オレンジ色の日

Orenji-iro no hi


ORANGE DAYS

Part Two: Sprout

"Life is a full circle, widening until it joins the circle motions of the infinite."

― Anaïs Nin


Practice was going smoothly. The unruly, rowdy first-years were finally getting it together after narrowly winning the championships that year. But if they got ahead of themselves, of course he'd beat the cockiness out of them with his fist of love. He was the captain, after all.

Folding his arms to his chest, his foot tapped the timber floor erratically. The pace quickened.

That idiot Haizaki was twenty minutes late today.

"Nijimura." The murderous tapping stopped as the assistant coach approached him.

"Here." Shuzo wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He straightened himself.

The stern man was frowning at the clipboard in his hand. "We're missing some administration forms. I'll be at the clubroom for about fifteen minutes. You'll be in charge."

"Yes, Coach."

"And I need the player statistics that Momoi compiled last week when I get back."

Shuzo agreed to the request again. As he watched Coach Sanada leave, that feeling of burdening responsibility crept back—even though he thought that by playing basketball, he could escape the obligations of real life.

Taking a sip of water, his gaze searched the gym for the first-year manager bumbling about. There was no sign of her, no trace of her presence anywhere.

The limit of his short-temper was being tested. Really, he didn't have any more energy to expend on—

"Haizaki!" he barked harshly upon noticing the boy's laziness. "Stop slacking!"

The uncaring shrug Shuzo received in response made him throw his precious water bottle at the dumb first-year's head. He was lucky it was empty. And idiots had hard heads, so he wouldn't have died from a little knock to his skull.

"Don't make me go over and hit you!" he yelled, waving his fist in the air and promising punishment.

"You already threw shit at me!"

Grinding his teeth in annoyance, he shook his right hand to warm the muscles up. The fist of wrath was going to descend upon that numbskull if he didn't haul himself up that very moment. Being extremely generous, he gave him an extra second as he watched from the other side of the gym, hawk-eyed and not missing a single movement.

One sentence from Akashi as he jogged by with Midorima and Murasakibara at his heels jolted the idiot back into practice sulkily, not even a word in retaliation.

Typical. Of course he would listen to Akashi. The kid was capable. He was the overachieving, strangely brilliant kind of 'capable'. Shuzo had no qualms with him—he had charisma, he was cool-headed most of the time and he was always coming up with amazingly useful but once again, strange ideas. Like that invisible guy he found.

And Akashi was probably the most perceptive person he'd ever met.

"Is anything the matter, Nijimura-san?" Finishing his laps around the court, Akashi approached him.

Shuzo sighed again, reaching for the extra water bottles kept on the bench behind him. He took two, handing Akashi one. "Yeah. Keep an eye on slackers, especially Haizaki. And Momoi's missing."

"I understand," was the well-mannered reply, totally unlike the obscenities that Haizaki spewed all over place. Akashi paused for a moment as he sipped his water, looking around the gym for their missing manager.

"…I saw Momoi leaving the gym to talk to a group of girls."

He felt his mouth contort in exasperation. "Is it Haizaki's groupies again?"

"I believe they are second-years."

Several names and faces came to mind at once, all of them a chore to deal with. If it were the people he thought they were, then he would rather go through middle school without ever willingly coming into contact with those girls. Or their friends. Or any member of their clique.

He considered Akashi as a way of escaping that fate, but it was a bit unfair to him. Who would be responsible for finding Momoi…and the sacrificial lamb that needed to be thrown in to that pit of female vipers…

Ah. That guy's perfect for the job.

"Aomine! Coach and I are looking for Momoi, go find her," he ordered the poor first-year mercilessly. Those two were pretty close friends and he wouldn't be too resistant, he surmised.

The swarthy boy shot Shuzo a confused look, then gestured to Akashi standing right next to him, as if to say: 'but Akashi is right next to you, why me?'

Like the remarkable captain he was, he stood firm as Aomine trudged away obediently. That was one thing done. "But we still need the player stats from last week," he muttered to himself lowly, not intending to be heard.

"I know where they are," Akashi said.

What. How does this guy…

He held back a sigh, a complicated expression on his face as if pondering the equation of the universe.

"Is there anything else, Nijimura-san?"

Glancing at the hopeless Haizaki, he faced his reliable vice-captain. "Nah. Never mind."

Akashi Seijuro would be a good as Captain, eventually.

.

.

.

Shuzo emphasized the 'eventually'. The distant vice-captain was somewhat of an enigma. Day after day, week after week, he never could figure him out. Seijuro was like a puzzle with a piece missing. If one didn't find that empty part, nothing would fit together properly.

(That frustrated him. Just a little bit.)

So, on the day of the informal tournament, he couldn't help but feel a little intrigued when he was to be introduced to a 'friend' of Seijuro's. What kind of eccentric person would it be? He wondered and puzzled and the overwhelming curiosity tore at him.

"This is Sorenji Maika. She'll be in charge of filming matches for gathering data." His voice was smothered in charm and charisma, as usual.

A rather normal girl stepped out from behind Seijuro. She was obviously tense, the nervousness showing by the wavering in her gaze and the constant fidgeting. The frizz in her shoulder-length curls—it is way too humid today—only augmented the possibility that she might be a total fruitcake despite looking like the quiet, girlish type

Fine, he grumbled to himself. Objectively speaking, she had nice features. Slender build, as well—but she wasn't too dainty. Maybe she did some kind of exercises regularly. Tennis? Ping-pong? Dance? Judo?

"Good—afternoon, no it's morning! Good morning! Nijimura-san! It's a pleasure to m-m-meet you! Yes! A pleasure!" The loudness of her voice seemed to carry around them, judging by the amount of turning heads.

So noisy. "Good Morning," he replied flatly, his ears ringing.

"Hai! I'm a big fan, Nijimura-san!" she proclaimed with sparkles in her eyes, stoked to be basking in his presence. "I saw you in the Kanto Karate championships last year! It was super awesome and quick and…" she spoke faster and faster until it almost sounded like gibberish.

Shuzo cast his mind back to last year. Last year…the year of delinquency. He dyed his hair a moronic colour, got into fights when his father's health started going downhill, pulled himself together even with that stupid hair but he managed to dye it back right before he started at Teikou—a sinking feeling overtook him once he could understand what the underclassman was chattering about.

"…and your heart was flaming like the colour of your hair—"

"AH!" he interjected loudly. "I remember!" he tapped his palm lightly with a fist, acting dumb, like he just recalled the memories of last year.

Seijuro was staring at him. His pressuring stare was like a thousand needles pricking at him, relentlessly. Obviously, no one would believe a crappy act that like that. And normal people should be able to understand his act as a social cue to sidestep that topic just in case emotional landmines were stepped on.

"Yes! It was glorious! I'm glad you remember!"

Gods of basketball and fried rice. She doesn't get it. "Eugh-yeah," was all he could say in return. He tried to block out her outpouring enthusiasm. It was too much for him to handle.

A hand shot out at him, trembling. She had fire in her eyes despite the nervousness. "C-c-can I shake your hand, sir?"

"…Yeah."

Utter confusion. First-years tended to do that to him. They were all a bit on the kooky side, though.

Oh well. If being weird would pave the way to victory, then he'll accept it with open arms.

Nothing could stop this team now. They would become invincible.


1 NEW MESSAGE

From: Shigeshige

Today 8:46am

I MADE FIRST STRING! THIS IS THE START OF MY YOUTH! ┗(^∀^)┛I'm so excited!

(⊙﹏⊙✿) Even though I'm still a benchwarmer, I'll work hard to play in a real game. By the way, in the basketball club at Teiko—is there a guy called Kuroko? He's my friend. I'm sure he's doing well.


Maika blinked. Then she stared at the Teiko side of the court from her position in their school's part of the stands. She rubbed her eyes. Blinked again, only to stare at her phone screen.

"Wah. That's a bit of a surprise," she muttered as she set up the tripod. Being carefully lectured by President Nakamura of the Media club previously, she thoroughly checked the batteries, the lens and memory card. Everything was in order.

She glanced at the camera bag on the seat next to her, suddenly feeling a little unsure. Maybe sneaking out the special photography camera wasn't a good idea. But...she wanted to take some good photos!

(I hope Nakamura-senpai doesn't get angry.) Something about the name felt strangely familiar, but she couldn't really remember.

The cheering from the people around her was loud. From a closer look, these boys were probably the second-string and third-string members of the basketball club. They were the ones who couldn't make the cut for a game. Yet, the club…no, the school expected them to keep cheering for the players.

How heavy the responsibility must be, being a regular. She sat down on the hard plastic seat, feeling empathetic to their plight. This wasn't a club to make friends, to hold hands and be merry. It was a serious competition between the members.

You either make it in, or sit on the sidelines. Harsh.

Yet, the atmosphere was filled with a sort of excited tension. Their heavy expectations thickened the air around her.

She tapped a hasty reply before pocketing the phone in her school blazer. She nodded to herself. Okay. It's about to start.

Maika pressed the record button. It was the beginning.


Nine: Causality

"I'm glad," Satsuki sighed in relief as Maika approached her after the hard-earned win. They stood at the edge of the congregation holding a team meeting, whispering to each other.

"It went well," she agreed quietly, hovering over the manager as she was rummaging through a cumbersome bag. "Do you need help?"

Kneeling on the ground, Satsuki quickened the pace of her searching. She stopped, and looked up with a panicked face. "There's no medical tape. And the Coach is going to check the stats I recorded…" she trailed off, her face contorted with sudden shock.

"Oh no!"

Concerned by the urgency in her voice, Maika bent down. "What's wrong?"

Quickening her rummaging into a panicked pace, Satsuki furrowed her delicate eyebrows. "The med tape's missing…aawww—I'll get scolded for this if Coach or Nijimura-senpai finds out."

"…it's just medical tape?

Satsuki shook her head, sighing. "Nothing is allowed to be missing from the first-aid kits for all sessions, formal games and informal practices."

Maika was taken aback at the attention to detail. She leaned closer to talk lowly lest authority overheard. "Do you want me to sneak out now and buy some?"

The other girl's eyes glowed with hope. "Really?"

"I need to print some photos."

"Are you sure?"

"It's lunch break—should be fine if I come back with meat buns, they'll assume I went out to get lunch at the canteen."

A conspiratorial glance was all it took to decide.

"Make sure Akashi-kun doesn't know. I'll get in trouble immediately."

"Roger that."

They grinned at each other, smiles big enough to split their faces.

"I'd like a red-bean filling, please," Satsuki said as she tried to make a silent exit. In response, Maika made a heart shape with her arms where her fingers touched her head for a full-body love shot.

Satsuki returned the gesture cutely.

.

It's kind of disgusting.

Somehow, Aomine Daiki was the unfortunate witness to that scene.

.

.

.

Medical tape, photos and meat buns (one with a red-bean filling for Satsuki, of course) in hand, Maika bumped into someone she knew right in front of the games arcade.

"Sorenji?"

She pivoted, still chewing and relishing her tasty lunch. Nakamura-senpai from the Media Club! President! President and friends!

Quickly swallowing, she greeted her upperclassman respectfully.

Like any leader should, he crossed his arms. "Aren't you supposed to be with the basketball club?"

She held up the clear plastic bag of meat buns with a sheepish smile. "I was craving these."

"I see." His understanding expression made her relieved. She wasn't in trouble. Thank the basketball gods.

"How about you, senpai? Did today's half-day classes end early?"

"Yeah. But we're not here at the arcade to play, sadly," he peered through the glass doors, as if staring at someone inside.

One of his friends chimed in. "We're on a stakeout."

"Yup," another chirped. "Found Haizaki bumming around in there."

She blinked. That name sounds familiar. "Who's that?"

Nakamura looked back at her from his 'stakeout' position. "He's a regular on the basketball team. I wonder why he's there."

His friends leapt at the opportunity to tease him good-naturedly.

"Obviously he's skipping, Nakki."

"Yeah, yeah. Why are you even in the top ten—I thought you were smart, Nakki."

"Let's call Nijimura, Nakki."

Nakamura Makino (so, his nickname was 'Nakki', to his chagrin) sighed, his rosy cheeks telling of embarrassment. He brushed a hand through his shiny black hair (Maika was curious—how could it be so silky?) and stuck a hand in the pockets of his denim jeans.

"I forgot my phone," he groaned.

"I ran out of credit," another replied immediately.

"Me too."

"Broke mine."

"…Me too. I dropped it in the toilet. With my new sunglasses."

That just sounded like a disaster. Maika winced. "That's just too bad, senpai. I have my cellphone. You can use it to call Ni-ni-nijimura-san." She reached in her school blazer's pocket, flipping the bright orange device open.

Nakamura took it with quiet thanks. Somehow, his face changed with one look at her phone wallpaper.

Was it strange? It's just a photo of Satsuki-chan, Yumin and me? Don't people usually have that? Am I missing out on something?

His friends even leaned in to check on their frozen buddy. Understanding looks were cast at each other, nods and grins and sighs—generally pretty complicated expressions.

Feeling like she'd missed an inside joke, she treaded carefully. "Is-is there anything wrong, Nakamura-senpai?"

He flinched. "No—that," – he muttered something that suspiciously sounded like 'Momoi' under his breath –"Nothing. We'll just borrow your phone. Thanks. Do you mind waiting for a bit?"

A memory niggled at the back of her mind. She brushed it off, unable to fully remember. "Okay."

This Haizaki will be in a bit of trouble, she thought to herself. Maika could not have underestimated that any more, because soon after she bore witness to a brutal murder scene by punches filled with love from a loving, peaceful (former delinquent) Captain. The truant barely survived.

Rest in peace, Haizaki. Sorry for unleashing the awesome Nijimura-san on you.

.

.

.

Nakamura…Nakki…Momoi…

The names ran circles in her brain on the way back. Ami…gym…Momoi…

There, at the traffic lights, an epiphany hit her like a speeding train. 'Nakamura-kun!' they had screamed, that afternoon behind the gym.

Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Nakamura-senpai confessed to Satsuki-chan. And was rejected. Oh my gosh. OH MY GOSH! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!

And she had the gall to show him (accidentally) the photo of the girl who rejected him.

Could she be a secret…sadist?

(These were her first steps into the forbidden realm…)

LINE

She was caught by Seijuro as soon as she slipped the medical tape into Satsuki's waiting hands, just in time as the Coach remembered to check the first aid kits before the next game. His eyes had that accusing look, like he knew she did something wrong.

Raising a finger to her lips, she gave him her best pleading look. Please. No lectures. Please-please-please!

By a stroke of a miracle, he let her off.

Maybe it was his good mood. After that narrow escape, Teiko kept winning its matches, and they won in style. Despite their handicap for first-years only, they exceeded expectations and played so well.

Maika was proud when she high-fived Tetsuya with vigor.

"You were amazing!"

"Thank you," he answered in his soft voice, notably brighter than his usual gloomy passiveness.

She high-fived his tall friend too, who laughed out loud when she praised his agility enthusiastically.

"You two have coordinated teamwork," she remarked.

The boy grinned, slapping Tetsuya on the back. "Thanks, me and Tetsu worked really hard."

"Oh!" she held up a fist. "Your fighting spirit is impressive."

Bumping fists, Maika found out his name was Aomine Daiki, and he also knew Satsuki since way back. The basketball team was a small world. Everyone seemed to know each other.

The atmosphere was lively as they waited outside the gymnasium, ready to go back home after their debriefing. The only thing that didn't match was the jumbo-sized rainbow pinwheel that kept spinning in the corner of her vision. An even more bothersome existence was holding onto the pinwheel, standing ramrod straight.

Midorima Shintaro was so eccentric. Like spaghetti without spaghetti sauce. He was missing something important. Excusing herself from present, more welcoming company, she left Tetsuya and Daiki to their little friendship world and made her way towards Seijuro and unfortunately, Shintaro.

"Hello, Midorima," she greeted him curtly.

"Sorenji," was the equally curt response.

Nodding a polite greeting to the titan-sized boy eating chips, she stepped past him to stand next to Seijuro.

"Sei-kun," she addressed him warmly.

He met her eyes directly. "Maika."

Feeling a bit self-conscious, she smiled. "I have something for you."

.

.

.

"Is this your boyfriend?" The lady at the photo printing shop asked her with a nostalgic tone. She slides them across the glass counter in front of Maika. "How nice, being young."

Straightening up immediately, Maika shook her head so fast she felt dizzy. "No, ma'am! Not at all!"

"So he plays basketball?"

Helplessly, she smiled. "Um. He does."

"My first love used to play basketball too," - the woman nodded to herself as she tucked hair peppered with gray behind her ear – "Be careful, popular and handsome boys like this one breaks hearts like breathing."

Interest slightly peaked; she stopped inspecting the photographs to listen properly. "…And?" she asked somewhat breathlessly.

"Don't think that shine brightly all the time, like they seem to do. Everyone has moments of weakness because we're human after all."

"Ah…"

"Lastly, don't ever hope that he'll change for you," –her eyes darkened, mouth pursed –"Men, they pretend until marriage and then their real face comes out of hiding…they never do the housework properly and he…he starts to play cards with his friends most nights, and forgets our wedding anniversary…" she trailed off, her eyes glistening.

Maika felt like she'd been sucked into a black hole, lost in the universe. She waved her hands ambiguously. "I-It will be okay! Your husband loves you, ma'am!"

The woman nodded as she dabbed her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.

She had no idea how this turned into an episode of Relationship Healing.

.

.

.

With a thundering heart, she handed him still memories of his basketball match, her best work so far.

Her favorite ones, too. She liked the Seijuro who played basketball.

Seijuro looked through the six candid shots. He was silent for too long. His expression gave nothing away.

She gulped. "Um…these are for you. And I was thinking that since you were super amazing, Akashi-san, you know, he might want one. For…a record of his son being really cool at what he does…I hope you'll like it."

And cue more silence. The chatter of the people around her was white noise. She could hear nothing but the beating of her heart.

Finally, he spoke. "You've improved in taking photos. There is more focus and better lighting—the foreground and background are effectively portrayed…"

Her hope turned into dust before her eyes. He doesn't like it—I'm sure I've offended him somehow…I don't know.

She was internally screaming with self-hate.

"Thank you, Maika," Seijuro looked up from the photos, his eyes sincere.

Speechless, all she could do was nod. All she could do was bite back the question that sprang to her lips as they walked together. It was definite. She knew instinctively that if she asked him what she was wondering, he would look at her with cold anger. She knew.

So all Maika could do was nod, and ponder why he made no mention of his father.


つづく


End Notes

First of all, I'm sorry for the long wait! I'm currently swamped with assessments, but once holidays hit it'll be more regular. It's unedited—but I'm sure you all wanted something quickly.

Above all, please excuse Haizaki's filthy mouth.

I kind of imagine Maika to look like a combination of Miyazono Kaori from Shigatsu Uso and Chihaya from Chihayafuru…with shoulder-length, wavier hair and different colouring, of course.

Also, when the segments are in a character's point of view, the last names tend to be used. And when it's in omniscient narration, then the first names are always used. Some people are confused by the 'inconsistency'.

Anyway, this story isn't that focused on romance—for the endgame to actually happen I have a lot planned. Also, I can guarantee that the twists in this story will be different to the KnB stories—I did some research and phantom-swept through. Thoughts? It's finally here! The first obvious signs of plot is finally here!

Much love,

Tollpatsch