Paint me your heart

Chapter: Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of Slam Dunk whatsoever.

Genre: Romance (kind of)

Ratings: G

Summary: He is all content in his world of basketball, and it would seem cruel to even think of breaching that serenity. OC/Rukawa

PROLOGUE: To begin with an end.

It is autumn, she mused. Maple leaves flapped lightly against the windowpanes, and she could hear the faint beep of the cardiogram in the background. She tried sitting up.

'Dear, what are you trying to do?'

'Okaa-san? I just want to open the window.'

'Whatever for? The cold air will come in, and you know it is not good for your lungs.'

'Okaa-san? Could I have a maple leaf? Just one.'

'Of course, dear, now lie down.'

The door swung open, and she smiled slightly.

My maple leaf.

'It's for you.' He said, holding out a large, beautifully pressed red maple leaf.

'Thank you.' She whispered, feeling the texture of the dried leaf against her fragile fingers.

'Rukawa-san, I have to go now, I trust you would take care of my daughter?'

'Of course. Have a good day.'

She looked at him, never a word. He tried to tell her about school, but realized that it was the same thing that he had told her the day before, and the day before the day before, and before, and before. He found what he sought in his bag – it was a MP3 recorder, and he played it. The voices of their classmates rang out noisily, disturbing the quiescence of the ward. She listened, and laughed weakly at some of the jokes that they had tried to make to cheer her up. His eyes landed on a black book by her bedside. 'May I read it?' He inquired. She smiled softly.

I am visually inclined, and I respond sharp to lines, shapes and colours. The most important thing about me is that I have no immunity against things of beauty whatsoever. This person is obviously good looking…

He flipped on, and on and on. There was something in his eyes, and there was certain tightness in his throat that he could not identify. It was after a while that he realized that the MP3 recorder had stopped playing. There was instead, a constant beep somewhere in the ward.

Her eyes were shut tightly. He thought she was asleep.

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