Done in school. May be crappy. Idea invented during talks with AkatsukiRedCloud. Read her stories, they're awesome. Cx
Review if you like or you didn't.
KnB isn't mine.
"Because we..." Kagami panted out, sprinting to Rakuzan's hoop. He was already exhausted to his limit, yet he couldn't just stop now. Not when others rely on him that much. They were going to win this; they had to. Not in the future, not next year, not today. Now. "...will win!"
The buzzer went out: the match was over. The atmosphere among people on tribunes was unbelievably thick. No one uttered a word. Their eyes were wide, and jaws gaping.
The buzzer-beater. Kagami Taiga, ace of the Seirin basketball club, in the last seconds of the play broke through Nebuya's defence and miraculously avoided Hayama's steal. He jumped over the redhead. With a powerful, desperate dunk the battle finished with Seirin's one point advantage. The emperor of creation has fallen.
Suddenly loud ovations filled ears of astonished players whose voices soon joined the choir. But some of them were quiet. The kings have yet to realise their failure. As they gave each other helpless and confused looks, no one dared to glance at him. It wouldn't be right. It's even forbidden. The higher you were before falling down, the less one has to comfort you. Not an emperor. His defeat is his death. Those who win are granted everything and those who lose are denied it. That's all there is to it.
He stared at the rope hanging in front of his eyes. The room he was in was dark. The windows were covered with murky, heavy curtains, the only source of light was his cell phone, it was muted, so only the glow and sound of vibrations could say that it was ringing. 'Father' was the one who was calling. The figure that stayed on the bedsheets on its bare feet only glanced at it. And looked away, feeling even more stressed. He was nervous. His heart was pounding yet he felt such a pressure on it as if a truck had been placed on his chest.
The air was thick, cold, but also stale. Neither the door nor the windows have been opened in a long time.
The floor in the teenager's room was filled with clothes. The wardrobe was emptied and the various materials were now scattered around as the result of raging in hopelessness and bitterness boy. The desk was severely damaged, all the glass things were shattered and turned into sharp and dangerous, but sparkling magnificently in the weak light, flakes.
Someone knocked on the door silently.
"Seijuurou!" A voice called out, knocking suddenly turning to banging. "Open the door this instant!"
The boy could easily tell how furious his father was. He never loses his cool, but he did now. Akashi Seijuurou has lost. No. He was no longer an Akashi. He lost nonetheless and now had to face the consequences of that. Or maybe, he thought, maybe it's just a way of escape from them? No... It has to be that way.
"Seijuurou, open this damn door! Please!"
At least fifteen minutes have passed since the man got to the door. His patience was over. If he couldn't talk to his son face to face, he'll just do it through the door. He inhaled and began in much softer tone.
"Seijuurou, I know you have lost that game. That was really unfortunate..." The man rested his head on the wooden surface. "Remember, I will always be by your side, son, no matter what happens. I love you."
He left reluctantly, intending to give the boy some more time. He couldn't hear a weak gasp coming from his son's mouth, whose eyes were filled with fear and tears, as a deadly pressure was crushing his throat.
The sun was shining brightly, giving some warmth to a small group of people gathered over and looking at one particular place. Cold, sharp wind was slowly destroying various bouquets of white flowers. From time to time another and another petal flew away into the almost clear, deeply blue sky.
"Kagami-kun, I... I really just wanted to help him, like the others..." Kuroko Tetsuya quietly said, looking at the gravestone few meters away. The tall redhead by his side simply nodded, saying that he knows and it wasn't tealhead's fault. "I'm not saying we should have lost, but maybe I should've paid him more attention..."
Kagami smacked his head and stayed silent, closing his eyes. Kuroko slightly lowered his eyelids in thoughts. Maybe he had that side of himself that sought justice or just wanted to throw the responsibility on someone else. It might be just human nature to do it.
Who raised his friend? Who made him that way? Who forced him into being perfect at everything? Who had to be the main reason?!
The boy turned his head towards a red-haired man in his mid-thirties. He expected... Actually, he didn't know what he had thought he'd see. For those who can't see more, he was distant. Almost untouched by his son's death. His stare icy cold like never before.
Yet Kuroko was one of those who see further, better.
The head of Akashi's family has already learnt about his mistakes.
"Hey there, Kurokocchi, Kagamicchi." The voice of Kise Ryouta cut the silence, even if it itself was unnaturally, for the joyful blond, quiet and serious. Right behind him were following three teenagers, one wearing glasses, other suffering from gigantism, and the last surprisingly tanned as for a Japanese.
They acknowledged each other and stood silently, but it wasn't an awkward silence, rather one full of understanding and compassion.
Few minutes later Kise asked.
"Why don't we make a new oath?" He grinned, just to yelp as he saw Aomine's unamused face and his deeper than usual frown.
"It's not time for jokes, idiot."
"I think Kise-kun's idea is rather good, though, Aomine-kun," said Tetsuya.
"Eh?" The other teen scrunched his face up in confusion. "What do you mean, Tetsu?"
The tealhead put a finger to his cheek, thinking. After several seconds he answered.
"He was the Generation's of Miracles captain. I think we could play for him. For us, for fun of course, too. But we could do our best to not make him be forgotten."
The wind blew again.
"Kurokocchi..."
"Kuroko... Are you sure you want to keep playing for remembrance of a person that caused you so much pain?" Kagami's eyebrow rose up, only to be met with sharp glances from the group.
Midorima adjusted his glasses.
"It was just the way he was."
"Uh-huuuh... But Aka-chin could be very nice, too."
"Yes, Kagami-kun. Akashi-kun's important friend of ours."
"I-I understand now...! Jeez," he grumbled, pouting and looked away, folding his arms.
"Kagami-kun, please, behave." Kuroko stared at him with those blue, hollow eyes. Then he turned to the other teenagers, holding up his fist to a bump. "Let's promise to play basketball and never make the same mistakes again," he said.
Five fists bumped lightly against each other.
"Yeah," was what they said.
Another gust of wind ruffled their hair. It pulled out the next army of white petals which twirled and caressed the crowd's clothes, tangled in their strands, tickled their skins. Eventually a shadow laid down on the world, the sun being covered by a dark cloud for the first time today. Little cloudlets were still scattered on the horizon. Somewhere bird's song could be heard.
The sky was covered in blood and layers of dark purple and navy, feathery clouds. The wind's blows were sharper and more freezing than earlier, the general lack of sunlight caused crystals of frost to appear on the cold surface of funeral flowers. The cemetery was empty, empty except the one person, whose footsteps were quiet as they crushed the frozen grass beneath. The figure stopped at the certain headstone of a young Akashi. And then fell to their knees, the overwhelming disappointment flooding their mind, bottomless sadness filling their eyes with salty tears when the realisation struck them straight in the face.
"I promised you I would come back."
Their chin twitched and they gritted their teeth. A pale hand caressed the stone and the name written on it.
"And you promised that you'd be waiting for me...!" The person's fingers curled tightly, fists threatening to hit the monument.
"So why the fuck you didn't?!"
Miserable grimace on his face squeezed out burning droplets from his tired, steel eyes. The first snowflakes of this month silently landed on his raven black hair. The boy stared at the gravestone as if he was waiting for an answer. But none came.
"You've forgotten about me."