Fingers trembled, anger and despair swelled in his chest, clenching his heart painfully. He failed once again, his team frantically searching high and low for him, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He wanted to shout, scream as the heart wrenching pain shook his body, but he couldn't bring himself to speak, the words caught in his throat. He didn't deserve to say anything, didn't deserve to be captain.

Why did coach make him captain?

To this day, he doesn't know, doesn't understand, why he accepted the role. It's true he wanted to prove he could bring them to victory. Wanted to prove he wasn't a failure to his team. Oh how he wanted to make up for his mistake the previous year, letting down all the seniors on his team. He didn't want to see the devastation on their faces any more, the sight too painful to tolerate.

Still, the match flashed beneath closed eyelids. Tears fell fast, liquid hit the floor in soft splashes, a mockery of his facade. He was sickened by his own weakness. After all, he did just tell them to be proud and walk out with their heads held high. They did have pride and they weren't going to let one match destroy them. Instead, he blamed himself. Watching Kise try to stand after the match, tears of frustration falling at his failed attempt to secure victory. Of wanting to beat Aomine that badly. He even went as far as copying his entire style.

But at what price?

How low was he to depend on his kouhai, a member of the prodigies from Teiko, to win this game? It's true he wanted to win just as much as him, even saying he'd do everything he could to achieve victory. But he didn't try to stop him, instead, he nodded his head and allowed him to be reckless. He pushed himself to his limits only to be unable to stand, relying on his senpai to help pick him up. He couldn't keep right on his own, and yet despite doing so, he still looked up to him, relied on him. Not just as a captain,

But also as a friend.

How could he look him in the eyes after seeing him so broken?

He didn't know what hurt more; the immense faith Kise had in him or watching him cry when he realized, despite almost throwing away his future career, they lost.

He couldn't keep relying on their ace, the one guy he despised in the beginning, to carry their team. He needed to get stronger, so they could take the cup together. He was the captain! He had to be the strong one, if he wanted the team to win. They had to get their revenge against Seirin for the practice match. There wasn't time to waste moping about their unfortunate loss.

Yet, he still couldn't move.

Everything felt numb, pain shot through his fingers after slamming them so much. His legs tingled and shook, refusing to listen to his mind, as he practically begged them to move. Nothing wanted to listen, as though it chose to remain still, frozen in time.

He was so lost in his thoughts, the sound of footsteps didn't register until he saw a pair of yellow eyes staring at him through blurred vision.

"Senpai..."

Steel-blue eyes blinked, attempting to clear the haziness from his mind. The brightness radiating from Kise's form was blinding, but he wanted to see, wanted to know, how his kouhai was feeling. When he finally realized Kise was very much real and not a figment of his imagination, only then did he feel his soaked clothing. Had it been raining the entire time? He didn't know nor could he find himself caring. His eyes stared at the tall blond, still trying to fully comprehend his overwhelming presence.

When he saw Kise's face scrunch in pain, he tried to open his mouth in an attempt to say something, anything, but the pressure of another being caused his mouth to close. Warm breaths brushed his neck, sending shivers down his spine as he looked from the corner of his eyes. The pain in his chest only tightened more when he saw fresh tears hitting his exposed neck, Kise's body shaking as he cried into his shoulder. He was saying something but his hearing was dulled by the sound of the buzzer blaring. The sound echoing loud and shrill, a constant reminder of their failure.

Kise squeezed his shoulder, keeping his head lowered, unable to look his captain in the eyes. It was because he was weak, wasn't strong enough, that caused their loss. He didn't stop Aomine and he'd made one huge mistake that sealed their loss. But because he knew Aomine didn't pass to teammates, he thought he'd have the advantage. He wanted to show him that everyone on the team was important, winning alone wasn't fun or rewarding.

But he lost.

And now, he should've been happy to find his senpai after searching high and low for him, but he only felt pain stabbing his heart at his broken state. This wasn't the person who picked him up a few hours prior. No, this was the sight of a broken boy who failed his team more than once. He thought he could help his captain with his goal, thought he was strong enough to be of use to him. But seeing him so lost and unresponsive made Kise panic. What could he do, or say, to get his captain back to normal?

Clenching his shoulders tightly, he gasped, the pain in his chest unbearable, before yanking his captain into his arms. Kise had never once considered hugging another male, but it was the only thing he could think to do. He needed to somehow make his captain feel again, and if he had to embarrass himself, then so be it.

The older male blinked, heat slowly rushing to his cheeks when he felt strong, warm arms embrace him. It was as though he was starting to warm up, the muscles in his body screaming in pain, hungrily absorbing the contact. This was only confusing the boy more, unsure of how to assess the situation. But when he finally came around completely, he heard the broken voice whisper in his ear,

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry senpai."

And it was as though the dam broke, and he buried his face in the blond's neck, grasping his jacket between trembling fingers. He felt so ashamed, so embarrassed, to be caught in such a broken and defeated state. But when he realized Kise was just as broken, just as embarrassed as himself, he found it was a bit easier to deal with the situation.

He didn't deserve to be called captain or senpai. But he would greedily accept it from his kouhai's lips. If he was apologizing for his actions, when things went back to normal, he would kick him. But right now, he just slumped into the younger boy's heat, a reminder he wasn't a failure and it wasn't entirely his fault.

Both boys sat there, the rain pelting their broken forms, as they cried into each other, leaning on the other for support. They didn't care if anyone walked by and saw them. For right now, all they needed was the other's warmth, the reassurance that things would be fine.

And for now, that was enough for them.