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There was a single slice of time during the third quarter when the clock decided that it was seriously done with their shit, all of their shit, and that the appropriate response to its plight was to release a strangled breath across the entirety of the court, momentarily lifting the laws of relative velocity to freeze each athlete into the backdrop of a poignant panoramic photograph. Several lifetimes passed, the photo paper curled up and yellowed, and a cat crossed the sidewalk near Shige’s house. This freeze wore off as quickly as it had been applied and afterwards nothing seemed different, but any single player on the basketball court that day could tell you that the circumstances had totally changed.
For example, Shige quit playing.
Quite honestly, he could’ve continued on with basketball even after suffering humiliation at the hands of some fucked-up numbers game that Teikou wanted to play. He’d spent an entire childhood breathing basketball into his bones, after all. Practiced his drills and ran enough laps to cover the distance from here to Hokkaido. But the clock made it different for him. Its cold breath knocked him clean out of the court and into a sinking cardboard boat, flicked hot sparks of love into his hair and made him realize, in a bright flash of happiness and hopelessness and sheer helplessness – so this is the difference between him and me.
It was properly ironic, falling for somebody who was about to beat your love into a bloody pulp without so much as breaking a sweat.
When the game was over, Shige left the court with his heart pounding harder and louder than it had been when he’d begun.
He was pushing coins into the vending machine when he heard a cough behind him, and turning around he half-expected to see Kuroko standing there, ready to defend himself should the opportunity arise (never mind that he was Kuroko and just by being Kuroko he didn’t need to defend himself in front of Shige at all). But it was only that green-haired boy with the taped fingers, the Teikou regular who had spent most of his court-time guarding Shige’s captain. Shige remembered him. Kimura-buchou hadn’t scored a single point in the first half of the game.
“Hi,” he said to Shige.
“Hi,” Shige said awkwardly, and retrieved his drink from the bottom of the machine. “Can I help you?” It was probably best to be polite. He’d just been destroyed and reduced to an inch of his entire basketball career by this sick bastard, but it was probably best to be polite.
“Listen,” the boy told Shige, “you’re fucked.”
“What?” said Shige.
“You’re a Leo, aren’t you? Congratulations, your luck is the worst today.”
Shige stared at him blankly.
“Look,” said the boy, “I normally wouldn’t talk to a loser like you, but because it’s concerning Akashi, I’m going out of my way here.” He took a deep breath. “I know what you’re thinking right now. Because sometimes I feel the same.Well I-I mean, that’s none of your business, but – just, you shouldn’t.”
Shige shook his head, not following. “I…shouldn’t?”
“You shouldn’t,” Midorima insisted.
“…Okay,” said Shige. “I won’t, then.”
Later, he passed by the Teikou locker rooms again. The door was half-open and he could see Akashi talking to someone inside. He was shaking his head, but on his lips there was the hint of a strange smile. What was it, power or pride? No, it was something more complicated than that. What a scary guy, that Akashi Seijuurou. Shige could feel his cardboard boat rocking against the tide.