Ship: Kagami/Himuro (+Kagami&Kuroko ig?) Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Original Work:link by kiyala Word Count: 601
***
“You miss him,” Tatsuya says. “Did you tell him?”
He can hear Taiga’s quiet breathing on the phone, thinks of the conversation cascading on in his head, the version of himself that accuses Taiga of not missing him, though, missing Kuroko more. Light and shadow, complements, they play so well together, a perfect match, fate—of course Taiga misses Kuroko; Kuroko’s his other half or something of the sort, the things people say that Tatsuya wonders—are they true? (He thinks of a version of himself who’s even lower, meaner, until that self ceases to be himself at all, saying shit he knows is a lie just to get Taiga to refute it only Taiga doesn’t, because he and Kuroko—)
“Tatsuya?”
“Yes, hello? Sorry.” (The first time they’ve talked in a week and Tatsuya’s not even listening, wrapped up in his shitty fantasies; what kind of friend is he, what kind of brother? What kind of person who even thinks about Taiga in that way?)
“It’s okay. I’m moving closer to the window; can you hear me better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
(He can see Taiga, Taiga now in the twin bed that’s too small for him, pushed up against the window like it was when they were kids, when they would gaze out at the sky together and talk about getting stars on the walk of fame, playing against each other every night in the Staples Center, that of course the NBA would rearrange the schedule just for them so that the Clippers and the Lakers would play 82 times a season and then in the finals, too.)
“I mean,” says Taiga. “I do miss him, but—those guys are fine without me. Like, if we’re not playing together…I know most of your friends are connected through basketball, and I know we are, but that’s different, you know?”
Tatsuya hums, assent to show he’s listening, trying not to feel smug or happy; those guys were Taiga’s best friends in Japan, weren’t they?
“We talk about other stuff, too, but…it’s awkward. I feel kind of bad for leaving. Kuroko’s a good guy, and I can’t blame him for being a little mad at me, and I do—I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” says Tatsuya.
“It’s okay; it’s not like—” Taiga sighs. “You know I miss you, though? Like, I know you’re planning on coming back home, and I just. We just caught up with each other and now.”
“You don’t have to talk around it,” says Tatsuya. “I really am sorry.”
“I know,” says Taiga. “I’m sorry about that, too, and I feel like it’s my fault this time that I’m—”
“Don’t even start with that,” says Tatsuya. “You’d be stupid not to take this opportunity, okay? I’m not mad at you.”
(He’s mad at himself, for not getting something similar, for not being able to follow Taiga back, for feeling so angry about all of this in the first place, for being so jealous of someone like Kuroko about everything, for making Taiga think for a second he should be sorry about pushing himself forward and taking a leap just because Tatsuya’s not capable and that’s his own goddamn problem.)
“I’m wearing my ring again,” Taiga blurts. “I know we decided we didn’t have to, but—”
“Me, too,” says Tatsuya, suddenly honest in the abrupt face of Taiga’s honestly, always so disarming against his bets defenses, and, well, it’s over the phone and Taiga’s back home an ocean away; the ring’s been on under his school shirt, resting warm and familiar and right all over again since Taiga had left.
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: 601
***
“You miss him,” Tatsuya says. “Did you tell him?”
He can hear Taiga’s quiet breathing on the phone, thinks of the conversation cascading on in his head, the version of himself that accuses Taiga of not missing him, though, missing Kuroko more. Light and shadow, complements, they play so well together, a perfect match, fate—of course Taiga misses Kuroko; Kuroko’s his other half or something of the sort, the things people say that Tatsuya wonders—are they true? (He thinks of a version of himself who’s even lower, meaner, until that self ceases to be himself at all, saying shit he knows is a lie just to get Taiga to refute it only Taiga doesn’t, because he and Kuroko—)
“Tatsuya?”
“Yes, hello? Sorry.” (The first time they’ve talked in a week and Tatsuya’s not even listening, wrapped up in his shitty fantasies; what kind of friend is he, what kind of brother? What kind of person who even thinks about Taiga in that way?)
“It’s okay. I’m moving closer to the window; can you hear me better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
(He can see Taiga, Taiga now in the twin bed that’s too small for him, pushed up against the window like it was when they were kids, when they would gaze out at the sky together and talk about getting stars on the walk of fame, playing against each other every night in the Staples Center, that of course the NBA would rearrange the schedule just for them so that the Clippers and the Lakers would play 82 times a season and then in the finals, too.)
“I mean,” says Taiga. “I do miss him, but—those guys are fine without me. Like, if we’re not playing together…I know most of your friends are connected through basketball, and I know we are, but that’s different, you know?”
Tatsuya hums, assent to show he’s listening, trying not to feel smug or happy; those guys were Taiga’s best friends in Japan, weren’t they?
“We talk about other stuff, too, but…it’s awkward. I feel kind of bad for leaving. Kuroko’s a good guy, and I can’t blame him for being a little mad at me, and I do—I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” says Tatsuya.
“It’s okay; it’s not like—” Taiga sighs. “You know I miss you, though? Like, I know you’re planning on coming back home, and I just. We just caught up with each other and now.”
“You don’t have to talk around it,” says Tatsuya. “I really am sorry.”
“I know,” says Taiga. “I’m sorry about that, too, and I feel like it’s my fault this time that I’m—”
“Don’t even start with that,” says Tatsuya. “You’d be stupid not to take this opportunity, okay? I’m not mad at you.”
(He’s mad at himself, for not getting something similar, for not being able to follow Taiga back, for feeling so angry about all of this in the first place, for being so jealous of someone like Kuroko about everything, for making Taiga think for a second he should be sorry about pushing himself forward and taking a leap just because Tatsuya’s not capable and that’s his own goddamn problem.)
“I’m wearing my ring again,” Taiga blurts. “I know we decided we didn’t have to, but—”
“Me, too,” says Tatsuya, suddenly honest in the abrupt face of Taiga’s honestly, always so disarming against his bets defenses, and, well, it’s over the phone and Taiga’s back home an ocean away; the ring’s been on under his school shirt, resting warm and familiar and right all over again since Taiga had left.