Major Tags: None Other Tags: Implied violence, kirisaki daiichi, angst Word Count: 479
***
Kuroko's eyes are empty as Aomine pushes him against the wall, fingers curled in the dark aquamarine jersey.
"Tetsu." His voice is trembling and he knows it. Kuroko knows it too, but his expression is as impassive as ever. No, Aomine thinks, it's different. Worse, somehow. The Kuroko he knew wouldn't have been impassive here; he wouldn't be emotionless the way this one is, looking at Aomine almost as if he's bored.
"I have to get back to my locker room," Kuroko says, as if Aomine standing here in front of him is entirely inconsequential. "Shouldn't you be concerned about your teammate, instead of me?"
Aomine tightens his grip on Kuroko's jersey. "You were my teammate too. You were never like this before. The Tetsu I know—"
He trails off, thinking of Kuroko fitting so perfectly into the web weaved by Hanamiya, supporting him and breaking opponents, using his misdirection in all the wrong ways. Akashi wouldn't have wanted this. None of them would have wanted this.
"There are two types of basketball players," Kuroko says, looking away from Aomine. "Those who keep up, and those who are left behind as trash. You taught me that."
"I didn't—" Aomine begins, but stops, thinking of all the times he'd walked away from Kuroko without a backwards glance, all the times Kuroko reached out only to close his fingers around nothing. "I didn't mean to. Come on Tetsu, you're better than this. I know you."
"Mm." Kuroko pulls Aomine's hands away from his jersey and his grip isn't particularly strong, but it's effective all the same. Aomine's hands fall away to his sides, trembling a little, burning with the residual warmth of Kuroko's hands that's too quick to fade. "I thought that once too. If you'll excuse me."
In that moment, Aomine thinks he knows exactly how it felt for Kuroko, every time he walked away. He's on the receiving end of that now, watching Kuroko walk as if he's in a world that Aomine isn't part of; that has no room for him at all.
He exhales shakily, his thoughts too jumbled for him to realise that there's someone standing behind him until he hears the laugh.
"This is amazing." It's Hanamiya, his arms folded across his chest, lips twisted into a cruel smirk, eyes dancing with amusement. "I just wanted to play you guys so I could test how far we've come against Imayoshi's team but this… this is so much better than anything I could have asked for. It's even better than the face your teammate made when he went down. What was his name again?"
Aomine balls his hand into a fist, but Hanamiya pats his shoulder, already walking past him.
"I'll see you in the second half," Hanamiya says, waving without a look backwards. "But maybe not all of it. We'll see what breaks first, huh?"
FILL: TEAM KAGEYAMA TOBIO/OIKAWA TOORU, T
Other Tags: Implied violence, kirisaki daiichi, angst
Word Count: 479
***
Kuroko's eyes are empty as Aomine pushes him against the wall, fingers curled in the dark aquamarine jersey.
"Tetsu." His voice is trembling and he knows it. Kuroko knows it too, but his expression is as impassive as ever. No, Aomine thinks, it's different. Worse, somehow. The Kuroko he knew wouldn't have been impassive here; he wouldn't be emotionless the way this one is, looking at Aomine almost as if he's bored.
"I have to get back to my locker room," Kuroko says, as if Aomine standing here in front of him is entirely inconsequential. "Shouldn't you be concerned about your teammate, instead of me?"
Aomine tightens his grip on Kuroko's jersey. "You were my teammate too. You were never like this before. The Tetsu I know—"
He trails off, thinking of Kuroko fitting so perfectly into the web weaved by Hanamiya, supporting him and breaking opponents, using his misdirection in all the wrong ways. Akashi wouldn't have wanted this. None of them would have wanted this.
"There are two types of basketball players," Kuroko says, looking away from Aomine. "Those who keep up, and those who are left behind as trash. You taught me that."
"I didn't—" Aomine begins, but stops, thinking of all the times he'd walked away from Kuroko without a backwards glance, all the times Kuroko reached out only to close his fingers around nothing. "I didn't mean to. Come on Tetsu, you're better than this. I know you."
"Mm." Kuroko pulls Aomine's hands away from his jersey and his grip isn't particularly strong, but it's effective all the same. Aomine's hands fall away to his sides, trembling a little, burning with the residual warmth of Kuroko's hands that's too quick to fade. "I thought that once too. If you'll excuse me."
In that moment, Aomine thinks he knows exactly how it felt for Kuroko, every time he walked away. He's on the receiving end of that now, watching Kuroko walk as if he's in a world that Aomine isn't part of; that has no room for him at all.
He exhales shakily, his thoughts too jumbled for him to realise that there's someone standing behind him until he hears the laugh.
"This is amazing." It's Hanamiya, his arms folded across his chest, lips twisted into a cruel smirk, eyes dancing with amusement. "I just wanted to play you guys so I could test how far we've come against Imayoshi's team but this… this is so much better than anything I could have asked for. It's even better than the face your teammate made when he went down. What was his name again?"
Aomine balls his hand into a fist, but Hanamiya pats his shoulder, already walking past him.
"I'll see you in the second half," Hanamiya says, waving without a look backwards. "But maybe not all of it. We'll see what breaks first, huh?"