FULL SUMMARY:
"maybe it's that hyuuga identifies better with kiyoshi. maybe it's the fact that hyuuga feels kiyoshi did more to get him back into basketball, helped him more - and that's certainly true, kiyoshi has done more for hyuuga than izuki ever has or will. (he ignores the little voice in his head that says, 'you gave up basketball for hyuuga, because he needed you to be at the new school' and replies to it, 'sure doesn't seem like he did.')
or maybe it's just him. izuki knows his habit of making puns certainly doesn't help; hyuuga just finds it annoying, but he can't stop himself; it's in his blood.
still, he's stupid enough to wonder when kiyoshi replaced him as the constant in hyuuga's life."
cross-posted from Ao3 under the same username. Enjoy :)
izuki watches bitterly as hyuuga laughs, head thrown back, sunlight dancing along the graceful curve of his neck.
"shut up, idiot," he says to kiyoshi, but izuki can see that he doesn't mean it. there is no angry or malicious look in his eyes like there is when he tells izuki to "shut up."
he knows it is wrong, but izuki can't help but feel jealous, angry.
he's the one that came to seirin so that hyuuga would have a familiar face with him. he could've just as easily gone to kaijo, or fukuda sougo, or kirisaki -
izuki stops himself right there with a self-deprecating chuckle.
he picks up his bag, heads to the door to leave.
as he is at the door, he turns back.
hyuuga still hasn't noticed he is leaving.
angry tears come to izuki's eyes, and he wipes them away hastily, nearly running out of the classroom.
izuki eats quietly on the rooftop. the rice balls taste bland in his mouth.
'balls taste bland, huh,' he chuckles a little to himself. 'even if it's a little dirty, that's a good one. i should refine it a little,'
his mood sours when he remembers hyuuga hasn't even realised he wasn't sitting at their usual table like always.
but then, it's only natural, isn't it?
after all, kiyoshi is a much better friend than izuki has ever been to hyuuga - much better than he ever will be to him.
he never needed me anyway.
the knowledge sinks into izuki's heart.
it's so heavy, but it's just so wonderfully freeing. his chest feels tight and light all at the same time. izuki can't decide whether he wants to laugh or cry.
he ends up choosing the latter.
silent, salty tears run down his cheeks as he forces each mouthful of the food down, forces himself not to just puke it all back up.
i'm sorry, hyuuga, he wants to say. sorry for being so useless as a friend.
maybe now it's time for izuki to pull a kuroko. time for him to just...
disappear.
