Ship/Character: Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: n o n e Other Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Tags :) Word Count: 557 Remix Permission: please ask
WE'RE ALL DYING TONIGHT. WE'RE REALLY DYING HERE
***
They meet at the shrine, the sun still absent from the sky. Winter is a cold time to be visiting shrines, much less before the sun has risen. It is a sort of tradition for both of them, an unspoken expectation to see each other here every year. Even after the events of the year, they are both still here, facing each other for the first time in months.
Midorima watches as Akashi goes through the motions of prayer. Bow, clap, ring the bell. Bow and clap again.
Prayer is seeking absolution for sins, committed knowingly or unknowingly. Prayer is beseeching protection or grace, a failsafe. Gods are fickle, and Midorima's always believed in preparing as best he can for whatever circumstances may befall him. But he could never have predicted this, the dredging up the past, all their reasons laid bare.
We never talk about Teiko.
There's nothing to talk about.
A lie, Midorima knows. But he lets Akashi decide when to talk about it; he's always been patient in these things. He supposes he just didn't expect it to be now, or for Akashi to be so frank.
Let's talk about it. All of it.
After everything, Midorima still wishes it was easier to explain, to have it explained to him in a way he can understand. He wants to trace the paths, see the causality and say see, look. Here, this is where we went wrong, this is how.
“It would be easier, if it was my fault.” he says.
“Why?”
“Then I could do something about it. I could have stopped it. Or fixed it. Something.” The words are abrupt, halting. He doesn't know if these are the right words, or if he could have done anything then. But he still feels a sense of helpless responsibility, still carrying the sins of their youth into adulthood. In the wake of the past year and all his losses, Midorima stopped to consider all his regrets up to now. He still thinks about Teiko, the way things had spiralled out of control, how helpless he had been, watching it all happen. Shot after shot from the half line, then from the free throw line, all the way to the end of the court. He thinks about the day he decided enough, no more and walked away.
“You couldn't have done anything. It was hardly your fault.”
“That's not the point, Akashi.”
“I know.” Midorima studies his hands, how they have changed from those years. No more basketball calluses, no more wrapping his fingers. His nails are still neatly clipped and filed, but without the care and attention he used to do it with. How they have all changed, with the passing of the years.
“I'm sorry.” Akashi's apology is accompanied by a cold wind, like it has come to carry their regrets away. But they weigh heavy, sinking instead.
“I think we are past apologies, are we not?” Midorima asks.
“Perhaps. But it does not mean I do not owe you one.” They face each other, and Midorima thinks that perhaps this is the first time he’s seeing Akashi clearly, properly. Perhaps it is time to bury their ghosts and regrets, lay them to rest in under cold stone and snow.
“Thank you.” Perhaps one day, he will forgive himself and Akashi this as well.
FILL: Team Knife Emoji, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: n o n e
Other Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Tags :)
Word Count: 557
Remix Permission: please ask
WE'RE ALL DYING TONIGHT. WE'RE REALLY DYING HERE
***
They meet at the shrine, the sun still absent from the sky. Winter is a cold time to be visiting shrines, much less before the sun has risen. It is a sort of tradition for both of them, an unspoken expectation to see each other here every year. Even after the events of the year, they are both still here, facing each other for the first time in months.
Midorima watches as Akashi goes through the motions of prayer. Bow, clap, ring the bell. Bow and clap again.
Prayer is seeking absolution for sins, committed knowingly or unknowingly. Prayer is beseeching protection or grace, a failsafe. Gods are fickle, and Midorima's always believed in preparing as best he can for whatever circumstances may befall him. But he could never have predicted this, the dredging up the past, all their reasons laid bare.
We never talk about Teiko.
There's nothing to talk about.
A lie, Midorima knows. But he lets Akashi decide when to talk about it; he's always been patient in these things. He supposes he just didn't expect it to be now, or for Akashi to be so frank.
Let's talk about it. All of it.
After everything, Midorima still wishes it was easier to explain, to have it explained to him in a way he can understand. He wants to trace the paths, see the causality and say see, look. Here, this is where we went wrong, this is how.
“It would be easier, if it was my fault.” he says.
“Why?”
“Then I could do something about it. I could have stopped it. Or fixed it. Something.” The words are abrupt, halting. He doesn't know if these are the right words, or if he could have done anything then. But he still feels a sense of helpless responsibility, still carrying the sins of their youth into adulthood. In the wake of the past year and all his losses, Midorima stopped to consider all his regrets up to now. He still thinks about Teiko, the way things had spiralled out of control, how helpless he had been, watching it all happen. Shot after shot from the half line, then from the free throw line, all the way to the end of the court. He thinks about the day he decided enough, no more and walked away.
“You couldn't have done anything. It was hardly your fault.”
“That's not the point, Akashi.”
“I know.” Midorima studies his hands, how they have changed from those years. No more basketball calluses, no more wrapping his fingers. His nails are still neatly clipped and filed, but without the care and attention he used to do it with. How they have all changed, with the passing of the years.
“I'm sorry.” Akashi's apology is accompanied by a cold wind, like it has come to carry their regrets away. But they weigh heavy, sinking instead.
“I think we are past apologies, are we not?” Midorima asks.
“Perhaps. But it does not mean I do not owe you one.” They face each other, and Midorima thinks that perhaps this is the first time he’s seeing Akashi clearly, properly. Perhaps it is time to bury their ghosts and regrets, lay them to rest in under cold stone and snow.
“Thank you.” Perhaps one day, he will forgive himself and Akashi this as well.