He watches the courts, enthralled. I can see that he is following the orange ball, his eyes tracing its path as it makes its way down the court. Passed, dribbled, shot; the look on his face is wistful and makes me wonder, if not know, that he wants to join them too.

Swish.

A set of high-fives and a cheer. "Nice shot, Chris! And a three-pointer, too! We're owning them today!" They're playing two-on-two; one team in the lead.

"Hey Jonas, game's not done yet! You'll see, we still got time to beat ya, don't worry!"

"As if!" After another short bout of friendly taunts, they return to their game, and Duo and I resume watching.

"Hey, Heero?" Duo turns to me, that look still in his eyes. I can tell that his hands itch to touch that ball, to feel the adrenaline rush through his veins as he passes through and scores that winning point. I know what he's gonna ask. He wants to be a part of that.

"My god, I just love basketball. It's my favourite sport. You get such a rush from playing it."

"Perhaps."

"How 'bout you, Heero? Don't you like basketball?"

"Well enough, I guess." At least…before, I did.

"…You think they'll mind if I ask them to play?" He asks.

"Probably not. If you want to play, there's no harm in asking."

He beams at me. "That's great!" He rushes off, heading closer to the fence. But, halfway through, he pauses and turns back.

"Do you want me to ask if you can play, too?" He smiles at me, waiting for my answer.

Sighing, I lean back against the tree, and turn away. "Nah, I'm okay. You go on ahead."

"Oh. Well, alright then, if you say so." With that, I can hear his footsteps fall away from me, as he heads towards the courts.

I watch as he chats with them. I can see him as he cracks a joke. The whole group laughs.

They all seem to agree, and pretty soon Duo is right there on the court, too.

All that can be heard is the quiet breathing of the other players. Then, as the ball is thrown, everything starts in a flurry of motion.

A dodge here—a pass there—suddenly, Duo's in possession of the ball, passing through the other side as if they were frozen in time.

He scores. I never even had a chance to blink.

I don't think that those players quite believe what just happened. They glance at him—as if to ask, 'Is he for real?' But instead, they turn back, and prepare to start. They begin again.

And again, he scores. Again does he proves his skill. I watch him in awe, as he completely dominates the courts, grin on his mouth. That glow in his eyes hasn't dimmed a bit. He really does love the game.

I can see him glancing in my direction. I turn to him, questioning look in my eyes.

"Oi, Heero! Betcha I can score a backhand next!"

I stare at him silently, an eyebrow raised. I know that to him, the mild disbelief shows itself plainly on my face. His grin grows wider.

"Just watch and learn." I can see the mischief on his face as he turns away from me to focus back on the game.

I take note of his confidence. His sharp stride, the way he handles the ball with such ease—his movements just scream, "Jock!" But I must admit…I like to watch him. Seeing one enjoying the game so thoroughly to play it his way definitely garners my respect.

I can feel the old tingly feeling in my fingertips. The longing to join him was growing. To think, I might've once been that way…

But no. That was years ago, before…

I can see people packing up, heading back into the building. The bell has already rung, and it is time to return to classes.

Quickly I bid Duo goodbye, and head back.

I've finished researching for my next project. The sun is setting, casting an almost reminiscent glow as I leave the library, my bag heavy with the books I have found. I start to head home, thinking that I have another quiet night ahead of me.

But for some reason, I stop. I look around, and something catches my eye.

The courts.

A single, orange ball has been left inside, beckoning. I suddenly remember the day's game, and the longing I felt at the sight of earnest play.

Dropping my bag at the entrance, I step inside. Gently picking up the ball, I do a few experimental dribbles. I can feel the familiarity returning to my hands with each bounce. After a moment, I position myself, and shoot.

The ball hits the rim before going in. Sloppy.

I wrinkle my nose at this. Where has my accuracy gone? After retrieving the ball, I go again, careful in my aim.

The next basket is a swish. Nodding in satisfaction, I keep on going.

28, 29, 30, 31…baskets in a row. I remember that before, when I was in the right frame of mind, I could keep scoring on-end until dinnertime.

I angle myself for another shot. As the ball leaves my hands, I know that it'll go in.

I see a blur. Then suddenly, the ball is gone, and I am left confused.

I hear dribbling behind me. A quiet chuckle. Turning around, I see that he has stolen the ball, bouncing it while looking at me nonchalantly.

"Lose something, Heero?" I can see that behind his cool façade, he loves to tease. "I knew that you liked basketball."

I shrugged. "Lucky guess. Besides, it's been a while since I played. I'm only shooting hoops today cuz someone left their ball behind, and I finished my homework in the library."

"Oh?" He throws it back to me, grinning. "Then I guess you wouldn't mind playing a game of one-on-one with me?" Duo crosses his arms, waiting for my response.

I find myself to be reluctant. It's been such a long time since I've played with someone else…and such a long time since someone's let me.

He sees my hesitation, and raises an eyebrow at me. "What, you scared? Come on, bring it!"

His spark of enthusiasm convinces me. If he didn't want to play with me, he wouldn't have asked.

Exploding in a rush of motion, I aim for my target: the hoops. I discover that his guard is like a brick wall: impenetrable, and everywhere at once.

It's great.

Panting, I look up at the clouds. The sun had set long ago; only traces of its light can be seen, the stars slowly becoming evident in the darkening skies. I smile.

I hear his breathing next to me. It was an intense game, both sides evenly matched. But of course, its been a while, so my skills aren't as honed as his. He won, by one point.

"Great game," he says. Turning his body to face me, he beams. "Gee, Heero! Where'd you learn to play like that? You're good enough to be on the team! Why aren't you?"

I can feel my face fall. I had almost forgotten, but his words bind me. Still, I want him to know the truth. He seems so unbiased; perhaps he will listen to me.

He looks concerned. I realize that the expression on my face is almost pained, as I relive my experiences.

"Heero? Are you alright? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's cool."

I shake my head. "You deserve to know." Making up my mind, I decide to tell him.

I can feel the last bits of light drain from the skies above, as the darkness brought by the night settles heavily around us.