Shatterproof
Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke does not belong to me, and I am in no way associated with the franchise. I don't own any of the characters, settings, etc.
A/N: So...I kinda went all over the place with this chapter. It veered off topic more than I would've liked, but...oh well. This chapter's a bit lengthy, but bear with me. As per usual, thank you to all of the people who favorited/followed/reviewed! And much thanks to Made2352 and Cloudie-Skye!
Chapter 3: Photogenic
I would never admit it, but there was something about Kise-kun that made me look forward to seeing him every day. Sometimes you only recognize your most cherished treasures once they're gone. Who could've guessed...
Petrichor. It's the scent of the sidewalk after it rains.
If that's the case, then I suppose that the Tokyo sky will be dense with petrichor today.
I carefully place one foot in front of the other, narrowly avoiding the rivulets of water dribbling down the sidewalk. The gradual darkening of the sidewalk indicates the duration of time I've been walking: not too long, it seems. It'll be a few minutes still before I run the risk of catching a cold.
I casually readjust the clear plastic umbrella that rests on my shoulder. I can already see crystalline tracks making a webbed pattern on its surface. That is, until I periodically swing it down to shield from the waves caused by cars. It's possible that the drivers just don't notice me...
Chill, clear water parts beneath the rubber soles of my boots, splashing lightly. My rhythmic tread remains steady as I excuse myself for the frantic people haphazardly rushing to shelter. Holding bags, their arms, and all other manners of things over their heads, they quickly walk.
I notice a duo, a brother and sister, both of about 6 years old. Holding hands, they worriedly try to navigate through the strangers. Kneeling down to their height level, I attempt to smile kindly. Then, I make an inquiry of their concerns.
"Onii-san...we're a little lost. We just want somewhere dry to stay."
Pondering this for a bit, I point out the nearby grocery store and give them simple directions. Suddenly making a revelation, I offer them my clear umbrella, despite it requiring their combined strength to keep upright.
Wide-eyed and cautious, they ask, "Are you sure, Onii-san?"
I simply nod. Elated, the children run off to their newfound destination. I feel a sort of satisfaction in my heart being able to help such polite children. They're so carefree, so easy to please...they almost remind me of someone.
The rain is pelting down heavier than before, assaulting the crown of my head with icy drops. My hair becomes more heavy and limp by the second, stray beads of water trickling down my prone face. Dark clothes stubbornly cling to my wet frame, their dampness outlining my scrawny features even more. Refraining a shiver, I take care to increase my pace marginally, to escape this horrid weather. It won't be too much longer now.
...This is almost like old times, when Kise-kun and I would walk to school in the rain together. I would bring an umbrella, of course...and one time, the airheaded Kise-kun forgot his. With a rather apologetic glance and a few insistent pleas, he stubbornly advocated to be under the same umbrella as me. I shook my head, administering a deadpan refusal. But when the time began to pass, and seconds turned to minutes, I eventually gave in to Kise-kun's rather admirable willpower. I suppose his pitiful eyes and drooping posture didn't hurt, either.
We tried our best to compact ourselves under it, the obvious height difference glaring even more than usual. He settled for his typical incessant chattering at first, as I listened to the rhythmic pattern of raindrops as a distraction. But my companion soon got bored. And when Kise-kun got bored, his clinging would begin...and when that started, push would easily give way to shove. And when shove resulted in both of us tumbling down onto the sodden ground, I realized that bringing an umbrella was counterproductive.
Because when with Kise-kun, of course good intentions turn into attending Teiko with soiled uniforms and disheveled hair. Kise-kun was an enigma by the way that he got us into trouble without trying, attracted quite a few odd stares without trying...and made my day rather interesting without trying. But to say the least, I was very thankful for my lack of presence that day.
After finally reaching my destination, I refrain from breathing a sigh of relief. The stout, compact building exudes homeliness, further proved by the warm light spilling from the display windows. I firmly place my grip on the handle, and gently pull the door open.
My eyes meet a sea of tiered wooden bookshelves, each holding a variety of texts: novels, magazines, textbooks, kits, and many more. The carpeted floor displays a modest, striped design that's been worn by years of footsteps.
I remember a time when, on my weekly bookstore runs, Kise-kun would insist on "tagging along with me," as he so put it. Really, it'd just be a two hour excursion of Kise-kun wreaking havoc in the unfortunate store. I suppose he was like a energetic pet that storeowners disapprove of but masters bring in anyways...
I'd always been comfortable with quietly reading in the corner, taking care not to disturb the passerby. The part of my brain that reassured it would stay this way-even with the variable of Kise Ryouta-was woefully disproven.
I'd left him in the manga section, flatly telling Kise-kun that here, there was even reading material on his level. Ignoring his whines, I'd retreated to one of the more solitary corners of the bookstore.
The next thing I knew, he was roaming the store, looking for me. Calling my name with great fervor, he followed up with a declaration of his boredom. Immediately finding him and seizing his arm, I scolded him for being so loud. Looking solemn, he nodded once-and retreated back to where he had come from.
Shrugging off his abnormal behavior, I continued to read my novel-until I was interrupted by my phone buzzing.
I had received a text.
From: Kise-kun
To: Me
Subject: Hi!
Kurokocchi~! How are you~? \(^o^)/
I snapped my phone shut, trying hard not to sigh. Kise-kun couldn't last very long without communication, could he?
Marching to the manga section once more, I hid my mortification that Kise-kun was eating snacks. In a bookstore. Although Murasakibara-kun might be at fault here...
Nevertheless, I decided this was the last straw, and sternly commanded him that we leave. Kise happily jumped up, and I couldn't help but wonder if that had been his true intention all along. Kise-kun blissfully ignored the glares of the customers, and needless to say, we were both banned for three months.
"Kuroko-san! Welcome!"
Snapping out of my trance, I sense a presence at my back, and turn.
An elderly man wearing a button-up plaid shirt with pinned on nametag approaches me. Waving gaily to me, I nod to acknowledge his overenthusiastic greeting. I suppose it's only natural that the manager has begun to notice me-every month, on the fifth day, there's only one item that I'm looking for...
"Looking for the new arrivals?"
Another nod from me.
"You're just in time," he exclaims. "They're over in the corner; you know the spot."
I murmur a few words of gratitude to him and continue on.
Distracted by another customer, he rushes to the front again-but not before taking notice of the streams of water dancing down the windows. He calls to me from behind.
"Ugh! It's raining, Kuroko-san. I've always hated the rain...it's like the clouds are weeping."
I nearly chuckle in spite of myself.
I've always despised the rain as well...but for a different reason. The sun simply reminds me of a friend of mine.
Focusing at the task on hand, I locate the new arrivals and go straight to the magazines. Rifling through their colorful, waxy surfaces, I carefully examine the pictures and words on each of the covers. I flip from one to the other, systematically sorting through the stack. Until finally..
"On Page 24: Exclusive Photoshoot with Kise Ryouta!"
I quickly find the aforementioned page, and with an almost eager sense of anticipation, I look at it. Taking care to observe every detail, I stare.
And my heart falls.
It is not the one.
Masking my subtle disappointment, I stalk to the checkout counter. After exchanging random pleasantries with the manager, I purchase the magazine.
Sparing a glance outside, I cautiously tuck the magazine inside my sweater before leaving.
It wouldn't do for Kise-kun to get wet.
Back at my house, I remove my shoes at the doorway. Quietly reassuring my grandmother that I've returned, I patiently trot up the stairs. My house isn't anything special, really. It's a Western style, most of it. The floors are wooden, and the walls separate the rooms into cubicles, so there are minimal doors. My grandmother decorates with little furniture-too much would just add up to clutter, she always says.
The surface of walls are painted in calming pastels, and the ceiling in particular is a gentle cyan blue. My grandmother tells me that this is the work of my parents, who wanted their child to grow up always reaching for the sky. I smile sadly at these sentiments now...
Chiding myself for remembering such things at such a random time, I arrive at the door to my room. When I peer inside, the most notable feature is a basketball poster, featuring the match that I'd seen on the television that day in fifth grade. Otherwise, my room looks similar to the rest of my house-compact and organized, geared more towards comfort than style. My grandmother and I are simple people, after all. I enter the threshold, feeling a bit colder than usual for some reason.
Gently plopping on my bed, I lay down, my pale hair scattering across the inviting pillow. Then, I ponder. This whole day, I've been distracted with extra thoughts of Kise-kun...how unhealthy. Oh well. Dismissing it, I begin my usual routine.
Dropping to the floor, I lift up the cotton bedspread and wriggle underneath the bedframe, my hand grasping for my familiar, leather-bound companion. Squinting through the darkness, my fingertips graze the surface. Clamping down on the cover, I slowly ease it from underneath the bed. Sitting up and brushing off the surface, I abruptly sneeze. Hmm. It must be the dust.
I hold it in front of me, in a sort of sentimental daze.
It's my photo album. And it's full of pictures of the Generation of Miracles.
Reminding myself to focus, I flip to near the very back, and prepare to add the latest entry: the picture of Kise-kun from the magazine I bought. After cautiously tearing the page out, I use scissors to clip the picture down to size. Sliding it in, I take another glance at it.
There it is again. The feeling that something crucial has been lost, and may never return again.
Wanting a reminder of happier days, I pick an earlier page at random and flip back.
My grip on the page lingers as I'm lost in thought. This particular picture was taken during one of our routine study sessions at Akashi-kun's house. My features soften as I recall the day...
Well accepted by common knowledge, the geniuses Akashi-kun and Midorima-kun are never troubled by exams. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the rest of the Miracles. Therefore, when the English proficiency exam came around that year, the two prodigies took matters into their own hands. They would make sure the rest of Miracles would pass, so that they could continue to participate in the Inter-High.
The most worrisome members for this particular topic were myself and Kise-kun.
With the authority befitting of a captain and vice-captain, they arranged a mandatory study session for us at Akashi-kun's house. The cost of not attending: a tripled training menu for the remainder of the summer. Needless to say, Kise-kun and I were prompt and present.
It was a shame that we were some truly some of the most pitiful English students of our generation.
Gathered around the table, Akashi-kun realized this sorry fact immediately. Amidst the flurry of textbooks, handouts, and writing utensils, an intense session of reading, writing, and drilling commenced. Akashi-kun and Midorima-kun's expert tutelage was even more strict than usual, to compensate for their less-than-bright pupils.
Despite this...little to no information was retained.
I genuinely did try, I remember for a fact.
Kise-kun...was less than enthusiastic, and spent a majority of the time attempting to explore "Akashicchi's" expansive, traditional Japanese house. When he finally was restrained enough to sit, he passed the time by writing lavish messages on paper airplanes, and flying them to me from across the room. He winked at me, thinking he was sly enough to escape our tutors' watchful eyes.
Midorima-kun made a point to catch and crumple each one before it reached its destination, before pausing to shoot it in the wastebasket.
Though momentarily discouraged, Kise-kun's eyes never lost that mischievous glint-that abundant, carefree glee.
This is...
Looking back at the photo now, I observe Kise-kun's eyes, so bright and full of life.
Something tugs at my heartstrings, but I can't quite identify it.
Then I sniffle. A sniffle? Did I catch a cold while walking outside?
Ignoring it, I move on to another picture.
Brushing my fingers over the page, I faintly smile in remembrance.
The picture had been taken last year, during the Winter Cup. We'd been undergoing a labor-intensive training camp, during one of the most frigid days of the season.
Akashi-kun, naturally, chose that time to take us to the mountains.
We'd been doing a morning warm up on the rocky terrain, and were paired up for a sprinting exercise. My overjoyed companion was Kise-kun. He gave me a crushing embrace, to which I had responded by warning him to conserve his strength. Knowing Akashi-kun, the earlier in the morning the exercise, he more physically demanding it would be.
The activity ended up becoming a simple pairs running workout. The latter person was only necessary in order to keep the former in line. The route was fairly mundane, as well-a clean spiral to and from the summit.
...Or so it seemed.
Firstly, Akashi-kun had set up five intersections on the map. Each intersection forked into two paths-one led the desired way, further up the spiral; the other went the opposite direction, further down the mountain. When arriving at an intersection, one partner would choose one path to run. The fortunate partner that ran towards the summit would wait at the next intersection for their partner. The unlucky partner that had gone down would be forced to run back the way they came, and run up the correct path. The last team to make it to the top would have doubled menus for the rest of the day.
It was an exhausting game of luck.
Kise-kun sweatdropped upon hearing the rules.
I was blessed enough to always choose the correct path, and patiently sat and waited for Kise-kun to catch up.
When he did come, panting, dripping, and very, very tired...he still always greeted me with a cheerful smile. Despite his extreme workout, his grin never dimmed.
He'd mumble a half-hearted complaint at his luck, and then promptly encourage us to continue.
We were the last team to make it to the peak, but he high-fived me all the same.
Gazing at the picture, I have a sudden epiphany.
There it is. Yes.
What I've been looking for.
A painful constriction afflicts my chest, as I look at, truly look at, Kise-kun's eyes.
The luminescence that was nurtured there was one of the greatest sights I'd ever seen. I thought they'd stay that brilliant forever.
Then when, and why, did they change to...this?
I observe the newest entry a final time and solemnly bow my head. Kise-kun is dressed up in fashionable clothes, against an appealing background, with a convincing expression on his face.
But his eyes...are empty. His happiness...is artificial.
This whole time, the missing component...was the one marvel that I thought I'd be granted with forever.
I put the album to the side, because my eyes feel wet, and are brimming with moisture. I sneeze again, wiping my running nose into a tissue at my bedside.
What a strange cold to come with allergic symptoms as well...
I took that joy for granted. Every day, without fail, no matter what: Kise would beam at me with those overbearing eyes, conveying friendship and affection and who knows what else.
I would never admit it, but...that admiration filled gaze made me look forward to attending class each day. It refilled me with vigor, and energy, because who honestly couldn't soften at such a thing?
Sometimes, it melted even my glacier filled stare.
Blowing my snotty nose once more, I roughly dry my eyes.
It's okay, Kise-kun. I'll sit with you for as long as you need, like that study session so many months ago. Even if our communication is severed.
And I'll patiently wait for my golden haired teammate who may have veered onto an incorrect path, like that training camp from what seems like a decade ago. We'll meet at the next intersection, I know we will. When I finally see the true you again, I'm certain you'll greet me with a triumphant smile, no matter how much hard work we'd have both undergone to get there.
Because you're worth it.
So, for now, I will continue to look at your magazines, and observe carefully. I'll buy a million if that's what it takes for you to see me again. Because when you're ready, I want to be prepared.
I will earn the right to embrace your true gaze.
A/N- Next is the immaculate, yet peculiar, Midorima!