Monday 22 November Night USA.
After coming back from his Office in the USA Zaboru was relaxing at ho in the U.S. with Ayumi, enjoying a peaceful evening together. With a playful glint in his eye, he turned to her and asked, "Ayumi, do you want to watch the NBA tomorrow?"
Ayumi bead and nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! I love basketball too. I've actually been reading the Slam Dunk manga from Weekly Shonen Shock recently. Honestly, it's made super curious about the sport!"
Zaboru's eyes lit up with excitent. "Oh? So you want to learn basketball? Want to teach you?"
Ayumi giggled and gave a cheerful nod. "Absolutely! Let's do it!"
Excited, the two headed out to their backyard, where a basketball hoop stood waiting. Zaboru began showing her the basics—how to dribble, layup techniques, and simple shooting form. He explained how to maintain good posture, control the ball with her fingertips instead of her palms, and keep her eyes on both the ball and the court. Ayumi listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and copying his movents with impressive focus.
What surprised him the most was just how determined and quick Ayumi was to pick everything up. She didn't get frustrated when she missed a shot or fumbled a dribble; instead, she smiled, asked for tips, and tried again. Her mindset was sharp, and her coordination naturally athletic. Even her footwork started to show promise after just a short ti.
Zaboru adjusted her stance a few tis, encouraged her after each improvent, and laughed along with her whenever she tripped or spun too fast. Despite being new to the sport, Ayumi moved with an energy that was both endearing and impressive. Her competitive spirit lit up with every bounce, and her enthusiasm was contagious.
After a couple of hours of casual training, Ayumi had already grasped the fundantals. She could dribble with control, make basic shots, and execute layups with confidence. She even started picking up defensive stances and mimicking Zaboru's own footwork. Her movents were getting sharper, more fluid, and her confidence was clearly growing with each play.
Zaboru was genuinely impressed—not just by how quickly she was learning, but by how much joy she radiated while doing it. Her laughter rang out every ti she scored, and she'd throw her arms in the air in celebration like she'd just won a championship. Her excitent was contagious, filling the backyard with a vibrant energy.
"Wow, Ayumi, you really seem to be having a blast!" Zaboru said, grinning as he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. He tossed her the ball again. "Wanna go one more round?"
Ayumi caught the ball, but this ti, she dropped to her knees, panting hard. Her hair clung to her forehead, and her cheeks were flushed. "Hold on... let breathe! I think I'm dying!" she joked between laughs.
Zaboru chuckled, walking over with a towel and handing her a water bottle. "Ayumi, you're really good, honestly. If you keep this up, I might have to draft you onto my dream team." Zaboru jokes.
She smiled at him warmly, still catching her breath, her eyes sparkling with both exhaustion and pride. "Thanks... I guess I really do want to play basketball now. And yes, please—I want to be on your team. No—actually, I want to be the captain!"
Zaboru and Ayumi both burst into laughter, the kind that ca from pure joy and closeness. Their laughter echoed through the cool night air, mixing with the soft thud of the basketball as it rolled across the concrete.
In that mont—simple, unfiltered, and shared between two people who truly cared for one another—Zaboru realized sothing: teaching Ayumi wasn't just enjoyable. It was special.
Zaboru smiled and gently caressed her head, making Ayumi blush. She looked up at him shyly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "Zabo... I'm too tired to shower by myself, so..." she murmured, half-teasing and half-sincere, her voice soft with exhaustion and trust.
Zaboru chuckled and leaned in closer. "Hehehe, then I guess it's my job to help you, right? Can't leave my MVP like this after such an intense workout."
Ayumi giggled, her cheeks still flushed, and leaned lightly into his chest. "You better make it worth it," she said with a playful smirk. "I expect premium service."
Without missing a beat, Zaboru lifted her up bridal-style, earning a surprised squeak and a burst of laughter from her. "Then consider this your VIP treatnt," he said confidently as he carried her toward the house. "We've got a hot shower, warm towels, and the best personal assistant on call."
Inside, the gentle hiss of running water echoed as steam began to fill the bathroom. Ayumi stood under the stream, sighing with relief as the heat soaked into her muscles. Zaboru stood beside her, helping rinse her hair and lather her shoulders with quiet care.
Their laughter turned into softer monts—playful splashes, gentle teasing, and long looks that spoke more than words. Ayumi rested her head against his chest as the water ran down over both of them, eyes closed, a small smile on her lips.
"This feels… kind of perfect," she whispered.
Zaboru smiled, brushing a few wet strands from her face. "Yeah… it really does."
Their connection deepened in the silence that followed, filled with comfort and closeness. It wasn't just about sharing a shower—it was about sharing space, vulnerability, and trust.
Their quiet laughter and warm voices continued into the night, echoing softly from behind the stead-up glass and out into the stillness of the evening, wrapping around the house like a mory in the making.
Tuesday 23 November 1996.
The next day, after the fun from the night before, Zaboru decided to take a day off. Even though it was technically a workday, no one at ZAGE objected. He rarely took breaks—not even on weekends—so this rest was well-deserved.
Today, Zaboru and Ayumi had plans to watch the NBA, and the highlight of the day was the much-talked-about ga between the Chicago Bulls and the Boston Celtics. Though not part of the playoffs, the matchup was drawing massive attention across the country. Fans were eager to witness a unique showdown between two basketball legends from different eras—Michael Jordan, now in just his third NBA season but already gaining a strong reputation, and Larry Bird, still very much in his pri and dominating the hardwood.
In this alternate tiline, pop culture and sports had trailed roughly a decade behind their real-world counterparts, aning Larry Bird was still an unstoppable force on the court, commanding gas with his unmatched basketball IQ and razor-sharp shooting. anwhile, Michael Jordan had already begun turning heads with his explosive athleticism and clutch plays, even if his full legend hadn't yet been written.
The atmosphere leading up to the ga was electric. Sports networks had been hyping the ga for days, and ticket sales had gone through the roof.
Zaboru bought VIP tickets for both of them, and they enjoyed the match to the fullest. From the mont they stepped into the arena, the roaring crowd, flashing lights, and sll of popcorn and hotdogs pulled them into the electric atmosphere. Ayumi's eyes sparkled with excitent as she watched the players warm up, bouncing the ball and taking effortless jump shots with incredible precision.
As the ga began, she leaned forward in her seat, completely absorbed. Every pass, every pivot, and every dunk drew gasps and cheers from her. She was fully captivated by the sheer physical skill and coordination of the athletes, their fluid movents and explosive bursts of energy unlike anything she'd seen before in real life. The energy of NBA basketball in this era was raw, intense, and relentless—sothing that couldn't be captured on TV or in manga.
Zaboru, seated beside her, was soaking it in just as much. He admired the way Larry Bird moved across the court with seemingly minimal effort, delivering unorthodox yet lethal shots that seed to defy logic. Bird's confidence and awareness were astounding. And of course, there was Michael Jordan—young, hungry, and already making the impossible look routine. Every ti Jordan drove to the hoop or rose for a fadeaway, Zaboru felt chills. Watching MJ in person was like witnessing a storm contained in human form—controlled chaos wrapped in brilliance.
They high-fived during each big play and exchanged excited glances as the ga heated up.
At one point, the stadium caras panned across the crowd and landed squarely on them. The giant screen lit up with their faces, and the crowd let out a wave of surprised murmurs and excited cheers. The host comntator's voice bood over the loudspeakers, "Oh! Look who we have here—Zaboru Renkonan himself is in the building! And is that his girlfriend sitting next to him?"
The second comntator jumped in with equal enthusiasm, "It sure looks like it! Now that's a rare sight! Zaboru Renkonan doesn't show up in public too often—especially not courtside!"
The cara lingered a mont longer as Ayumi gave a shy wave and Zaboru nodded coolly toward the lens, eliciting another wave of cheers from the crowd. It was a fleeting mont, but one that added another spark to an already electric atmosphere.
They watched the match through to the end, captivated by every play, every roar of the crowd, and every rising mont of tension. Ultimately, the Celtics secured the win—Jordan wasn't yet at his peak, still honing his greatness, while Bird remained a powerhouse, orchestrating the court like a maestro. The final buzzer sounded, and the arena erupted in applause. Ayumi clapped with gleaming eyes, clearly thrilled, while Zaboru simply nodded in appreciation, impressed by the caliber of play.
As they exited the stadium, the streets outside were still buzzing with fans chatting excitedly about the ga. Food vendors were busy serving hot snacks, and car horns echoed as people spilled out of the parking lots. Zaboru and Ayumi walked hand-in-hand back to the car, still caught up in the magic of the mont.
Once they were on the road, the atmosphere inside the car shifted to sothing warm and cozy. The city lights shimred outside the windows, and soft jazz played on the radio. Zaboru turned to her with a relaxed grin. "So, how was the match?"
Ayumi lit up. "They were so cool! The players were so skillful—it was really fun to watch. I loved seeing how they moved on the court, how they passed so quickly and read each other's intentions without even speaking. It felt like watching a perfectly choreographed dance, but with sneakers and sweat."
Zaboru laughed, nodding. "That's what makes basketball beautiful. It's not just athleticism—it's rhythm, instinct, teamwork."
Ayumi turned to him with a bright smile. "You were right to bring . I think I love basketball even more now."
Zaboru grinned. "I know, right? So, where do you want to go next?"
Ayumi thought for a mont, tapping her chin dramatically like she was making a life-or-death decision. "Let's go bowling! Then karaoke—and after that, food!" she declared with a bright grin that lit up her whole face. Zaboru sighed playfully, pretending to be exasperated. "Isn't that our usual date plan back in Japan?"
Ayumi giggled, bouncing slightly in her seat. "Hehehe, I don't care! It's still fun every ti! Bowling gets hyped, karaoke lets unleash my inner rockstar, and food… well, food is just the best reward ever!" She winked. "Oh—and before we head ho, let's go to a park and enjoy a quiet night together! Like usual. Just the two of us, under the stars."
Zaboru laughed, his chest warming at her enthusiasm. He reached over and gently patted her head. "Sure. Anything you want."
He drove them to a nearby mall that had all the date staples packed into one building. As he navigated through traffic, holiday lights blinked from lamp posts and storefronts, giving the streets a warm, festive glow. All the while, his thoughts wandered.
I wonder if I should visit Michael Jordan soti? We did make eye contact at the ga… but maybe I'll wait until the timing's right. No need to rush.
Zaboru chuckled to himself, amused at how normal his life had beco despite having crossed paths with so many legends. Michael Jackson, Bruce Lee, Gabe Newell, Satoru Iwata. And now, two of them, Gabe and Iwata, were actually working for him at ZAGE. If soone had told his past self that one day he'd be casually managing a tech empire while hanging out with his idols, he would've called them crazy.
But right now, the only thing that mattered was Ayumi smiling in the passenger seat, humming a tune she'd probably sing later at karaoke.
Little did they know, their brief spotlight on the stadium screen would spark a dia frenzy, quickly spreading across tabloids, entertainnt shows, and fan pages worldwide. Photos of Zaboru and Ayumi courtside—laughing, smiling, and waving—were shared like wildfire. Everyone suddenly wanted to know who the mysterious woman next to Zaboru was.
But Zaboru couldn't have cared less. Let the world speculate. As far as he was concerned, that night wasn't about publicity or fa. It was about the mories they made, the laughter they shared, and the quiet joy of simply being together.
To be continued
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