Kasamatsu again. What can I say, he's awesome. And he just fits everytime I want to have an outside point of view of Seirin.
Also, wow, longest chapter yet. I think it's almost three times as long as the draft form was. Thanks for the reviews, guys!
Summary : Chapter 29: Strength. Somehow, up to now, it's never really sunk in that Kuroko was once part of the Generation of Miracles.
Kasamatsu is an idiot. That's a fact.
With all the times Kise has chattered away about his favorite ex-teammate, he should know, but he doesn't. Somehow, when Kise tells him the school they're having a practice match against has a player that was on his team in middle school, his brain fails to translate that as being part of the famed Generation of Miracles. He knows where all of the five prodigies have gone – he's still smug his team has managed to snatch one up, even though most days he wonders whether it was such a good idea; Kise has, on good days, no sense of teamwork worth speaking of and the attention span of a puppy on a sugar high. Even when Kise waxs lyrical about how Kuroko coached him into the regulars, it still doesn't click (and on hindsight, he wonder whether that's the point he should have started considering brain surgery – Kise isn't helping with his wailings that he can't lose to Kurokocchi again and they have to practice more).
Because Kuroko is strong. Kasamatsu can see that. Seirin are strong – after all they've beaten both Kaijou and Shuutoku. But Kuroko is Seirin's – it's the only place he's ever seen the phantom player. Unlike Kise – who was Teikou's through and through and they had to tear Teikou out of his head and he's damn proud of it, that Kise is now Kise of Kaijou rather than the Generation of Miracles' Kise – Kuroko, whose very existence was questioned during middle school, doesn't have that kind of tie. So Kasamatsu sees Kuroko's strength – and he's crazy strong, to be able to do those invisible passes and that invisible shot and get past Aomine, the ace of the Generation of Miracles – but it doesn't have that flashy, crushing quality that Kise's copies or Midorima's three-pointers or Murasakibara's defence have. So somewhere, in the back of Kasamatsu's mind, they remain separate. Kuroko and the Miracles. The Miracles and Kuroko.
But Kuroko stands on the court with a snarl on his face, looking Akashi full in the eye and daring him, challenging him – and his teammates are trapped, caught in the Emperor Eye, but Kuroko has managed to shut it down – invisible man against all-seeing eye. And Akashi rises to the challenge – with a seriousness Kasamatsu had yet to see on his face.
And maybe for the first time in his life, all eyes are on Kuroko – or rather they're trying to be. Because Kuroko has disappeared – to the ordinary eye, to the Emperor Eye. He's all over the court, stealing every pass, holding, anchoring his teammates who depend utterly on him, the only one able to break free. And Kuroko does break free – of Teikou whom Kasamatsu hadn't even realized until now had been holding him back, of Akashi for Hyuuga whose face holds nothing but the most absolute trust and not a trace of Akashi's condescending smirk, of Aomine for Kagami who passes the ball to him with no hesitation because in this moment Kuroko's the ace – Kuroko's stepped out of the shadows and his light is a furnace, blinding white, bright as any of his former teammates – and Kasamatsu realizes Kuroko is strong.
It was supposed to be very dramatic and epic - but somehow, Kise wrote himself into those bracketing dashes with his whining and jumping up and down and added a dash of humor. You gotta love the guy. And I'm getting infected by Izuki's puns even though I don't understand them half the time.
I think I've beaten a record for the number of dashes per sentence and per paragraph both.
