"You know that I could be in love with almost everyone.
I think that people are the greatest fun.
And I will be alone again tonight, my dear."
Alone Again Or, song by Love
Alone Again Or
"You look down."
"Aa."
"Because of Rukawa?"
"What else?"
Sendoh tilted his glass, and the ice clicked against the side. A cold, hollow noise. What else?
"He'll come back."
Sendoh watched the way the condensation formed into beads, trickling down the surface from where his fingers touched. "I don't think he will," he said with finality. "He's gone."
Koshino lifted a hand and gestured to the bar tender. Two shots. Neat.
"You don't normally drink," he pointed out, eyeing Sendoh from the corner of his eye.
"Never needed to," Sendoh smirked bitterly, an odd expression on his usually calm and confident face.
"A life without worries," Koshino considered. "How charmed."
Sendoh sipped his drink and stared forward at the wall. He said nothing.
Koshino sighed.
"I received an email from him," Sendoh said unexpectedly. "From America."
"What did it say?"
"I don't know. I didn't read it."
"Why not?"
Sendoh thought for a moment. "What do you think it will say?"
Koshino made a face. "Well, I don't know. Isn't that the point of reading it?"
Sendoh put his glass down with a click. "Do you think it will say what I want it to say?"
"That depends. What do you want it to say?"
"I want it to say, I'm grateful for the time we spent together. I want it to say I'm sorry that I hurt you. I want it to say, You mean something to me. I care about you." He stopped. Then he looked at Koshino. "Do you think it will say that?"
Koshino hesitated. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "No," he acknowledged. "I... guess not."
"No," Sendoh agreed, nodding. "I guess not."
"Well, you know," Koshino frowned. "It's... Rukawa."
Sendoh nodded again. "Right."
"He was never very, you know, expressive."
"I know."
"But that doesn't necessarily mean that... he doesn't care."
There was silence.
"Do you know the saying: actions speak louder than words?" Sendoh asked.
"Mmm," Koshino acknowledged reluctantly, tipping his head.
Sendoh said nothing for a long time, leaving the phrase just hanging between them.
Koshino turned back to the bar, picked up the first shot, and downed it. He gasped as the alcohol burned his throat. He was half regretting having stepped into Sendoh Akira's bubble of depression. But Sendoh was his friend. So he tried to think of something to say.
"You guys always seemed close," he pointed out. "You were good friends, I thought."
Sendoh frowned deeply. "Not really. I was the one who refused to leave him alone." He shook his head. "He didn't want me around. But still I... I really liked him. So much." He gave a sigh. "I convinced myself that we were friends. But, we weren't. Not really. I was just an annoyance to him." He paused, and gripped his glass a little tighter. "I fell in love with someone who only tolerated me. Now I'm empty."
"It won't be forever," Koshino pointed out consolingly. "Sooner or later, it fades."
"I know," Sendoh pressed his lips together. "The faster the better, I suppose."
Koshino lifted one hand. "You should come back to the team," he said. "Come and play with us. It will take your mind off all this. We need you. You're strong. You're Sendoh Akira, for goodness sakes."
Sendoh gave a small scoff. He ran his fingers over the worn surface of the bar. Every finger was buckled and broken. Calloused hands reflecting years of practise. His shoulders slumped. "I can't. Everything makes me think of him. I can't go back. I can't move forward. Everything I've ever achieved seems so pointless now."
"But basketball is your dream," Koshino argued. "It's what you love. You can't give up. Don't let some no-good fox take your passion away from you."
Sendoh didn't reply. It had always been dangerous to mix his love for Rukawa Kaede and his love for basketball. Well, it was done now. He could no longer take a single step. Could not keep fighting for a relationship that only he had wanted. Could not let go of it, either. Could not find himself, or return to what he had once been. Everything he had once had pride in seemed so insufficient and ugly. Nothing was good enough.
He'd never felt so worthless.
And he doubted that Rukawa spared him a single thought. Not then. Not now.
He'd known the risk but he'd ignored all the warnings. He'd thought he could handle it, but in reality he'd had no control at all. He'd let himself be hurt out of his own stupidity.
He huddled over his drink in silence, feeling half collapsed.
Not really knowing what to say, Koshino opened and closed his mouth ineffectually. As if there might be something to make it better, if only he could say it just right.
"I can't go back to the team, Hiroaki," Sendoh admitted finally. "I'm ashamed of how I play. Of everything I do. Of the way I feel." He shook his head. "I can't play. It's impossible."
Koshino deflated a little. "Well, did you call him?" he asked reluctantly.
"For what? I already gave him the best I had. Now I can't do anything but accept my failure and let him go." He fingered his glass. "I've got nothing to say to him anyway." He rattled his ice cubes meaningfully. "Empty."
"I doubt that. I know you. You always find things to say. Tell him how you feel about him!"
Sendoh shook his head. "Pointless. He wouldn't care." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "He'll go on ahead. He's talented. He's brilliant." He sighed. "He'll forget about me." He downed his shot and fell back into silence, staring at the empty glasses and Koshino's commiserating face. As if he couldn't understand what he was seeing. As if nothing in the world made any sense at all. He could feel it. A physical pain, in his chest, behind his eyes, right in the middle of his head.
"I meant nothing to him, Hiroaki," he said quietly.
Koshino downed his second shot. Fucking hell, he thought to himself. Aloud, he pleaded, "Ah, come on. It's so weird to hear you talking like this. You'll be fine! You're a silver linings kind of guy. An optimist. You're talented. You're unreasonably lucky. You have friends. You believe in happy endings."
Sendoh didn't seem to hear him.
Koshino turned back to the bar and set his elbows upon the worn, wooden surface. He spoke to the liquor bottles when he said, "You… really loved him, didn't you? That selfish, no-good fox."
Sendoh lowered his eyes. "Mm," he said. Then he curled his hands around his glass and sighed. "I really did."
-the end
I wrote this quite a few months ago. Part of my "season of angst" hahaha.
Keep believing in happy endings!
I wish one for you x