Author's Note: Quick note that this chapter takes place during the anime, which is why some scenes may seem cut off and vague on their own. But it takes place during the Hanamiya/Kirisaki Daiichi arc when Kiyoshi and Hanamiya run into each other in the hallway. (Maybe run into isn't the word-it's clearly Hanamiya's intent to speak with Kiyoshi.)

Sorry for the delayed update, next week's update won't be until Monday or Tuesday so it will also be delayed. Very busy right now so not much time to write. As for the question about Tomoe's appearance-she does have a striking resemblance to Kurumi Tosaki from Date A Live, sadly I haven't seen the anime and I didn't know about the character before it was mentioned. But they do look similar. ;3

Thanks for reading and as always, please enjoy!

rid of the monsters inside your head

put all your faults to bed

you can be king again

twenty one

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, I've said too much." Hanamiya smirks as he lifts himself off the bench. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he starts toward Kiyoshi. "You play Shuutoku next, right? Good luck. I'm really rooting for you." Each word is laced with sarcasm, dripping like acid despite his sugary sweet tone.

Hidden behind the corner in an adjacent hallway, Tomoe clutches tightly at the fabric of her skirt. Her fingers curl into tight fists as she clenches her jaw, holding back her anger. This confrontation was inevitable, and not nearly as bad as she might have feared. But Hanamiya's taunting is too much.

Kiyoshi seems to be struggling with it himself, a mix of emotions contorting his face as he spins around and starts to charge after Hanamiya. Now that they are in the hallway over, it grows more difficult to hear them—and yet Hanamiya's voice still reverberates through the emptiness as though he wants her to hear him.

"Oh, by the way. I hope your injuries heal quickly. Because I'm worried about you."

Muffled footsteps echo quietly until they disappearing entirely. A silence falls over the hallway, and Tomoe struggles with whether or not to approach Kiyoshi. Since the start of Winter Cup she has made an earnest effort to keep tabs on Hanamiya. She had hoped to prevent an encounter like this before their game.

But it was inevitable, she realizes. Hanamiya would not let it go without saying something spiteful and unnerving. The surface of his words give off the impression of a concerned rival, but both she and Kiyoshi know much better than that.

Her hands are wringing her skirt so tightly that her knuckles have gone white, which she only realizes when she feels gentle fingers coaxing her to loosen her grip. Startled, she looks up to see Kiyoshi smiling uneasily at her.

"You overheard."

It's a struggle to swallow, and even more difficult to speak. She eventually settles for a shaky nod. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop." Tomoe hesitates before addressing the other concern on her mind. "How is your knee holding up?"

He squeezes her hands in his. "You don't have to worry, I'm holding up just fine." That's definitely got to be a lie. The fact that Hanamiya brought it up means that he must have noticed Kiyoshi favoring his other leg—or that he was grimacing on the court. There had to have been something. It wasn't just a bluff. "Oh, you have a wrinkle right here. If you keep it up, your face will get stuck like that." He pokes and prods at her forehead to make his point.

"I get it," she says with a sigh, batting his hand away quickly. "I'll stop worrying about you. Just as long as you're careful. Being up against Shutoku will be a real test of Seirin's strength. Don't you dare push yourself, Teppei."

He chuckles nervously, as though she's already hit the nail on the head—he's not the type to heed her advice. It's within Kiyoshi's nature to push himself even to his own detriment.

"I know what that laugh means—it means that no matter what I say, you'll do it anyways." Her gaze drifts to the floor, and a sadness resides in her eyes. Not because she begrudges Kiyoshi for ignoring her advice. It's the helplessness of sitting on the sidelines, of being unable to do anything.

Fingers caress her temple as Kiyoshi tucks a few flyaway strands behind her ear. "Just two more games until it's over." It's empty reassurance, but she knows that he's trying. And the fact is that he has enough on his plate without having to cheer her up.

Forcing a smile on, she pokes him in the abdomen. "Hey, you should get back to your team. Quit doting on me so much. I'll be in the stands watching your next game like always. I trust you to be careful and not push yourself. I might really swing a punch at you if you ignore that advice, okay?"

"Hm... I think a punch from you would hurt," he says thoughtfully with a frown.

"Of course a punch would hurt."

"Well, it shouldn't be as bad as—"

"Don't compare me to your coach," she cuts him off before he can say it. Tomoe is already keenly aware of just how vicious Riko can be with her players. But she's also incredibly talented and caring. Tomoe holds a lot of respect for her. "Now get going."

He smiles, and before he leaves, he pats her on the head—tousling her hair as he usually does before taking off. There are no parting words, because there's no need for them. They will see each other soon enough—even though he will be on the court, and she in the stands.

Once he has left, she starts in the direction that Hanamiya disappeared off to. And almost as soon as she rounds the corner, she bumps headlong into something—it feels akin to a brick wall. Yet while she starts to stumble backward, a hand quickly grabs her by her elbow, steadying her.

That icy grip is enough for her to realize just who it is that has "helped" her. A chill runs down her spine as she peers up into his face. "So you were still here."

"Eavesdropping isn't my habit, but I did know you were listening earlier. So I waited for you," he confesses with a smirk and a shrug. Strangely, the outright hatred that was present in their last encounter seems to have all but disappeared. He's back to his usual antagonistic spiel.

"How kind of you," she says facetiously.

"Your birthday is coming up soon." It's an out-of-the-blue mention.

Quizzical, she stares up at him through narrowed eyes. "Yeah, it is..."

"I'll be interested in seeing how you celebrate with a broken boyfriend." He smiles unpleasantly, his grip on her elbow tightening a small fraction before he ultimately releases her. Stepping back, he puts some distance between them before turning on his heel.

Tomoe stares after him. Her chest aches, and she finds herself mumbling bitterly, "I wanted to spend it with you..."

—

In the wake of the anticipated game, Tomoe loiters at the front entrance—watching the other teams and the crowd spill out from the gaping doors. The reaction among them is mixed, but certainly the excitement from the intense game lingers. But where other people are smiling and engaging in light-hearted banter about the resulting tie, Tomoe wears a grave expression on her face.

She is wringing her hands as she waits, occasionally pausing to glance at the screen of her phone. But it hasn't vibrated once to signal an incoming message. She's starting to grow antsy waiting for Kiyoshi. Watching him in the game, she could tell that Hanamiya's assessment about Kiyoshi's knee had been all too accurate. It's still causing him pain.

Her grip tightens on the phone, and she debates whether or not to send a message. But just as she starts to type one out, she receives an incoming one from Kiyoshi.

'Sorry, I'll be a little late coming out.'

That worries her. Is it because he was really injured? Is he receiving treatment now, is that why? Or why would he be delayed? There is no doubt in her mind that her anxiety is the result of the earlier confrontation with Hanamiya.

Her eyes strain as she scans the area now that it has emptied, but she sees no one from the Seirin team to even ask. Just as her heart starts to sink, and she turns her gaze outside, she feels a hand on her shoulder—and the gentle, secure grip tells her immediately who it is. A wave of relief sweeps over her.

"I said I would punch you," she says as she rounds on him.

"I really don't want to be punched." It almost sounds like he's sulking. But despite that, he is still smiling at her, completely unabashed. "I already got a mouthful from my captain."

"That's not enough. You probably still didn't listen to him." A guilty look crosses Kiyoshi's face at her accusation, and Tomoe can instantly tell that she hit the nail on the head. Exasperated, she firmly crosses her arms over her chest. "That's just like you..."

"We should get going," he says, changing the subject. "You're going to come eat dinner with my grandparents and me, right?"

"Maybe I should tell them how reckless their grandson is." With almost a huff, she turns and starts out the door with Kiyoshi quickening his pace in order to catch up to her. But although she's pouting, Tomoe does slow down a bit—conscious of causing any further strain to his knee.

"You'll really put me in a tough spot then."

As they walk, she can feel his fingers grazing the back of her hand—which is currently in a fist, thanks to the frustration that he has caused her. It's also the only form of punishment she can give him. But the more he prods her, the weaker her willpower becomes until at least she acquiesces. They end up holding hands the rest of the way to his house, with Kiyoshi grinning stupidly the whole time.

It's actually her first time going to his house, and she can feel herself growing nervous. There is perspiration on the palm of her hand, and she doesn't doubt that he has noticed how clammy she has become.

But if he does, Kiyoshi says nothing to her about it. He just glances over occasionally and smiles, giving her hand a squeeze. It's his silent support that keeps her legs moving, even when she would normally be paralyzed by her own anxiety.

"I'm surprised your grandparents don't come watch you play," she voices finally, once the thought has occurred to her.

"Mm..." He sounds a little dejected himself. "They have to work, so it can't be helped. I don't mind that they can't come—their support is more than enough." That seems like a half-hearted truth, because she can tell that he would like for them to see. Yet at the same time, with the condition of his knee, it's also true that he probably doesn't want them to worry about him more.

"Is this it?" she interrupts when she realizes they have stopped. It's a modest abode surrounded by a decaying brick fence. But by all considerations, it has a comfortable air to it. She can tell as soon as they have stepped into the yard together—it has a lot of memories in it.

"I hope you're not too disappointed," Kiyoshi says sheepishly as he finally releases her hand in order to open the front door for her.

The moment she steps inside, the air is filled with the tantalizing scent of something simmering on the stove. She is pretty sure she catches a whiff of curry as they walk together to the dining room, having removed their shoes.

"Glad you could make it, Tomoe-chan," his grandmother greets with a toothy smile.

The familiarity is a little startling at first, and Tomoe gives a questioning glance to Kiyoshi. He seems to be avoiding her gaze, however.

As though to fill in the details, his grandmother explains, "He talks about you all the time."

"You do?" she gasps, her eyes still fixated on him—although since he's turning himself away from her, she can see little more than his ears, which have turned red.

"Ah~ I might have said a few things," he says with a nervous laugh.

"W-what did you say?"

"Only good things." His grandmother motions toward the table. "Won't do you both take a seat together? The foods almost done. My husband should be home soon—" As though on cue, her sentence is cut off by the sound of the front door opening.

"An extra pair of shoes?" a voice gasps from the entrance, followed by subsequent echo of heavy footsteps that only end when an elderly man pops into the kitchen, peering around the corner with a look of disbelief the moment he spots Tomoe. "T-Teppei got a girlfriend..."

"Oh, I'm not—" she tries to nervously dismiss that, afraid that the second the older man sees the scar on her face, he may recoil. But on the contrary, while his eyes do seem to land on that area of her face, they do not linger there.

Instead, his thin, pale lips come together in a smile. "And she's very pretty, too. Teppei, you did good!"

"She's also very kind and modest," Teppei's grandmother pipes in.

"No, I'm really not—"

A heavy hand presses down on the top of her head, ruffling her hair. "She really is," Kiyoshi agrees with a chuckle.