Ship: Murasakibara/Himuro Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Original Work:link by kiyala Word Count: 416
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It would be easy to hate the person who made Tatsuya like this, except that’s a simplistic explanation made by adults who have forgotten everything. “Who told you that? Who made you like this?” Like it doesn’t always come down to you, in the end. Like it doesn’t come down to Tatsuya, the driver exhausting his fuel reserves, burning out to get to two hundred kilometers an hour, the ocean foam clinging to the sands of the beach, washed up on the shoreline. The struggle that he knows he cant win but he’s afraid to let go because isn’t it worse to fall further behind than to kill yourself trying?
It’s a mentality that Atsushi gets for a second before it disappeared, fish at a festival diving through his fingers before he can lift them from the water. It would be easy to hate Tatsuya for making himself do this, but Tatsuya hates himself so much (for making himself like this, for not being enough, for chasing that dream and falling behind) that it;s impossible. It’s not that Atsushi pities him; he certainly doesn’t envy that position but—why? Why does he keep going when he’ll never win? Is there some sort of security in this position that he hates but is at least familiar, the way of things? That’s not quite it, either, and Atsushi’s not going to exhaust himself trying to figure it out (not when it exhausts him just to watch Tatsuya wearing himself to the bone).
And it’s easier to touch him, to kiss him, to do it over and over again and make him accept that yes, he is difficult and self-centered and consumed by this single-minded pursuit, but that doesn’t make him unlovable. It doesn’t make him so easily crushed as sea foam, swallowed by the waves or stomped under flesh, disintegrating into the air. He’ll just let himself get spit back out, painted in a paler shade of green, the color on a crayon.
It would be easy to hate Tatsuya, but sometimes he makes it so hard, and maybe it’s hard for himself, a waste of energy but something he’s still determined to do out of some kind of stubbornness, the way he’s determined to make everyone else like the flat sticker facade he puts on, something far less likable than the ugly things that weigh him down, the things he tries to hide. Is it much of a consolation prize to win at that?
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Original Work: link by
Word Count: 416
***
It would be easy to hate the person who made Tatsuya like this, except that’s a simplistic explanation made by adults who have forgotten everything. “Who told you that? Who made you like this?” Like it doesn’t always come down to you, in the end. Like it doesn’t come down to Tatsuya, the driver exhausting his fuel reserves, burning out to get to two hundred kilometers an hour, the ocean foam clinging to the sands of the beach, washed up on the shoreline. The struggle that he knows he cant win but he’s afraid to let go because isn’t it worse to fall further behind than to kill yourself trying?
It’s a mentality that Atsushi gets for a second before it disappeared, fish at a festival diving through his fingers before he can lift them from the water. It would be easy to hate Tatsuya for making himself do this, but Tatsuya hates himself so much (for making himself like this, for not being enough, for chasing that dream and falling behind) that it;s impossible. It’s not that Atsushi pities him; he certainly doesn’t envy that position but—why? Why does he keep going when he’ll never win? Is there some sort of security in this position that he hates but is at least familiar, the way of things? That’s not quite it, either, and Atsushi’s not going to exhaust himself trying to figure it out (not when it exhausts him just to watch Tatsuya wearing himself to the bone).
And it’s easier to touch him, to kiss him, to do it over and over again and make him accept that yes, he is difficult and self-centered and consumed by this single-minded pursuit, but that doesn’t make him unlovable. It doesn’t make him so easily crushed as sea foam, swallowed by the waves or stomped under flesh, disintegrating into the air. He’ll just let himself get spit back out, painted in a paler shade of green, the color on a crayon.
It would be easy to hate Tatsuya, but sometimes he makes it so hard, and maybe it’s hard for himself, a waste of energy but something he’s still determined to do out of some kind of stubbornness, the way he’s determined to make everyone else like the flat sticker facade he puts on, something far less likable than the ugly things that weigh him down, the things he tries to hide. Is it much of a consolation prize to win at that?