Oh, well, sorry for posting this so late, but I started school and... it is kind of hard to find free time until all of my tests pass. I am happy that you liked the previous story and I hope you will enjoy this one as well.

Here comes the first chapter!

Chapter one: Broken

Takao crossed his arms in front of his chest and tried not to flinch. He leaned against the wall behind him and sighed with relieve. His leg was too sore from supporting his weight the whole day and his arm was still aching in the shoulder. Takao refused to think about the bruise there. Curently, he was too busy observing the scene in front of his eyes.

Takao was getting annoyed. And he was not the kind of person who would be irritated easily. Usually, he would brush everything off with a smile and wouldn't dwell on anything. After all, thinking was something he tried to do only in a game. It was a waste of energy and time to do it outside the court. Besides, he would quickly realize that the world was not a nice place once he opened his eyes to the reality.

There was darkness luring in every corner, waiting to consume him.

However, that day was a special one.

It was happening for the third time that month, he thought as he watched how Midorima listened carefully to whatever that ugly in Takao's opinion girl had to say. Not that he needed to switch to the genius mode in order to figure out what was going on. She was confessing her undying love when she didn't even know Midorima at all.

She didn't know why the green haired boy bandaged his fingers. Or why he carried around a different item every day. Or how long it took the Shutoku's shooting guard in the morning to listen to his precious Oha-Asa.

The girl bowed her head and Takao knew that now Midorima was going to decline as politely as possible, saying that he wanted to focus on his basketball career. It was not like Midorima cared much about girls anyway.

Takao flinched when he realized that this time Midorima was taking longer than usual to finish this off. For a moment his friend shifted his gaze and their eyes met for a fraction of the second. Something went between them. Something that sent shivers down Takao's spine. Unpleasurable shivers.

Then Midorima turned his attention back to the girl and said something. Whatever the green haired boy muttered, it made the girl look up with sparkling eyes. Takao's stomach sunk at the sight. Something inside of him snapped and he found himself trying to hold back a sharp intake of breath.

Midorima and the girl exchanged a few more words and in a few seconds the shooting guard was right next to Takao.

"Let's go, we are going to be late for practice," the shorter boy said quietly, his usual cheerfulness was gone. He didn't say anything about the girl; he didn't even look Midorima in the eye. Instead, Takao opted for walking a few steps in front of his friend without looking back.

Midorima on the other hand, was watching his team mate's back, trying to figure out what had caused the sudden mood change. Not that Takao was acting normal recently. The boy was more quiet than usual; he wasn't even talking to Midorima. During practice, Takao would do his share of training, and then play some one on one with either the green haired boy or someone else until he was so exhausted that it was hard to move. After that, he would walk home without bothering to ask Midorima to accompany him.

What is going on, Takao?

He wanted to ask but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. All he could do was watch his friend's back until Takao was so far away, he couldn't even reach out to grab him.


"Oi, Takao!" The coach shouted as the dark haired boy slipped and fell down face first. The impact was so strong it took out all of the oxygen in Takao's lungs. The boy rolled to the side, holding his throbbing elbow." Are you okay?"

The point guard closed his eyes, fighting off the blurry vision. Seriously... he was not going to black out from this. What was he? A pussy?

Takao groaned again, feeling his whole arm start to ache but nodded nonetheless. He shifted to a seating position and plastered a fake smile on his face. Scratching awkwardly the back of his head, the boy turned to his trainer.

"Yeah, yeah, I am fine!" he hoped his voice wasn't giving away just how hard it was to keep a sob from breaking out. God, why was he such a mess recently? Sure, his life hadn't been perfect in the last few weeks, but getting this upset was really unlike him. "I just tripped. Everything's fine!"

No, nothing was fine.

Miyaji wiped off the sweat from his forehead and passed the ball to Otsubo. Then he reached out to offer help to Takao, who smiled widely and accepted it. The small forward frowned when he felt just how weak the grip Takao had on his hand was. Not to mention that when he tried to pull the point guard up on his feet, it seemed as if Takao had lost weight. Alarming bells rang through his mind.

"You sure you are fine?" the blond asked as he steadied his team mate all the while he was observing Takao his knees really shaking or his imagination was playing tricks on him? "You look a little pale?"

Midorima noticed that Miyaji was right. Takao's complexion was far from the healthy one the boy usually had. Actually, the green haired boy felt a little bit uneasy. He was supposed to notice such things, right? Takao was his team mate. The person who was his partner on court. And yet he hadn't noticed how pale the boy looked.

The point guard let go of his blond friend and stepped carefully back. He lifted his hands in defence.

"I am fine!" He sang, happy that his voice didn't waver. "Stop worrying about me." Oh, how he hoped that everyone were convinced because he was sure his facade wouldn't last long if he kept on faking those smiles that hurt.

"Let's call it a day, boys!" the coach instructed, narrowing at the sight of Takao losing balance for a moment. "Takao, you stay behind."

All of the players hurried to gather their stuffs and leave as soon of possible. Miyaji turned to Otsubo, asking him something about his plans for the weekend that was coming. A few of the second string members went to collect the balls and the rest of them headed for the changing rooms. Only Takao and Midorima stayed behind. The two of them shared a look but the point guard was the first to break the contact. He felt as if Midorima was staring into his very soul. And the feeling was something he didn't take liking into.

"I guess we won't be going home together, Shin-chan..." said the dark haired boy but his voice wavered a little. Thanks goodness Midorima was too much of an idiot to notice.

The green haired boy nodded.

No, don't go, Shin-chan…

"Then I will see you tomorrow," and with that he left not even realizing that Takao was staring at his back with sad eyes. Lately, their communication had shrunk down to just the necessary words. Takao knew the exact moment his friend had started acting weirder than usual. Ever since he came back from America. He wondered what had happened back there. He brushed that matter to the side. He had other things on his mind he was barely handling.

With a sigh, the point guard turned to his coach and plastered a happy smile on his face. He had to keep up this performance for another few minutes. However, his expression froze when he saw the look on coach Masaki's face.

"Takao, do you mind telling me what is going on with you lately? And don't think of lying to me."

Oh, crap.


Midorima checked his phone and suppressed the urge to just shut it and throw it aside. He was not in the mood to deal with her right now. He did not want to go out with that girl at all but he had to do it in order to prove that Aomine's words were just stupid babbling. Going out and sleeping with a boy was the most disgusting thing on Midorima's mind. Although both Kise and Aomine had made sure to let him know that it was the best thing in the whole world. Not that Midorim had wanted to know this. God, he wished he could erase all of the things Aomine had told him. How could that dark skinned idiot even think that there was something going on between Midorima and Takao? His team mate was clearly a boy and neither Midorima nor Takao swung that way.

For fuck's sake, they had been barely speaking to each other in the last few months. And the situation had worsened lately. Takao was clearly avoiding his best friend for some reason.

His phone pulled him out of his thoughts. It was as another e-mail from Kana, the girl who had confessed to him earlier.

Okay, so that means we will meet this Sunday? Oh my god, I am so happy, Shintarou-kun! I can't wait.

Midorima frowned and quickly typed his response.

Stop calling me Shintarou. It's Midorima.

It was irritating him when someone called him by his given name. Only his family members, Takao and Akashi were allowed to do so.

The green haired boy pushed aside his books. He was long done with his homework which left him with nothing to do with his evening. Midorima fell on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was 7:36 p.m. and he was already bored as hell. He wasn't sleepy at all and he wasn't in the mood for playing computer games. Maybe going out for a walk was a good idea? The boy turned his head to the side and his eyes fell on an object he hadn't touched ever since the finals in his last year in Middle school. It was a basketball that all of them, the generation of miracles had signed personally. Even Kuroko had added his signature despite leaving the club and disappearing on them.

Then his attention was caught by a photograph of his new team that was placed on his desk, where Takao had put it after framing it.

"You are a part of that team, Shin-chan, thus you must have our photo in your room!" That was ridiculous. He didn't need a reminder that he was a part of Shutoku's team. Takao was annoying enough not to let him forget this.

Midorima bolted up and took his phone, dialling his friend's number.

This number is not available in the moment.


Takao cursed under his breath and hurried up the stairs, trying to switch on his phone frantically. However, his efforts were useless. The battery was dead. His whole body was trembling because of the pain and tiredness.

"Shit, I am in trouble," he muttered and stopped in front of one of the two doors on the third floor. He listened carefully, but there was no sound coming from his apartment. It was quiet. Too quiet to mean anything good.

The boy sighed and braced himself for what was about to come.

He cracked the door open and tried to get inside as quietly as possible, not making the barest noise.

"Where have you been, Kazunari?" Takao froze and his bag fell to the ground, his trembling hands too weak to keep it in the air. He gulped and back a few inches. But he knew that there was no escape, as he watched the number of bottles placed on the table. All of them were empty and by the look on his father's face, he was the one who drank most of them.

The point guard tried to take back the control over his body, but the fear was too strong, too much for him to handle in his current state. He was a mental wreck.

"The coach wanted to have a word with me after practice, regarding the coming tournament," he tried to keep his voice even but the way it wavered was too evident.

The old man with silver hair narrowed his bloodshot eyes, not believing a word that was said.

"You are lying, you little slut," he spat and rose from his chair. Takao tried to take a few steps back, but he realized had already hit the wall. "You are the same as you mother!"

The first punch took Takao's breath away. The second one send him unconscious from the pain that ripped through his now fractured arm and his skull that hit the wall. Warm blood dripped down the floor.