The finals of the Winter Cup end with a bang not a whimper. Himuro sits with Murasakibara and watches as Kagami shines on the court, bathed in the light of winners. The familiar threads of inferiority wind themselves deeper in his heart and Himuro doesn't even care, too blinded by the radiance. Beside him, Murasakibara looks just as dazzled; Himuro can't remember the last time he had reached for a snack the whole game. Maybe he hadn't eaten any at all, too full of the basketball that had taken place on the court. It was the kind of match that was worthy of being the finals. The kind of match that goes down in history, twisted into legend. Or maybe that's just the basketball maniac in Himuro saying so. Maybe it's just because he was there to watch it; but having seen it to the end, it makes him want to say, 'I was there. I saw it'.
Which is what Himuro does, later, when he finally has access to a computer and internet. Some quick calculations reassure him that it should be early in the morning for Los Angeles; Nijimura should be awake.
Himuro doesn't hesitate as he opens skype, immediately setting up a video call. It takes barely a minute for Nijimura to answer, his familiar visage already blurring in Himuro's memories from their time apart.
"So how were the finals?" Is the first thing that comes from Nijimura's mouth, excitement plain on his face. "Rakuzan vs. Seirin, right? Was it a good match?"
"It was a good match," Himuro says, not a hint of hesitation in his words. "It was a great match."
"Ah," Nijimura sighs. "I want to see it so bad!"
"I'll send over a copy then, shall I?" Himuro suggests, rooting his phone out of his pocket. "I can ask Coach who she put on recording duty."
"Really?" Nijimura grins. "Thanks a lot, Tatsuya! It's the Winter Cup finals with two of my kouhai facing each other. And one of them is Kuroko! Who knows how he's been managing on a team without five geniuses to take advantage of his passing specialty?"
"Well, for one thing, he's not a passing specialist anymore," Himuro says ruefully.
"Yeah, right, he did shots too, didn't he? In Seirin's match with you guys." Nijimura shakes his head. "He's really grown, huh."
"I can't deny that," Himuro says, "he even got a buzzer beat in the semis against Kaijou."
"That's right, he did. I want to watch all of the matches," Nijimura sighs, thumping his head down on his desk.
"I'll see what I can do," Himuro promises, already typing out a message on his phone.
"I can't wait for a tape." Nijimura raises his head, staring Himuro in the eyes. "Tell me everything."
Himuro smiles, because that is his default response to Nijimura, and then opens his mouth. "The game started with Taiga already going into the Zone, Shuu, that's how you know this is going to be unforgettable, and then he…"
On the other side of the screen, Nijimura listens with rapt attention, his eyes boring into Himuro's. They are separated by an entire ocean, over ten thousand kilometres; but in this moment, it feels like he is close enough to touch.