MiRACLE (KnB Fanfic)

10.

"And Number thirty-one, Kuroko Tetsuya. That's all."

As if a barrel of bricks had overturned on his head, Kuroko's face falls. His hand, reaching over to Aisaka's shirt, whiteknuckled.

In a painfully evident contrast, Aisaka isn't too surprised.

Fists clenched at his sides, Aisaka can't bring himself to look at Kuroko. But he manages a forced smile as he winds an arm around the boy's shoulder.

"It'll be fine, Tetsuya!" he assures in a way he can't really believe, "you heard the coach. There'll be periodical tests, so you'll always have the chance to come up to the second string with me! Then we can go to the first string togeth--"

"And now I'll announce the first string members."

Aisaka stops short.

There it is-- the horrifying worst case scenario he's been imagining for two years. It's happening, right at this moment, and he's hearing it.

"...number twenty-nine, Akashi Seijuurou... and number thirty-two, Aisaka Hiroto. That's all. You five will be training under me with the rest of your seniors in the first string."

Ah, Aisaka thinks.

This is officially fucked up. This was that kind of story, eh?

He doesn't hear Kuroko congratulate him. He can't bring himself to do something about the way Kuroko looks at him, mildly feeling betrayed but honestly overjoyed by it all the same.

Kuroko was a very kind person. He didn't let jealousy take him. He pouts and maybe makes Aisaka buy him milkshakes as a retaliation, but there was a real competitive underlying intent underneath.

"I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes," Aisaka holds out his fist, and he doesn't like how it's going at all, "playing without you wouldn't be any fun, after all!"

Kuroko bumps their fists together.

"See you after practice," he promises, because they'll walk home together. They split to their separate gyms-- and only looked back once.

-

"Aisaka, you made it!"

Maybe Aisaka should've been surprised to see Aomine there, but he can't bring himself to do anything like it.

It's obvious that Aomine would be there.

After all, he's one of the Generation of Miracles. Everything's just going according to the script plotted out far before this story even began.

The only thorn in the page was Aisaka.

He's an intruder.

"Why the long face? You made it in, right?"

Aomine's in front of him now, something like two seconds away from grinding his knuckles through the boy's knuckles.

Aisaka shakes away his depressed pout and slaps the discomposure out of his mind. This wasn't the time to be trying to remember the plotline of a story he's only watched out of spite.

"It's nothing," he decides, "thanks, Aomine. I'm glad there's a familiar face around... ah, Midorima!"

There's only five people in that corner of the gym, and they were all a strikingly colourful gang. Aisaka expertly doesn't point that out as he finds the green-haired boy, stepping in beside him.