He remembered when it was just him, yes, just him against the world, the goddamn world. He remembered when it was him and Kiyoshi, him and fucking Kiyoshi standing there smiling like nothing was wrong. He remembered when he broke Kiyoshi and he had always wished it had been him personally who had done it instead of one of his drones, but that glasses boy had nearly popped a blood vessel yelling at him, he nearly attacked him, but then Kiyoshi told not to and Hanamiya saw glasses break and heard the cracks in Kiyoshi's voice.
Without Kiyoshi, Seirin had to go home and boo hoo for them. And he knew he had heard Kiyoshi break.
Then he had come back, of course he had, come back for round two, but Hanamiya had predicted this because often the broken don't know they're trash until they're finally heaved in the dump, in the landfill. Kiyoshi took it all with a fucking smile and that only made Hanamiya want to shatter him into pieces so small you would never be able to sweep them up.
Perhaps that was his undoing. Because he focused so much on damn Kiyoshi—and maybe that had been Kiyoshi's plan all along, too simple for a genius like Hanamiya to ever suspect—because he focused on Kiyoshi the rest of the team escaped unscathed which meant that Kiyoshi really escaped unhurt too, despite the bruises and cuts and welts Hanamiya the hell-cat had inflicted.
Hanamiya didn't break because in the beginning he only had hate and loneliness and that was what he had now, what he never wanted to get rid of, what he never was going to get rid of no matter what.
He knew Kiyoshi didn't like him so why did the giant show up one gray day—he never came at night, no, Kiyoshi was a "morning person"—on his doorstep when surely he knew he wouldn't be able to leave without scratches. Why? The game was over, so there was no more need for him to focus all of Hanamiya's hate onto just one person.
Hanamiya didn't care so he just fucked to forget, fucked to fucking kill Kiyoshi because maybe, one day, the bruises would be enough and he'd stop showing up, would never show up again, fucked, too, because Kiyoshi was a good fuck, big and strong; he fucking filled Hanamiya and never complained about the biting and the scratches, enjoyed the biting and the scratches. He would croon and Hanamiya fucking hated that. He hated it too when Kiyoshi made him scream, made him scream like some little bitch he'd just destroyed on the court, made him whine like a cat begging for food.
But Kiyoshi kept on coming. He kept on coming even though Hanamiya knew from overheard phonecalls that Kiyoshi's friends—glasses, probably, and maybe the coach, and maybe the fuckers with the rainbow hair—didn't know why Kiyoshi kept on coming any better than he did. And Hanamiya knew he didn't love Kiyoshi, because he never kicked him out while he was still sleeping. No, he waited until Kiyoshi woke up on his own to kick him out and that little mercy was never given to him by his parents who had loved him as all parents do, so he obviously didn't love Kiyoshi. What Hanamiya did know was that in the beginning he only had hate and loneliness, and that he still had hate but he was no longer alone.
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed!