Title: The Unlikely Transformation of Hanamiya Makoto

By: Technotonic

Disclaimer:

Is it okay is I own Hanamiya? No? O-Okay…

I know I'm twisted when I say this but he's probably my favorite character in KnB. Probably because of Fukuyama Jun, though. I'd marry that man's voice on the spot.

Summary:

What if "Bad Boy" Hanamiya Makoto attended Seirin instead of Kirisaki Daiichi? KiyoHana, Others-KagaKuro, AoKise, MidoTaka, etc

Author's Note:

So I got this idea because I love Hanamiya and Kiyoshi together. You know, after watching the latest episodes in Season 2. This is sort of like an AU though I guess. Maybe? Interpret it how you want.

Anyways, this series starts at the very beginning of KnB. Hanamiya has gone to Kirisaki Daiichi, but never joined the basketball club. That's why Kiyoshi's here because Miya never hurt him. :D

I actually contemplated on whether or not to keep most of the canon elements of their relationship in this fic. Like Hanamiya hurting Kiyoshi, or how Hyuuga really hates Miya's guts. But it seemed too much, and I'm a naturally lazy person.

Oh, and btw, I wrote this really late and quickly. It probably sucks, but whatever. I think there should be more KiyoHana in the fandom.

Chapter 1:

"Are you interested in rugby?"

No, you idiot. Now leave me alone. Go bother some other worthless garbage.

"Have you ever played Shogi?"

Why, yes I have. And I completely crushed everyone. With my eyes closed, of course.

"If you're Japanese, then baseball is the way to go!"

How overrated. I'd rather be from Mars than to be associated with you. Sucks to be a mindless, unoriginal, mediocre piece of—trash.

"Swimming! It feels super!"

Is it the same way I feel when I crush someone's hopes and dreams? If not, then don't bother asking me.

As expected, Seirin was as average as average could get. All these good natured, upstanding citizens were making me figuratively puke my guts out. And commit some barbaric ritual of human sacrifice. I couldn't believe I had to bless my genius onto these ignorant souls. At least at Kirisaki Daiichi, there was a plethora of delinquents I could mentally torture without facing any troublesome consequences. Now how was I going to get my daily dose of mental exercise and sadistic pleasure?

To get the story straight, after enjoying a rather pleasant year at Kirisaki Daiichi High, my parents had decided—without my consent—to transfer me to this school of fools because the curriculum at Seirin was somehow superior. Although I'll admit that Kirisaki Daiichi's education system was probably designed by some handicapped five year old, the school suited me my purposes.

I am a genius. An evil genius—mind you, there is a difference. My IQ is well above 160, and I could probably take over the world if I really wanted to, but atlas, that is an incredibly stupid, boring, and childish dream. In fact, I dislike even the notion of sappy dreams and goals, and teeth-rotting words like hope and love. If you were dying of cancer, I would be the person to create the cure, and then feed it to my dog right in front of you. That is where my evil comes in. And I cherish it.

My time at Kirisaki Daiichi was a blast. Nobody gave a crap about what happened to delinquents. In fact, I believe some of the teachers were secretly rooting for me. By the end of the first week, I had earned my place as the scariest mindfucker in Japan. I was actually rather proud of that achievement—it was like a milestone in my life. But good times come to an end here at Seirin. If I was going to mentally scar someone's life here, it had to be discreet. And I hated not having people acknowledge my great evil.

Thus, I decided to turn my attention to Seirin's vast amounts of useless clubs to bide my time. Apparently Seirin had a policy that required all students to join at least one club, and it would be irksome to deal with school authorities on the first day of school. So, as I was mentally trying to stab a karate club member to death, this huge idiot waves a flyer in front of my face, trying to get my priceless attention. Keep your freakishly big hands to yourself. I didn't say this aloud, but I was pretty sure a glare sufficed.

"Seirin Basketball Club," the Idiot said calmly, as if he did not feel my murderous vibe, "Want to join?"

I had wanted to ignore him, but the Idiot was freaking huge, and the crowd just wouldn't get out of my way. Coolly, I replied, "No. Not interested."

Strangely, he was unperturbed—that bastard. Just when I was thinking of ways to ruin this nameless idiot's life, he spoke up again, "Why not? You're Hanamiya Makoto, right? An Uncrowned King."

Belatedly, I realized that my first reaction should've been to ask how he knew my name. Somehow my evil genius did not work efficiently in mundane Seirin. But then again, how could he not know me? As I said, I was the scariest mindfucker in Japan.

"You are…Kiyoshi from Shoei?" My mouth started before I even had a chance to plan out my thoughts. I quickly covered it up with a confident smirk, "I remember that game. Sixteen point difference. Your team was pathetic."

Kiyo—I mean, the Idiot surprisingly forgot about the dirty tricks I used to break his team. It was truly a masterpiece, seeing how broken their morale was when my team had won. They had looked so angry, so full of hate and disappointment. I wondered if I could recreate that moment. Wait, now I remember—the Idiot was the only one who had seemed to survive my mind game. No wonder he was still so oblivious. Makes me want to break him.

"Well, we were a relatively new team then." The annoying idiot chuckled. But just as I was going to ignore his stupid banter and get on my merry way, he stopped me—again. Although he was still smiling, his eyes were cold. "Your team wasn't exactly honest."

Huh, so he knew—what a bastard, trying to use his obliviousness to trick me. Wait—I wasn't fooled by his stupidity, I just—

Never mind. It was probably just Seirin's goody-two-shoe atmosphere that was affecting me. Time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Shifting my gaze downward, I squirmed nervously, as if ashamed of my dishonest past. After pausing for a sufficient amount of time to garner sympathy, I let a pathetic apology slip through my quivering lips.

"Look…I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to go that far. At the time, I—" I carefully let my eyes shift upwards, eliciting a shocked reaction from the gigantic idiot. My mouth was twitching with anticipation. His brown eyes were slowly melting from the earlier ice cold, and I knew that I had successfully suckered him. My voice rose, "How else was I suppose to defeat Teikou? The Generation of Miracles? It was because of them that I lost faith in playing honestly."

Yes.

"I was called an Uncrowned King, but they ruthlessly humiliated me, and laughed at my weakness and insignificance."

Yes.

"After they crushed my team, I—I stopped playing basketball. Because of them."

YES.

"They made something I loved into something I hate."

Oh God, just give me that Academy Award now. You know I deserve.

Just as I was going to utterly destroy this wonderfully constructed fantasy, the Fool grabbed my hand, catching me off guard. One look at his face, and I realized that he drank up those lies way too well. He looked with such sickening, pitying eyes that just wanted to barf up my intestines and feed it to a dog. Stop looking at me like you care. Like you want to change me. Because I just wanted to break you.

This was the perfect time to break him, caught up in this spider's web. But I was silent, and he was silent, and we just stayed like that. Why wasn't my evil side coming to save the day?

As I continued my internal war, Kiyo—the Fool started to drag me to wherever, and I honestly could do nothing about it. That man was unnaturally big, and his hands were the size of basketballs or something. They wrapped tightly around my wrists, like handcuffs.

"W-What the—?" I tried to stop him, but he had obviously been training for whatever upcoming tournament, and I had not. We must have looked like a rather strange tug-a-war, one dragging and the other pulling away.

Before I had even realized it, we had arrived at wherever the brainless bear wanted to take me. An average looking girl and a stupid looking boy with nerdy classes were manning the registration table, looking slightly stunned when their club member suddenly shoved me in front.

"He wants to join," Kiyoshi—I mean, the Idiot said boldly, motioning to me with his obnoxiously large hands.

"He's lying." I immediately objected. Damn, how did things end up like this? I absolutely hate it when nothing goes according to plan. I had no idea what to say next.

"He's an Uncrowned King," The big buffoon added, as if that helped with anything. Already, he was starting to fill out a registration form for me—without my approval.

Registration was surprisingly simple after that comment, and the girl—probably the manager of Seirin's team—immediately has a starry-eyed look, mentally drooling over something I could not comprehend. I was slightly disturbed at her mention of taking off my shirt, but I ignored it. It didn't even matter that I was forced against my will to join an insignificant basketball club. The most important thing was to figure out how to get the big buffoon's hands off. His hands were still forcefully locked onto my wrists. I was not going to tolerate this shenanigan any longer. I was going to give him the biggest wakeup call in history.

"You know, you're probably the biggest idiot I've ever had the misfortune of ever meeting." I spat the words out viciously, my tone dark and murderous, "What? Did you actually think those pretty words I said earlier were true? Because I would never say such disgusting—"

I was cut off once again by a tight squeeze on my wrist.

Wait. Why did I stop talking?

"Seirin is different. You can play honest basketball here."

I just stared in disgust.

His smile was disgustingly sweet and naïve—everything I wanted to destroy. I was known as a "Bad Boy", a person who purposely caused pain and suffering to everyone, and my basketball play reflected that. I was Kiyoshi's exact opposite—the most dishonest basketball player.

Underhanded.

Cunning.

Deceiving.

A Bad Boy touched things meant to stay pure and shattered it into a million pieces. I should break this smile, break Kiyoshi Teppei's faith and trust, and watch him self-destruct. It would be fun to watch, and it would be best to enjoy this slowly.

Joining Seirin's Basketball Club was only the first step of this masterpiece.

For now, I'll let that brainless idiot think what he wanted to think—that he could change me.

Well, at least, now I have something to look forward too.

If only he knew what was going on in my mind.

"So let's go have fun, Miya~!"

What did this guy call me?

You will regret that, Kiyoshi Teppei...!