Rating: T

Summary: They were different but also similar, and proved to be strange teammates.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Tadatoshi Fujimaki.

I apologize for the eventual inconsistencies and inaccurate shit orz

Day 5: olympics – glory

They looked a lot alike in matches, but on screen Kise and Haizaki were poles apart. Being on different professional teams only bored the gap between them deeper. Kise had been a model, and everyone who knew him was relieved to see that his normal behaviour and cheerful personality had remained the same despite him changing careers. Always giving answers full of sentiment, close to his fans as ever and sharing his experience with passion. He was still the Kise Ryouta adored by people.

Haizaki on the other hand wasn't that famous when he debuted in professional league. Those who followed the matches of the former Generation of Miracles might know him since they faced off multiple times, but otherwise it came as a real surprise when people saw he had the same abilities as Kise. On screen, while interviewed, he would scowl and make snappy remarks about 'his relationship bordering rivalry with Kise Ryouta'—because he stated they were only acquaintances and nothing more, nothing less. He didn't show any of Kise's bubbly personality but the recognition in his eyes was the only indication he was interested in the other player.

When they played against each other, they would pull off moves mirrored from one another and the match often ended up in competition of how many times they had copied the other. From the looks on their faces, they were enjoying themselves in this weird agreement of theirs, their teammates also playing and supporting them but they weren't paying any real attention to them.

So when they had been chosen to be part of the Japanese National Team, it was strange. People were expecting Kise Ryouta and Haizaki Shougo, the two Miracle Copycats, to fight and to act scornful since they had more than once displayed some kind of animosity towards each other outside of the court. What they got was far from it.

"Shougo-kun? We haven't been in the same team since middle school, I'm excited! Blast from the past."

"Yeah well, we didn't exactly play together either. That's like the first time as teammates, in fact."

(And from the States, Aomine had probably screamed and choked at the mention of 'Kise', 'Haizaki' and 'teammates'.)

Some couldn't understand the choice because they basically had the same style; others would argue and say they maybe were reserved players for each other; and the other players were actually interested in their team-up.

Their styles didn't change—their asset was still copying, and over the years and practice, Haizaki could reproduce the moves of the former Generation of Miracles to a lesser extent than Kise, but Kise also preferred to focus on his fundamentals and resorted to the Perfect Copy as a trump card. This was why in training camps they were relatively tame, not throwing snarky comments at each other like they could have done in-between matches when they were on separate teams, focusing on their common and only goal: winning.

But one day they teamed up during practice and it was incredible to say the least. They said they had never actually played together, but they knew each other pretty well—then again all rivals knew the style and moves and train of thought of their opponent. They switched from defense to offense quite smoothly, all the while casting glances at each other, passing and scoring and smirking—grinning? Of course they got scored back, but that didn't deter them as harder the challenge was, the better. They were getting thrilled and while Haizaki could get carried away to the point of being a bit aggressive, Kise was there to remind him to cool down and they would resume their so-called first combination. And sometimes, at the end of practice, they would high-five as if they were friends—because despite the scowl on Haizaki's face and Kise pretending they weren't close, they were always, always, sneaking smiles at one another when they thought no one was looking.

They would stay behind in the locker rooms or in the showers, giving an excuse to the other players and brushing off their questions, and once they made sure everyone had left they would literally be at each other's throats.

"I thought you were trying to kill me with those looks you were giving me," Haizaki said in a rough voice, nipping at Kise's neck.

"Funny, I was thinking the same," Kise breathed, hands firmly pressed against the lockers.

Haizaki moved to the jaw line, dropping kisses along the way but also sucking and making Kise gasp and moan, swallowing hard before he grabbed Haizaki's ass to close the gap between them. Against his throat he felt his partner smirking and maybe the hungry and desperate kiss they shared after turned into something more and maybe they forgot they shouldn't go too far to avoid suspicion, but they didn't really care.

When the Olympics started and they did play together, they caught photographers' eyes because of the sort of dance they showed with their similar moves and how coordinate they often were, despite the differences in their stances and ways of manifesting their abilities. Kise also easily slipped into his teammates' styles and relied on them and they relied on him, but Haizaki sometimes forgot he didn't only have Kise as a teammate—despite the amount of hours they spent practicing teamwork.

Then Kise, as always, took the spotlight and scored the last points before the match was over, and the Japanese team won their first match with a little advance, but won all the same. They yelled and screamed and pumped fists in the air and Kise went to put his arms around his teammates' shoulders, laughing and perhaps a bit too overjoyed for the beginning of the Olympics. Nevertheless Haizaki's lips stretched into a smirk and he high-fived Kise, image forever immortalized in a photograph, showing their happiness and pride. They lined up, bowed, and returned to the locker rooms; they put their arms around each other's shoulders all the way to their destination and maybe they lingered a bit when they pulled apart.

They could try to hide anything they wanted, but the looks they shared and the complicity they obviously had didn't go unnoticed by some of their teammates, who only offered them a knowing smile when they said they only began to really know each other—but in retrospect, they probably did. Same team, same passions; they got to start over and to get things right.