Glass
This is going to be a slash fic. Do NOT read if you are going to have opinions about it. Disclaimer: I do not own Slam Dunk. Thanks go to aki midori for help with characterization.
After they had explored all the suns in the universe, and all the planets of all the suns, they realized that there was no other life in the universe, and that they were alone. And they were very happy, because then they knew it was up to them to become all the things they had imagined they would find. -- Fifth of July, by Lanford Wilson
Chapter 4: Abyss
Warmth. Steam. Fog. Gliding wetness all across him. Where?
Rukawa woke slowly, as he always did; his body automatically going through the motions of bathing. He blinked beneath the bangs that were straggling into his eyes, momentarily confused as to just where he was, then relaxing as he realized that he was at home, cocooned in the warmth of the water.He felt his mind slowly awakening from its haze of sleep; remembered that it was a Saturday –
"K'so." Cursing as images of a paper-fan wielding manageress and Gor-no-Captain assaulted him, Rukawa grabbed a towel, nearly slipping in his hurry.
He was half-way to the door when he remembered that no, there was no training, but yes, he did have to wake up. Sendoh was waiting; and there was a barely noticeable smile on his face at the thought.
There would be the almost lazy greeting, then the tension that built as they shot hoops, culminating in an explosive match that lasted minutes. Decades in seconds, eternity in minutes. Then showing off, new tricks and fancy footwork, each trying to outdo the other; and that smile.
Not the habitual flash of teeth for him. Never that. Rather, the slow kindling of light in his eyes, the wakening of energy that faded when he wasn't there.
***
"Stay."
Rukawa turned around, startled at the layer of longing that seemed, to him, to lie just below the casual request. Puzzled, he gazed at Sendoh, who seemed to be completely unaffected. Did I just imagine that?
"Come on, let's go for lunch together... I'm starving!"
The ubiquitous smile was back, like a layer of plastic on cracked glass. Rukawa nearly refused, then remembered the desperation from earlier, that longing for human company.
***
Yukari giggled helplessly as she fluttered her eyelashes at them, thanking her lucky stars for sending her not one, but two gorgeous hunks today. (Normally, she would be content with even one half-way decent-looking specimen, but today... she nearly swooned in joy.)
Sendoh flashed a smile at her as he asked for the menu, sending her into further paroxysms of delight.
Rukawa rolled his eyes.
"Of course you may have the menu, sir. It is my pleasure to serve you, sir." She fluttered, then attempted to cat-walk to the counter in her quest for the menus. It looked rather like the flouncing pink flamingos in some unnamed film, not aided of course by the presence of little frills around her 'outfit' that bounced along with her strides in some parody of a counterpoint.
Someone sniggered.
***
Sendoh was chattering again. That moment where the façade had cracked was over, and Sendoh had slipped that smile on again, a mask so familiar and well-known that it was part of him now.
Rukawa frowned slightly, then stabbed at a french fry, wondering what had possessed him to agree to lunch when he still had to finish grocery shopping before going home.
***
Lingering longingly over a pizza that would be far too large for him alone, Sendoh was startled to hear Rukawa's deep voice behind him asking if there was a smaller portion of frozen yoghurt available. Brightening up immediately, he walked over in time to hear the negative reply and to see the faintest moue of discontent on Rukawa's face.
"Hey."
Looking up from the container he was holding, Rukawa 'hnned' in reply, then raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"What a coincidence huh?" Sendoh answered. "Anyway, wanna share the groceries? 50-50? I want pizza... and it isn't particularly nice warmed the second time round... so..." trailing off hopefully as he looked at Rukawa.
Raising an eyebrow in silent enquiry, Rukawa stared at the boy in front of him. Then said, completely straight-faced, "You mean you couldn't finish a giant-sized pizza after having had two bowls of noodles, one plate of rice and enough snacks to feed Sakuragi for lunch?"
"Normally I'd eat less for lunch, eat most of it and throw the rest away." Sendoh said, completely oblivious to the sarcasm in the younger boy's face. "Why? What are you having?"
Rukawa looked down at his basket. Looked at Sendoh's, the overflowing state of the older boy's making his point abundantly clear.
"Well then.. what's the problem? You can just come over and eat too!" Sendoh said gleefully.
"..."
"We could get the frozen yoghurt too! And the ice-cream! And the caramel!"
"..."
***
And the days and nights and days congealed together and flew past, and one day they found they had each others' house keys and shared the same pool of groceries and always had a spare bed ready.
And one day when Sendoh comes home late he finds Rukawa sprawled on the table, raven head buried in a pile of math problems and a cooling cup of coffee placed in the exact same position it had been in for the past days – exactly 2 inches away from his right elbow in the perfect position.
And Sendoh smiles at the sight and warms the pizza he bought before waking him.
***
it is night again, and they walk together in silence – unbroken save for the tread of their footsteps; one faster, one slower. But still they walk abreast.
That round iron ring beckons, and they play. Only now they know what the other will do even before he does so. And so neither is surprised, when again, that silver hoop remains untouched in its cold beauty when they leave.
A million different ways and methods have been tried. But someone who knows where you go and how you think is someone you cannot beat.
***
Anzai-sensei knows when he sees him play. Takato-sensei knows. But it's alright, to play with another school's player; because they are happy, in a lightening of step and look and smile.
It's not that their styles are merging and changing. No; if it had been quite so simple there would have been the token protest. Rather, it was the strengthening of their own styles, so that it became something new, something that made people remember them, remember the game that contained some spark of each player's essence.
Akagi knows it the moment he sees that certainty in Rukawa's eyes as he plays on, heedless of the tall figure standing unnoticed in the doorway. It is the certainty he sought, that this was what he wanted, that all those might-have-beens were not, would never be meant for him.
***
It isn't like they don't play with others; they do, in the random street matches and school practices that fill their lives. It's just that the feeling of dunking over Sakuragi's stunned and fuming red head is nowhere near the sheer exhilaration of doing so over Sendoh's; the knowledge that at any moment he could be just behind, ready to bat the ball away again.
There's nothing quite like their matches.
A/N: Nothing much to say really... but I'd really like it if you were to tell me how this style worked for the story. Constructive criticism always welcome.
Do drop a note, even if it's just to let me know you've been reading it:)
