MiRACLE (KnB Fanfic)

6.

It didn't matter which life it was, his passion was always for basketball.

He feels the rough of the ball grind through his palm, release from his hold-- he leaps higher than ever before, and slams it down the hoop.

He hangs heavily on the hoop, listening to the creak of the rusted steel for a bitingly long moment-- and he releases, distributing his weight to land on both his hands and feet. That was too high of a drop for hm to not injure his legs, after all.

He lifts his head, and the next breath is liberating . Accomplished. So impossibly sweet and for a moment, it's like he's won the world.

Almost a year since his first day here, and he finally manages to dunk.

Beside him, Ogiwara cheers and, like the mood-killing lump of energy he always is, he dives Aisaka into the ground, laughter coming out like half snort, half sob.

"You've grown so much," he sobs fakely and Aisaka bonks him over the head, "I remember like yesterday, you couldn't even speak a straight sentence to Kuroko!"

Aisaka flushes. "It's not that big of a deal!" He was the type to only manage speaking well once he was comfortable. He did not like it being pointed out so clearly. Was he that obvious? Okay maybe but--

"You were flying," Kuroko enters the conversation, everything and awe in his voice. There's a look in his eyes, a mix of horror and surprise and bafflement that wasn't going anywhere else anytime soon. "You were flying ," he says again, because it apparently needs to be repeated.

With the three of them, there is no better trio. Aisaka is solid in the rear, Kuroko sticks them together, and Ogiwara continues to drag their pace forward. It's an easy push and pull, gentle and as natural as water in a river.

Aisaka enjoys that. It's a little dull compared to his old endeavours, but it's nice too.

It's awesome, the feeling of slowly, surely, building your body back up. Watching yourself grow like a new sprout, and feeling a rush of joy when a new leaf sets into shape. Aisaka loves progress. He's trained youths in his past, he can never get over the exhilaration of documenting every moment of new talent.

You were flying, Kuroko says.

And he'll keep flying, higher and higher, forever.

At least, he wanted to.

-

"Send letters, alright?" Aisaka nudges the brown-haired boy in the arm, "or an email, cause y'know your handwriting's way too awful for the life of both of us."

Ogiwara pulls Aisaka's neck into a rough hold, mussling up his hair with a low growl, then pulling on the boy's cheeks and stretching them wide, "why are you never cute? Is this mouth the one that's being cheeky? Kuroko, bring the duct tape."

"Ahbooze, abuuoooze!" Aisaka protests, weakly patting at the taller boy's wrists. He was probably trying to say 'abuse', but Kuroko could only guess.

"I look forward to seeing you again, Ogiwara-kun," Kuroko's words are in their usual monotone, much less taunting and even itching with a hint of a smile as he gives a very polite, "have a safe trip."

"There!" Ogiwara gestures dramatically at Kuroko, like he's worthy of the greatest gems, "that's how you're supposed to do it, Aisaka. Learn from him!"

Aisaka pouts, not acknowledging the tiny smile Kuroko gives in response, as if he was proving his point with a snarky, haha-I'm-the-favourite-child look. Aisaka snorts against it.

Their fists join in a center, and they smile.

"The next time we meet, it'll be me against the two of you!" Ogiwara whines half-heartedly, like it's not fair but he loves the thought of it.

It'll probably be just Ogiwara and Aisaka, though. 

Kuroko was weak in comparison and they all knew it-- but nothing felt forced about the way they said it. Kuroko wasn't a burden-- he was the advantage both of them wanted desperately to have. Ogiwara just drew the short straw.

"See ya, Ogiwara."

It's late into sixth grade when Ogiwara leaves. The court feels a little emptier from then, the noisiest of them vanished-- and games were always a little quieter.

But that didn't make it less fun.

Kuroko watches Aisaka grow, get better, and improve-- but he advances too. He trains and they practice. They work their hardest. They play streetball, not just with each other, but with strangers they come across on their days, and with new friends they make once in a while.

It's a little lonelier, but they manage.

After all, they promised. They exchanged letters and huddled around to read and write back. It was dumb, childish, but enjoyable.

-

It's on a day when Kuroko has remedial classes.

Aisaka, ditching self study, wanders away from the court he usually frequents. If he went there, he'd get absorbed and wouldn't be able to stop himself from grinding till sundown-- so he wanders to the playground instead, and finds something else.

Deja vu bites him in the ass.

The bounce of a basketball against pavement, and a sharp shuttle of a hoop as the ball goes through-- he finds himself staring before he knows it.

Basketball had that sort of magic to him. He sees it and it's a beauty that never fades, but only grows more magnificent with time.

Today, he watches a fellow twelve-year-old score the most beautiful dunk he's ever seen, and the breath is gone from him.

It's not a steel basketball stand, but it stood at the right height. There's that crackle and that sharp shriek of strained nails as his weight drags the hoop down. It clutters and bounces back up when he lets go-- and he lands, staggering in his steps as an evident cringe shoots up his feet from the high drop.

"You did it, you did it!"

That's when Aisaka notices the pink-haired girl beside them, sitting at the swings and watching with bated expectations. At the score, she jumps and actually throws herself onto the boy, who yelps but doesn't topple over.

"Oh c'mon, Satsuki, it's not that big of a deal," the boy groans, trying to shove her off of him but she was solid there, "off. Off."

"But you've been trying for ages to get a dunk!" the girl whines, and is she crying? Oh my god, "you jumped so high!!"

Aisaka catches the basketball before it rolls too far away, picking it up. That's when the two notice him watching.

"Who're you?" the boy looks at him weirdly.

Aisaka almost laughs, but he settles on a smile. Maybe it is weird to be staring at a boy playing basketball in this world. In the old world, it wasn't exactly uncommon to have an audience when you play outside. This was one weird world.

"That was a cool dunk!" Aisaka says, and it strikes him how easily the words come.

It's only been a year since he actually began to re learn Japanese, but he could speak it normally now. He's more open than he was a few months back when he first met Kuroko.

It's like Aisaka is slowly, but surely, assimilating into this body, and taking in what this body used to know and growing out of the flaws in his system.

Who was this body before he invaded it?

"Hey, you," he passes the ball back to them, "wanna play a one-on-one?"

The boy snorts. Maybe it's the fact that Aisaka doesn't have a lot of bulk in him. He doesn't look like he'll be much-- but that isn't underestimation in his eyes. Those are sheerly excited glances as he looks Aisaka up and down, trying to figure out how to get through him before they even begin.

Aisaka instantly knows this will be a fun game.