Ship: Murasakibara & Hanamiya Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Square: Murasakibara at Kirisaki Daīchi Word Count: 439
***
Seto and Matsumoto are no match for him, but Murasakibara doesn’t mind sitting out sometimes. It makes him a little bit impatient sometimes (not that he loves basketball with pure-hearted enthusiasm; he’s just good at it), tapping the toe of his sneaker against the floor and looking straight at Hanamiya.
“Respect your coach,” says Hanamiya.
Sometimes Murasakibara wishes he’d gone to Yosen; their coach had seemed just as harsh as Hanamiya but much prettier. He’s told Hanamiya as much, and Hanamiya has asked him if he wants to get smacked. For all of his posturing, Hanamiya is very much not Akashi and so it’s easy not to take him seriously (and, well, it’s not like any of Murasakibara’s teammates really do, either).
He always gets in anyway, even when Hanamiya wants to play the B-Squad and sit back; he knows Murasakibara hates losing and if he needs to he can turn the tide of the game Kirisaki Daiichi’s way singlehandedly. Not that he particularly enjoys it; it’s fun when he doesn’t have to try as hard. He’ll tell that to Hanamiya and Hanamiya will take it as a compliment (he’ll do anything to pad his ego, not that Murasakibara’s not used to people like that).
It usually works, though; he gets his own ass off the bench and goes out and plays, shoots with precision and passes through the spiderweb, himself to Seto (much better at this kind of thing than Kuroko ever was, and he’s under no illusion that the two of them are friends, either) to Murasakibara and back. It gives them flexibility, not quite like Teikou even on the best days, but close enough.
Sometimes Murasakibara wonders how Akashi’s doing in Kyoto with his second-rate superteam; sometimes he plays one of the others and their stupid companions, easily crushed under a foot or under a dunk (or both; he’s learned to be a little bit less picky and doesn’t mind the extra emphasis). They’re all clinging to Teikou in their own ways; Murasakibara supposes his way is that he’s still thinking of them as a set, things that go together. Maybe they do at first glance, but when you look closer, Murasakibara belongs here, in black and green instead of blue and white, no matter what illusions Kuroko (him again) has about teaching them his self-righteous little lessons. A tree splintered by lightning is still dead even if you try and glue it back together, and Murasakibara’s not interested in illusions when he can feel the smack of solid metal hoops under his palms or the tearing of flesh under his foot.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, C3, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Square: Murasakibara at Kirisaki Daīchi
Word Count: 439
***
Seto and Matsumoto are no match for him, but Murasakibara doesn’t mind sitting out sometimes. It makes him a little bit impatient sometimes (not that he loves basketball with pure-hearted enthusiasm; he’s just good at it), tapping the toe of his sneaker against the floor and looking straight at Hanamiya.
“Respect your coach,” says Hanamiya.
Sometimes Murasakibara wishes he’d gone to Yosen; their coach had seemed just as harsh as Hanamiya but much prettier. He’s told Hanamiya as much, and Hanamiya has asked him if he wants to get smacked. For all of his posturing, Hanamiya is very much not Akashi and so it’s easy not to take him seriously (and, well, it’s not like any of Murasakibara’s teammates really do, either).
He always gets in anyway, even when Hanamiya wants to play the B-Squad and sit back; he knows Murasakibara hates losing and if he needs to he can turn the tide of the game Kirisaki Daiichi’s way singlehandedly. Not that he particularly enjoys it; it’s fun when he doesn’t have to try as hard. He’ll tell that to Hanamiya and Hanamiya will take it as a compliment (he’ll do anything to pad his ego, not that Murasakibara’s not used to people like that).
It usually works, though; he gets his own ass off the bench and goes out and plays, shoots with precision and passes through the spiderweb, himself to Seto (much better at this kind of thing than Kuroko ever was, and he’s under no illusion that the two of them are friends, either) to Murasakibara and back. It gives them flexibility, not quite like Teikou even on the best days, but close enough.
Sometimes Murasakibara wonders how Akashi’s doing in Kyoto with his second-rate superteam; sometimes he plays one of the others and their stupid companions, easily crushed under a foot or under a dunk (or both; he’s learned to be a little bit less picky and doesn’t mind the extra emphasis). They’re all clinging to Teikou in their own ways; Murasakibara supposes his way is that he’s still thinking of them as a set, things that go together. Maybe they do at first glance, but when you look closer, Murasakibara belongs here, in black and green instead of blue and white, no matter what illusions Kuroko (him again) has about teaching them his self-righteous little lessons. A tree splintered by lightning is still dead even if you try and glue it back together, and Murasakibara’s not interested in illusions when he can feel the smack of solid metal hoops under his palms or the tearing of flesh under his foot.