Warning: Strong language ahead, in later parts, so be forewarned.
This is angst. Non-yaoi. No romance.
No bullshit.
A lone figure on crutches watched the basketball match from the bleaches. His face was blank and expressionless, and he cheered for neither team. He stood there, watching, not moving even an inch. People glanced at him with curiosity, but he ignored them. Everything else ceased to exist; the spectators, gone. The bench players, faded away. The noise...what noise? There wasn't anyone in the hall, except the players on the court.
And him.
All that he focused on was the match. The match that he was supposed to play in.
Somebody made a dunk, and the crowd cheered, but he paid no attention. His eyes flitted to the score-board. Shohoku was leading.
By default, he should be glad, but he felt his heart sink. His gaze travelled to the ecstatic players in red, who were forming a circle around the player who made the dunk, cheering him on and congratulating him. That number ten. That gorilla person. That rookie. His replacement.
He felt his fingers clench tightly around his crutches with more pressure than needed at that sight, and at the back of his mind, he realised he was breathing heavily, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
They were winning without him. It was the last half with only two minutes to go. And they had a 10-point lead.
He was not needed.
Nobody saw the tears in his eyes, however slight. He blinked them away quickly, in anger at himself for getting worked up, in defiance at the world that dared pity him. And as the players in red scored baskets after baskets, the truth became more and more obvious.
It taunted him. Jeered at him. Brought an angry flush to his cheeks that could only be categorised as shame. He felt stupid now at the proclamations he'd made only a few weeks ago. He declared that he'd lead his team to the championships, that they need not fear losing now that they had him, junior high MVP, onboard as a member. He was full of confidence, because he truly believed in his words.
And now, they were playing without him, and they were winning. They didn't need him after all.
Number ten dunked again.
It was too much, too little, not enough but completely overwhelming, something so far away, and yet so near, he could almost taste it, almost reach out and hold it in his hands and never let go, but it was too late for they were already winning, and he felt it, felt the truth around him, saw it with his eyes, felt it in his guts, knew that it was the truth and that nothing could beat it, not even a thousand MVP titles so why bother? why bother at all? and he felt smothered suddenly, like he couldn't breathe and he knew he had to get out, he had to escape and never return, never look back no matter what because there wasn't a place for him here anymore.
He didn't belong.
He wasn't needed.
He choked on his tears as he hobbled away from the railings. He did it so quickly that he almost fell but he paid no attention.
He turned and walked away.