A/N: It is not an exaggeration when I say that this was probably one of my most favorite chapters to write about so far.

But please, enjoy!

Chapter 16

"Forget about me already."

Rrrrrriiinnnggggg….

"… Daiki?"

Silence.

"Daiki, don't you need to go to school?"

"… Leave me alone."

Three seconds.

"… Alright."

The door made a definite click as it slid against the frame once again. Aomine Daiki, a tanned teenager now in his third and final year of middle school, lied against the wall as he gave his closet a blank look. School. Right. The sight of the Teiko Junior High uniform reminded him that he was actually still a student, not…

Not…

Not what?

The ludicrous thought swelled, as he clutched his bed sheets and sat up properly. It was eight in the morning – practice had long ended, and first period was almost done. I don't see the point in going anymore. Turning to his right was a photo he took with his previous homeroom during his second year of junior high. The good days. The days where there were still worthy opponents in existence.

He was at the top.

Without doubt, he had to be the best.

He always wanted to be.

He got what he wanted.

And this is all I get.

"This," he whispered, "is all I get." There was a fact he had overlooked before reaching the highest point of this peak. This peak called victory, it was. There was always somebody above him. Always. But he had never come to realize, that once you were the best, there was only something called "below". There was no above, but only below. He had to persevere until someone challenged his position – his solid stance at this summit.

But when will that be? Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year?

He speculated, imaging himself alone, on the basketball court. The adversary team charging towards him with all their might, and Aomine thrashing across the vicinity, standing side by side to his new opponent. An opponent that could force the hidden strength inside of him – an opponent that could crush him entirely, and tower over his flag of utter disposition and victory.

I want to be crushed. He sounded like one fucking masochist, all right. I want to be absolutely annihilated and destructed, so much that I can quit basketball. So much that I wouldn't ever need to feel the satisfaction of engaging myself with this sport ever again. His motivation to play basketball was the unique thrill and excitement it presented him.

Basketball was his life. If someone were to write his biography, the first word and chapter would start with 'Basketball', and the last word and last chapter would end with 'Basketball'. It was such a crucial activity and form to him in his life, that without it, he'd just be a dull teenager wasting away his daily action by napping.

"Daiki, do you enjoy playing basketball?"

I don't, dad.

"… Are you still waiting?"

It was her. It was Kuroko Tetsuya that lightened up his black and white world. Upon entering junior high, Aomine was still skeptical. He was skeptical about joining the basketball club, and sincerely believed that he would never be able to rebuild his compassion towards basketball. He was the Light, and she was the Shadow.

But when the Light started to evolve too quickly, the Shadow couldn't catch up. The Light abandoned her, and the Shadow was alone, no longer a Shadow to anything.

Yes.

He knew.

He knew that he was fucking terrible.

Even terrible wouldn't cut it.

When he responded to her longing question with "What?", he actually knew what she was referring to. He recalled every single second of that moment when he confessed to her, and when she gave her reply. And he waited. He did wait.

It was just that he wasn't waiting anymore.

He didn't know when it all began. When he started losing interest in everything on Earth, including his romantic feelings towards Kuroko. It all started to shatter, evaporate, and finally vanished from his sight – just like everything else in his life did. When he realized what he had done, it was already too late. Kuroko had distanced herself from everyone, and the Generation of Miracles had segregated, and avoided each other's mere existence.

In the end, Nijimura's hypothesis was accurate. They had left her. They disposed her. And now, she was broken. She was no longer their Light, or their Shadow.

She was just… Just an ordinary girl.

"I'm such…" Aomine stared at his plain, beige ceiling. It was plain but flawless and comforting, but unreachable at his current position. Just like how his relationship with Kuroko was intangible. "… An asshole." Covering his eyes with his left arm, Aomine buried his head inside his sheets.

What have you done?

What have you done?

What have you done?

Grudgingly enough, Aomine couldn't answer.

It was raining. Raining hard.

"Mido-chin, I can't believe you out of all people didn't bring an umbrella. I suppose you only update yourself with those dumb horoscopes, and not weather forecasts?"

"Shut up, Murasakibara. You're not in the position to say anything."

Two boys. The same old two boys were standing under the roof of 'Momo 24-hours' again. They had both decided to stop by the said convenience store for their own purposes (Midorima needed to buy Oha Asa's new lucky item, and Murasakibara needed to buy his siblings' share of ice cream), only to be stopped in their tracks upon heading out, as it began to pour.

Of course, convenience stores had umbrellas and raincoats – but they were all sold out. They were truly lucky.

"Besides, I thought Mido-chin's house was rich. You own a hospital in Tokyo, so why can't you call your personal driver or something?" Murasakibara furrowed his brows – he really despised being alone with the green head, out of all selective people.

Midorima snapped right back. "We don't have a driver. Besides, I thought you had like five hundred siblings? Why can't you ask for one of them to pick you up?"

"Only one of them has a driver's license and a car." Murasakibara grumbled. "But he's banned to partake in any outdoor activities for the next two months. He caused some major trouble for my parents to handle, you see, and now…" He trailed off. He figured that Midorima didn't need to know about his family issues to such an extent.

And of course, Midorima speedily deduced that that was about everything he was going to get from Murasakibara. He wasn't the tiniest bit curious or intrigued by Murasakibara's family conflicts – he was aware, but that was as far as knowledge spread, and he wished it stopped there. He had enough family troubles himself, considering the divorce of his parents, and him cutting off any form of interaction with his father, whom he was currently living with.

Well, not like it mattered, anyway.

Silently, glancing at Midorima as the green head now had began to scan through his biology textbook, Murasakibara opened his mouth. "… Have you talked to Kuro-chin recently?" His slightly shaky voice trembled along with the chill tip-taps of the rain, as it splashed over the cement floor.

"Last week, yes." Midorima lifted his glasses, wiping the fogging glass. His expression was unchanging, solemn. "It was nothing important, though."

"How about Mine-chin?"

Midorima was wordless for a while, upon heeding and processing the question. Him and Aomine had joint classes together, like physical education and everything, which was probably the base of the reason why Murasakibara asked. Despite knowing that, Midorima's intellect tried to connect the two questions. "He has been absent – inattentive, I'd say. Either that he gave up on both basketball and his studies, or that he's just going through some phases. I am assuming it's the combination of both, but," unwrapping his new Oha Asa merchandise, Midorima continued, "it's honestly none of my business."

Murasakibara's silence indicated a soundless note of understanding. As the basis of their relationship had always stood on a rather paranoid disposition, the two were used to these conversations. They were neither meaningful nor valuable – it was just a form of communication. Midorima Shintaro and Murasakibara Atsushi definitely shared an odd bond.

"Say, Mido-chin," his face lowering to face his reflection in the puddle of transparent liquid, Murasakibara mumbled, his words slightly trailing over one syllable after another, "do you remember what happened last year?"

This inquiry piqued Midorima's interest – but he didn't display this openly in the slightest. Instead, he substituted his inquisitive personality with a serene response. "Many events occurred last year, Murasakibara."

"You told me to stop Aka-chin." Without skipping a beat, Murasakibara answered.

"Stop Akashi, Murasakibara."

The distant memories flooding back like a gushing waterfall, Midorima had the inclination to rebut cynically to Murasakibara about how he persisted to actually believe his words – to actually consider Midorima's words seriously, being such a dense material he is. But he didn't do so.

"Yes, I did. What about it?"

"I'm going to do it."

Midorima involuntarily bent down to recollect his off-balance textbook; as for one second he almost dropped his arm that was supporting him, due to the sudden news. His eyes widened significantly, and his breath had now vanished from his senses, as if an invisible beast knocked him down.

"You're going to do what?" It was ever so scarce that Midorima had formatted a question so carelessly, without the use of diffuse vocabulary. Murasakibara did not note this point.

"Stop Akashi." It disconcerted Midorima once more that Murasakibara had resorted to put Akashi's actual name to use. He never did so. He never did. "I'm going to stop Akashi Seijuro." The shooting guard, never during his two and a quarter years with the center of Teiko's starting lineup, had witnessed Murasakibara with such a determined, willful face. The giant never took any occurrence seriously – at least, that's what Midorima had brought himself to conclude.

"Now?" He attempted to recollect his calm posture. But the announcement was so freshly left, echoing repeatedly in his mind like a ringing bell – like a repetitive rhythm that you couldn't resist.

Murasakibara on the other hand, appeared to be perfectly composed with an odd sense of tranquility. This was all so foreign – it was as if their personality traits were switched. "Yeah. Hopefully some time soon, I'll find a chance. And at that moment, I'm going to beat some sense into Akashi."

"It's…" impossible, Midorima thought. But that was already a portion of the past – a fact that was outdated. Murasakibara had long surpassed most of the Generation of Miracles, and now stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Aomine's ability. Akashi, with his current state of mind, was surmountable. Murasakibara was correct – this was the ideal chance they were all waiting for.

"How?" He asked instead.

Murasakibara seemed to be in thought as well. "I didn't plan that far. I'm not very constructive or mindful like Mido-chin anyway."

The said "constructive and mindful" male didn't know what he expected from Murasakibara – but was taken aback by the fact that the purple head had admitted that so easily. Only two years ago, he would've never said so himself, without Midorima throwing such a remark.

"… Right." Midorima nodded a little. "I understand."

"But," Murasakibara quickly intercepted, not wanting Midorima to get the wrong idea, "I do plan on sticking to my word. I have confidence. That… I can defeat Akashi on this challenge. I'm going to…"

"Going to what?"

Shrugging, Murasakibara clumsily put his hands in his uniform pockets. "Make him apologize, I guess. To everything he did to Kuroko." Midorima's puzzled expression made Murasakibara speak further for clarification. "Of course, I know that Akashi's not the only at fault. We all played respective roles in hurting her, or so I think. And… I don't know. Was it absolutely necessary, that we had to separate?"

Midorima had finally fully comprehended Murasakibara's intentions, and what he planned to gain from this battle. It was reconciliation – of the Generation of Miracles. He missed the old days. He yearned to reclaim the place he belonged.

Just like Midorima.

"Murasakibara." His glasses fogged up again, moisture gathering on the glass's surface. "Where do you consider home?" Midorima had never felt truly happy in his whole life. Despite the fact he merely lived around fifteen years, too early to conclusively announce something in life, he had to admit, he never felt true happiness before. His family's disputes made him miserable as a child, and he still held a sense of unforgivable vengeance towards both parents. He never felt he had a safe home. He never felt like he had a place to seek refuge.

Murasakibara didn't seem to be surprised or stunned about the sudden inquiry. He just listened, and closed his eyes decisively, imagining the same answer from Midorima.

"Nowhere." He said. His tone was definitive and solid, like a wall of steel. "But if I have to pick somewhere, then it'd be…"

Midorima didn't need to heed the rest of Murasakibara's response – because he knew it perfectly well himself.

If we had to pick somewhere, then it'd be there, where we were still all together.

A few days later, for the first time in two weeks, Aomine had showed up to practice. Nobody dared to say a single word, not even the Generation of Miracles, about his whereabouts these past few days. It was more like nobody found it quite necessary for them to ponder about such things – there were so many more important concerns they had to deal with, after all. Like the upcoming matches, or the beginning of the Winter Cup for junior high. It was all much more discerning and stressful than the absence of their ace.

Only for the formalities, Akashi questioned Aomine's lack of attentiveness. "Aomine, don't skip out on school too much."

"It's none of your business, Akashi." Dribbling a basketball across the court with a glum expression, Aomine ignored his captain. Even Akashi was too fed up to deal with him – he had plenty to fuss over on his plate. He found it useless to argue further with Aomine concerning this particular problem, and as a result, he looked over it.

It was none of his business, anyway.

Practice resumed, as if nothing happened. Coach Sanada didn't say a word of chiding or of any reprimand, either. He merely stole a glimpse, nodded at Aomine, and returned to concentrate on his paperwork he was required to do in order to sign up for the upcoming matches, as well as regulations of the club.

Even Momoi Satsuki, Aomine's long childhood friend, didn't bother to give him a glance at all. It was almost as if they were strangers that just happened to be in the same club, with no other connections at all.

A practice game began, with the entire first string divided into two teams. The Generation of Miracles were mostly benched, as the coach had decided no extra practice was really essential for them. Although coach Sanada had now resorted to abusing the strength of them and over-relied on their power alone, he couldn't completely ignore and betray the hard work of the rest of the first string. Despite the fact that most members of the Teiko basketball club had came to accept the bitter fact that they were useless compared to the Generation of Miracles, there were still some others that had the blazing determination to play. And as a coach, a instructional figure, coach Sanada couldn't ignore them as well.

It was then, that chaos ensued.

"You could've gotten that one." Aomine clenched his fists together, balling them up in frustration. The game had been stretched out – at least, that's what it must've seemed like to the eyes of the Generation of Miracles. It was getting very draggy, yes, but none of them thought it had to be brought up. Not everyone was at their league, after all.

"I- I mean…" The smaller member shook fearfully upon facing the glowering power forward. "We're not you. Not everyone can save that –"

"WHY CAN'T YOU?!" Aomine grabbed the guy buy the collar, as the latter yelped.

Why were there so many more weak ones than the strong?

Why were people so undetermined to play?

Why?

"Aomine, stop." Akashi hissed. "Violence will not be tolerated on the court."

Aomine had now let the male down on his feet again, as he snorted cynically at Akashi. "There we go, our Mr. Captain acting all high and mighty now. But what can you do? You're weaker than me. Let me daresay, that you might even be the weakest among the current lineup of the Generation of Miracles. It shames my name to be grouped with you, you know."

"Aomine." Akashi sucked in a deep breath of patience. He was trying so hard not to be affected by the latter's words. It was not true. He couldn't be the weakest. "Stop."

You have to be absolute…

"Stop?" It all seemed like a comical joke now. "Stop, for what? Why would I obey your commands, Mr. Captain? What, feel like a dear majesty on your high horse? Do you feel like you have the right to tell me what to do, just because Nijimura fucking left you with that position? Don't talk shit with me, Akashi." It wasn't calmly or sarcastically spoken words – it was slowly getting louder and louder, Aomine's tone rising significantly.

"Aomi –"

"You're just all bitter over the fact that you lost against me." Interrupting the call of his name, Aomine spat. "Lost against Haizaki, too. Getting Tetsu, right? You lost. You're just bitter over that. That I at least got her heads over heels for me, that Haizaki at least befriended her – while you," Akashi's heart was pounding faster and faster, until it became uncontrollable. Anger overwhelmed his whole body, as his breathing hitched. "While you, accomplished nothing."

Absolute…

"Aomine, you're taking this way too far for your own good." Midorima warned, trying to hold the male down. At the same time, he took a cautious glance at Kuroko, who was listening to this conversation, her fingers wrapped around the basketball in her hands, like a precious treasure.

"Stay out of this, Midorima." Aomine harshly pushed the other to the side. "Tell you what, Akashi? I'm quitting practice. Get me fucking out of this hell. Isn't it better? For you, and for me. I don't need to hear you fucking talk shit all the time, and you don't need to see me at all. Great deal, don't you agree? While I go outside and dawdle around, you can order around your peasants all you want, and hey! You can even claim Tetsu for yourself. I won't be here to bother your lovely sweet time. How does it –"

"Kuroko's not your personal toy, Aomine." Akashi finally found his voice. "Don't you dare," Something about his aura changed as his expression darkened drastically. "Degrade or belittle her with such mannerisms. She's not yours to play around with, and she will never be."

"Hoh, mad about that, out of all things? How nice! What are you going to do if I say all I was doing was actually playing around with her? Having some of my fun, I'd say! That yes, I was merely using her as my personal play-around toy," Kuroko's heart internally clenched – "and that I never liked her anyway? But even so, she fell for me! That's what happened, Akashi! I never –"

What occurred next was something that nobody expected.

Aomine was sprawled on the ground, Akashi's fist was outstretched, a resounding thump of skin and skin colliding had spread across the vicinity, and all divided attention was now gathered on one furious Akashi, and one astonished Aomine.

"You fucking bastard." Akashi whispered, venom coating his words. Surrounding others failed to hide their shock – they didn't know what to be more astounded about – the fact that the always cool, unaffected Akashi that kept a unbroken stance no matter what the circumstance, had cursed and jeered at Aomine, knocking the male over, or that Aomine wasn't actually doing in anything in return. "You're a fucking asshole, Aomine." Panting heavily, Akashi lashed his arm in the air with composure of absolute jurisdiction. "Get lost." He said with a hushed tone of finality.

Avoiding the other's fierce glare, Aomine recovered from the attack and stood up. He didn't leave extra commentary on whatever Akashi did – he merely departed from the gym, his footsteps sluggish and hazy.

Behind his steps followed a girl with a rather horrified look that contained a mixture of disbelief, agony, and bittersweet love.

How? Akashi gritted his teeth. How can you still follow his trails, after all he said? All willpower in his body seemed to be seeping out the tip of his very soul. He felt weak, weaker than he ever had in his whole life – weaker than when he was beaten by his own father endlessly for failing to produce satisfactory results in everything he did. How can you still love him, Kuroko?

Amongst his thoughts, a larger figure approached him. Akashi turned, and saw Murasakibara Atsushi looking down on him from above, his usually undetermined, wandering eyes now focused on him, hiding a purpose.

"Are you sure that what Aomine said doesn't include you, too?" Murasakibara spoke so normally, in such an ordinary fashion, that Akashi almost couldn't comprehend the true meaning behind his words. He also almost missed the fact that he wasn't putting his '-chin' suffix to use. "Answer me, Akashi."

His head ached. "I don't know what you're talking about, Murasakibara."

"You know perfectly what I'm talking about." The purple head was speaking with such a confident air, but it wasn't the kind of positive confidence. It was sorrowful, and venomous confidence. The one that someone that held a deadly grudge would contain. "I'm asking, that didn't you considerably play around with Kuroko as well."

Play around? Him? With Kuroko? No, he didn't.

He has a point there, though. A remarkable one.

"No, he does not." Akashi murmured aloud, as his inner self began to whisper within. He wanted to deny all this. Deny that this was even happening in the first place.

Oh yes, he does. You were playing around with her in an almost discreet sense, worse than Aomine. Hah, well, not like you would've noticed anyway. You cursed her with your spell, Akashi, my dear other self. See, you can't handle this situation by yourself.

A light shone upon another boy that was sitting with cool certainty flowing out of his body. Red hair, hetero-eyed, looking exactly like Akashi, revealing his inner voice, and his said other self.

The other Akashi Seijuro – that was him.

He smiled with nonchalant triumph, as he extended his hand towards Akashi.

Why not leave this to me, Akashi?

"No…" Akashi trembled, as he grasped the hem of his own shirt. "I refuse… to be taken over by –"

"I challenge you, Akashi." Murasakibara mumbled, breaking his minor moment.

"Fight me."

You'll need me for this Akashi…

Would you really refuse my offer to be taken over by me?

It was raining outside, again.

But Kuroko Tetsuya still ran, ripping through the falling bullets of liquid that seemed to behave like a hundred pairs of hands that were holding her back.

Aomine-kun.

"Toy."

Aomine-kun.

"Never loved…"

Aomine-kun.

"Lied."

Aomine-kun.

"I never…"

Please.

Aomine-kun.

Please.

Please.

"Please."

A male turned around, expressionless, drenched in water. His hands were placed by his sides as if he cared less about what happened to them, liquid trickling down his tanned skin, his indigo eyes holding no emotion whatsoever – but Kuroko saw it – was it regret? Was that a feeling of bitterness? Did he feel any kind of grief over the words he blurted out to her? Or did he not care anymore, just like how he was treating everyone?

So many questions swirled around her mind.

Was the warmness she could sense on her face the rain, or her tears? Was the pain that gradually took over her because she was physically exhausted, or because she didn't want to believe what Aomine said a few minutes ago was true? Were her lips quivering because she was running out of breath, or because she was trying to hold back her cries? Were her legs shaking because they were worn out from the sudden dash, or because she simply didn't have any energy remaining after that conversation?

Was her heart broken because she had never experienced love, or because of Aomine?

She couldn't tell anymore.

"What are you here for?" Aomine's tone sounded neither angry nor despondent. It was a boring monotone, indicating that he probably couldn't care more or less about how she felt at the moment. There was not even the slightest hint of consideration. Kuroko clutched the area near her chest.

Please.

"Is it true?" Her voice didn't resemble her at all. Even her own voice, her own words, her own syllables – they all seemed foreign and unlike her. "What you said –"

"Yes."

Don't.

No hesitation. No wavering.

No regret.

She had to hold it back. Fight it back. The tears, the cries, the pain, the sorrow, the everything-

"Do you remember how to catch my passes?"

"No."

Please.

"Do you remember how we used to play?"

"No."

Don't.

"Do you remember how we used to go home together?"

"No."

Aomine-kun.

"Do you remember how we used to eat ice cream together?"

"No."

I

"Do you remember anything about me?"

"No."

Love

"Do you remember that you loved me?"

You.

"No."

A/N: … Yeah. The end.

Anyway, please tell me how you felt about everything this chapter. I personally liked writing it.

Meiko Atsushi