"Hey! Think fast!"
Shigehiro Ogiwara, a male of 16 years, looked at the red haired girl as she chucked the basketball at him with possibly the worst overhand throw he'd ever seen. It landed far to his right, and then bounced past him, banging against the tree behind him.
"Do you have a vision problem or something?" He asked her.
"Just keeping you on your toes." She replied, cheerful as ever as she ran over picking it up again. She bounced it then said, "Up for a game?"
Miyamoto Akane, a girl of 15 years, placed a hand on her hip while the other holding the ball, her scarlet hair in a vibrant bloody color, gave him an I-dare-you look.
There had been a time when he loved basketball more than anything, like he could eat, sleep or breathe the sport; now, he didn't dare touch the ball. It was in the past, there was no point in looking back. Yet, ever since the girl in front of him arrived, basketball began pestering his life again.
He shook his head, "It's too early for me."
"It's 8:30, Shigehiro. Get with the program."
"I've been up since five."
"Really?" She bounced the ball again. "Doing what?"
"Remembering." He yawned, and then turned to the direction of his house.
Ogiwara walked a few steps, rummaging in his pocket for his keys. Inside his house, he could imagine the lights were still on; his dad had probably stayed awake again taking the work at home.
"Want to know what I think?" Akane called out behind him.
"No."
"I think," she continued, ignoring his answer, "that you're scared."
He turned around and just looked at her. "Scared."
"Of my game," she explained, "My skills. My-"
The orange head walked closer to her, reached out, easily knocking the ball form her hand. It hit the pavement and rolled outside the range of the court on the grass.
"Well you see, I wasn't in defensive mode just then." She ran past the line, picking up the ball and giving it an authoritative bounce. "Now, I am. Bring it on."
"I told you," he said, folding his arms over his chest. The darker shade of his orange hair made his eyes look gloomy. "I'm not interested."
She sighed, "Shigehiro, come on. You live in a basketball town, your dad was an alumni basketball player of Meiko, you were a basketball player of Meiko and I happen to let you personally experience my overhand shot."
"Yes, but basketball doesn't have the best associations for me right now." He pointed out.
"You can't blame the game for any of that," she said, bouncing the ball again. "Basketball is a good thing. Basketball only wants you to be happy."
He looked at her as she dribbled sloppily around him towards the basket.
"Now," he said, "you sound like a crazy person."
"Think fast!" she said. Whirling around and throwing the ball at him. He caught it easily and she looked surprised. "Okay, fine. Shoot it."
"Akane." His tone laced with warning.
"Ogiwara. Humor me. Just one shot."
"You've seen me shoot." He pointed out.
"Yes, in P.E., and you owe me for knocking me out with the ball."
A flash of memory appeared in his mind, it was how they met. Basketball made them meet. It was a practical quiz about basketball in P.E. Back then, he tried to avoid the sport; forgetting that their next lesson was about basketball, he attended, only to be ridiculed by a former school mate; Anger got the best of him and he angrily threw the ball only to knock Akane.
"I was angry." He reasoned.
"And I was hit." The girl looked at him, deadpanned.
Ogiwara sighed, bounced the ball once and then squared his shoulders.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Well, if it isn't Kuroko! It's rare for you to call instead of text." He greeted cheerfully.
"Are you busy at the moment?" Kuroko asked.
"Nope, what's up?" He grinned, even though Kuroko couldn't see him.
"Well you see…" Kuroko started telling him about his team mate Aomine. He thought about it seriously, that guy was one of the people Kuroko looked up to, one who gets along with and whom he wanted to play basketball with.
"Hmm… I see, so the ace has been skipping practice…" He thought out loud.
"What do you think?" Kuroko asked.
"What do I think?" He asked incredulous, and then he paused again to really think about it.
"That's a tough one…" Ogiwara commented and then paused, yet to think again. "Wait, why are you even asking me?"
"You and Aomine are very much alike, so I thought you maybe have an idea…"
"What are you expecting exactly?!" He asked, a little flabbergasted. "And we're not alike!"
There was a millisecond pause.
"Not that I've met him!" He added.
But then he paused to think, again.
"hmm… I can't say for certain but he seems different from that Haizaki guy you've mentioned before… It's not as though he's begun to dislike basketball or anything, has he? Rather, maybe he likes it more than anyone else that he no longer comes to practice." He babbled.
"What do you…?"
"I don't know either. It's just a feeling, man, a feeling!" He exclaimed. "But if there's one thing I can say for sure, it's that he saved you from time and time again, right?"
"This time, it's your turn to help him. Isn't that what team mates are for?" And this time, the orange head wasn't babbling anymore, this time, he spoke with certainty.
It was so long ago, he pondered why he was suddenly remembering such memories. Was it because he was holding a basketball? A painful reminder that he failed to pull his team mates together? Or that he wasn't saved by a team mate?
Now, he stood there with Akane, holding the ball. She was grinning, in defensive stance- bent over slightly, jumping from side to side waving her hands in his face.
"Just try to get past me," she said, doing a weird wiggle move. "I dare you."
He rolled his eyes, and then bounced the ball once to the left before cutting right around her. She scrambled to catch up, doing several illegal reach-ins as he moved closer to the basket.
"You've basically fouled out in the last five seconds," He told her as she batted at the ball, him, and the air around both of them. "You know that, right?"
"This is street ball!" she said, elbowing him in the gut, making him gasp. "No fouls!"
"Oh, okay. In that case…" He dribbled the ball sideways preventing her to reach it and then flicked her nose.
Her hands shot up to her nose rubbing it as he moved under the basket. In those few seconds, the net clear above, he remembered all the things his dad has taught him: watch the hoop, elbows tight, touch light, light, light.
He shot the ball arching perfectly.
"Denied!" Akane shouted, leaping up and touching the ball away, making him miss his shot.
"Interference!" He called out, grabbing it back, a raging look on his face.
"Street ball." She replied, backing away at the edge of the court.
He tried to reach her for payback but ended up tripping, he ended up tackling her and they both went down onto the grass, as the ball left his hand rolling away from them.
For a moment, they just lay there, his arms loosely around her, both of them breathing heavily.
Finally, she said, "Okay, so with that, you left the realm of basketball entirely."
"Full contact," he said, his voice muffled by her hair, breathing in her lavender shampoo. "No guts, no glory and I hardly call this glory."
"You didn't make the shot, did you?" She smirked.
He rolled over so he was on his back, Akane panting beside him.
"You are, like, the weirdest basketball player I have ever seen."
"Thank you." She said.
The once small forward basketball player of Meiko, laughed out loud.
"What? Was that supposed to be an insult?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"How could it be anything else?" He chuckled.
She shrugged, brushing her hair out of her face. "I don't know, I was thinking my game is unique, if that's what you're saying."
"That's one word for it." The grin on his face seemed plastered.
They lay there for another moment. His arm still next to hers, elbow to elbow, fingertips to fingertips. The warmth seemed ingrained between them. After a moment, she rolled over and he did the same, so they were facing each other.
"Want to make it best out of two?" she asked, hopefully.
"You didn't score." He pointed out.
"Details." She said. Her mouth inches from him. "We big thinkers choose not to dwell on them."
Suddenly, he was sure she was going to kiss him. She was there; he could feel her breath, the ground solid beneath them. Something hung between them, something fragile, it felt like losing, at the same time a loud drumming of the heart to winning. And it was slipping between them fast.
But something crossed her face, a thought, a hesitation and she shifted slightly. Not now. Not yet. It was something he has done so often ever since he was broken by basketball- weighing what he could afford to risk, right at the moment. He recognized it instantly. It was like looking in a mirror.
"I think a rematch is in order," she said after a moment.
"The ball is away from us."
"I can get it. I always pick up the ball."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, teasingly.
She stood up, choosing to ignore this, "You know you talk this tough game and everything. But I know the truth about you."
"And what's that again?" He asked, getting up to his feet.
"Secretly," she answered. "You want to play with me. In fact you need to play with me. Because deep down, you love basketball as much as I do."
"Loved." He corrected. "Past tense."
"Not true." She walked around him towards the ball. "I saw how you squared up your shoulders. There was love there."
"You saw love in my shot." He said, clarifying.
"Yeah." She stopped behind the ball and kicked it gently, the ball rolling towards him. "I mean, it's not surprising really. Once you love something, you always love it in some way. You have to. It's like, a part of you for good."
He wondered what she meant by this, and in the next beat, found himself surprised but the memory that suddenly popped in his head:
"We made in into the championships. Let's face each other in the summer."
He smiled at the text sent by Kuroko.
"HEY! What're you up to?" his team mate shouted. "We're leaving you behind, Shige!"
"Ah, wait up!" He jogged to catch up with them as he pocketed his phone.
"Man, it's so hot!" he complained, fanning himself. "The summer… What are you talking about; it's like summer's already here!"
"But that just means we'll be able to meet soon!" He cheered by himself, earning a few weird looks and chuckles from his team mates, dubbing him an airhead. "I became a starting member too, Kuroko."
"I'm looking forward to it!" Excitement crept up his spine that left him tingling.
Shigehiro Ogiwara picked up the ball and threw it at Miyamoto Akane.
"You ready to play?" the emerald eyed girl asked, bouncing the ball.
"I don't know," He said, a grin gracing his lips. "Are you going to cheat?"
"It's street ball." She insisted, chucking the ball back to me. "Show me that love."
So cheesy… he thought.
But, he did feel it, something solid in his chest. Maybe it was in the breeze that swept around them, or the rough feel of the ball against his palms, or the eyes that looked at him with stubborn determination, or the warmth from their contact earlier. He couldn't tell whether it was love or not. Or maybe it was something else.
Something what was left of love.
"Alright." He said. "Let's play."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Author's Note:
Hey guys! I'm sorry for those standing by my other KnB fanfics, I wrote them first, but I ended up finishing this one first. The idea screamed in my head and I was afraid that I was about to forget it. I dunno if Ogiwara is OOC here, he was described as cheerful and an airhead right? And also clumsy? This is a oneshot. This is the idea on how Ogiwara would come back to basketball. It was cheesy, I know.
But hey, I gotta dream right?
And another reason for not updating for awhile my other fanfics is that, I was assigned to be a scriptwriter for our Psychological Film Fest and it has to be, you know, Psychological, it was my first time writing in that genre and I had a hard time because when I showed the first half, my classmates told me it was nice but actually when I turned my back they began stabbing me with insults, be it with social media, or in school. They said my scrip was useless. Well, I got a little dramatic. Not really, it just made me feel stupid for skipping class to write the script, sacrificing my attendance for my major courses that I wanted to kill them.
O.o
Hahaha, now I'm over it. But you know when they finished reading the script, they told me it was great. They said it has a shot of winning.
Pft! As if I'd believe them anymore, you know what I mean?
So about the author? I forgive people for their mistakes, but does that mean I also have to forget? NOPE! I forgive but not forget!
BOOOOOOOOMZ!
Thank you for bearing with me. Okay, It wasn't true, I always forget. That's why I'm easily fooled.
Love you all like sandwiches!