POV Midorima

Thirty minutes into practice, Coach takes Takao aside. Takao's smile widens with each second. I can hear Coach's taciturn, halting speech pattern, but I can't hear the words.

"Hey, Midorima, stop starring at Takao and pay attention," the American exchange student yells at me. This is followed by a ball thrown too hard for the short distance between us. I side-step, allowing it to bounce harmlessly beside me. He is a centimeter taller than I am and as I look him in the eye, I find it relieving to no longer hold the distinction of being the tallest players on this team.

"Attend to your own affairs, first-year," I tell him. Takao sees my scowl and asks a silent question by tilting his head and scrunching his brow. I shake my head. Takao sprints off of the court and returns a few seconds later with a whistle. I am prepared for the shrill sound as I watch him put the thing to his lips.

"Huddle up," he calls and Coach steps up while we all gather around.

"Um, ah," Coach begins. He is almost as much of an introvert as I am; speaking in public is not his forte and we must strain to hear his announcement. He crosses his arms and nods once before beginning. "Practice – we are going to end early today for a field trip. Shower, change, be out at the bus in fifteen."

Now I understand Takao's joy. He has been trying to convince me to go to my former teammate's games to see how they compare to last season. I, however, want to concentrate on my own basketball first. There is only one game interesting enough for us to waste our practice time: Kaijō Vs Tōō.

I don't understand why the American continues to glare at me, but I shower, change, and pack quickly. I am the first outside waiting for the bus. The team wanders out slowly and Takao arrives with wet hair and hands full of papers. He gives one to each of us; it is the proposed starting line-up for when we play either of the two teams we will be watching.

"Coach wants you to pay specific attention to your potential marks. This is your homework – get to know the other players. We will only play one of these teams at Inter-High, but we will see them both again, at other tournaments," Takao explains.

It is not surprising that my assignment is to watch both team's aces as well as their shooting guards. Takao is listed to mark both Aomine and Kise as well. Both schools have less first-year students on their team this year and as such, they will be stronger teams. Without Imoyashi and Kasamatsu as captains, it is a temptation to underestimate them, but our first years thankfully take it seriously, at least, everyone but the American does.

"I don't have anyone to mark on Kaijō?" he asks.

"When we play Kaijō, Kent-kun, Akira-kun is better suited as the power forward," Takao clarifies.

"That's ridiculous, am I in the starting line-up or not?" he argues.

"Shūtoku has a different philosophy –"

"Yeah, yeah, tireless and persistent."

"I wasn't done speaking first-year," Takao raises his voice and it is completely out of character. "Shūtoku has s different philosophy. We win as a team and make decisions that support that." Kent's eyes narrow and he looks like he wants to argue but the bus has arrived and it is time to go.


POV Takao

We arrived while the players were still warming-up. As a favor to our coach, Tōō's coach had reserved two rows of seats for us. I waited until the rest of our team was seated in the first row and then Shin-chan and I took a seat behind them with Coach.

"I don't get what's so good about these guys that we needed to come all the way out here," Kent groused.

"Kise-kun and Aomine-kun are members of the Generation of Miracles. You'll understand once you watch them play," I leaned forward and told him.

"Midorimacchi! Takaocchi!" Kise called to us.

"Oh my god, don't tell me we're here to watch your friends play," Kent groaned.

"I'm so happy you came to watch us play. Aominecchi look who's here!"

"We came to prepare to defeat you, Kise, I hardly think that is something to celebrate," Shin-chan said, pushing his glasses up.

"Nay, nay, I wouldn't expect anything less of such a strong opponent. Let's go out for dinner afterwards, right Aominecchi?"

"We will be having a strategy session with the team right after, we'll have to pass," Shin-chan said.

Kise's pout was unbecoming of an adult male, but with it, we heard a hundred fan girls sigh. Aomine glared at the crowed, Kise looked embarrassed, and Shin-chan and I ignored the spectacle.

"I've changed," Aomine said, looking directly at Shin-chan. I felt slightly nauseous as the pressure of such an ordinary set of words became a challenge. Shin-chan's knee touched mine, seeking support. I pushed back against him.

"I would hope so," Shin-chan said. "It would be a shame to put all of Kuroko's work to correct your infantile behavior to waste."

"I won't apologize for the past."

"I am not a fool. I would not expect such a thing," he said, pushing up his glasses. If he did that one more time, his glasses would be up on his forehead instead of his nose.

"But I will show you," Aomine promised.

"On the court, Aomine, show me your new basketball."


POV Midorima

The game is strikingly even. Both teams are fairly-well matched. Tōō's shooting guard is better than Kaijō's, but neither of them have anything to teach me. Kise and Aomine are trading plays well. For the first time in almost four years, Aomine passes the ball when he could have made the shot. It is…noteworthy, but it does not change my opinion of him. He continues to bully the players around him, on both teams, but this time when he knocks someone down, he is the first to offer his hand to assist them up. If it lasts for more than the first half, I will be shocked.

"Whoa," Akira gasps as Kise uses his perfect copy. There is nothing uglier than that formless shot. It is inefficient; the amount of effort put into it does not equal the value of the points. The first-years are animated, but they aren't awed and overwhelmed.

"Now it makes sense," Sasuke says, turning around to look at me. "No wonder they call the group of you The Generation of Miracles."

"What are you talking about, those two are freakin' monsters; you're telling me Midorima is one of them? Get real," Kent scoffs.

Takao moves forward in his seat, I've never seen him moved to violence, but I nudge his leg and lean forward so that I invade Kent's personal space.

"That's because we reserve our true power for worthy opponents," I say imitating Aomine's slow drawl, but instead of apathy, I tint my voice with distain. The buzzer sounds, announcing the end of the second quarter. Kent jumps at the sound and blinks. Takao slaps my shoulder.

"Let's go get a snack; I'm starving."

I hold Kent's gaze for a few seconds longer and then I explode out of my seat, startling him once again. That can of red bean soup has never tasted so good.

"Kent-kun, ah um," I hear coach say. "Twenty laps around the building, um, ah, now."


The second half is a standstill for over three minutes. Both teams are frustrated and the play moves from the outside to the inside, hoping that more aggressive, less strategic play will break the stranglehold on the score. Tōō is up by three points and Aomine takes the ball, a smile spreads across his entire face.

"I don't know if I like that smile," Takao says. "At least when his eyes were dead, he wasn't this creepy."

"He is a simple creature of extremes."

"He's pushing Kise hard," Takao says. The ball misses and four players leap at the rebound.

"They are both loving every second of it. We need to think of a new strategy –" I am interrupted by the sound of a bone snapping.

"What happened?" Akira gasps. I am on my feet and Takao pushes me out into the aisle so he can see as well. There is a pile of players on the floor. The benches clear and soon most of the players are righted. Takao is too short to see.

"What's going on?"

"Most of the players are back on their feet," I narrate. "But Aomine and Kise are still on the ground." A wail of despair fills the air as Aomine kneels next to Kise. Kaijō's coach runs across the court.

"It's Kise," I say and I am down on floor level without realizing I have moved. The members of Tōō scurry back as I storm the court, Takao trailing behind me. Aomine is in shock, his tanned skin is gray and ashy. Takao puts a hand on his shoulder and he does not pull away. Momoi comes running with the first aid kit and skids to a halt as she sees Kise's injury. The leg is clearly broken right below the knee which is rotated in an unnatural direction. She pushes the kit at me and runs to the nearest trashcan. The sounds of her emptying her stomach is the only thing I can hear other than Kise's keening. After a few moments, Tōō's coach is on the phone, summoning an ambulance. Aomine shakes Takao off and goes to Kise's side.

"It's ok," he says, loud enough so that Kise will hear him over his screams. "You're strong, your team is strong. You can come back from this." It is the nicest lie I've ever heard, but Kise is having none of it.

"Midorimacchi?" he whines. He is aware that my father is a doctor and that I am not known to give bitter pills inside of sugar-coating.

"It is too early to tell the extent of the damage, Kise. There's no shame in falling down. True shame is to not stand up again."

The emergency responders are unprepared to move a person of Kise's considerable proportions, so it is left to Aomine and me to lift him to the gurney. Fan girls line the path Kise takes as he leaves the court.

"I'm going to the hospital," Aomine tells Momoi. He walks to me, stops, and looks down at his shoes. "This can't be the end for him."

We all return to our seats and I notice that my hands are shaking. Takao puts his left arm around my shoulders and holds my right hand with the other. There is still a game going on around us, but I don't see it. All I see is the damage. Kise will be lucky if he can walk again. When the final buzzer sounds, I look up. Tōō has managed to preserve their lead and secure the victory, but it makes no one happy. Kaijou stays only long enough to line-up and bow before dashing away. Momoi texts me and lets me know that Kise is in surgery already. She says that Aomine is devastated. [Will you come?] she asks. Takao takes my phone when I continue to stare at it without answering. He promises that we will come by after school tomorrow. Coach takes care of the rest of our team, while Takao coddles me. I'm not sure how to process my thoughts and I don't like the fact that others are seeing me like this. I take a seat on the bus next to the window and Takao is right there beside me. I look out the window and watch the scenery roll by, because if I don't distract myself now, all I will see is that twisted knee. Takao stands and rearranges himself so that he is kneeling in his seat. In this way, he can pull me against his shoulder.

"I can't," I whisper. "Not in front of the team."

"I know," he says, petting my hair.

"What a waste of time," Kent whines.

"Show some respect," Akira says.

"To what? To Who? The guy with the broken leg can't hear me."

"To our senpais," Sasuke shouts. There is movement in the back of the bus and I move away so that Takao can investigate. I turn to watch as he stalks back down the aisle.

"This is ridiculous," Takao yells and the bus falls silent. "Kise is phenomenal basketball player and if you can't see the tragedy that kind accident is for our entire sport, then you've no business being on the team."

"Ah, um, first years will have an additional, um, let me see, forty laps at practice tomorrow. Such rowdy behavior isn't fitting," Coach decides.

"God-damn, how many laps? All because the fags are upset that one of their boyfriends got hurt!"

"What did you just say?" Takao glares. Akira and Sasuke step into the aisle.

"Don't listen to him," Akira says.

"I expect your resignation from the team to be on my desk, first thing in the morning," Coach says. "Yes, um, I think that would be for the best."