationship.

The thought of a long-term relationship is too troublesome, the effort too tantamount. So, rather than doing that, he entertains himself in flings, leaving shattered connections and fleeting memories in their wake.

As the night further bloomed, Sendoh participated in the club's merriment-- he grooved to the beat of the music and even indulged himself in some harmless flirting.

He pulled one lucky girl to the dance floor, whispering something in her ear that made her blush.

Sendoh managed to maintain his sobriety, enjoying himself without losing control.

The hours progressed, and when he got his fill, Sendoh sat in between his group, swirling the remnants of the beer from the fifth bottle he had for the night. A wave of contentment washed over him.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna head home," Sendoh said, turning to the guy closest to him, his voice barely audible over the electric music.

His classmate raised an eyebrow, who was already on the precipice of drunkenness.

"What?! It's still too early!"

Sendoh flashed his carefree smile, shrugging,
"Yeah, but I've had my fill for tonight. I'm good. You guys enjoy yourselves though."

Patting his friend's shoulder, Sendoh made his way to the exit. He could still hear his classmates' retorts, urging him to stay longer, and the bass-laced music fading as he took every step.

Either way, he continued walking, until he stepped out into the cool night.