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Anime/MangaKuroko no Basuke/黒子のバスケ
Follow/FavIridescent
By: thefictionfreak
We've met before, every once in a rare while. I sail in the cluster of the night, you outshine in the daybreak. The cataclysm that is our union made your splendour known to me, but never once have I considered looking at your face. I should've known you were lovely. Izuki x OC.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Spiritual - Izuki S., OC - Chapters: 5 - Words: 19,237 - Reviews: 17 - Favs: 35 - Follows: 49 - Updated: 5/8 - Published: 4/3 - id: 10240114
+ - Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten
Prev 1. Chapter 12. Chapter 23. Chapter 34. Chapter 45. Chapter 5 Next
The last chapter kind of gave a hint on the mindfuckery in this fic if you didn't notice. Hahaha. Don't worry it'll be explained soon. There'd be lesser volleyball shit from here on too so yeah.
Iridescent Chapter III
Fuyu Hikari realized something while sitting by Maji Burger's ceiling-to-floor windows waiting for her classmate Izuki Shun to finish taking their orders from the counter.
She realized that the guy already knew about her and the condition everyone else thought she had, that's why he had taken her here to talk about it, because he knew.
Of course, Kai must have told Riko-san, who must have ordered Izuki and Kuroko to do something. And even if Kai had tried to justify her at some point, her friend still thought she needed help.
So of course, this is still just an order. Not a genuine, friendly concern from a guy who thought there might be something wrong.
Hikari scoffed. She should've known.
"That kid," Hikari said nibbling on a strip of fries, "Kuroko-san right? He's very cute, like I freaking want to squish him, really. But he's pretty odd, you know, almost like a ghost. And he asked me this weird question."
"What question?" asked Izuki, putting down his glass of iced-tea, onyx irises focused on her.
"Well, he asked what victory is for me, but I wasn't able to answer because you suddenly came running wearing that shirt, which looks good on you by the way."
She put another piece of fries on her mouth, feigning disinterest on the subject, not even looking back at the point guard.
"What would've been your answer then?" he asked, unsurprised that Kuroko had already asked.
There was a hint of a smirk playing on Hikari's lips, though she still refused to give him her full attention. "How about you answer it first?" she offered, holding her own glass of iced-tea.
"I'd like to know yours first."
"I'm not answering unless…" she directed her gaze on her fingers catching the droplets around the glass, eyebrows hiking up in provocation.
"Well, victory proves that you've worked hard and achieved your best potential in a sport that you love," Izuki complied. "Winning means that you're stronger, wiser, and more deserving than your opponents, but more that, it also means that you've done your best, and that it itself is the greatest thing about it. Training to win and devoting yourself to what you enjoy is the joy of playing sports."
He waited for her take in the implications of what he said—looking for something, some sort of reaction, but he found nothing but indifference, as if the statement has been nagged and rubbed at her for how many times already that she couldn't make herself bother to listen anymore—as he watched her take a long sip on her drink while he spoke.
"That's mainstream," she finally replied.
The setter put the glass down with an audible thud, seemingly ready to get down to business, as her dark-blood eyes finally met his, bearing intensity so fierce Izuki was sure they were no longer talking about a simple matter anymore.
For once, it took Izuki a few seconds to respond. "Yes, because that's a universal truth."
She placed her hands and elbows on the table, finally giving him her full attention.
"But not for me."
He might have been disturbed, if he hadn't half-expected that. "Then what is victory to you?" he asked.
Half-hooded eyes melted against his, and those dark blood ones clearly showed—
"Don't ask like you don't know it already."
—suspicion.
Izuki didn't expect that.
"What, you don't know?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "How would I know? As far as I can tell, you don't care about winning and losing at all, but that's just my observation. If you have other definitions, I wouldn't know unless you tell me."
She sneered a little at that. "Really? Then what did your Coach tell you? I would assume she already had a plan on how to alleviate the glitches in our team."
He thought of it for a moment, recalling the conversation between him, Kuroko and Riko during practice.
"She's the main hitch; that girl has issues about victory," Riko had told them, "Kai-san, their captain, told me she's a little complicated. It's not much of a problem, she said, until Hikari-san takes it in a match. She didn't participate competitively, she didn't want to win."
Izuki had been distraught after hearing that. The irony didn't make sense to him; she plays a sport, but didn't want to win? Does that mean she preferred losing? For what reason? What kind of team player steps on the court with the intention of losing?
Riko had asked Izuki and Kuroko to look into her views on victory then, hoping to at least understand why.
"Our coach said you had issues about victory," he told her. "What it is for you? Do you really dislike winning?"
"That's really how Kai phrased it to her? Hah, the idiot," she chuckled, clearly showing no ill-intent about her friend despite what the captain had said about her.
"Well, about what you were saying," she continued. Izuki listened attentively. "I may have issues about victory or whatever, but that's the thing about me, and I can't help it. It's planted inside my brain and no one—."
"Which is why we're here, to see if there's something we can do—"
"And then what?" her voice sounded higher, "You'll try to brainwash me into thinking something else about victory, about defeat? Because you were ordered to? Because—"
"—no one ordered me to brainwash you—"
"—you guys think that once I change my mind, we'll be the strong team that we're supposed to be and nobody has to worry about our team getting terminated anymore? Is that it?"
Izuki stared at her incredulously. He expected defensiveness, but not to this point.
"Hikari-san," he said, very softly, and then his voice was back to normal, "I don't know what your thoughts are, I don't very well understand what your point is about the whole victory thing, and seeing your reaction to this, the more it makes me want to know."
Hikari released a deep sigh, gaining back her composure.
"So you really don't know, huh? Fine. Have you seen me play in matches?"
"No, not yet," said Izuki impassively.
"Good. Now, you want a piece of my thoughts? Well alright, I'll give you that," she shifted in her seat to lean on the backrest. "You know what victory is for me?"
She paused. Izuki didn't say anything, allowing her to continue on.
"Well, it's something I prefer not to pursue because it only takes away what I love most about volleyball, which is the enjoyment." At his nonplussed expression, she looked out the window as she tried to elaborate.
"Playing for victory means constantly refusing to be happy with your performance unless you get that particular prize," she said, "And you think more of winning than of playing the sport; the need to win drains you off of power—" she scoffed, "—that's pure rubbish pressure if you ask me. I don't care if victory gets your name on the news or gives you a bunch of medals; you get bored with those things soon and you realize you want something bigger. Is it any fun playing like that? Maybe not, cuz I think you're only pushing yourself for the sake of meeting expectations if you play like that. I play because it's fun and I enjoy it, that's all."
The point guard was silent for a moment, ruminating on her words.
So that's her view, he thought. It's decipherable despite the eccentricity, but he still couldn't agree with that. Sports is fun regardless of whether you win or not; what matters is how you play the game, that's why the term sportsmanship exists. And, taking from his experiences playing in the Interhigh Prelims, he knew that the urge and pressure to win in fact fuels up the power in your game—that is if you're really into it. But putting his retorts aside, what caught his curiosity more was how and why she came to think of it like that.
So she didn't enjoy matches where the pressure of having to win is intense, and she believed that victory wouldn't constitute to any good if you glorify in it, which is her reason why she didn't participate competitively at them, a probable cause for their frequent defeat, hence the threat of club termination.
"What does your team say about it?" Izuki found himself asking. "Do they tolerate you not wanting to play for a win?"
The setter scowled as if offended. "Hey, hold it a second," she said. "I was generalizing, alright? I only said I prefer not to pursue victory, but do you think I have a choice once I'm already on the court? Nobody enters a competition with the intention of losing, you know. What kind of team player steps on the court with the intention of losing?"
Izuki had to resist the urge to gawk at that. Just a while ago, he'd thought of the exact same thing.
"So you still give a fight, despite what you think, but only because you're required to," he clarified.
It took her a moment to reply. "Yeah," she said, "You could call it that. My role as a setter is to bring the best out of my teammates, and I still stand by that even in matches, even though I've come to hate matches. I don't have any choice but do what I can to try to win, for my team."
"Then why do you still lose?"
This time, the way she remained silent made Izuki realize that his words had struck a part of her somehow. She looked agitated all of a sudden, almost threatened—vulnerable. It startled him; for all her talk, Hikari still felt conflicted about herself after all.
She averted her gaze and gave an inconspicuous shrug, "Because…" she started, searching for the right words, "Because maybe… fighting, especially for the wrong reasons, doesn't guarantee that you'll be the winner," Hikari muttered. "Maybe I just don't deserve it."
Although it seemed a little too self-deprecating on her side, Izuki agreed inwardly. You'd never deserve to win if it's the opponents who are actually fighting tooth and nail for it.
"But at least you still have a reason to fight," he told her, "You play. In competitions. For your team."
"Yeah. For my team" she managed a little smile. "That's what I tell myself."
He leaned back on his seat, looking genuinely reassured. "That's a relief, although it still baffled me how you came to think of things like that," he said.
"Of course you would," said Hikari, smiling a little. "But you'll see the gist of it soon," she told him, nodding to herself. "Then you'll know…"
"I'd like that," he said, seemingly back to casual, "But I've had enough mental-strain for a while. I think I'll pass for now", he said jokingly.
They chuckled lightly for a moment without any actual reason. Maybe it's their unspoken way of relieving the tensed atmosphere that seemed to have resurfaced throughout the little conversation. Then, when the awkward chuckling faded away, Hikari sighed deeply again—looking thoroughly done with the subject—then redirected her gaze outside through the glass windows and resumed eating.
"The fries have gone cold," she said blankly.
He felt the corners of his lips curling up the slightest. "And the fries cries for having gone cold," he remarked.
Now she's the one who gave him the look of disbelief.
She started giggling, not because it's funny, but because this guy is so unbelievably lame, and the fact that he can actually spew stupid puns right now of all times is probably even more unbelievable than what she just told him.
She giggled more, because she needs it, after having to talk about that.
And he giggled with her, just because it was odd to see a girl giggle after all that talk.
"You know what? I actually realized you looked kind of hot when you're scowling. You should scowl more," she teased, the fries hanging from her mouth.
If it was another day, Izuki would have responded to that with a polite withdrawal, but he found he was still a bit tensed from their little discussion that he actually teased back.
"Don't flatter me much, you're already the first girl who actually laughed at my pun. Well aside from my family." Then he, too, resumed consuming his food.
"Oh, what pun? I wasn't aware."
"But you giggled."
"Probably because you're too unbelivable."
"You're way more unbelievable. Trust me."
"I giggled because you were so lame," she spat back.
When she looked back at him again, Izuki's eyes were wide and his eyebrows are knitted ―a look she has seen before. Then he held up an index finger and said to no one in particular.
"The gorilla goriggles at the lame llama. Kitakore~!" There was a PING! sound in the background.
Hikari almost choked in her drink, and found herself stifling another giggle because of her reaction. "I see what you did there," she offered and made a mental note to always be ready for pun outbursts when around this random classmate of hers.
By the time she recovered, a little notebook has already found itself on Izuki's hand. While the boy was jotting down the new pun, Hikari realized something and started giggling again.
"See? I'm so punny I can make you laugh," Izuki grinned, looking absolutely triumphant.
"You have a handy-dandy notebook."
"Of course, you miss the fun when you miss the pun, so I keep it handy-dandy."
Giggle. "Do you also. . . sit down in a thinking chair and think, think, think," she sang, mimicking that weird guy with striped green shirt.
And their conversation suddenly turned into a giggling fit full of lame puns and lame teasing. The topic about issues on victory long been forgotten.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
The next day, practice went the same as usual. The basketball club was still pretty much distracted having the volleyball club in the same gym, but later found it bearable enough, and they weren't throwing glances at them anymore. Ironically, Coach thinks it was a good training for the boys. It meant that even if they're exposed to distraction, they can still perform well.
When the girls had a mini-practice game by themselves while the guys sat for their water break, it was an excuse to watch them play. Coach allowed it, because she weren't shooting them glares.
Izuki, the team's point guard, couldn't help but feel like the world wasn't being fair to him.
The setter, his classmate Fuyu Hikari, had impeccable skills compared to other girls her age, playmaking abilities, and a good stamina (her team position requires countless numbers of laps around the court she might as well sprints half a mile in each match).
She had the makings of a good athlete; she had the skill—but didn't like playing for competition. What a waste, he thought. That skill could really save her team from club termination if she only willingly use with the intention of winning, at least then she'd get to stand on equal grounds with her opponents with regards to deserving to win.
He, on the other hand, genuinely pursued victory without any excuses and without any doubt in his heart and worked very hard and gave his best to help his team achieve victory so that by the end of the match, it'd be assured that he and his team would be swelling with joy and fulfilment and be feeling like the world is all good and sports is so fun and everything is amazing.
However, despite all these, Izuki was still not particularly good at anything other than punning and has no offensive weapons and was pretty much the least special among the Seirin regulars albeit having the Eagle Eye, not to mention his low stamina and clumsiness never ceased to earn him the occasional yelling from the Riko and Hyuuga and―
"Izuki-senpai."
He whirled around, found Kuroko staring just beside him on the bench.
Izuki almost had another heart attack.
"I believe you were able to ask Fuyu-senpai about what Coach said yesterday," the first year asked, after Izuki recovered from the shock. He could never get used to the invisible kid.
"Oh, that," said Izuki. He huffed a little and placed his elbows on his parted thighs. Then he proceeded to tell the younger boy all that he'd learned from his classmate last night.
Kuroko became silent for a while, just contemplatively staring at the ground in front of him.
"That's… different," said Kuroko, "But I see her point. It's a good thing she plays because she enjoys it, not for the sake of just winning, though I couldn't agree with the way she's taking the idea of victory too negatively."
"That's what I thought too," said Izuki, watching the girls on the court. "It's strange that she's still going on with all those ideas when her team's already on the verge of shutting down."
"It's strange, yes. She needs to re-evaluate her priorities for her team if she wants to keep playing with them… though I don't think Fuyu-senpai hasn't thought of that yet."
They watched Hikari throw a serve and prepare for the other team's attack. The ball was delivered back in a blow, but they kept it in rally. She dashed across and prepared to set, raising her arms overhead and spreading her fingers in a gesture that looked vaguely similar to a dance step. The ball went up flawlessly and was slammed down for another point.
As she erupted into a huge grin and a shout of 'Alright! Another point!' while raising a tightly shut fist to her side of the court, Izuki realized that Kuroko might actually be right. What Hikari believed in are concepts; ideologies that could be questioned and broken given a particular situation. Given the predicament of her team, Izuki had a hunch that a part of her probably be felt responsible for the threat of club termination due to her views on victory and her unwillingness to participate in matches competitively.
And if what he and Kuroko thought were true, the mixture of self-conflict and regret she felt must really be appalling. She's stuck in a rut; now she felt the need to fight—like how she appeared to at the moment watching her—and with it she has to tell herself that she'd been wrong about her ideals all along; I have to win, winning is important, if it would sustain the existence of my team, I need to win.
It would make her lose herself as well as the ideals she kept all this time, and that's something Izuki wouldn't want to see.
"If Akashi-kun was here, they would have clashed."
"What was that again?" Izuki asked Kuroko, too lost in his thoughts to actually have heard the younger boy.
"Nothing."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Problems concerning other sports clubs was something he shouldn't be dwelling on, Izuki told himself. Winter Cup was approaching closer by each day, and soon he'd be competing along with his team in the Preliminaries with a goal to come out on top and nothing else, which meant that dealing with the case of an unwilling-to-win athlete like Fuyu Hikari may not be a good idea in case she becomes able to rub her ideologies at him as well.
But gods help him, Izuki thought watching the figure outside of the gate walk towards him while holding a huge black umbrella. His growing curiosity about how and why and what now about her couldn't be helped. He felt like a moth drawn to fire; the more he satiated his curiosity, the more risk he's presenting himself with.
Also, what can he do? He remembered another order from the Coach that he should be doing moments after practice ended that day, and Izuki saw it as another excuse to know the classmate that had never been the same to him since the day he met her outside of the class.
So he and Kuroko should still have to walk Hikari to Aida's Sports Gym to have her borrow Kagetora-san's medicine ball as instructed by their Coach. Kuroko already left—maybe the kid forgot, he didn't know— so he has to do it alone.
And it was raining again.
"You took your time," Hikari said when they'd reached each other. She immediately held the umbrella over his head as well, creasing her forehead in his drenched state.
"Sorry, I almost forgot."
"Knew you would. Where's Kuroko-san?"
"Ah. He's not coming, he's kinda sick," he lied, defending Kuroko's absent-mindedness.
They were standing by the street in front one of Seirin's exit gates. A few students loitered by, all donning umbrellas to counter the sudden rainfall. Both their teams had taken other routes; his went to Maji Burger first. As much as he wanted to come with them, he wouldn't want to have her waiting here in the any longer.
His hair was already wet from having to run there without an umbrella. He noticed Hikari frowning on this and watched as she made him hold the chocolate bar she was consuming to take out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, then she started dragging on Izuki's forehead.
"You're dripping," she said, leaning the hand that held the umbrella on his collarbone to steady himself.
Izuki smiled at the gesture, taking a moment to admire the stain on her face and how it uncomplemented the frown on her face. "I'm fine. Use that for yourself." He took her wrist gently and peeled the handkerchief off.
"What?"
He scoffed and wiped something from the side of her mouth. "You look more embarrassing than me." Then he gave the handkerchief back and there was dirt, no, chocolate on it.
The walk was rather comfortable excluding the fact that the rain got their socks and school uniforms slightly wet. Hikari didn't seem to mind that their shoulders touched due to their proximity in sharing her umbrella and Izuki didn't mind that at all. If she was comfortable with him then the better she'll make herself understood by him. The air between the two was kept casual by the occasional remarks about the boring classes they share, and she also started poking his cheek with a new bar of Sneakers.
The moment they knocked on the entrance of Aida's Sports Gym, Kagetora-san's face came blearing down on them, a bright blue medicine ball in one hand.
"Good evening, Kagetora san."
"Good evening, Mr. . urgh."
Kagetora-san was frowning.
"My lovely daughter said 3 of her apprentices are coming tonight to get this," he moved the hand holding the ball. "I only see two."
Izuki gulped.
"Ah, Kuroko? He's―he's…"
The man smirked. "Aww, it's alright. I know you two intentionally left the other kid just so you can be alone―"
"What―? No!" they said in unison.
He proceeded to laugh, throwing his head back in mirth.
"I told you it's alright. Here." And he shifted the weight of the blue sphere on Izuki's arms.
The boy almost fell on the floor, trying to catch it.
"Ugh~! This is HEAVY," he wobbled and struggled to lift it up to his stomach's level, only to have it falling and rolling on the cement floor.
Of course it's heavy, it's a 4 kilogram medicine ball after all.
"Work it, kid," the older man said, still smirking at the boy who now has the ball secured on his arms.
"Uh, may I ask where the Coach is?" asked Izuki, his arms straining from the effort, though it was bearable.
"Right upstairs, taking a shower."
The classmates shared a mutual glance that voiced their unspoken thoughts.
"Please tell her we already came to get the medicine ball and that we said thanks, we wouldn't want to interrupt more," said Hikari.
Kagetora-san chuckled. "Sure thing, Red Wine," he told her. "You must be the setter Riko-Tan was talking about."
The girl looked perplexed.
"Ah, I guess so?"
Then the man surprised the two teens by putting a hand on Hikari's head.
"I see, you really have a weird head, huh?" he stated, squeezing her skull a little bit.
"Well, uh, Kagetora-san," Izuki spluttered, worriedly looking at the hand on Hikari's head, "We'll be taking our leave now."
He let his hand down. "Alright, careful on your way."
"Hai. Thank you so much!" the two bowed politely.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Izuki huffed in relief the moment they stopped in front of a small, modern-styled house. They finally reached Hikari's place, after such a long, wet journey. Oh, he just had to smile.
The rain had poured down on them heavier and once he had to run after the medicine ball when it slipped off his hands and rolled on its merry way down the slippery street. Of course the run had made him all wet and dripping and Hikari just really had to laugh herself silly.
Right, and he was even doing this for her.
"I'll just get this inside," he said when the girl turned to him.
"Sure."
She opened the door and got in, Izuki following close. He'd been here last night, when he had to walk her too, but he didn't have to get in. Now he had to cuz he still wouldn't want a girl to carry that heavy sphere full of sand that they call medicine ball (why is it even called medicine ball? It doesn't look like it can sure something), even if the girl he was referring to was probably even more athletic than him.
When Hikari told him to place it at the carpet on the corner, that's when it dawned to her, that her poor and helpful classmate, soaked in rain and stinking, needs a warm shower immediately, that is if he doesn't like getting sick. She face-palmed herself, she'd be the one to get sick if he gets home like this.
"Izuki-kun."
"Yeap?" he stood up in front of her.
"Uhhh, well. You look un-look-able. "
"That's a pun," he said beaming.
She snorted and scratched her dark blood-colored head, looking unsure. "You need to take a shower."
"I will, when I get home. Thanks."
"You need it now, I guess you can use my brother's shower…?"
"What?"
"You can't go home like that, you know."
Izuki looked around, trying to hide the embarrassment. "Uhhh, you'd let me shower here?"
"Yeah, I guess so," said the maroonhead, "My brother won't be here until midnight. No one's around, just me."
Oh no.
"Uhh. . ." of course he's reluctant, this is embarrassing.
Hikari sighed. "Come on. No big deal. I just don't want you to get home looking like you've been swallowed and spitted out by an anaconda."
Izuki made a disgusted face and looked at himself. "Eh, I don't think. . ."
She sighed, yanked him by the elbow and started pulling him into one of the rooms in the small house.
Groans and whines of 'I really don't have to,' were heard before she managed to toss the point guard into the bathroom and shut the door. She had to put herself as a barrier on the door to keep the stubborn and embarrassed boy from getting out.
"I don't have a change of. . .anything!" called Izuki, pushing the door so as not to be pegged as… too submissive. He does think he needs a shower now but oh well, being all flustered makes him go out-of-character.
"I'll get you something!" Hikari yelled back, although they were just a door apart. "Just stop pushing the door, damn it."
Izuki dropped his hands, realizing how childish he acted like. Damn, why should he get all embarrassed like this? He's just going to take a shower and that's it. "Alright," he surrendered.
"Good."
He has already stripped his wet gakuran top off and was about to pull down his slacks zipper when Hikari barged inside the bathroom, a bunch of clothing in her arms.
"Whoa~whoaah! Holy shoot, I'm sorry!" she immediately backed off, seeing his half-naked back and turning face full of horror.
"Sorry, I thought you were still fully dressed," she called again, already on the other side of the bathroom door.
The point guard wanted to pull his hair out. "It's alright, just leave them there."
"I dunno what you would wear so I got a variety for you," he heard her say from the outside. "These are all my brother's. He's quite bigger than you, but I guess they'll fit alright."
"Alright. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it," he replied sincerely.
He heard her giggle. "You're welcome. It's my fault you got wet in the rain anyway."
"It can't be helped, we have a rain-sane wet-ther after all." PING!
A string of chortles from outside the bathroom instantly followed. "What the heck!? That's the lamest pun you've ever made!"
Izuki couldn't help the beam that erupted on his face, hidden from his obviously amused classmate. But you're laughing anyway, he wanted to say.
Hearing her laugh like this reminded him of that rainy Sunday when he first saw her play volleyball with her teammates. She'd sounded so loud, so hysterical, and now he was hearing her laugh like that again. Maybe, he figured, maybe she'd become comfortable around him, just like him around her.
The he remembered again… the reason why she probably isn't his type of girl.
Sheesh, why do I have to get reminded of that now?
When he heard the sound of a barring door and Hikari's fading chuckles, Izuki shrugged and went on with this very misplaced and quite untimely shower.
EXTRA:
"Of course, you miss the fun when you miss the pun, so I keep it handy-dandy."
Giggle. "Do you also. . . sit down in a thinking chair and think, think, think," she sang, mimicking that weird guy with striped green shirt.
Kagami grimaced, the hold in his tray of burgers starting to tighten.
No, he did not just hear his senpai and that girl from the volleyball club talk about that show. That freaking kiddie show he was so freakishly fond of when he was still a kid in L.A.
No, he didn't want to get reminded of that every time he sees the little notebook of his senpai that the older boy seems to be pulling out a lot.
No.
He didn't care if they're dating or what, he's gonna find a table farthest from those two weirdoes.
Unfortunately, he couldn't find one.
Author's Note:
If there are people out there who actually gives a shit about this thing, I'd totally appreciate it if you make your presence felt, so leave a review first before you get the hell out of here.
Haha lol, am just trolling. But yeah, please review. Thanks.
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