I marathoned the entire anime again and got too many feels.

Tbh there should be more Momoi-centric fics on here.

I do not own Kuroko no Basket.

Momoi Satsuki was more than just her ample chest. She was more than just the "annoying girl who hung around Aomine Daiki" or the "girl with the annoying voice that squealed whenever Kuroko Tetsu came by."

And she was definitely more than just the Generation of Miracle's manager.

Momoi Satsuki was intelligent. Momoi Satsuki was caring. And Momoi Satsuki could be manipulative, calculative, and ruthless when she wanted to be — or when she was required to be. Throughout her second year of middle school, Satsuki lied, cheated, and stalked...all for the sake of their team.

She was alright with that. She didn't mind at all. Her morals had never been as strong as her love for her boys. That was who they were: her stubborn, stupid, dorky boys that would laugh and ruffle her hair after practice, thanking her for the drinks she brought and teasing her for her short stature. She would do anything to make her boys happy.

But somewhere along the line, they stopped being her boys. Satsuki didn't know what kind of monsters had replaced the boys she treasured (loved), but their arrogant smirks and the devastating scoreboard left an empty feeling...no, a hollow void in her chest.

She tried pushing on for her boys, hoping they'd come back to her in time. But instead, they kept moving forward, leaving her behind. Soon, they were called the Generation of Miracles, and Satsuki was nothing more than their manager. It was funny, in a way: Satsuki was even more forgotten than Kuroko, the phantom sixth man. She was the backstage helper, the assistant, the background character...essentially nothing.

The lack of recognition from the fans didn't bother her: it was a good thing, in a way. Plenty of Teiko girls were jealous because Satsuki got to spend time with their idols, but at least girls from other schools didn't harass her. Satsuki was strong (she had to be, for them) and the barbed insults and whispered jeers never bothered her.

What did bother her was her team's growing apathy. Gone were the days of sharing ice cream and victorious team dinners. Instead, after every match, Satsuki walked quietly (three steps behind everyone else) and listened to them laugh about their "weak" opponents. When (if)someone turned to glance at her about her questionable silence, Satsuki would plaster a (fake) smile on her face and coo about "Tetsu-kun's" coolness to divert their attention from her.

...speaking of which...

"Oi, Satsuki, you listening to us?"

Satsuki blinked, then flushed and gave the team a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I spaced out! What was that, Aomine-kun?"

He scowled at the title, but Satsuki couldn't bring herself to call him Dai-chan. This wasn't the bright, vivacious Dai-chan of her youth. This wasn't the boy who loved basketball with his heart and soul, the boy who would treat everyone with subtle kindness, the boy who cared about spending time about his friends rather than winning. "Tetsu said you've been quiet lately."

Tetsu-kun nodded, his eyes flickering with the faintest amount of worry. "Is something the matter, Momoi-san?"

"Nothing, nothing," she laughed, waving off their concern. "I'm just thinking."

"You think, Satsuki?" Aomine scoffed.

"Hey, that's mean!" Satsuki protested, pouting. "I was in very deep thought, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't be mean to Momocchi, Aominecchi," Kise scolded, immediately stirring up a flurry of protest from the navy blue-haired player about how he was simply being honest, thank you very much. Satsuki couldn't help the small smile that tugged on her features as she watched the scene, nostalgia threatening to overwhelm her. It almost felt as if they were back in their second year when everything was fun and they were a team…

Satsuki blinked when she realized that her phone had a notification. Sneaking a glance at her bickering teammates, she opened up the message. Ahh, it's from Micchan…

Arai Miki and Kikuchi Atsuko were Satsuki's only female friends, as they similarly were harassed because of their basketball manager statuses. Satsuki had taken to complaining to them about the change in her team's dynamics: even though they were the second and third string managers, they could somewhat relate. The coaches drove everyone harder as Teiko's prestigious basketball club grew in fame.

[MICCHAN]: I think...I'm going to quit.

Quit? Satsuki resisted the urge to gasp out loud, instead swiping open her friend's contact and calling her. Midorima sent her a questioning glance, but Satsuki shrugged and mouthed "girl stuff" to deter him. "Gotta take a call!" she declared cheerfully, waving at them as they all dispersed their separate ways. "Aomine-kun, go on without me."

"Goddammit woman, stop calling me that," Aomine grumbled. Even so, he obliged, throwing his bag over his shoulder and walking away to give her some privacy. Satsuki had to hide her grin as she noticed him plop on a bench and slouch sulkily: even now, he still waited to walk her home. That was...well, something, right?

"Hello?"

"Ahh, Micchan! Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?" Satsuki asked, biting her lip. "Why...what's the matter? Why would you say such a thing?"

"...Satsuki, I can't do this...the second string members are just so bitter."

"Bitter?"

"Do you know that three members turned in resignation forms yesterday? They...they think that they're worthless, just because they can't match up to the Generation of Miracles. It's getting really bad there, Satsuki...either they're all pretentious snobs who think they're cool because they're part of Teiko, or they're depressed idiots who hate basketball…"

Satsuki...wasn't able to say anything to that. Her breath caught in her throat. "Micchan, I'm so sorry…"

"Satsuki...your team...I know you love them, but can't you get them to tone things down? I was talking with Atsuko...it's not just our team members who are feeling disheartened, you know. Losing...losing a basketball match usually isn't bad, but losing that badly…"

"It's not their fault they can't keep up," came out of Satsuki's mouth automatically, an echo of what Aomine had grumbled earlier.

Micchan's voice was indignant, the disappointed note in her voice practically slapping her in the face. "Satsuki, listen to yourself! Do you realize how arrogant that sounds?"

Satsuki winced. "But...it's true…"

"Satsuki…" Micchan's voice softened, sounding almost nostalgic. Reminiscent. Desperate. "Do you remember that day when you, Atsuko, and I became friends? We all sat together on the school rooftop during lunch, chatting about our team members. I asked you why you signed up to be a manager. Do you remember your answer?"

As a matter of fact, Satsuki did. It wasn't to help her teammates win. It wasn't to stay with Dai-chan. It wasn't even to pursue Tetsu-kun. The reason she had signed up as manager...it was to support them. She had wanted to support her boys.

The realization struck her like lightning, and for a moment, Satsuki couldn't breathe. She...she didn't need them to win. She didn't even want them to win. The reason she had joined was to help them smile...but now, even winning left them unsatisfied. "I wanted...to make them smile," she answered softly, her voice wavering. "Micchan...when did I forget?"

"Idiot," Micchan said fondly. "You never did. You always wanted to make them smile, but you just started associating winning with smiling."

"Micchan...how do I make them smile?" She swallowed down a wave of panic. When was the last time she saw her team (her boys) smiling? When was the last time she heard them all laugh together...genuinely?

"You know them better than me, Satsuki."

Micchan was right, as always. "Micchan, thank you," she said softly. "Do you...do you really need to quit? Are you okay with that?"

Like dominoes, her friend's strong facade crumbled quickly. "I'm not...but what else do I do? I can't watch them destroy themselves like this, Satsuki...I can't. Maybe...maybe they'll be happier this way. Or maybe leaving will give them a wakeup call."

Satsuki was silent for a few moments, then she declared, "I'll quit, too."

Silence.

"...Satsuki, stop joking."

Satsuki shook her head, even though she knew her friend couldn't see the movement. "Maybe...maybe they'll learn. Even if not...I can't do this anymore, Micchan. I haven't seen them smile for...what seems like ever, and despite my best efforts, I can't make them smile. Besides, friends have to stick together, right?"

"What about Aomine-kun? Or Kuroko-san? You love Ryouta, Midorima, Murasakibara, and Akashi too."

"Either they figure out the problem that caused me to leave, or they'll learn to deal with it," Satsuki answered, her gaze determined and grip on her phone tightening. "I'm not a doormat, Micchan. I know Tetsu-kun might be trying to help them, but I know that whatever I do in that club won't be enough. No amount of information gathering or sports drinks will snap them out of it…"

"Satsuki…"

"Don't feel guilty, Micchan," Satsuki chirped, sensing her friend's guilt easily. Satsuki was trained to read people, after all. "You...you just opened up my eyes. I stayed in the club because I kept naively trying to believe that they'd come back to me without any effort on my part. It's time I do something...or at least try to do something."

"But Kuroko-san might be able to—"

"Tetsu-kun's shy," Satsuki sighed woefully. "He won't speak up...until things get really bad, probably. And the rest of them...aren't the same. Say, if we're going to quit tomorrow...how about we meet up tomorrow evening to buy bath powders?"

Her friend could obviously tell she was changing the subject, but kindly chose to ignore Satsuki's awkward segue. "Sure. I'll call Atsuko. Six, maybe?"

"Sure! See you later, Micchan!" Satsuki beamed, shutting her phone. Strolling to the bench where her childhood friend still sat, she giggled and tried not to think about resignation just yet. "Ne, Aomine-kun, thanks for waiting."

"You talked for way too long, idiot," Aomine complained, shouldering his bag and standing up. They headed off back home in relative silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable one: they knew each other for way too long to feel uncomfortable. But Satsuki basked in the presence of her childhood friend walking alongside her.

I can be selfish...for just a little more, right?

"Ne, Dai-chan," she said suddenly, the usage of his nickname catching his attention. "Remember how we played basketball together when we were younger?"

Aomine craned his neck to his right to stare at her questioningly. Thankfully, he must've read something in her eyes, for he didn't question her. "Yeah, you sucked," he deadpanned.

Satsuki closed her eyes and exhaled. "Can we play like that again? Just once more."

Aomine scoffed, unaware of the brewing storm inside of her. "Idiot, what are you going on for? Feeling nostalgic or something?"

Satsuki had to control her expression before her face fell. "I guess," she replied, shrugging. Her chest hurt, just a little. "Forget it, Ahomine."

"Oi!"

Satsuki smiled.

Satsuki considered mailing in her resignation. She considered possibilities from dramatically stuffing a letter into Akashi's locker to declaring her resignation from the top of the school. Finally, she decided that they at least deserved for her to deliver her resignation forms in person. She owed them that much...even if doing so would be infinitely more painful.

Walking into the gym with her resignation forms, Satsuki did not let herself waver. She did not let herself reconsider her decision, and she did not let herself falter because of her teammates' presence. They were already preoccupied running laps, anyways, so they weren't paying attention to her. She approached Coach Sanada easily, asking softly if she could speak with him privately. The man easily obliged: even though she wasn't an integral member of the team, he respected Satsuki for her information gathering skills. They moved to the end of the bleachers, far enough from the courts so nobody else would eavesdrop.

"Coach Sanada, I formally apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for agreeing to talk to me," Satsuki said politely, bowing and offering her resignation forms to him. Her bangs shielded her expression from sight, but she knew that the coach had taken the papers and was staring at her. "I humbly request of you permission to leave the club."

"Momoi-san...is there a problem that I should be addressing?"

Yes, tell those idiots to pull their heads out of their asses.

"No, sir. With all due respect, I believe that I should seek out new prospects elsewhere. Acting as the club's manager has been an enriching experience, but I would like to broaden my knowledge and expand myself by trying new things," she declared, still bowing. "I'd like to express my thanks for all of the knowledge you've shared with me, but I hope you can support my desire to improve myself. I believe that the team can suffice without me."

Bullshit and lies.

"Momoi-san...the team likes you, you know."

Satsuki straightened her back, her eyes meeting his fiercely. "But they don't need me," she said, shaking her head. "And I shouldn't need them." But I do. I shouldn't.

Coach Sanada's shoulders slumped, and she knew she had placed another heavy burden on his shoulders. She tried not to squirm guiltily. "If this is really what you want, Momoi-san, then there is no use in stopping you…you were a wonderful manager, and those boys were lucky to have you. Good luck in your future endeavors."

"Thank you for your guidance, coach," she repeated, bowing once more. Then, she flashed him a smile and pivoted on her heel. Eyes darting to the basketball court, Satsuki lingered unsurely for a moment. She briefly considered heading to the team to say goodbye, but that would've felt too final. (She wasn't confident in her strength...she wasn't sure if she could withstand their pleas and questions. Satsuki would not give in. She wouldn't, for their sake.)

"It's for the best," she whispered, turning away and strolling out of the gym. To her delight, she saw a girl with short raven hair waiting outside. "Aw, Micchan! Did you wait for me?" she cooed, skipping to her friend cheerily. The ex-manager of Teiko's second string hardly reacted when Satsuki hugged her, sighing and pulling back.

"Satsuki...will you be okay?" she asked.

Satsuki's smile wavered. "I...will be. It's for the best." Right?

"Will...they be okay?"

"Of course," Satsuki scoffed, unintentionally sounding like her childhood friend as she scowled and turned away. Her hands felt infinitely lighter without the pile of papers she usually lugged around. Somehow, that thought left her feeling a bit sad. "They'll be fine. They can win with or without me, anyways." And that was all that mattered to them.

Her female companion stared at her warily, but sighed, relenting, "Alright, you. Let's head to the mall. Atsuko's probably waiting there already."

Of course, it was Aomine who found out first. Or, at the very least, he was the first one to approach her about the matter. "Oi, Satsuki! What the hell?" he demanded, barging into the classroom. He was as dramatic as ever. "Why'd that old geezer say you retired?"

"I didn't retire, idiot, I quit. And Coach Sanada is your coach. Show some respect," Satsuki scolded him, rolling her eyes and returning to her book. "Why don't you sit down? Class is starting."

"Idiot," he growled, "Stop screwing around. You love basketball."

Satsuki paused, tilted her head, and turned to stare at him in the eyes. "I did," she agreed. Then, she unceremoniously turned back around, clearly ignoring him as she opened her book once again. Her childhood friend knew her well enough to take her unspoken hints.

"Dammit, Satsuki!" Aomine cursed, stomping out of the classroom. "I'm telling the others."

Satsuki sighed, not bothering to turn around as her childhood friend stomped out of the classroom. She flipped the page melancholically.

Satsuki was ambushed by Kise on her way to P.E. Unsurprisingly, she wasn't pleased when she felt a weight slam into her and somebody wrapped their arms around her. "Momocchi! Why'd you leave?"

"Kise-san," she acknowledged, smiling at him, her eyebrow twitching out of irritation. She slipped out of his arms and stepped back a few steps to properly face him. Satsuki was annoyed to note that she had to tilt her head upwards to look at him eye to eye: he had grown taller, as had all the boys. "How have you been?"

"Kise-san?" Kise repeated, scandalized. "Momocchi, why are you being so cold?"

"I'm not being cold: I'm just being more formal. We're not club members anymore, so I shouldn't address you so informally."

Kise scowled, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. "Kun."

She shook her head, fighting against the wave of nostalgia that hit her. "San."

"Kun," he demanded.

"Kise-san," she countered.

"Kise-kun."

"Ki-chan," Satsuki begged, refusing to let tears well in her eyes. She had to stay strong: she would not rejoin the club, no matter the brokenhearted expressions the blonde gave her. Conversing with him this way felt too much like old times… "Please...leave."

"Momocchi...are you...okay?"

She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this.

Satsuki suppressed a sob, running past a frozen Ryouta Kise.

"Mo...mo...cchi?"

"Momoi-san."

"Tetsu-kun," she returned weakly, swinging her legs awkwardly as she sat on the park bench. "Shouldn't you be in class right now? Why...why are you...here?"

As always, his expression didn't change. Only they could elicit reactions out of him: Kuroko had always seen Satsuki through slightly different lens. She was just Aomine's friend, an accessory. "Kise-kun told me that you were crying. He was clearly distressed," he explained impassively.

"Tetsu-kun…"

"I want them back, too."

Satsuki froze, bit her lip, and stared intently at her feet. "You really can read people well, Tetsu-kun," she complimented him, her eyes suspiciously watery. "Man, I'm acting...I...I'm sorry, Tetsu-kun. I'm sorry for abandoning you all, but I'm not as strong as you."

"Momoi-san…"

"I admire you so much, you know? To stay with them even though...they're all like this. Our team's falling apart," she admitted, blinking back tears again. "And I couldn't stand it. I tried fooling myself into thinking that I was quitting for a noble cause, you know? Maybe they'll realize how stupid they're being if I quit, I told myself. But I was just trying to make excuses...just trying to find a reason to run away…"

"Momoi-san." Kuroko's tone was urgent enough for her to look up. "Momoi-san," he repeated softly, crouching down so he could look at her properly. "It's okay to cry."

Satsuki stared at him for a long moment, feeling something uncomfortable well in her chest. Then, she broke into loud, ugly sobs, wiping at her face and crying loud enough to make any passerbys give them a wide berth. "I miss them, Tetsu-kun! I miss them the way they were. I kept hoping that everyone would stick together because of basketball, but it's just breaking them apart!" She laughed through her tears, chattering, "And I c-can't d-do a-anyt-thing a-about it…"

She missed walking home together. She missed sharing ice cream with them. She missed hearing them laugh and smile while playing basketball. She missed her team.

"Momoi-san…"

"Dai-chan doesn't hang out with me anymore," Satsuki confessed. "Rarely, anyways. I don't talk with anyone except for a few texts to announce club activities. They're winning...I should be happy for them, right? But somehow, I just feel as if I'm being left behind. It's...it's so lonely, you know? Staying with that club just makes me feel lonelier…I can't do it, Tetsu-kun. I'm sorry."

As if something had broken inside her, she threw her head back in the air and laughed. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Tetsu-kun...everyone..."

"That's enough, Momoi-san," Kuroko said softly. "If...if this sport causes you that much pain...you shouldn't come back."

There had been a selfish part of her that still wanted them to ask her back. Satsuki knew that she should have felt happy or relieved that Kuroko was considering her feelings, but… "I don't think I can come to the championships this year," she said faintly. Her ears were ringing: she almost couldn't hear herself speak. "I...don't think I can stick around here at all, Tetsu-kun. It's too painful, and I'm too weak."

"What are you going to do, then?" His tone was patient and kind, like always. Satsuki wished she could muster the strength to put on a brave face, but her team always managed to strip away all her defenses.

"I'm going to run away for a little," she admitted, ashamed. "I...I'm sorry for abandoning you, Tetsu-kun. I won't make any selfish requests of you, like taking care of them...but please, try to take care of yourself?"

"Take care of...myself?" he repeated questioningly.

Satsuki could tell that he didn't quite understand, but she knew he would eventually. Abruptly, she stood up, laughing and wiping away her tears. "Anyways, Tetsu-kun, if you could try getting those guys off of my case...I'd be really grateful."

"I'll do my best, Momoi-san."

"Mm, thank you~" Satsuki slung her bag over her shoulder, not even bothering to return to school. "Ja, ne."