Sunrays

'Since when had basketball become so boring?'

Kise Ryōta, fifth and last to join the Generation of Miracles found himself constantly repeating. He'd been sitting at home for a few hours now, fresh victory still flowing through his veins and memories from the Nationals. He hadn't doubted them, not even once.

Yet..

They hadn't even as much as smiled as the buzzer went off, he had - ofcourse he had. Someone had to do it, right? Pulling off their neat little game successfully, like it had been practice. Practice during the 'better' times, 'happier' times as he liked to call them.

When training wasn't depressing.

When everyone still attended-..

Kise grit his teeth. Frustration, that's what he feels. Pushing multiple brochure's away from the numerous schools out there that had decided to scout him, he uncerimoniously let his head slip away and bang against his desk. It had been a long day, filled with so many mixed emotions that he didn't even know where to begin sorting them out.

Closing his eyes didn't help, he still remembers it so vividly. Like it was haunting him.

Akashicchi had been offering his formal congratulations for another victory, more out of tradition than anything else. The other three in various states of disinterest, only Midorimacchi politely paying attention.

They had all been walking off the court, all except one. He had turned, expecting Kurokocchi to be silently trailing them as always, all cheery, smiling as he felt the rush of victory, ready to call over his mentor - only to have his victorious trek cut short.

Something inside him just seized to move.

Mouth half-way open, 'Kurokocchi' just about to roll off his tongue, he could do nothing but stare. Expression and waving hand frozen.

The first, and only thing his stupid head could've thought up right then and there was..

'Huh, I've never seen Kurokocchi cry..'

He'd so casually have pondered it, bewildered and still high on the adrenaline from another win. So blissfully unaware, so naive of what their little game had caused. He hadn't fully understood just what they had done.

It wasn't until Kurokocchi had turned to them that Kise could fully see just what the tears represented. The hollow quality of the Phantom Sixth Man's eyes still felt ingraved into his own retina, staring at their backs. Afraid.

His own mentor, his Kurokocchi that he always bothered after class with some ridiculous small-talk about fangirls, his teammate, his friend.

Kurokocchi met his stare, red-eyed, glassy and hollow, unlike he had ever seen the calm and collected eyes before. Kise could see his lips move, as if talking to himself - desperately clinging onto whatever he thought he had left.

And his mentor collapsed, drained. Kise's eyes fleetingly looked to his teammates, not one had stopped. It wasn't loud, it wasn't enough to catch the attention of the other four, as if they had already forgotten.

And then it hit him, it hit him so hard that he felt the burning sensation of petty tears for a brief moment.

When was the last time they had even praised him? He didn't even remember the last pass he recieved, the tingling sensation of a particularily strong one felt nostalgic of all things.

He cringed visibly, the unpleasant tug at his heart at seeing from his mentor in such a sorry state. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he departed without as much of a word to the others.

They didn't stop, just waving him off. 'Fangirls' they muttered.

Walking over to him, such a short distance felt like minutes. Nobody had noticed, ofcourse not. Everyone running off and around, jabbering on about the game they had watched.

'Scum', he heard.
'No sportsmanship', they said.

Kise grit his teeth, letting the bag fall to the gymnasium floor. Kneeling down, he prodded him. "Kurokocchi..?"

There was no response.

Admitting defeat so easily wasn't something Kise wished to do, yet he saw no other solution but to carry the injured boy back to the infirmary they had at the gymnasium. He brought Kurokocchi's arm up and around his neck, carefully turning the collapsed teenager on his back and hooking his right arm under his knees, left one on his back.

He could hear the mentally exhausted boy murmuring to himself in his delirium.

'Stop..', he heard.
'Don't leave..', Kurokocchi whispered franticly.

Hands were clawing at nothing. Grabbing at the fabric of his uniform, Kise couldn't help but think over the reason for this, and with a dreadful pit of self-loathing pooling at the bottom of his stomach, he felt he knew the answer already.

He didn't like it, not one bit, if this was the aftermath. Readjusting his grip on the boy, he set a steady rythm towards the infirmary.

And despite that, as he hoisted Kurokocchi up in a bridal-style carriage, he couldn't help but think over just how light the boy was. It wasn't even fazing him, even with it being just at the end of their final game.

They ruckus of an over-crowded gymnasium felt further and further off, almost sterile hallways replacing it as he silently made his way towards the infirmary.

Light..

Kise blinks blearly, brochure's scattered off everywhere. His room dark, solitary. He hadn't even bothered to switch out from his uniform.

When was the last time he truly had fun playing basketball..?

'I'm sorry, but please lend me your strength.'

He bows his head low as he remembers, fingers digging into his scalp at the thought. His hands start tingling, fingertips itching for the stray basketball he has in his room.

'I'm a shadow.'

He leaves his chair for the first time in what feels like hours, lazily flinging himself onto his bed, he reaches for the familiar ball he keeps next to him. Tracing the patterns.

'The light who will score all the points is Kise-kun.'

And it hits him, it hits him hard.

He laughs, it's a desperate, unwholly one that stems from just one thing.

Relief.

'Please don't take your eyes off the ball.'

He's really worrying over his sanity right now, and it feels fantastic.

'The score being what it is, I'm going to go all out.'

With a flick of his wrist, smile mirroring just that day - Kise Ryōta knows whom he'll follow after middle-school.

The ball doesn't even grace the rim of the makeshift hoop.

It takes a week for him to finally recieve an answer from Kurokocchi, it's a short and to the point text.

'No.'

He hadn't expected much, perhaps asking him to just go out and play basketball had been foolish, but it was the only way he knew how to connect with their Phantom Sixth Man. Kise didn't even know where the teenager lived.

Yet it takes another two weeks for him to recieve a more concrete answer indirectly, Akashicchi announcing Kurokocchi's premature resignition from the basketball team. He stutters in his half-hearted talk with another first-string member, head numbly turning towards their captain. He's a model, he knows how to keep his expressions neutral and not quite showing what he feels, yet it's barely enough this time.

Akashicchi doesn't even spare him a second glance, apparently focusing on Aominecchi, as if these news would hit him the hardest. It doesn't, their ace just snorts derisively. It's enough for Kise to know just how far they've all fallen, and while he hardly considers himself a saint when it comes to how they've treated others, he can't help but feel like one in comparison to Aominecchi.

Their captain announces that practice is over, having gone over it's intended time due to this brief announcement. He puts on his best fake-smile, laughing it off as he departs in a hurry - as soon as he has rounded the corner of the gym, Kise takes off with a sprint.

He knows just where to go.

And it doesn't take long, not having been required to train as hard as the others in the first-string proves useful for once. He see's the illuminated sign of 'Maji Burger' as he passes the last right turn.

He's breathing heavily at this point, completely uncool as he enters the restaurant but he couldn't for the life of him care less. Heads turn, they always do, and he doesn't have enough time to worry.

Like a madman, Kise Ryōta searches through all the empty tables, even go as far as reaching into the booth's seats to just incase his friend was truly invisible.

As he's just about to give up, the last table proves to be just where the Phantom Sixth Man sits. His hand connects with a body, and without even feeling an ounce of shame he grabs a fistful of the smaller boy's uniform.

It's just so he won't slip away, he tells himself.

The pale boy stares back at him, and to his relief it's not the eyes that's been haunting him for the past weeks.

"Can I help you, Kise-kun?" There's the brief crinkle to his eyes that shows that he's atleast faintly amused by his frantic search.

Holding up his hand as if to signal that he needs a moment, Kise Ryōta laments his recent lack of practice that has led to this. Having collected himself briefly, he's back to his charming self.

"So cold, Kurokocchi!" He whines, and it feels just like old times. "I've been looking for you for weeks!"

A slurp of vanilla-shake later, his mentor responds with the same calm, flashing him the screen of his cellphone. "I know." His inbox shows forty read messages.

Kise can't help but grin wide, laughing it off with a wave of his hand. "Still cold, Kurokocchi!" He looks off towards the counter, spotting no awaiting customers he tells his mentor to wait for just a second. Wiggling out of the too-small booth, he heads off.

As he returns, it's a Kurokocchi who's eyes are glued to the object he's offering up awaiting him. He pushes the new vanilla-shake across their table, content to just watch his friend now that he hasn't seen him in weeks.

"Thank you, Kise-kun." The smaller boy offers, no more words needed. Kise just nods in return.

It's unlike him to be so quiet, so he's not surprised when his mentor speaks up first.

"Seirin."

"Huh?" He doesn't get it.

His mentor squirms in his seat, as if unsure - or as unsure as Kurokocchi can look.

"I'm going to Seirin." He gets it now, and he can't help the words coming out of his mouth.

"New school?" Kise can't for the life of him remember any high-school that has scouted him named 'Seirin'.

"One year old." The Phantom Sixth Man offers, straw never leaving his lips. "They got through the preliminaries last year.", he adds.

A smile adorns his own lips, nodding along with his mentor. He looks relaxed, despite all. "With only freshmen?" Kise inquires, interested.

Kurokocchi mirrors his own nod, "Yes." It quells his brief interest, silence reigning uncharacteristicly after.

Kise fidgets just slightly in his seat, gaze shifting from the windows to his table-companion. He's unsure just how much Kurokocchi knows, he left him in the care of the doctor present. It tugs at his conscience to know that he just abandoned his friend after that.

"I saw, you know-.." He starts, uncertain and cutting himself off. As if to reformulate his thoughts, he begins anew, his mentor seeming to patiently waiting him out.

"I saw how you looked at-.. at us, after the finals." It's much more than he's willing to admit, but something just tells him to get it over with.

Kurokocchi just tilts his head.

"I didn't like it.." Kise Ryōta finds himself sharing with his mentor, it's both a relief and a nightmare. He feels like the weight that's been hanging over his cheerful self gone for just this fleeting moment.

And the Copy-Cat does something he has never done before, to anyone. He bows his head low in shame, seeking just that brief forgiveness to appease his selfish nagging and he hates it.

"I'm sorry." He truly does mean it.

Kise doesn't let his head budge from it's position, awaiting any answer possible from their Phantom Sixth Man.

A minute passes and the blonde hears nothing, yet he won't falter.

Five minutes pass, finding himself almost counting the seconds now that it's been this long. His internal need to just chatter away forcibly quelled.

Fifteen minutes have come and gone, his hopes of any forgiveness growing slimmer by the second. He's just about to let his head rise, to look up at whatever expression the boy was giving him until, a much smaller hand pats his head.

Once, twice.

Then it's just gone, retracted. Kise does look up now, and his mentor's sitting in the same spot, with the same expression as before - both hands holding onto his shake. As if nothing had ever occured.

"It's okay." He hears, eyes snapping to the Phantom Sixth Man's face so fast he's almost disoriented. Catching a smile so small he's unsure if he ever saw it, but it's enough.

It's enough for now.

He knows what he has to do, it's been on his mind for weeks.

And Kise Ryōta shoots a wide grin over to his mentor, mirroring just that day.

"Hey, Kurokocchi? Could you tell me a little bit more about Seirin?"

This might stay as a one-shot as I'm unsure just how the response to this might be, please do tell me how to proceed.

Criticism always welcome, even harsh ones.