My favorite things to watch are my former teammates. I don't know why, but the way they play has never been paralleled by any other athlete I've seen. There is nothing that speaks to me more. Somehow, though, with this game, all I want to do is look away. To see Tetsuya, Daiki, and Kagami all pushing themselves is going to destroy what remains of my heart. I don't know why this game in particular is so painful, but I just want to stop it. I can't bare to watch something like this. The scoreboard speaks for itself. Seirin will fold beneath the foundations I have set. There is nothing more to do.
I'm glad that I'm off the court, and although it'll never show, Daiki was able to tell the moment we made eye contact. There's something off, though. Something isn't right. My eyes aren't focusing properly. My body is late to move, slow to react, and my mind is too hazy to allow me to comprehend what I'm seeing. I'm starting to regret taking on two sports at once, but there's nothing I can say to complain. It was my decision, after all. There's nothing wrong with feeling tired, right?
My breathing hasn't returned to normal yet, but I have ceased to sweat. It's more than possible that I can just sleep this off and everything will return to normal. I just have to make sure that nobody notices anything.
It feels like I'm fighting to control myself. There's a part of me that's about to fly back into the game regardless of the rules, and there's a part of me trying to claw my way out of the Zone. Everything comes into focus within a few seconds. I'm stuck. I'm stuck in the Zone. What can I do to escape this? I thought I knew these waters well, but could it be that I've forgotten how to swim them?
Satsuki is the first to notice that things on my end have gone awry. All I want is the feel of a basketball beneath my fingertips, and the swish of the net to follow my every throw. It's far too much to ask, but it's all that I want. I hope that Seijuurou won't know of this, and that Tetsuya, bless that kid, won't notice. At Teiko, when this happened, he was one of the only people to tug me free. My chest constricts once more.
The third quarter is done fairly quickly, although it seems to be paining Seirin. I feel for them. This game is paining me, too, in multiple ways. "Oi, Alex." Daiki says, his hand tugging at my ponytail. "You've been staring at the same spot for the entire third quarter." How has someone as obtuse as this blue-haired wonder noticed something like that? I nod wordlessly and hope that he doesn't think of anything else to say. I don't have the heart to pull myself together. For all my talk of willpower, of effort over talent, I have nothing to back it up when I need it. I am a hypocrite, after all. Disappointment taints my blood blue.
"Hai-chan, we'll put you back in." What is Satsuki doing, telling me something like this? Doesn't she know that Seirin will splinter and shatter like broken glass if Daiki and I both play? Doesn't she know that I can't stand to see defeat in other people's eyes? I hate competition.
It takes a few moments to push myself off the bench. The Zone is starting to drag me down to depths unknown. The throbbing of my heart does nothing but push me deeper to where emotions no longer exist. I am nothing but a player to push around, so tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Consequences no longer matter. If this is what it takes to win, then I'll have to do it. The sooner this game ends, the faster it passes, then the better off I am. I just need to wear myself out of the Zone and back into normal play.
Why am I cursed with a Zone like this? It always lasts too long, likely from running for seven inning games. I can't break free until the game is over. I'll just have to get this over with as quickly as possible.
I still can't tell who is playing and who is not. The only things I recognize are jerseys. Black jerseys are ones I stay closer to, and white jerseys I do nothing but pass. The ball is less alien now. I know it better than the back of my own hand. I just hope that I'll wear out soon, that this Zone will pass and I'll just sleep off the rest of the game in a pleasant, dreamless state. I want rest. Cut me some slack, ya know? My insides feel like they're being crushed.
All seems to be fine until a shrieking pain begins to run up the side of my leg. Will the Zone refuse to relinquish me even in this state? I can play through pain, but it doesn't make anything any better. If anything, I'm more likely to lose my temper. It's my job to keep silent, though. There's no need for me to say anything. Not yet. Not now. I need to ride this out and endure until things sort themselves out.
I'm so close, so very close to grasping normal play, when the shrieking starts to dissolve. I think it's a good thing. I hope that it's a good thing. I have no indication either way what's going on, but I have no complaints so far. Things go too far suddenly. I'm jumping, competing with that oh so familiar redhead, when things fall apart. My landing is shaky. My leg can no longer bear the weight of my body, and the strain of running is too much. It falls beneath me, unsavory and badly timed like it always is. Sei's going to be furious with me.
There's a low running whimper escaping my clenched teeth. I can't get up from my half-kneeling position. Why is it that even with my brace I fall victim to my own body? Normal play is back. The Zone is gone, and I can recognize Tetsuya trying to tell me something important. I'm crap at reading lips, but he's close and saying it softly as he helps me up. My eyes widen, my lips part, and I reply in turn, quiet and hopefully undetected. "Hai-chan!" Satsuki says as the ref calls a time-out. "Are you okay?"
I tug my lips into the most convincing smile I can offer. "Of course. Give me the second one and it'll be fine." Does Satsuki know that I'm slowly destroying myself? Does she know that I don't know how to stop? It's probably a no since she hurries to hand me my second brace. I won't last much longer in this game, but I'm happy that we're at least halfway through the fourth quarter.
My play style is flexible. Daiki is back on the court, and I'm resorting to mimicking Tetsu's misdirection. I can't be invisible, that's for sure, but I can pass parts of it onto Daiki by capturing the others' attention. It's easy. All I need to do is keep up and everything will be fine.
In the back of my mind, I wonder why I'm still on the court. What do I have to gain from this? But I can't let him down. No, I definitely can't let him down. It's a basic part of my personality to seek to please others. I'm fine with the way things are. Four minutes and I will be free of this game. It's a burden on my heartstrings. I'm ready.
Four minutes screamed past me earlier, but these ones pass with all the slowness of molasses. I can't help but wish it would hurry on up and give me a break. When we are down to thirty seconds, things are starting to become unbearable. I can't stand the expressions I'm seeing. I can't see defeat like this. If I'm here too much longer, I'm going to give up. I'm not as enduring as I wish I was.
I'm happy, much too happy, when the game ceases. It's another disappointment for Daiki, I'm sure, and Satsuki can't be all too pleased, but I have no complaints. I wish others didn't give up as easily as they do. Of course, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, Daiki does something stupid. Not normal stupid. Not even weird stupid. He does something so repulsive that I can't help but want to slap him. It's not at the end of the game that he does it, per se, but rather that I only recognized what he said previously now.
Before the ref has a chance to overhear us, I glare at Daiki. "If you ever talk to Tetsuya that way again, you can get the hell away from me." I hiss furiously, ignoring the widening eyes before me. "I don't want anything to do with a person who says something as condescending, rude, and insensitive as that. Anyone can win with enough effort. Don't ever let me hear you say something like that again."
The bluenette's eyes are wide, shocked. I haven't lost my temper in a long time, but hearing someone say something like your basketball can never defeat me to someone who has worked their ass off for the past few years should count as a crime against humanity. Who cares if I'm taking it too far? Who cares if I'm standing up for the other team? I was never a Miracle. I was never able to adopt their mindset. In my eyes, if someone gives their all, then they win. They can always win. It's just a matter of who wants it more. Talent bows to effort over time. I consider that to be the truth of this world.
We part, Seirin and Touou. What they do now is up to them. We have more games in the next few days. It'll be a challenge to play Atsushi, but it isn't impossible. That one we can win with enough effort. My greatest concern, however, is the game with Rakuzan that's sure to follow. It wouldn't be of benefit to play against Sei, especially with his eyes. Knowing him, he'll have the three of us sit out just so that Winter Cup is that much more interesting.
The locker room we've been assigned is filled with the cheerful non-starters are joking around, getting their things out of the lockers so we can pack up and leave. Daiki and I have things to discuss, I suppose. I can't stand to leave things the way they are. I hate yelling and fighting and conflict. I hope it passes soon. Fights are normal, right? Yeah, fights are normal. I'm about to ask Daiki something when my blood runs cold. "Who said that?" I hiss as Daiki snarls a "Shut up!"
Somebody collides with the lockers, a face I don't recognize. It's all I can do to keep myself as far from this boy... no this child as possible. Anyone who looks down on Kuroko Tetsuya is in for a bad night. My chest is tight with anger, my hands are curling into fists, and my lips are straightening into a thin line. Who is a player who did nothing but sit on the bench to look down upon someone who gave a basketball game their all? What could a benchwarmer possibly say? They have no right to judge a player while they cannot stand on the court. I can't help but approve of Daiki's actions, of the words he snarls, as I turn around and grab my jacket. I've long lost any sympathy for people who look down on others. I have no respect for anyone who fails to recognize the efforts of others.
"Daiki, let's go." I say after slipping on my jacket and pulling my things together. "I don't want to stay."
"Ha?" The blue-haired wonder gives me a look of incredulous surprise.
"Don't wanna go? Stay. I'm leaving." I reply, grabbing my backpack. "See you."
"Eh? Hai-chan, we haven't-" I give the pink-haired manager a chilly glance.
"I'm done. See you. I'm leaving." I reply frostily. My ankles hurt. My chest feels like someone's ripped into it. My thoughts are dizzy and disillusioned. I have nothing left here today. I'll come back tomorrow in time for the game and do my best, like I always do.
I don't mean to pick a fight with Touou, with Imayoshi and Satsuki and Coach Harasawa, but I've had enough. Some part of me feels dead and numb, like I've lost something on the court and I can never hope to regain it. My heart is breaking. There are words that can flow past my lips. There is liquid willing to express all the things I cannot, but who am I, a victor, to cry? I don't have the right to feel this way. I should feel good, accomplished, happy that I've won, so why do I feel like I'm dying? Why do I feel like I've lost? Something's amiss.
This, this feeling, this reaction, is why Seijuurou told me not to play. Maybe he really did only have my best interests in mind from the start. I owe him an apology for going against his will. I owe him an apology for not believing in him, for second-guessing his judgment. Seijuurou is always right.
I can feel my stomach knot and my heart drop into the soles of my shoes. I stop about a foot in front of him, hands stuffed into my pockets, nearly succumbing to the urge to avoid all eye contact with the red and gold eyed captain. It's time for me to concede to him. "You were right." The words hardly make it past my lips. I can feel my eyes burning furiously. "I shouldn't have doubted you."
Seijuurou is infamous for being ruthless and cruel, but what you can never know is just how great a captain he is until you play under him. Follow his will and you're in for the best captain you've ever seen. I know from experience. Trust me on this: of all my captains, regardless of sport, he's been the best I can name. I have absolute faith in his abilities. He always keeps his word.
Sei, for all his coldness, doesn't rub salt into an open wound. He just steps forward, closer than I would usually allow for just about anyone, and embraces me. Is it that obvious that my emotions are going to explode? That I'm just about ready to cry my eyes out? Seijuurou provides me with all the shield I need to allow my heart to empty itself completely.
I'm lucky in that I'm a silent crier. I don't know how or when I picked it up, but it's been very useful over the years. I can feel Sei's fingers firm against the back of my neck, the way his arm is curled around my waist. I'm short enough to hide my face in his shoulder and know that nobody will see. I wish this was Daiki, and not Sei...
After a few minutes, I pull away, wiping my face quickly and trying to rid any evidence of emotion from my face. It's quick, but sloppy work with nobody in sight and no mirror to reference, but the job gets done. "I'll see that you play Yosen." Seijuurou says as I drag my gaze back up to his. "You should've played for me, Alex. Seirin would've been a waste of your abilities, and Touou isn't worthy. Why don't you come to Rakuzan to play for me?"
No matter how tempting the redhead always makes his offers, this is one I can't accept. "I'm fine where I am, Sei." I reply calmly. "Touou is convenient and comfortable. There's no reason for me to change schools. That aside, Touou is where Daiki is, so..." I'm not the type to be easily swayed, but honestly, Rakuzan isn't looking half bad.
Forget the moving and look at what the school can offer me, and it isn't a bad choice, but that isn't what I want. It might be what seems like it's best for me, to play under Sei again and to go to such a great school, but I've chosen otherwise. "I'll be staying at Touou." My voice has gained confidence and ground, with enough force to actually cross the distance between Seijuurou and I. I need to remember that my captain is Imayoshi, and my teammates are Sakurai, Daiki, Wakamatsu, Susa, and my manager is Satsuki, and my coach goes by the name Harasawa. I'm not the same person I once was. I don't need Seijuurou to survive. He's no longer my oxygen. He might be the floaties that keep me from drowning, but Daiki is the pool I've chosen to drown myself in.
"Oi, Alex." I can hear Daiki's footsteps from down the hall, and I'd recognize them anywhere. I've been around him long enough to know where he is just by the way he moves. Blue hair comes into view, and if that's not concern I see in his eyes, then I don't know what to call it. Deep blue is staring into me, drilling holes into me, consuming me. I made the right choice in trusting myself to Daiki.
A smile is struggling to reach my lips even though my eyes are watering once more. "Let's get going, Alex. We're getting popsicles." I raise an eyebrow at the bluenette's statement.
"Why?" I ask, tilting my head slightly in curiosity. He rubs the back of his neck and lets out a slight sigh, shifting his weight before meeting my eyes.
"My treat, okay? No reason in particular." He says with irritation. "C'mon, Alex." As the bluenette grabs my hand and leads me away, as I turn my back on Seijuurou, I find a smile coming onto my face. "What're you smiling about? You're practically about to cry." Daiki mutters, tightening his grip on my hand. I shake my head.
"Nothing." I say with a half-grin. "I just realized that I made a good decision."