All it took was a plane crash, and Kise Ryota was no more.
Strangely enough, he didn't feel sadness, only regret. Regret for not checking his engine beforehand. Regret for missing out on his friends with his job as a pilot. Regret for not spending t...
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The sound of animated chatter invaded both friends' ears, most of the topic being basketball and what to eat for lunch, where to register and the players they saw. With one ear, Ryota listened to every player they passed by, one of his eyes mechanically trailing on every passerby's figure, assessing them and their team.
Though he wouldn't play in the matches as it only was for five men team, it didn't prevent the sleeping player in him from bubbling in excitement at the prospect of witnessing some games. Despite his words when he said he would retire and wanted to take his distances from the sport, Ryota was a basketball idiot. Well, he liked to think he wasn't in it as deep as Daikicchi and Taigacchi.
He loved the sport too much to let it go, the basketball player inside of him wouldn't— couldn't abandon it as if it was a mere thing of the past. Ryota could forsake a lot, give up a lot, but he couldn't quit basketball. Not in his former life and neither in his current life and never in his next ones if he were to have them.
Basketball, much like his ability to copy formed his essence— it made him Ryota, it made him, him. It was one of the last strings connecting him to the past, he couldn't afford to let go of it.
"Damn, I'm so hungry," Junichiro moaned as he inhaled the appetizing scents coming from the food stands a few meters away from them. "Mika you better buy me the whole cart or I'm not talking to you anymore," he sighed with a smile as his reddish-brown eyes roamed the food stalls from afar.
Ryota gave a dry laugh, nodding in resignation— tough the happy shine in his eyes at the male's living presence by his side wasn't hindered. "Let's not yeah? I don't think Claudecchi would approve—"
Junichiro gave the green head a look, his eyes minutely narrowed as he read the complicated look in his friend's golden irises but he decided to ignore it, for now. Instead, he let a challenging hum slip from his lips, raising a taunting eyebrow at his friend as if to dare him to defy him.
"I mean, sure, whatever you want Juncchi," Ryota blurted, a plastic smile on his face as he pulled his wallet out of his backpack. "What do you want to eat first?" he enthusiastically asked, already thinking of his soon to be dilapidated cash.
The raven's brown eyes narrowed, he took in the sham smile, his lips twitching in amusement before scanning all the stands. "I want takoyaki, crepes, sandwiches— ah, let's by some meat buns too!" the raven shamelessly began, pointing left and right to show his walking-cash-machine where the articles were.
Ryota followed, his plastic smile a bit strained as he shed an imaginary tear for his wallet. Ah, was Juncchi planning on feeding a regiment? Nonetheless, he silently complied with every one of the teen's demands as they got further into the park where the tournament took place.
