Disclaimer: I do not own Maria-sama Ga Miteru

A/N: FINALLY! My YumixKanako fic. A few of you know how long I've been trying to do this one. For the LONGEST time I have been trying to come up with some plot line to fit Yumi and Kanako together. And finally, while playing Lilly's route in Katawa Shoujo (Damn great game. Lilly=bestgirl. Fight me), I was struck with this idea.

A short prologue, simply a taste of more to come. The Aperitif of the story, if you will.

Mmm… Aperitif… :D

Enjoy!

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Blindsided

Prologue

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The trill of the whistle.

The squeak of my sneakers.

The slap of the ball on the polished, wooden floor.

The swish of a perfect three-pointer.

And the roar of the crowd when we pulled ahead by another few points.

The exhilaration that came with running down the court, palming the basketball a team member passes to you, only to pass it on again to the next team member, and finally pumping your fist into the air when you see the ball sail through the air and bounce once, twice, on the rim and then finally sink into the basket, winning you two more points.

The feeling of sucking a refreshing, ice-cold bottle of water as you sweat, your shirt sticking to the skin of your back like a second layer of flesh, and forcing out a satisfying sigh of relief as the water settled in your stomach, cooling you from the inside out.

And, not to mention, the camaraderie that comes with playing on your team, relying on them to read your movements, catch your eye from across-court and know you are set and ready to receive the ball, that you are in the perfect position to score those points, or that you can turn right around and have the next team member at your back, ready to continue your pass to the basket.

It was all incredible. And it was why every time I stepped into my sneakers, pulled on my jersey and tied my long, black hair into a tight ponytail, my heart pounded with the same excitement I felt as though it was still my first ever basketball game, all those years ago as a freshman in high school. Even now, as a twenty-two year old in college, I still loved the game as if I had just started playing.

And I was good. I was tall – extremely tall for a girl. I was easily the taller than the other girls on my team. I was taller that the girls on the other team. A lot of people thought I was good at baskerball simply because I was tall, but that was only part of it. I knew where to put my feet, I knew how to dodge, juke, dribble and pass like a pro.

But basketball isn't a one-person game; it's a team game. I was also a great team player. I had a sharp eye for my teammates – being tall made it easy for me to pick the other girls out of the others – and it was just as easy for them to pick me out in the court and toss the ball to me.

It all added up, in the end, because I was a basketball player. It was all I ever wanted to be, and it was my lot in life. Most of my friends played basketball, and all of what I ever talked about was basketball. I had no boyfriends, only my teammates and a ball. I had no job, I only had practice and matches.

Looking back, I would have never thought I could imagine doing anything else.

"Kanako-san!"

At the sound of my name heard about the static roar of the crowd I turned towards the call, holding my arms out to make myself available to receive. My teammate, Keiko, was a few meters away with the ball, but blocked by three other girls, their arms wide and keeping her effectively pinned.

I craned my neck around to scope out the court. Aside from myself, there were at least three others ready and able to pick up the ball from Keiko. I wasn't the only one in position to receive, but I was the only one close to the basket. Well, that made things easy, didn't it?

I raised my arms up, ready to receive and stood up straighter, towering over the other girls on the court.

"Kurosawa-san!" I called out, getting the other girls attention.

Her nod was all the warning I got, and a moment later the ball sailed above the defense's head towards me. I didn't even have to jump up to catch the ball, being so tall, and I whirled around to dribble closer to the basket. As soon as I made it another meter, I found myself blocked by two more girls, and I knew I wouldn't get any closer.

That was fine.

I felt my back stiffen and I held the ball above my head, arching my wrist as to get a good angle on the shot. From this distance, any shot I made would easily count as a three-pointer, and I was particularly good at those. Maybe it was my height, or maybe it was just because I had a good handle on my hand-eye coordination. Whatever the reasons, if I had the proper opportunity to line up my shot – only a moment or two was all it took – then I rarely ever missed.

My eyes focused on the basket, well above the defense's heads, and I lined up the ball with the goal. I bent my legs and readied my jump. I sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled, pushing myself into a small hop to give myself just the smallest boost in my shot—

"Hosokawa!"

"Kanako-san!"

All the warning I had, aside from my name being called above the din of the crowds and squeaks of the sneakers, aside from the flashing lights from cameras and the spotlights, was the sudden pressure on the back of my legs. My mind registered it, oddly enough, as someone running into me from behind, and catching my calves as they stumbled on the court.

Regardless, it was all it took to knock me over, sending me sailing backwards like an action figure being tossed over a child's shoulder. I flipped backwards, my stomach flipping with the sensation of vertigo, and the last thing I saw before I felt the distinct 'crack' of the back of my head hitting the floor, was my ball sailing directly towards the basket.

A perfect shot, like always.

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You know that weird feeling, when you know you were asleep for a while and you can feel yourself slowly wake up?

It starts at your feet, or your hands – it's different for different people.

For me, it always starts at the feet, right at the tips of my toes. From there it crept up the soles of my feet to my heels, and then up my calves and shins to my knees, my thighs and then up the rest of my body, spreading out to my arms and hands, and finally ending at my head, when my consciousness would flutter awake and my eyes would open.

It was like that every day of my life.

Except today. Today, my eyes opened, but I still saw black. Pitch black.

As I started to panic and my breathing came in rapid inhalations, I could hear the heart monitor chime in quick succession, as to match me beep for breath. I could hear the sudden alert to the nurse to come check on bed two-five-one. I could hear my mother's voice, telling me to be calm while the doctor arrives and I could hear him tell the nurse to hold me down to try and keep my arms from thrashing around to try and find some sort of reason why it was suddenly so dark.

I could smell the familiar smell of a hospital; antiseptic and plastic. Soap and disposable latex gloves.

I could taste the horrible taste of bile in my mouth. As I cried out in fear and anger at unknown hands on my arms, I wondered how long it had been since I brushed my teeth and when in that time I had thrown up.

I could feel the uncomfortable scratchiness of a hospital gown; those ones that they tell you to strip down naked and put on, when you know very well that you would be more comfortable for a stay in the hospital in your own God damn clothes. It probably had an opened back, just to add to the humiliation and discomfort.

But I couldn't see.

My mother's voice told me to keep calm, she would explain everything. The doctor's voice commanded the nurse and my father – who was apparently in the room as well, I could tell from his deeper grunts as I flailed my arms around – to try and keep me under control.

But I couldn't see.

My arms were finally pinned to my sides, and I snarled in frustration, fear, pain and anger. I hated being manhandled like that, and I didn't even know what was going on. I could hear, I could taste, I could smell and touch.

But I couldn't see.

As I felt the sharp prick of a needle jab itself into my thigh, and the sudden feeling of wooziness and lethargy seemed to crawl and slither into my mind, I collapsed back onto the bed.

The last thing that flitted through my mind as my body shut down was that, while I hoped to God it wasn't true… I wouldn't ever be able to see again.

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End of Prologue

A/N: Woo! Depressing. Don't worry, it won't be forever. :D

Again, a bit short, I know. But this is a prologue, and the main chapter will be my usual 2.5-4k work length. Most likely. Unless I get cheeky and decide to do longer. Eh.

Hope you all get hooked!

Please comment/follow/favorite!

***Will work for glomps***