"Midorima's girlfriend is... a player?" Takao points at you, eyes wide.

You look down at your uniform. That sure is a jersey. You look at Midorima with eyes full of pity. What a shame that he was stuck with stupid teammates.

"Girlfriend?" Huyuuga says, voice incredulous. Everyone ignores him.

Midorima pinches the bridge of his nose. "Obviously. Idiot."

"Boo, Shin-chan. How was I supposed to know that?" Takao pouts. "I've never seen a girl play in the boy's league."

You catch Kuroko's blink out of the corner of your eyes. He looks at you and tilts his head a Takao, who's hanging off Midorima. Midorima, who's letting him.

You shrug. You didn't give Takao the nickname.

"Is everyone going to ask that?" Kagami cracks his neck. "It's getting old. Like Seirin gives out jerseys to anyone."

"Not everyone is accepting as Kagami-kun." Kuroko notes. "They do not understand."

You shrug. "Yet."

Kuroko's lips turn up slightly. "Yet."

Kagami rolls his eyes at you. "Don't act like it has nothing to do with you when it's literally all about you."

"Of course she's a player." Midorima snaps. "Did you think that Hana would really take care of anyone? Also, she isn't my girlfriend!"

"It's kind of hard to take that seriously when you call her by her first name, Shin-can." Takao says, a smirk on his face.

The other team continues to tease Midorima, missing the way Seirin freezes as one; then turns to look at you.

"Something to share with the class, Hana?" Hyuuga says with a menacing glint to his glasses.

You look over to the impatient reff. "Oh look, it's time to play basketball."

"Don't change the subject, freshman!"

The whistle saves you from having to say anything else. The ref cuts short the chatter and the teams line up, with Kagami on your side to catch the toss up.

Still, a heavy pair of eyes remains on you.

You glance at Kuroko. What's his deal?

"I can't believe you'd be so callous to your boyfriend, Mashiro-san." He says, utterly flat. "I am disappointed in you."

His voice is low, but the whole gym hears it - and you can tell by the way Midorima splutters on the other end of the court. "Kuroko -"

You look at Kuroko, face deadpan. Then you turn to Midorima and blow him a kiss, face still blank.

He goes beat red.

You look back at Kuroko. "Better?"

"Much." He says, and even you can see the spark of mischief in his eyes.

Whatever else he says is cut off by the toss up of the ball. All of the mirth drains out of him, replaced by the burning of intensity.

Kagami jumps, leaves the ground so far behind it's a wonder he ever comes back down.

The ball is in motion.

The game begins.

You know from the first exchange that you're better than Midorima's team. It's not that they're bad - in fact they're leagues better than the team before, and it's not - they're not terrible, not really. But you're still not being challenged. Takao knocks the ball out of Kuroko's hand and the rest of the team gasps. Midorima makes point after point, machine precision. You... coast. Match yourself to Seirin's pace, even if it feels like moving through deep water.

At least Kagami looks like he's having fun.

Half time comes and again, the rest of the team is a sweaty mess and you're just... fine. Physically, you're at one hundred percent. No effort required.

Aida notices it too. She stares hard at you, and you can almost see the numbers running in her head. "Hana, how many matches do you think you could play in a row?"

Hyuuga looks over, towel around his neck.

You look up from where you're sitting by the wall, hands behind your head. "I don't know." You say, with a shrug. "A few."

"Seriously?" Hyuuga says.

Aida adds up the numbers in her head - and instead of the half-afraid look you expect, you know is coming, her mouth curved in a smile. "Perfect. I want you to cover Takao."

You blink. "Not Midorima?"

She waves her hands. "The best way to shut down a shooter is to simply - not give them the ball. Kagami and Kuroko can handle the rest."

Huh. You shrug. "Kay."

A large, sweaty came down on your head. "Nevermind your evil scheming. Are you really dating that prick in the glasses?" Kagami slumped down next to you and looked over to Shukoto. "He's carrying around like... an anime girl thing."

Itsuki cranes his head. "What, really?"

"Yeah. It's giving me the creeps. I can feel it's soulless eyes following me all over the court. Is that normal in Japan?"

"Nope." You say. Midorima is just fucking weird.

"It is Midorima-kun's lucky item for today." Kuroko says, sitting down - not on Kagami's side, like you expected, but next to you. Like it's natural. He offers you and Kagami a water.

You stare at him. "...Is it poisoned."

Kagami scoffs, takes both of them and throws one at you. "Don't be a dramatic dick. Also, what the hell is a lucky item?"

You catch it and look at Kuoko again. "Thanks. I guess."

You have no idea what's going on anymore. Was this covered by the truce? It's like Kuroko's trying to be - nice, when you only expected civility. You're wary.

Kuroko ignores your stare, instead explaing the concept of a lucky item to Kagami, who's eyebrows go higher and higher.

"That's fucking stupid." Kagami says. "Luck isn't a thing."

You think about the talent you did nothing to earn, the way you crush people with years of experience under your heels. How you exist. You say nothing.

Kuroko blinks, face placid. "Be that as it may, I have never see him miss."

"What, never?" The three of you look over when the vice-captain of the team sits next to Kagami, towel around his neck. "That's… scary."

"Indeed." Kuroko says. "Midorima-kun has always been the most focused of the Miracles. With Takao-san's assitance, he is even more formidable player."

You lean back against the bench and look up at the ceiling, one hand loosely holding the drink. "Mm." You say, not really listening.

"This Takao guy, he's like Hana?" Kagami wipes his forehead with his jersey. "He can see Kuroko?"

You spin the black sweatband around your wrist. "No. Nothing like me."

Kuroko blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Takao's got hawk's eyes. It's natural talent for him." You shrug. "I have to do it actively. If I stop paying attention, I don't see him."

"Huh." Kagami said. "How?"

"I would like to know as well." Kuroko says. "If there is some sort of flaw that you can use, then others may be able to exploit it."

You hold up the thumb and forefingers on each hand and make a square, then center it on Kuroko. "You think I don't know how to guide the eye? A little misdirection is nothing."

Kuroko blinks. "Ah. I did not think about that."

You lower your hands and tuck them into your pockets. You've had years of practice observing your surroundings before you met Kuroko; always looking for that perfect shot, that one moment worth capturing.

You still do it, even now. On some level, you're always paying attention.

"Wait, what?" Kagami puts a hand down on both yours and Kuroko's shoulders. "Care to share with the rest of us, who don't have any connection to your tragic backstory?"

You roll your eyes. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

A part of you regrets even bringing it up. The cool plastic of the camera under you hands. The click of the shutter. The breathless moment before you get a glimpse of what you captured on film. A clear lens between you and the rest of the world. A way of making sense of the people in it.

Your fingers twitch.

Kuroko adjusts his wristbands. "Yes. It is enough to say that no one else may do what Mashiro-san can."

"Tch. Cryptic bastards. Whatever. I still can't imagine you dating anyone." Kagami says. "You're just... Hana. Who'd be willing to date you?"

"Rude." You say. "I happen to have two ex-boyfriends." Fake ones, but still. You're talented, rich, and pretty good looking. Minus your personality, you're a catch.

You time it for when Kagami takes another drink, and you're rewarded when Kagami chokes and sputters water everywhere. "What? You - you found two people -" He looks at Kuroko.

"It's true." Kuoko says, peeling the label of his pocari. "Kise-kun and Mashiro-san dated for years."

Izuki blinks. "The -the model? Kise Ryouta of the generation of miracles? The super handsome, suave person who was voted number one person a girl wants to date in Jordan Magazine? That Kise?"

All three of you pause to stare at him. Jordan is a prominent girls magazine. You and Kise have both done work for them before.

"How do you know that?" Kagami asks.

"I like the articles," Itsuki lies. Poorly.

"Yes, Itsuki-sempai. That Kise." Kuroko says, voice deadpan.

This time it's your turn to be stared at.

"Wait, who's the second one?" Kagami asks.

Kuroko's mouth goes tight.

You roll the water in your hands, ignore the way they stare. Akashi... sometimes you miss him. The two of you didn't agree about... a lot of things, but it didn't stop you from being comfortable around him. With Akashi you could let him lead. Let him make the decisions. He took charge like he breathed.

It wasn't a surprise in the end, that he made the decision for your to go to Rakuzan with him. You had so little energy in the end that having someone else to make the day to day decisions for you was easy.

But that's all it is.

He used you for a shield. You used him as a rudder.

"No one important," You say, finally. It's over and done with.

Beside you, Kuroko is still.

You wonder: what is it like to want to save someone?

"...and that's not ominous at all. Is this more Miracle bullshit?" Kagami rubbed his eyes. "It's never ending with you people."

Kuroko blinks, and shifts. "Kagami-kun is so astute."

"Shut it. There's always something new and depressing from you Teikou bastards."

"You love us." You hop to your feet. After a moment of hesitation, you offer Kuroko a hand.

If he's trying, you will too. As long as you're here.

His eyes go wide for a split second. The moment stretches until you're half expecting it to break and cut you, like a rubber band pulled to tight.

His eyes flicker. He sighs and takes your hand.

Kuroko's hands are calloused, and the fact surprises you for some reason. Whenever you look at him, it's like looking at a painting. A photograph of something already faded. Insubstantial.

In that moment you can feel something slot into place in your head.

Kuroko is real.

You pull him up, and there's weight to him. He breathes. He thinks. He… exists.

You let go of his hand like it's burning and you look across the court, up into the beachers, so he can't see your face. The way your eyes have gone wide. Unsure.

A flash of pink out of the corner of your eye.

Your head whips around before you can register it, eyes scan the bleachers, sifting through the crowd like looking for a jewel in the desert.

Nothing.

You look again, eyes narrowed, because you know that shade of pink. You'd never mistake it for anything else.

Why is Momoi here?

"Hana? Whatcha looking at?" Kagami throws his arm over your shoulder and tows you to the court. "Half times over. "

With one last glance over your shoulder, you let him pull you back to the game.

Kuroko is real.

Momoi is here.

The two thoughts circle each other in your head like a snake eating its own tail. You ignore the

Kuroko is real, the way Kise is real, the way Akashi almost was.

That means... you have to expend that little bit of yourself and care what he thinks.

The whistle blows and you cast the referee and annoyed glance. The man flinches back. Can't he see that you're trying to think?

If Momoi is here, why wouldn't she say anything? She's not shy.

Shutouku gets the ball in the toss up this time, just barely outstripping Kagami and the game begins. You follow along with the game, but your mind is miles away.

You move without thinking.

...Should you look for her, after the game?

Inhale.

You duck under Miyaji's guard, breeze past the captain with a spin and take the ball out of Takako's hands.

Dribble once. No exits. The basket is behind you. Someone on your team shouts, but you're too deep in thought to hear them. All voices sound like static in your ears.

Why would she be here?

You fake driving down the middle, then toss the ball, freehand it without looking.

Exhale.

Swish.

Why are you having such a hard time deciding?

You scratch the back of your neck. You'll look. If she doesn't want to see you, she can say so to your face.

Mind made up you nod to yourself, and turn around - to find a deadly hush settled over the gym. Both teams stare at you with wide eyes. The referee still has the whistle pressed to his lips.

You look over your shoulder, to the basketball hoop on the opposite end of the court.

Ah.

A sigh escapes before you can stop it. The shot wasn't even that hard - your attention was gone and you forgot the level your team is playing at. The body you're stuck in at work again.

Midorima looks from you to the basket. "You... just how much are you holding back?" Midorima demands, and his eyes burn. Like he's looking at Akashi.

You look at him and feel yourself go blank, empty out like a water spilling from a palm. It's not surprise. You just... forgot.

How can you not hold back, not out of concern, but because you…you don't want to be relied on. Put yourself on their level, or a bit above, and let that be the end of it. One moment of carelessness, and the both teams stare at you like you're a monster.

It's only basketball - but that's what Midorima and Seirin care about.

You don't look at Seirin, but you don't need to. Midorima's not an idiot because he turns an eye to them too. He snorts. "Someone like you at some no name school? It's a waste of your potential."

"Oi! Quit being a dick," Kagami growls, but you can see the way he's looking at you from the corner of his eyes. An assessing look that seems strange and out of place.

Your shoulders are tense and you don't say anything.

Potential?

Like you care.

"Hana -" Hyuuga falters for the first time you've known him. The rest of the team is quiet.

You look and Kuroko's eyes are ice.

It cuts, in the second before numbness sets in.

It was nice while it lasted.

You look back to the basketball, rolling forgotten on the other end of the court and know that the eyes of the entire room are on you again, and not a single one of them friendly.

Everyone wants something.

Expression slides off your face like something liquid. You pass the other team, feet steady. Take the ball. Pass it to the ref. "Are we playing or not?" You ask.

The man blinks and fumbles for his whistle. "P-point Seirin!"

The teams retreat to their sides but your feet are concrete blocks. You stay where you are, rather than turn around and go back to the team. You don't know what their reaction will be. Rage, for not going all out from the beginning? Betrayl? Fear?

You don't want to find out.

Footsteps behind you. A long shadow over you. Midorima adjusts his glasses, Takao behind him. "I don't know why you're holding back, and I don't care. You will play seriously."

You half glance over your shoulder. Turn back to the open court between you and the hoop, the empty feeling in you throat. "Nah."

Midorima looms over you, like height makes a difference. You faced off with Murasakibara regularly. "Do not insult me like this. Play seriously or - "

"Or what? You'll tell Akashi on me? Not everything is about you, Shin-chan." You step into his shadow, stare him in the eyes. "You want my best? Make me."

Takao looks at you, and his face is amazed. "Holy shit, that's cold."

A moment pases.

Midorima adjusts his glasses, his eyes sharp. "Very well. I shall."

The game starts again, and you wish you were surprised when Midorima's team surrounds you like bodyguards around the prime minister the second your hand touches the ball. You feel like you're being surrounded by a forest of sweaty, smelly boys. You barely come up to shoulder of the shortest one. All you can see is that awful orange of their uniform.

"Nothing personal." Takao lies cheerfully.

"Guess you forgot about the rest of my team." You muse.

Takao's eyes go wide and he spins around - perfect.

You toss the ball up, so high up that it nearly brushes the ceiling, and their eyes follow the ball, like they always do. You don't need to look up - so you duck out of the center - move under the arms, into the open.

When they look back down, you're already gone. Like you said to Kuroko - you know how to lead the eye.

You move back a few steps, not looking up and hold out one hand.

The ball thumps into it. The looks they give you.

You sigh.

Dull.

It doesn't get better. Shutoku tries, puts their all into it - but they lost to Kagami in the manga.

With you there, it's an obvious conclusion. Midorima is good but if he can't get the ball - he can't shoot.

You… don't let him have the ball. He touches it once more, makes a shot, but it's too little, too late.

You look at the scoreboard.

(91 vs 112).

You line up. Shukutoku on one side. Seirin on the other.

Midorima stands opposite you.

It's quiet in the court. The crowd drains out, along with Seirin. You stay behind.

So does Midorima, and Takao hovering behind him.

"Good game, Shin-chan." You say.

Midorima - flinches and Takao glares at you. "Don't - don't call him that, like you're friends or something. Don't act like this game has nothing to do with you. You... did you even try?"

Midorima freezes, looks at Takao with wide eyes - but he doesn't tell him to stop. Midorima turns to you.

"No." You say, to him alone. The truth comes easy to you, sits on your tongue like acid. "Not really."

"You're kidding me." Takao laughs, but not like it's funny. "Oh man. Are you even human?"

The question sits heavy in your throat, like a swallowing a stone and having it get stuck in your throat. The look on Midorima's face is awful. All you feel is tired. Tired of breathing, tired of being awake, tired of being the villain in this narrative.

I didn't ask for this. You think about saying it. Don't.

It's pointless. No one ever listens.

"Would it kill you to at least be happy you won?" Takao asks.

Your shrug is the barest movement of your shoulders. Basketball is pointless. A way to kill time. It isn't fun. It just… is.

Midorima adjusts his glasses. Rubs his eyes. "Takao, enough. She's always been this way." His smile is bitter. "You and Akashi really are perfect for each other. Effortless, overwhelming victory. I just never knew how much. How fitting."

How unfair.

"You... didn't even try." Midorima says, almost to himself. His eyes still stare past your shoulder, toward the hoop. "You never once had put in effort. Not in Teikou. Not now. Not for anything. I did everything I could." He looks down at the glass sculpture. "It still wasn't enough."

You hear those words like he's down a long tunnel, or you stand behind a glass wall. Distant. Nothing he says reaches inside you. You're empty, you are bloodless as a stone, you are gone. No pity.

Midorima looks and you and his smile is so bitter. "I've lost."

Your lungs feel heavy. "Ah."

"That's all you have to say?"

You look at him. "I don't know what you want to hear."

How long has he practiced? How much blood has he shed over it?

You understand. You know.

Winning, losing, teams, people. You don't care. Basketball might as well be a word on the wind to you.

His face crumples. "It's not fair."

You look at Midorima. Than away to the team, pretending not to listen behind him, everyone of them ready to step in for him, no matter how annoying he is. You can feel their stares in the back of your throat.

Midorima already found his place.

"The world's not fair," Your voice sounds cold even to you, like a piece of your dreams broke off to live in your mouth.

"Don't call him that." Anger honed to a cutting edge.

Fine.

It's not like the two of your were really friends in the first place. Can't lose what you never had. The thought is quiet, tinged with exhaustion. Your eyes feel like weighted stones.

"Later, Midorima." You turn, and pause. Seirin stares at you, changed out of their jerseys. Kagami's mouth is twisted into a scowl.

You meet Kuroko's wide eyes. Think about hating him. Think about screaming. Think about feeling.

Instead, you let your eyes slide off him for the first time you've met him. He vanishes from your sight like mist in the sun.

Kagami takes a step forward. "Hana- "

"Coach." You say, because you're not interested in getting a lecture about sportsmanship or the power of friendship. You're fucking sick of basketball. "I'm going home. I'll be back tomorrow."

If she says anything to that you don't hear it. You brush past them and out into the city streets before anyone can talk to you. Violince crawls up your spine until your teeth ache with it.

You head for the seedier part of town.

You need to let off some steam.

technically momoi was in this chapter? (ducks back behind cover)

up next: Midorima pov