PS: This chapter tells the story of Coach Anzai and Ryuji Tanizawa. Readers familiar with the original plot can skip this chapter—it won't affect the rest of the story.
"Thank you very much for your time today, Coach Anzai," Kudo said sincerely as he bowed in gratitude.
"It's nothing, Kudo," Anzai replied with a gentle smile. "If you ever encounter difficulties in coaching, feel free to come to me. If I can help, I will."
"Then I'll be bothering you again in the future," Kudo responded politely.
"Come by anytime," Anzai said kindly.
"Goodbye, Coach Anzai."
"Goodbye, Kudo."
On the walk to the station, Kudo reflected on their conversation.
It's clear Coach Anzai didn't step down from coaching just because of his health… Something else happened. I vaguely remember something like this in the manga… but I can't recall exactly what it was.
Just then, a voice called out behind him.
"Kudo!"
He turned to see Mrs. Anzai pulling up in a car.
"It's the coach's wife. I wonder what's going on?" Kudo said as he walked over.
"I'll give you a ride to the station, Kudo," she offered warmly.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it," he said, getting into the passenger seat.
As they drove, Mrs. Anzai asked, "Kudo, did you ever hear about a player who went to the U.S. years ago?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure. It probably wasn't someone from my class," Kudo answered.
"No, it was about five years ago. His name was Ryuji Tanizawa. He was two meters tall and had incredible athletic ability—a freshman with huge potential."
"Oh!" Kudo snapped his fingers. "Now that you mention it, I remember! Back when I was a freshman, someone sent a game tape to the team. There was a Japanese player in it—must've been Tanizawa. The seniors talked about him a lot, praised his performance."
"Yes, that was him," Mrs. Anzai confirmed. "And Kudo, you know Mr. Anzai's old nickname, don't you?"
"Of course—'The White-Haired Demon.' It came from his strict training style. But honestly, it's thanks to that strictness that I got stronger. I owe a lot to Coach Anzai."
(╮(╯▽╰)╭ Yeah, right… You barely benefited from his training. Hypocrite.)
Mrs. Anzai continued, "Tanizawa had incredible potential. Anzai told me once that he believed he could make Tanizawa the best player in all of Japan."
"The best in Japan…" Kudo echoed under his breath.
"But you know how Mr. Anzai is. The more hope he has in a player, the stricter he becomes. He gave Tanizawa extremely rigorous basic training..."
"So why did Tanizawa go to the U.S.?"
"Maybe he felt the training was too harsh. Or maybe he thought the team's style held him back. He wanted to play more freely. Not long after, he left for the U.S. to study and play basketball—without even telling Anzai."
Mrs. Anzai's voice grew quieter. "About a year later, Tanizawa sent a videotape back to the team. But when Mr. Anzai watched it, he was disappointed. He said Tanizawa hadn't improved at all."
"Even though Tanizawa was over two meters tall and had amazing athleticism, that only stood out in Japan. In the U.S., there were plenty of players taller and faster than him. He'd relied on his physical gifts in high school and neglected his fundamentals. And even after going overseas, he still ignored basic training. His potential hit a ceiling."
"That makes sense," Kudo nodded. "A basketball player can't rely on talent alone. Without discipline and hard work, he'll never reach greatness."
"Yes… and that's exactly what Mr. Anzai believed too. He tried everything he could to get updates about Tanizawa… but there was no news…"
Mrs. Anzai trailed off.
"What happened to him?" Kudo asked. "What happened next?"
"Then… this summer," she said slowly, "Mr. Anzai saw something in the newspaper—news about Tanizawa."
"What was it? How is he now?"
"Tanizawa… passed away."
"What?! He died?!"
"Yes… The article said, 'Ryuji Tanizawa, a Japanese student in the United States, died during a street altercation.' After reading the news, Mr. Anzai went to his grave. There, he met Tanizawa's mother."
Mrs. Anzai's voice turned heavy with emotion. "She gave him a letter Tanizawa had written to Mr. Anzai four years ago."
"Four years ago?" Kudo repeated in shock. "Didn't he send it?"
"No… it was never mailed. His mother found it while sorting through his belongings. In the letter, Tanizawa expressed deep regret. He admitted his immaturity and how tough life in the U.S. had been. He wrote that he felt too ashamed to return home without accomplishing anything. He didn't want to face Mr. Anzai until he could hold his head high. He wanted to prove himself… and then come back."
Mrs. Anzai fell silent.
"…So that's why Coach Anzai has changed so much," Kudo murmured.
"Exactly," she said. "You know he's getting old. He has heart problems now. He can't handle stress like he used to. And Tanizawa's death… it crushed him. He always believed his strict training was what made players stronger. But this time, he couldn't help wondering if he had been too hard on Tanizawa."
"So that's why he stepped down from the university team…" Kudo realized. "Because he can't handle the emotional weight anymore."
Mrs. Anzai nodded. "Please don't hold it against him, Kudo. It wasn't his fault."
"Of course not!" Kudo said quickly. "I would never blame Coach Anzai for something like that."
Trying to lighten the mood, he asked, "So what's Coach up to now? Just resting at home?"
"Well," she smiled faintly, "he's been invited to Shohoku High School. He's helping out with their basketball team. It seems… he just can't let go of the game."
"Is his health strong enough for that?" Kudo asked.
"Not really. He doesn't go very often. Just drops by occasionally to give advice. Shohoku is a public high school, so there's not as much pressure on results."
"I see," Kudo nodded in understanding.
(Note: In Japan, private schools often emphasize athletic success to attract students and justify their higher tuition fees. Public prefectural schools like Shohoku are part of the national compulsory education system and don't focus as heavily on sports achievements. Just look at Sakuragi's family background and grades in the original series.)
"We're here. This is the station," Mrs. Anzai said as the car rolled to a stop.
"Thank you again for everything," Kudo said as he stepped out. "Take care of yourself."
"Goodbye, Kudo," she waved.
"Goodbye, ma'am," Kudo responded respectfully, then walked into the station, deep in thought.