kise pov ahead

"Two managers for a team that size? Seirin is lucky."

"The dark haired one is kinda cute."

"She's too boyish. Nah, I prefer the older type."

"Gross, dude."

"Wait - she's on the court. Is - is she playing?"

Kise's hands lock together in front of his mouth, and he ignores his teammates chatter.

Hana stands with the rest of her - her team. The white jersey is strange against her skin, her dark hair, like the whole world takes a step to the left while Kise isn't looking. It feels like a joke, but Kise can't bring himself to laugh. There's nothing funny about the way Kuroko and the tall redhead bracket her, parentheses around a whisper.

Kasamatsu gets the ball in the toss up, but not for long.

Kuroko knocks it out of his hands, into Hana's grasp.

She leans back, lets a lunge pass by her before she tosses the ball behind her without a single look.

The red head - Kagami - snatches the ball out of the air, blasts down the court with Hana close behind.

Kagami slams the ball home with an ear splitting crack.

The hoop shudders once, then comes clean with the sound of metal on metal.

A hush falls over the gym.

The whole play lasts for a second, ends clean. Hana, Kuroko and Kagami make a horrifying team.

Kise bites the inside of his cheek.

That should be him. Hana and Kuroko, they should have come with him.

"Ah. It broke." Kagami says. He holds the hoop up to his face. "Hey Kuroko, Hana, hoops are bigger than I thought."

Kise even resents the way Hana's name falls out of Kagami's mouth, like he has a right to it, like he's known her long enough.

Too familiar. Kise keeps the snarl off his face through years of practice. He's never disliked someone this fast, this deeply. Indifference comes naturally to him, just like everything else. It feels like sinking into oil.

No. Calm down.

This is nothing. Everyone calls Hana by her given name. Kise never heard a single classmate, no matter how distant, call her anything else. It's like an aura of informality around her, stemming from the casual, unshakable confidence she carries like a second skin.

Hana glances over to the bench. Her eyes are dark as always; they look at the world and there's nothing reflected back. Then Kagami slaps her on the back hard enough to rock her backwards. The dark look vanishes into heartbreaking, familiar annoyance.

She says something too low to hear that sends the redhead spluttering.

Kuroko's smile is tiny and gone in a second, but Kise bristles at the sight of it.

"Kise!" The coach calls. "You're in."

The frisson of anticipation climbs up his spine. His team is good, but they're not miracles - against Hana, they don't match up. All of them know Akashi considers her one of them.

Hana glances over the bench. The team ripples where her eyes land, an unconscious flinch at her empty , bored expression. when her eyes hit him - she keeps going. Like he's not there. Like he's smoke.

Something small and cold appears in his heart.

He shakes his head.

Now is not the time.

"You weren't kidding about her." Kasamatsu folds his arms as they watch the janitor repair the hoop. "I couldn't even see her move. How good is she, exactly?"

Kise stretched out his arms behind his head. He'd warned Kasamatsu yesterday, because if he played around Hana like he acted around girls, she'll eat him alive.

Kise steps out onto the court. The girls in the balcony shriek with glee. For once, he ignores them.

"I don't know. I've never seen her play." Kise says. "She doesn't like basketball."

Or she didn't.

"Then how did you..."

He rolls his shoulders. How did he know?

It's Hana.

There's nothing she can't do.

Kise's first memory goes like this:

The world is a fuzzy blur. The smell of something clean, soft sheets under his grasping hands, his mother's cheerful voice. He turns to find a smudge of black on his right. He blinks and lets go of the sheets, reaches out.

Warm.

Curious hands already touch for her dark hair - darker than anything that he's ever scene. It's like all of the light entered but nothing left.

The other child makes a low complaining noise, but Kise is too delighted by this new toy to care, and she eventually settle down and let him play.

Kise is happy, and Kise is safe, and Hana is with him. All's right with the world.

Hana is born a week before him.

He's never lived in a world without her.

The game drags on, and Kise wipes the sweat from his forehead. Numbers pile up on the board like snow on a roof.

Odd as it is to see Hana in the harsh lights of the court, she handles the ball like she's born for it. Her movements are clean. Unhurried. While the rest of the teams are rushing from defense to offence, Hana watches with dark eyes giving nothing away. A rock, letting the stream flow around it. Unmoved.

"How long can she keep going? Even Kagami looks winded, but she hasn't even broken a sweat." Someone asks.

"If she gets tired," Kise says. "I've never seen it."

The team glance at each other.

Kise pulls around Kagami with a beautiful cut technique, brushes past Kuroko and slams the ball through the hoop in an echo of Kagami's earlier move.

The hoop shudders but holds.

Damn.

Kasamatsu must sense something in his voice, because he narrows his eyes. "Don't let your emotions into the game, Kise. We need to focus."

It's like a bucket of water being dumped on his head. Kise looks at Kasamatsu.

The captain raises an eyebrow. "what?"

"...Nothing." He shakes his head, hard.

Kise's looks back at the court and takes a deep breath. This isn't Teikou. He doesn't have the reassuring strength of his invincible teammates behind him, but he's got to live in the moment.

The clock ticks down and Kise forgets, in the heat of the moment, that he's angry.

Hana's as uncompromising at basketball as she is at everything else - no trick plays, no skill, no prisoners.

Just sheer, terrible talent.

(And Kise understands, for a moment why everyone they meet watches Hana with wary, half terrified eyes. She's a genius.

He's a mess of sweat and determination, and she has the same bored expression as always.

It's like facing Aomine.

Its like Akashi.

It's terrifying.

She's terrifying.

Still.)

Kagami looks over him, that savage grin on his face, and Kise can feel the answering smile on his own.

He's never had so much fun.

He's five years old, and Hana is still taller than him. Kindergarten is scary, but Hana is there so Kise's not afraid. He knows with all the faith of childhood that nothing bad can happen while she's there.

Out among the other children, Kise realizes how… odd Hana is.

She grows, but never changes. She's spoken a handful sentences to him in the five years they've been alive. Her eyes are still too dark, with rings under them, like she doesn't sleep.

Sometimes Kise feels like he's looking at an afterimage — a girl that's been gone as long as he's known her.

Sometimes he wants to ask 'why can't you stay here, with me?'

He never does.

He can't. It's like bringing the question to the surface will break her, pop her like a soap bubble in the sun.

What if she says no?

The other kids notice it too. They look at Kise like an idol, and they look at Hana like a threat. They shy away from her, keep her in the corner of their eyes - until they get used to her.

Then they get mean.

Her things disappear, or break. Rumors spread daily. No one quite dares to shove her, but that fades with time. Hana stops speaking in class, because everyone ignores her anyway.

Kids are cruel.

Kise looks at Hana when she holds the shredded scraps of her art project in both hands. He doesn't know what to say. His eyes sting, but her expression never changes.

Neither does the way people treat her.

In elementary she gets better at hiding - or perhaps she just gives up on fitting in. It's easy to meet her eyes through the lens of a camera. She blooms, animates, when she takes photos, so Kise gladly becomes a model. At least he knows she's seeing him.

Sometimes he looks at her and it's like a ghost. He has her hands in a vice grip, but it never seems like enough.

Kise looks at the scoreboard, eyes stinging, hands clenched, but they don't change. From birth to Teikou, Kise never once lost. Kise looks down at this hands, then over at Seirin. Kuroko. Hana.

He touches his face, and his hands come away wet.

Murmurs drift down from the balcony, rise up from the team, and he can't bring himself to care.

They lost.

... He lost.

He doesn't have the words to describe it. Empty hands. Something bitter on the tongue. A tremor travels from somewhere deep inside of him. Helpless frustration steals his words, his attention. All of the anger is gone, and he feels like a coal about to go out.

Hana is too far away for him to reach.

Kise has never been 'not good enough' before.

The time for line up is there and by some ugly twist, dark eyes meet Kise's. Hana and Kise stare at each other from across the dividing line.

He moves first, into a bow. "Thank you for the game."

Nothing.

He straightens and hides his trembling fist in his pockets.

"Kise."

He can't help the flinch. Is this the part where she denounces him?

Kasamatsu's broad shoulders appear in front of him.

Kise blinks.

"Good game." He says, and his voice is gruff and unfriendly.

Is Kasamatsu... protecting him? From Hana?

Hana's arms across, her face is bland as always. Her eyes flicker somewhere over his shoulder - and on another person Kise would call it hesitation, except Hana doesn't hesitate.

"Thanks. I guess." She says after a while.

He hides his sinking heart with a smile. No explanation? No mention of why she just… left?

Well.

It's stupid to expect anything in the first place.

A tiny wrinkle appears in between her brow. "Wait here."

The abrupt order leaves Kasamatsu and Kise blinking.

Hana crosses over to the bench, snatches the pen out of one her teammates hands and a page of a magazine from another. The rip could be heard across the court - that and the boys tiny, anguished 'nooooo'. Hana ignores it and writes something down on the page; she tosses the pen back to the teammate, too fast to see. It hits him in the head.

Kuroko and Kagami argue about something behind her. Neither of them look over.

None of her teammates do.

Seirin isn't afraid of her.

She comes back to the two of them and holds out the paper. "My new phone number."

Kise stares at the scrap of paper. Thousands of thoughts all rush up at once, collide and tangle to the point of agony. Why did you leave, he wants to scream. Kise thought she was gone. He had nightmares of waking up and finding her body, splattered across the ground like a painting.

On bad nights, he woke up half convinced she was just a dream.

The moment drags on. When he doesn't take it, she scratches her head and passes it to Kasamatsu; he blinks at the paper, then turns bright red - a girl just gave him her phone number.

"Well. You know how to reach me. If you want to." Hana shrugs, and it's all Kise can do keep from crying again.

So awkward.

So beloved.

Still, Kise can't say anything. He feels like a rag, wrung out.

"You want it?" Kasamatsu asks, quietly. The locker room is nearly empty. Kise sat on the bench, head down, elbows on his knees, and he hasn't moved in half an hour.

Kise rubs his face. "I don't know. I'm - I'm angry. At her. I can't -"

He glanced up at Kasamatsu. How to explain the sheer helplessness he felt when he walked in the door to find her gone. How young. How vulnerable.

How unsurprised.

That was the worst part. It was like the world itself accepts her erasure, like she's just mist to dissipate in the sunlight.

Kise looks at the world without her, and he knows he can survive it. She's not permanent; she's just passing through. From the first time he looks into her eyes, he knows that she's not - not right. Not all there. She looks, but she doesn't take anything in.

Maybe it's himself he's disappointed in the most. Kise's always been cold, but he's never thought of himself as heartless before.

He's hurt. He's angry.

At himself, most of all.

Kasamatsu shoves him a little. "Just call her and ask why then."

"It's not that."

"Than what is it?"

Kise hesitates, but in the end shakes his head without saying anything. Hana is always… personal to him in a way that nothing else is.

Kasamatsu sighs and stuffs the paper in Kise's bag. "Geniuses and their drama. If you decide you want it, you know where to find me." He claps Kise on the back, hard enough to sting. "Go cool your head, hotshot."

Kise blinks.

The captain scowls at him. "What?"

"You really suck at cheering people up, senpai."

He scowls. "Oh my god, you are the worst. Your fans are all blind. Go wash up like a civilized

person."

Kise laughs and goes.

Kise tiptoes to Hana's door. Not that it matters - even if she wakes up, she still won't do anything but stare at the wall with blank eyes. They're both thirteen years old and Hana spoken in a week. Every so often she just - shuts down. Bam, the lights are on but nobody's home.

He can't sleep. He can't do much of anything, these days. The dark is oppressive, and Kise's shoulders round.

He feels small.

Alone.

He opens the door to her room. The food on her nightstand is untouched. Hana moved sometime during the night, from staring at the wall to staring at the ceiling. Her dark eyes are vacant. Her chest rises, imperceptibly. She looks like a corpse.

Sometimes, Hana is a stranger. Her perpetual boredom trades itself in for a gray blankness, a perfect mirror of the world. She lives in her head and lets the silence take her place, becomes a silhouette where Kise's sister should be.

Nothing in.

Nothing out.

Not a reaction. Barely even a person.

Like Hana is already gone.

Each day he steels his heart before he walks into the room. Is today the day he finds an empty shell?

Kise's heart clenches. He touched her wrist, waits until he can hear the slow, steady beat of her heart. Just as he can feel the panic welling up inside, she lets out a little exhale and closes her eyes. Hana is so strong, so herself, that he never has any idea what to do about these episodes of listlessness.

Kise lets out a long breath and clenches his shaking hands.

Tomorrow. He'll contact Auntie tomorrow.

She'll know what to do.

Kise avoids the locker rooms in favor of the sinks outside. He ducks his head under a faucet and sets it as cold as he can. He needs the wake up call.

Of course Hana would win. Partnered with Kuroko, the two of them are unstoppable.

"It was an unlucky day for Geminis. Not that it matters - any monkey could have a dunk festival."

Kise sighs. "What do you want, Midorimacchi?"

Of course, the person he gets along with least is here. All Kise needs to top off this day is for Kuroko to reject him again.

The boy sniffs. He holds a green ceramic frog in his taped hand. "Nothing at all. I happened to be in the neighborhood and stopped by to attend your match. Of course, you were never going to win. It was fate that Gemini would suffer an upset today."

Kise wiped his face with the towel. "Did you come here just to make fun of me?"

Midorima's nose wrinkled. "Of course not. I am not Aomine."

"Then why are you here?"

"Am I not allowed to check out the competition now?"

"Well, you saw it. Now go away." Kise isn't in the mood to talk. He and Midorima were friends, because it was hard not to be when they got shoved into close contact every game - that didn't change Midorima's irritating habits.

Midorima adjusted his glasses, a nervous tick from their Teikou days. "I heard that... that there was a girl on the enemy team. A scary girl."

Ah.

"It was Hana." Kise says.

Midorima's fingers flexed. "Hana. That's not possible. She was to attend Rakuzan."

Kise's eyebrows drew down. "She told you?"

Why would she tell Midorima and not Kise?

Midorima shifts. "No. Akashi told me before graduation."

Kise blinks. "Akashicchi? Then why is she in Seirin?"

"Perhaps he changed his mind?"

That earns Midorima a look of disbelief. Akashi didn't do mundane things like make mistakes or change his mind.

Midorma folds his arms, shoulders stiff. "Well, what do you suggest? Hana turned him down and got away with it? Akashi?"

Kise drops his towel.

It became common place to see Hana hang off Akashi. She's always been a physical person, zero shame all the way down. She had a boyfriend so she'd use him like a personal resting post. Kise would know - he performed that duty for three years.

Hana makes Akashi smile.

Would she throw that away, without mercy? Would she?

Kise and Midorima look at each other, the truth hanging between them - because, yes Hana absolutely would.

At Teikou, the students treated Hana and Akashi as part of a whole; the schools number one power couple. No one liked Hana, but they couldn't deny that she fit Akashi, in power and talent. The two of them never fought, but not because Hana was afraid. It's just that Hana and Akashi have similar ideas about life.

If Akashi tried to make Hana do something...

The silence is oppressive.

The sound of someone panting broke through Kise's horror.

Midorima looks just as glad about the interruption in his own constipated way. "Takao. You're late."

"I'm late?" The dark haired boy gives a breathless laugh. There's a rickshaw, of all things, hitched to his bike. The whole picture had Midorima stamped all over it. "You're heartless Shin-chan! I can't believe you just left me behind like that." He glances at Kise, a slow up and down.

Kise raises an eyebrow. He can recognize when someone is checking him out.

The boy leans over the bike, crossing his arms and gives Kise a cheerful smile. "Oh? You found your friend. I'm Kazunari Takao. I'm a big fan."

Kise gives the boy an amused smile. He wasn't bad looking, with compact but wiry frame, his hair pulled back out of his dark, sharp eyes, and a badly look of hidden mischief lingering in the corner of his mouth.

"A pleasure." Kise says, tilts his head at an angle he knows catches the sun, makes his gold hair a crown, guilds his skin. He enjoys flirting, so long as that's all it is.

Hana always says -

Kise's smile froze on the edges.

Midorima shifts, and Kise recognizes the first signs of a lecture.

Think about it later.

He grins at Midorima. "Missed the nickname? She'll be so flattered."

He narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh nothing, Shin-chan."

Midorima pales. "Do not tell her -"

"Her?" Takao's sharp eyes flicker between them. "Who's her? Shin-chan, do you have a girlfriend that I don't know about?"

Kise places his hands behind his head. "Just the only girl that Midorimacchi is -"

"Shut up. Die." Midorima's glare is a thing to behold. He looks at Takao. "Do not concern yourself with the idiocy that drips out of his mouth. He rarely says anything worthwhile."

Takao's smile is teasing, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I don't know Shin-chan. I might get jealous if you keep talking about friends I don't know."

Kise blinks.

Oh.

Oh.

...Good luck, Takao. Midorima is one of the densests people Kise's ever met - and unlike Hana, it's not that he doesn't care. It's that he genuinely doesn't notice.

Like now.

Midorima sniffs. "It's none of your business. Now we need to leave, or we'll miss practice entirely."

"Leave? Shin-chan, I just got here! I'm exhausted -"

"Shut up. It's good for your stamina training." Midorima sat in the rickshaw without ceremony. He looks like a prince, and Kise can't suppress a smile this time.

God, he's so glad that he doesn't have to deal with that all day.

Godspeed, Takao Kazunari.

"Kise." Midorima says abruptly. "Tell Hana I said that her lucky item is an umbrella." The bridge of his cheeks are a faint pink.

Kise gives him a smile, small but real. For all of Midorima's… quirks, he's still Kise's friend. "Midorimacchi sure is a tsundere."

"Die."

The number in his bag is a stone. Kise feels heavy. He keeps his eyes on the ground on the walk home from school, the pavement and asphalt pass slowly under his feet. He spins a basketball on his fingertip. It gives him something else to focus on.

After three months of fear, his heart can't quite settle down.

Hana, hair short. Dark circles under her eyes. He thinks about that hellish week, sitting at her bedside and counting the space between breaths.

Who takes care of her now?

His mouth goes tight.

"Kise-kun?"

Kise stops, because he can't forget that voice. He turns.

Kuroko. Even after three months of not seeing him, Kise still feels tongue tied whenever his blue eyes look at him. Even now, all of the fame in Japan doesn't compare to having Kuroko's eyes on him.

Kise's mouth is dry.

All of Kise's life, he's been chased. His looks, his talent, his career - he's not modest. He knows his own value. People look at him and they want. They always want something.

He doesn't know what to do with Kuroko's sincere niceness.

Kuroko looks at him and all he wants is Kise to play basketball with him. He's blunt. He's honest.

Kise wants to die every time Kuroko looks at him. He wants to die when Kuroko looks away.

The rest of Seirin is ahead of Kuroko, loud and happy. A head of blue-black hair by the coach.

Kise, grip white knuckle on his bag, swallows and forces a smile on his face. "Kurokocchi! What amazing timing, what are you doing around here?"

"Coach decided that we should have a team bonding experience." He glances over his shoulder. "I've never seen anyone eat that much in one sitting."

Kise shifts. "Can I borrow you for a bit?"

Kuroko blinks. "Of course."

They chat about meaningless things on the way to a nearby park - well. Kise does. Kuroko listens and responds sparingly. Just like old times.

Kise waves at the few girls who recognize him in the crowd, leaves them with a smile and a wink. He might not find them attractive, but he still likes girls. Growing up with three sisters will do that to a guy. They reach the park before any of them ask for autographs, fortunately.

"Kise-kun is a shameless flirt as always." Kuroko says.

Kise laughs and sits down on a bench. "Be nice Kurokocchi! I can't disappoint my fans, it's rude."

"Shameless. Speaking of which, I saw Midorima-kun."

"You did?"

Kuroko's brows furrow the tiniest bit. "I still don't understand him."

"I don't think anyone does." Kise props his head on one hand. "Seems like he just came to watch today. More importantly, I lost a game, Kurokocchi dumped me again, Hanacchi started playing basketball without telling anyone, and she's going by Mashiro - my high school life is one surprise after another." Kise smiles up at the sky - it's the same color as Kuroko's hair. "I said it because I had nothing to lose, but I really was serious, you know."

"About transferring to your school?" Kuroko hesitates. "...I'm sorry. My place is at Seirin."

And this is the reason that Kise can't kill his feelings. Kuroko and Hana are similar in a lot of ways. However he acts on the surface, Kuroko is resolute as he is kind. Once he decides something no one can move him. For someone like Kise, who drifts through life, that sort of thing is impossible.

"Never mind. I'll live. I do have to ask you, though." Kise looks him in the eye. "Why did you leave without saying anything to us?"

Kuroko's lips pull down. "...To tell you the truth, I don't know."

Kise blinks.

"At Teikou, I was unhappy. Their way of doing things... I hated it. For a long time, I hated it. Hated basketball and anything to do with it." Kuroko looks down at his hands. Calloused fingers, short nails. "Teikou's philosophy was a poison and it was turning me into something I didn't like. So I walked away."

Kuroko... hated basketball?

The words made sense separately, but together turn into something incomprehensible, like saying up was down, or Hana hates photography. Kuroko, who turns himself into a ghost just to play, hated basketball?

Why? Sports were about winning, about being the best. Teikou is the best.

Kise loves Kuroko, but he doesn't always understand him.

"Kise-kun. Did Mashiro-san really not tell you where she was?" Kuroko asks.

Kise laughs, but there's nothing happy about it. "She really didn't."

Kuroko bows. "I have to apologise. It was me who asked her to come with me. I wasn't aware that she didn't -"

"Kurokocchi. Don't worry about it, seriously. When has anyone been able to make Hana do something she doesn't want?"

Kuroko pauses and straightens up. "Never, Kise-kun."

Yeah. If she went, it's because she wanted to. If she stayed, it's because she wanted to.

The two of them watch the players on the court.

"Kurokocchi is happy at Seirin?" Kise asks, finally.

"... Yes. Very happy. Kagami-kun -" Kuroko's hesitation is minuscule. " - and Mashiro-san are strong. Kagami will go far in life. His love for the game is infectious."

Kise can see the truth in his eyes, and he gives him a helpless smile. How would he even argue with that? If Kuroko is happy, if Hana wants to be there -

Kise sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Then I'm glad. But Kurokocchi has to be careful. People like Kagami will leave you behind."

Kuroko stares up at him with blank eyes.

People like Hana never stay.

Speak of the devil. A large hand comes down on Kuroko's head. "There you are, you bastard! Are you a little kid? Stop wandering off!"

Kise shifts. "You were listening?"

"Like hell I was!" Kagami glares at Kise. "I don't care how much you like Kuroko, stop kidnapping him!"

"Kidnapping?" Kise pouts. "I was just saying hi to my friend. He came along on his own."

"Kagami-kun is hurting me." Kuroko says, deadpan.

Kuroko looks ridiculous standing by his red haired monster of a teammate, his already short stature made childlike - but Kise can't laugh. Kuroko looks comfortable, in his own understated way. He's already accustomed himself to being in Kagami's shadow.

Defeat is bitter.

Kise smiles. "Kagamicchi is good - but not good enough. Compared to them, I'm still a beginner. You can't defeat the generation of miracles yet. You can't even beat Hanacchi."

Kagami snorts. "Then I'll get better."

And he's utterly serious. Like that's all it takes. Kuroko stands by his side and there's no surprise on his face.

Something inside Kise settles.

Maybe they can do it.

Kise bows to the two of them, serious and formal. "Please take care of Hana for me."

"Kise-kun?" Kuroko's voice is worried.

Blank eyes. A girl who might vanish at any moment.

"I wasn't enough." Kise's hands fist at his sides. "I know she seems cold, but she needs people. Please continue to be her friends." He looks up at them.

Kagami sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "You Teikou people have some serious issues. Even if you didn't ask, we'd do it. Hana is our teammate."

"...Yes."

Kise looks up at the sky. Maybe it doesn't have to be all or nothing. Maybe, when the nightmares stop, he'll be able to talk to her without shame.

The number in his backpack feels less like a stone now, and more like a teather.

He thinks about the way her team don't flinch from her. The way Kagami and Kuroko fall into place by her side naturally, where she always walked alone before - and Kise lets himself hope.

Maybe this is enough to save her.

this took forever to edit and i'm still not sure about it. kise is surprisingly hard to write for. let me know if you guys think that i've kept him in character because i'm a little iffy about it.

also happy belated anniversary to horseshoes and hand grenades! its now a year since i started writing this garbage fire! hopefully i'll get more than ten chapters done this next year lol