Title: Broken Wings
Author: RK Otaku
Genre: Drama
Rating: K+
Summary: Could the one with broken wings ever learn to fly? Murakami's POV. One shot drabble.
Disclaimer: Wild Striker entirely belongs to Takahashi Yoichi. I do not make any monetary profit from writing fanfiction.
The fish raced across the stream, the sun glinting off their glistening backs, blinding his eyes for an infinitesimal second. He sighed and dipped the fishing pole into the swirling water once more, closing his eyes and sinking back into his former reverie.
The boys' shouts filtered into the lull that surrounded his senses, as they practiced nearby. The rough scrape of the spiked shoes grazing on the hard ground, the gentle rasp of the grass as legs tangled together on the grass in a fierce battle- sounds that he had long since committed to his consciousness.
Even through the heat of the afternoon sun, he could feel Mori's eyes lingering on him. His disapproving gaze seemed to burn holes at the back of his jacket. His lips curved in a slight grin. And I thought only Kanou resorted to such tactics. Insisting that he watch the boys play. Advise them on the intricacies of the game. Turn them into model soccer players that the school could be proud of.
But he didn't care.
The injury had seen to it.
That he'd never feel the rush of the wind on his face as he raced the defenders by. Never hear the roar of the crowd in his ears, his heart hammering with the triumph of success after a conquest. Never be able to saunter through the lockers wearing a cocky grin, as his teammates cracked bawdy jokes at his expense.
Never again.
The endless whirl of press conferences, public appearances, the fame, the fans, the screaming girls… The loud karaoke sessions where all his teammates ended up drunk with alarming regularity, and singing sailors' songs till the owner threw them out. They were so endearingly familiar, yet so out of reach.
He missed them. His fingers tightened on his fishing pole, his knuckles a white hue. Goddammit, he missed them, and wasn't a bit ashamed to admit it. He mentally grimaced. Never thought I'd get all sentimental like an old man with a sake jug.
But it was still the truth. He'd give up anything to be there, to live that life once more. To go back to the time where he greeted the day before the sun did, just sitting on his bed and anticipating a new challenge. Reliving the thrill that coursed through him till finally, tragically his dreams had shattered, as easily as the delicate splintering of glass.
He was like a crippled bird, clipped of his wings, thrashing at the confines of this world begging to be let out.
Could he ever fly again? Could the one with broken wings soar the endless skies?
Then suddenly-
"Oi, Kanou. Quit standing there like a scarecrow and get on with it, man!"
Sometimes, realizations come after days of deep thinking, like the inevitable sun dawning upon a fresh day. Sometimes they strike as suddenly as a summer shower, leaving us in wonder at the simple ingenuity of them. But sometimes, just sometimes, they flash past our mind at a predestined moment, until we realize that we've known it all along.
It was then Coach Murakami learnt that on the wings of the boys' dreams, their hopes, and their wishes; that he could fly again.
OWARI.
Author's Note: My immediate thoughts when I started to write this fic were, 'Man, it's really difficult getting into Murakami's head'. Guess it must be hard to coach youngsters when you've got a prematurely broken career at your feet due to an aggravated injury. The concept appealed to me a lot as I think he is one of the most complex people in the anime. My first impression of him as a swinging old bachelor gradually faded out, from the time when he occasionally started dropping his easy- going ways to offer advice to the Cocky Trio.
Any reviews/ comments are highly appreciated!