solemness: dignified seriousness; possessing an air of gravity.
By the time winter break ended, Eru had yet to gather up enough courage to confront Seijuro. She supposed that there was something fundamentally terrifying about confronting your closest friend. For someone who struggled so hard to approach others, she wasn't at all inclined to risk losing him. In her heart, he remained on a pedestal far above everyone else; he was the kind of special that she reckoned she wouldn't ever have the fortune of encountering again.
The spring breeze rustled through her brown curls as she waited patiently by the front entrance of the campus. In the first few days since the term had begun, the weather had been especially conducive for easing her back into the mundane routine of school life. The harsh winds and chilly air of winter had died down, making way for the growth of flora and emergence of wildlife once more. Already, the grass was gradually coating the ground where it was once covered in snow, and the birds were building their nests in preparation for the mating season. Even as the wave of peace washed over her, she noticed a familiar head of crimson hair headed in her direction. Unbeknownst to her, a smile had instantly crossed her face.
"Seijuro," she greeted, as he approached her. "Let's go."
The brief, curt nod that was directed to her was already becoming a familiar response. The difference in his gait was also clear: while he had always possessed an air of confidence, now it seemed closer to arrogance than anything. From the match against Murasakibara after the Nationals, Seijuro's eyes had permanently adopted a cold, hardened glint; his once gentle smile was replaced by the makings of a superior smirk, and his comforting voice had a cutting tone beneath.
Of course, the degree of change was not so prominent with her than it was with their other schoolmates. The respect that he held them with before had vanished, leaving a strangely condescending form of approval when he surveyed their success – as if it could all be attributed to him. It was especially obvious when she saw his interactions with Kuroko; the camaraderie that had formed over a mutual care and passion for the team seemed to have dissipated, only to leave behind a mere shell of what it used to be.
His fingers brushed lightly against hers; it was something that had become increasingly common due to their proximity, almost as if there was a force between them that made her inadvertently gravitate towards him. While the new him felt rather like winter – icy and distant, sometimes to the point that it was unbearable – the heat from his fingertips reminded her of the warmth that lingered beneath his cold exterior. Seijuro's touch always sent inexplicable tingles down her spine, as if her body was actively trying to signal the connection to him. When his eyes met hers, they softened imperceptibly, and she could almost see the ice cracking to reveal the gentle beauty that lay within – the Seijuro she knew.
Sometimes, in the rare moments that he allowed his mind to drift aimlessly, Seijuro found himself inadvertently thinking of Eru. It was rather inconvenient at times, and it definitely did little to help his efficiency; but in those short-lived instances, he felt the warmth that only she had ever been able to make him feel so intensely. He supposed he did not really feel significantly different from before, even if his outward treatment of others and management of people differed greatly. At the end of the day, it was as his father said. Victory would always be the most important, and he guessed he did not have much of a choice other than to win.
"You should smile more," her voice interrupted his thought process, "I like you better with a smile on your face." The sincerity in her request nearly caught him off-guard, and the small smile on his face widened despite himself. The answering mirth that tinged her expression was worth it all.
When he was with her, it was like he had already won.
The sky was darkening when Seijuro dismissed the first string from practice. It was particularly gruelling session, with the same kind of fierce intensity that had slowly started to edge into their practices ever since the Nationals. Aomine had failed to turn up ever since they had emerged victorious in the Nationals; Murasakibara had followed his lead. As their manager, she believed it to be her responsibility to encourage them to come regularly, but it seemed that even the goodwill established over two years of friendship was insufficient in persuading them.
Still, she was grateful for Midorima's commitment, Kise's enthusiasm, Kuroko's passion and of course, Seijuro's direction. Without them, the lack of enthusiasm would have taken over, and the first string would likely have dissolved by now. Moments like this, Eru questioned the priorities of the team and its toxic culture; while winning was certainly gratifying, surely it was not worth losing this level of camaraderie.
A small sigh escaped her lips as she pushed open the door to the clubroom. It was dark, save for the dim glow of the perimeter lights filtering through the window. Seijuro had not yet returned to retrieve his belongings, presumably because he was caught up with the rest of the teammates. It wasn't the first time it happened, and it was slowly becoming the norm. Ever since the inexplicable, drastic shift in his character, he had become more controlling, and his recent behavioural patterns seemed to suggest that he found it necessary to make sure that he knew exactly what each member was doing before he could take his leave. She hurriedly arranged the stray sheets of paper and straightened up the room, before retrieving both of their school bags and locking the door behind her.
There was a faint light still emanating from the gym, just as she had expected, and she quickened her footsteps in hope that she could still offer some help. As she neared the entrance, she heard a familiar impassive voice speaking indistinctly, before Seijuro's confident voice cut through it.
"I have not changed at all. There were two of me to begin with. It was merely a swap between us."
There was silence between Kuroko and Seijuro, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine at the coldness of his words. Although she had seen the shift in his personality quite clearly, she never thought it was something acknowledged – or even as deliberate as he made it sound. She heard the sound of footsteps approaching, before emerged briskly from the gym.
"Let's go back Eru. I apologise if I kept you waiting for long." He reached out for his belongings and motioned for her to follow behind. She remained one step behind him for the entire journey.
She had waited eagerly for the cherry blossoms all winter, and her patience was rewarded by the first sightings of pink petals early that morning. Like most days, she made sure to leave the house before either of her parents awoke. The quaint café that she frequented for breakfast was already alive with the tantalising scent of freshly-baked bread and ground coffee beans. After she made her purchases – a latte and a slice of thick buttered-toast – she settled down in a corner of the room and allowed herself to relax.
In these little pockets of peace and quiet, she couldn't help but allow her mind to drift to him. She supposed this stemmed from her worry for him and his mental well-being, not so much anything else in particular. On the bright side, it proved to be a good distraction from alternative trains of thought; worrying about him was far better than worrying about herself.
Taking the final bite of the warm toast, Eru briskly dusted the crumbs off her skirt and exited the café. The walk to Teiko was one she always enjoyed, more so now that the vibrant beginnings of cherry blossoms could be seen. The gentle spring breeze ruffled her dark hair lightly, carrying the fragrant aroma of the blooming flowers and filling the air with a pleasant scent. She could almost feel the tension leave her shoulders as she moved further from her home; school had felt like an escape ever since her parents became difficult to deal with. A tiny smile graced her lips, that could very well have been the greatest understatement of her life.
From a distance, she could already see Seijuro waiting patiently by the school gates for her arrival. The warm smile that she once found familiar was now tinged with a layer of ice. Still, an uncontained grin spread across her face, and she could not explain the rush of warmth as she quickened her footsteps towards him. In that moment, she simply knew.
The thing about falling someone was that it was not an explicit, immediate sensation, but a gradual understanding that you were falling. When you fell for best friend, there was still the odd rush of anticipation and excitement, but it was balanced by a unique peace that was established by two closely-connected individuals. And, perhaps that was how it was between herself and Seijuro – two connected people sharing a mutual understanding that was built on love and care.
She stood in front of him and felt the warmth when his fingers reached out towards hers and he pulled her into an unexpected hug. How paradoxical; maybe being with him like this simply showed how nothing had changed, even when everything had.
To Seijuro, nothing had really changed. He still cared for his team, just in a different way; the things he said were things he sometimes felt even before. After all, there had always been two of him, and it was simply a swap.
The team was stronger than ever, even if Atsushi and Daiki had stopped attending practice regularly. With their amount of raw talent and natural ability, being able to coordinate and work well together was secondary, especially if it could potentially compromise their individual skills. He had groomed the Generation of Miracles to their current level, and he was certainly not about to allow petty things like teamwork to come in the way of their victory.
Winning was everything, after all.
His attitude towards her did not deviate entirely from the norm. She supposed that he was distinctly different from the patient gentleman he was before, but there were moments that she noticed slivers of his old self in the way that he treated her. It was terrifying all the same, especially when she felt sudden bouts of coldness exuding from him; it was the kind of chill that permeated her heart and made its home there, a constant reminder that he was hardly the same person as he was before. But, just like winter, she hoped that gradually acclimatising herself to the iciness would eventually allow her to appreciate the subtle beauty that came with who Seijuro had become. It was just a matter of time before it all became clear, it had to be.
Like most spring afternoons, the sky was painted a brilliant blue with only a few thin streaks of clouds interrupting the wide expanse. Eru rested her arms on the classroom's windowsill, enjoying the unique peace that could only be felt at certain points in the year – when the flowers released their fragrance, and the students had long filtered out of the school gates, and all was silent except for the quiet rustling of curtains against the window. She had stayed back to complete her assignments while waiting for Seijuro to consult the basketball club's advisor regarding the status of the team; he had told her that she was not necessary – perhaps more tactfully, but the message was clear. A soft sigh escaped her lips and was immediately lost in the serenity found outside the window.
"Eru, let's go home," he called out, and she was almost taken aback by the gentleness in his voice that simultaneously felt familiar, yet totally alien. He stood smiling by the doorway, and in that moment, she almost fooled herself into believing that everything had reverted to normal. If she were to be completely honest with herself, sometimes she was unsure if these situations made her feel worse – to be faced with the constant reminder of his past self, before she was forced to confront the bitter reality as soon as the moment passed. She hated the surge of hope that coursed through her when she pictured his genuine smile and his gentleness towards her.
Lightly, he touched her arm, before offering to take her belongings. When her gaze met his, she found no trace of the iciness that she had grown accustomed to. Sometimes she thought that the only times a glimpse of his old self emerged was when he was together with her.
"I'll walk you back." He turned and held the door open for her to walk past him. This time, they walked side by side the whole way home.
A/N: to be honest, I'm complete trash because it has been such a long while since I last updated. I guess part of me didn't really have the mood to write because I had a lot of school-related essays to complete, but I hope that this chapter is to your liking nonetheless! Will always appreciate feedback :-)
