AN: Hey ho, been a while. The Haikyuu AU is here! 

This oneshot is set after the depressive episode. Instead of moving to America and having an aunt called Alexandra Garcia, Hiroto moves to Miyagi to live with his uncle Ukai Keishin. 

He never reconnects with the MiraGen like in the fic, so everything on the KnB side of the situation happens in line with the anime/manga canon.

Small trivia: The ending of this chapter is actually closer to what I expected the main story to end-- but I changed it up to make a nicer conclusion.

-

"You sure you don't wanna join the basketball club, Hiroto?"

Aisaka Hiroto shakes his head in response.

Ukai Keishin is having a moody teenager situation. His nephew, who he was going to have to take care of from now on, has not spoken a single word to him beyond the occasional 'thank you' when he receives something.

Sure, nobody likes being taken away from the bustling city of Tokyo into the remote countryside of Miyagi, but this wasn't helping the situation.

The blue school-issued blazer makes the kid look smaller than he was, though maybe the slouch on his back had something to do with it. Ukai is honestly impressed-- a whopping 170 centimeters, yet he looks like a twig in his clothes.

His hair-- a surprising shock of not-dyed indigo, was left untied.

"You really look like Otoha when your hair's like that," Keishin comments offhandedly. When the kid casts him a curious look, Keishin adds on, "what, you don't know your mom's name or something?"

Aisaka shakes his head again, and Keishin sighs. If his brother-in-law was still alive, Ukai would lunge right over and punch him in the skull.

Nevermind, nevermind.

"You know the way to the school?"

A nod.

"You know how to get to the principal's office from there?"

A slightly more hesitant nod.

"...would you like me to hand them a note instead?"

A pause. Then a nod.

Ukai sighs. Looks like this silent exchange was going to be a thing for a little longer.

-

To whom it may concern,

This is Ukai Keishin, I had spoken to you a week ago regarding the transfer of my nephew, Aisaka Hiroto, into your school. I am not able to make it to school grounds today due to work, but if you are reading this, I trust that Hiroto has made it there safely.

Principal Kamamoto looks at the teenager in front of him.

Said teenager, with ruffled clothing, disheveled form, heavy breaths and a bunch of tree leaves between his hair-- is that a cat's claw scratch on his face? What on earth did he even do? Oh, there's mud all over his blazer.

(No, Ukai-kun, your nephew certainly did not reach here safely. It is already recess. Where has he been for that last three hours? I don't think I want to know.)

I'm honestly unsure of the situation myself, but he's a rather shy individual, so he might not wish to speak to you. He doesn't even speak to me, but he understands speech and will respond with gestures when prompted. He is going through some internal turmoil at the moment, so I ask that you extend your understanding to his current mental state..

Sincerely, Ukai Keishin.

With a palm to his face, and a very heavy sigh (which elicits a flinch from the boy in front of him,) the Principal waves in the boy from the corner of the room.

"Sorry to call you in so suddenly, Kunimi-kun. This is Aisaka Hiroto, he'll be in your class from today on. Could you show him around, then bring him with you to class later on? I'll pass the message on to your particular subject teacher to introduce him officially after that."

Kunimi Akira, class president of 2-4, responds with a firm nod.

They're excused from the office after that, and in the hallways, there's silence. Kunimi was not a talkative sort, and at this point it was obvious that the new kid wasn't, too. That sucks. That absolutely sucks, because it means Kunimi will have to do the talking.

Kunimi turns to the new student, and freezes.

He hadn't seen it well from behind, when they were in the Principal's office-- but this kid's a mess. Is that a hole in his blazer? Is that mud on his shirt? Are those twigs in his hair? Dear lord.

"Oho, if that isn't li'l Kunimi-chan?" came an obnoxious, painfully familiar voice.

Kunimi 'urk'ed. He doesn't suppress the disgruntled expression on his face when he turns around and looks Oikawa Tooru in the face.

"What are you doing here, Oikawa-senpai?" he groans, "you graduated already, stop coming back here for no reason. Do you have too much free time in high school?"

"Woah, Kunimi-chan's giving me sharp words right off the bat today, you must be stressed out," Oikawa mused, completely unaffected, waving about a plastic file and a paper bag beside him to make a point, "and I do have a reason, I'm picking up some stuff for Iwa-chan and myself."

Kunimi hums uninterestedly.

"So, who's that? A new friend?" Oikawa turns attention back to the new student, and Kunimi suddenly remembers he was there.

"Ah-- this is Oikawa, he's an alumnus," Kunimi quickly introduces them, "you absolutely do not have to remember him or his name, so don't worry."

And Aisaka nods obediently, to which Oikawa whines about rude underclassmen.

"Ah," Kunimi turns back to Oikawa, "great timing. You wouldn't happen to have spare uniforms or even a comb with you?"

-

It takes a painful thirty minutes (Kunimi is never asking for help from Oikawa ever again) but by the end of it, Aisaka's dressed in fresh clothing. (Who would've guessed that Oikawa was here to pick up Iwaizumi's old spare uniform which he left in the lockers?)

Oikawa, master of all unnecessary flamboyants, had whipped out a comb, hair gel, and whatever that treatment thing was-- and Aisaka was looking straight out of a model magazine, with his hair brushed back, top half tied up like a host.

Kunimi was honestly impressed. Oikawa was the right person for very weird things.

"How's this?" Oikawa gestures majestically like he's showing off a proud trophy, "my proudest work since Ki-chan."

"Who's Ki-chan?"

"My cousin."

"Does he look like shit too?"

"Excuse you, Kunimi-chan--"

"Right, right," Kunimi stands up quickly, setting a pair of hands on Aisaka's shoulder, "now that you look decent enough, let's get to showing you around."

And Aisaka juts out a nod, evidently feeling better after being cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothing. Whatever the heck happened to him in the first few hours of his day, Kunimi was just going to guess that a city boy had a hard time adapting to jungle roads.

He wasn't going to ask. Frankly, he doesn't give a shit. He just wants to get this kid settled in school like the responsible class president he isn't, and get on with his homework or something.

Kunimi turns back to Oikawa, "you can leave now."

"I'm not a doormat!" Oikawa retorts immediately.

-

All things considered, Aisaka takes the situation in stride.

Suddenly his dad is dead, suddenly he's in Miyagi, and suddenly he's in a new school. Kitagawa Daiichi is a quaint school right out of the way of the city. Apparently, most of the graduates attend Aoba Johsai, but Aisaka isn't too interested.

He's not particularly interested in school.

He's not so sure what to do, either He'd been confused about his future-- he'd finally found himself a way to go-- only for it to all come crashing down.

Life really loved to be a shithead and it really, really sucked.

For now, he's just breathing. Breathing, and watching the messages fly by his phone, never truly reading them.

He joins the school, attends classes, and goes home immediately.

Kunimi brings him to class-- and like a prompt loner of his caliber, they don't talk after that. If the principal wanted Kunimi to be Aisaka's friend or something, maybe he should've chosen someone else.

And Aisaka is perfectly fine with that. He'll finish junior high, then he'll work in his uncle's store or something. Then he'll worry about everything again.

Because that's life now.

Just worrying, and wondering when it'll all end.

(He finds himself before a cliff, and while he admires the scenery and the wide, wide world before him-- he wonders if it's okay to spread his wings and fly, to whatever is out there.)

(Will he find anything? Or will he get lost there too, only to end up flying around aimlessly just like before?)

(The first step is always the scariest, and he doesn't know if he should take it.)

-

"What in the world happened to you?!"

His clothes are disheveled, his bag is muddy, and there's a bunch of leaves tangled into his hair.

"Seriously, are you being bullied or something?" Ukai asks, exasperated, "like, be honest. This is the third time this week."

Aisaka shakes his head. "I'm," he looks away, "just... clumsy."

"Clumsy?" Ukai repeats, his jaw dropped, "I might not be all that keen on basketball, but hell, I know exactly what you were both famous and infamous for back in Tokyo, young man. Don't bullshit with me."

"Not a lie."

"Oh really?"

"No."

"Ya know that's a double negative, right kid?"

"No."

Ukai gives a frustrated sigh.

He'll believe in the no bullying reason for now, but this kid really needs a better sense of damn direction. How does he always manage to walk off some cliff every few days? This is why city boys are such a pain in the ass!

"No signs, too."

"Do you need a guide dog, you brat?"

-

Aisaka makes it to third year before he chances upon the volleyball club.

The basketball club of this school is nothing to scoff at either, but it's not quite at the level of being a real threat, especially compared to everything Aisaka had seen in Tokyo. He didn't entertain them with any club joining requests, and his reputation was enough for them to give up after a while of coercion.

But the volleyball club was unique.

The King of the Court, Kageyama Tobio, held an awkward, lonely throne in the gym.

Aisaka first hears about it when Kunimi and Kindaichi talk nastily about him in the classroom. The familiarity in those poisonous words were too nostalgic to ignore, so Aisaka takes a detour to the volleyball gym.

Kageyama Tobio isn't hard to find.

From the serves that shatter the ground, to the beautiful sets that only end up clumsily connecting, and then the yelling.

The frustration, the irritation-- it's so familiar.

"Calm your fucking sets down, Kageyama!" Kindaichi snaps, his voice hoarse, pointing accusingly at the ball as it rolls aimlessly to the side of the court.

Kageyama whirls back like a burned crow, his voice rising an octave higher than the boy's-- evidently, if you're louder, you're winning the argument, right? "It's your own fault for not getting there in time! The set was perfect!"

(Why aren't you up here with me?)

(Why do I have to wait for you to be on my level?)

(Why does everyone just fucking suck compared to me? What's the point of me playing if everyone's just too fucking weak to accomodate me?)

Those were all thoughts Aisaka resonated with.

He'd held Kuroko's and Ogiwara's hand that day on the court, and he promised-- promised so many times that he'd wait. He finds Aomine and runs with him-- but Aomine falls behind too, and he continues to run on alone.

Then Aisaka just got better, and better, and better.

He's standing on his pedestal of honour, knowing that no one could ever join him here unless he stops there-- and sits, until they reach him.

But why did he have to wait? It just wasn't fair.

He just wanted to play basketball. He just wanted to get better (better? You're already the best) and enjoy the game (by making it suck for everyone else? Go easy on us, man) with everyone (by yourself?) and...

"We could've gotten that one in if you'd just hit it right!"

"Well sorry your sets fucking suck!"

Aisaka turns away, the bitterness in his chest swelling up. He sets a hand on his wrist brace and kneads it with a sigh.

From the plays, to the attitude, to the stupendously undeniable talent-- Kageyama Tobio was the real deal.

(He was a Miracle.)

And Aisaka is here, moments before his inevitable crash and burn.

-

Someone in class is talking about the Generation of Miracles.

They have a basketball magazine on their desk, laid out as they talk. Kindaichi is there too, looking over the article with a sort of apprehensive interest.

"Isn't this the popular model guy?"

"Kise Ryouta, right?"

Aisaka had the intention to ignore them, but he couldn't hide his curiosity. He already knows how this goes-- the five of them, but not Haizaki or Nijimura, will become legendary, and then Kuroko will be their unknown phantom sixth.

(The chat has been silent after six months of absence. No one spoke, no one tried, and no hope could ever revive it again.)

(He knows nothing about what's going on in Tokyo, and he was pretending to never have been a part of them.)

"Teiko... that's the school you came from, right? Uh, Aisaka?"

He turns as he's addressed-- and in their show of friendliness, he takes up their offer to look through the magazine with them.

Aomine, Kise, Murasakibara, Midorima, and Akashi.

He didn't expect any less.

"Did you know them back in school?" the classmate he doesn't quite remember the name of asks him, and Aisaka nods. "What were they like?"

Aisaka bites his tongue.

And in a forced smile, "Hard to describe," he says, honestly. "They were a weird bunch, definitely."

(They were an eccentric, colourful bunch. They varied in personality, skills and interests-- just like every other human being in the world. Yet, when they went astray, no one guided them back to the right path.)

(They were an upsetting, selfish bunch of irredeemable assholes.)

Aisaka would know, because he's one of them.

-

"I'm glad Volleyball is a team sport."

They're watching Kitagawa Daiichi's final match in Inter High on the TV when Hiroto speaks up.

Ukai is surprised-- because he rarely speaks, much less actually interject an opinion into anything. He turns to find his nephew's eyes stuck on the grouchy, problematic setter of the team, and he frowns in confusion.

"What brought that on?" Ukai asks, not expecting a response.

Hiroto gives him an answer. "He's going to crack," he says, obvious on who he's referring to. "Any second now."

The declaration is made for the setter to be benched, and Ukai has nothing against the coach's decision for it. That setter could be seen yelling each time the camera landed on him. Not a very good attitude to have in sport.

"You know him in school?" he asks. "Same class or something?"

Hiroto shakes his head. "No, but he's a Miracle."

Miracle? Ukai has heard that term in passing-- the Generation of Miracles were a big deal, after all, especially when he mentioned it to his nephew and received a startling revelation on the fact that his nephew was one of them in all but name.

"Not so miraculous now, though," Ukai shrugs at the screen. "no offense."

Hiroto nods. "It's because volleyball is a team sport," he says, and Ukai has no idea where this conversation is going. "One man can't grow without everyone growing together. That's law, and that's what's great about it."

Law. To say that there are 'laws' in volleyball would be strange, especially for a boy that doesn't play the sport at all.

But Ukai sort of understands. Basketball is a team sport, but there are no rules about one player winning the game on his own. He could take the ball back and forth, over and over for minutes, and it would still be coherent with the rules.

Volleyball isn't like that. One player can only touch the ball once, and only for a second at most. It's impossible to play volleyball alone, and one lousy player can cost the entire game.

One man can't grow without everyone growing together-- that's why Kageyama Tobio is benched. He might be the best player on that field-- but his prideful talent was too great, and failed to translate into coherent team play.

"His growth will stop now," Hiroto says, "until everyone catches up. Then he can keep playing, and start to enjoy the game again."

The hollowness in those words and the emptiness in his smile-- those are things that still haunt Ukai to this day.

"Is that why you're not playing basketball anymore?"

He's asking it before the words go promptly through his brain. He regrets it immediately, knowing it's something Hiroto hates to talk about-- but he receives an answer anyways.

Hiroto only falters for a moment, but his words don't sound any less broken than before.

"It's a curse," he says. "And I ran away from it, that's all."

-

Aisaka is helping out at the neighbourhood ladies' volleyball team when he meets Hinata Shoyo.

The boy runs, skids, lifts and-- flies.

And then the ball comes down, crashing onto the floor with a deep, reverberating sound-- and suddenly, Aisaka is brought back to the hollow wooden courts, listening to the most beautiful sound in the world.

It's just a jump.

It's just a spike.

And yet-- and yet, so suddenly, he felt like taking up a basketball again. It's the wrong sport to miss in this very second, he knows-- but it's amazing.

Hinata cheers, asking for another toss from the lady-- and Aisaka watches him as he goes back around and does the same thing again.

"That's Sho-chan," one of the neighbourhood aunties informs. "His school doesn't have a team, so he often comes by here. He's a good kid."

(His school doesn't have a team.)

Oh, Aisaka immediately realizes the feeling in his chest.

It's the same rush of excitement, the same boil of passion he always feels when he wants to compete.

But there's no one in this world that can compete with him in a jumping battle.

(This kid can. This guy might be able to do it, with his powerful jumps, his high reach, and his undeniably exploding passion.)

(They blow through Aisaka like a wind, so startling, it leaves him breathless.)

He's a bud, so small and precious-- sitting in the sun and waiting for spring, so he can bloom into the most beautiful sunflower on the field.

Aisaka cradles it in his hands and tries not to cry.

(So this one is going to crash and burn, too?)

Hinata Shoyo is a Miracle, too.

-

-

-

Aisaka is somehow unsurprised to realize that Kageyama and Hinata both went to Karasuno High School.

He, himself, had opted against going to high school, and his uncle respected that.

A little into the next school year, he finds them in black and orange jerseys, and he finds himself remembering another anime just like it.

And then he realizes he's gone from one anime into the next, ironically enough. And he knows even less about this show than the other.

"Ah, Hiroto-san!" Hinata greets him as the team comes in for a late night snack. "I didn't know you worked here! Wait, are we allowed to have part-time jobs?"

He hands the team captain, Sawamura, their meat buns.

"This is my uncle's place," Aisaka tells him, "I'm just helping out."

He doesn't mention the fact that he's a dropout and thus this isn't against any school rules or anything.

"You know him, Hinata?" the bald senior, Tanaka, asks, looking a step away from picking a fight. It's a prickly trash-talker, something Aisaka's coaching experience appreciates. It's always nice to have a brute in the team so they can fight back when other teams size them up during tournaments.

Hinata beams, because he's a precious bean. "Yeah! He helps out a lot with the aunties' teams I used to play with."

"Heh," Kageyama eyes him weirdly. "So you play volleyball too? What school do you play for?"

Aisaka shakes his head, "I only play for fun."

He didn't expect Kageyama to remember him or anything but it's still jarring to note that Kageyama doesn't know at all. They've certainly passed each other in the hallways at least a dozen times.

"It's such a shame, too!' Hinata says, spreading his arms, "he's amazing! He jumps like FWAAh! And stuff. I've been trying to imitate his jumps, but something just different. It's like--"

"Hinata," Aisaka says, waving his right arm in a dismissive motion, "keep it down or Keishin will get mad."

And he immediately zips up. No one wants the angry, delinquent-looking owner to barge in yelling at them all to shut up, after all.

Aisaka doesn't miss the way Sawamura's and Kageyama's eyes linger meaningfully on his wrist brace. Aisaka leans over the counter, and this time, he manages to smile wholeheartedly.

"You're already doing fine, Hinata," he says, "learning from my jumps are fine-- but if you imitate me too much, you'll probably end up like me, too."

He doesn't elaborate further. Sugawara comes in from outside, wondering why they were taking so long-- and then the team excuse themselves to go home.

Keishin watches from behind the staff door, but he doesn't say a thing.

-

After Ukai Keishin becomes the coach of Karasuno, Aisaka often comes by just to watch or bring refreshments.

Aisaka watches Hinata dash and leap and slice through the air in a blur, strong and powerful-- his hands come down on the frighteningly perfect toss--

--and the ball bounces off ground and whirls back into the air again.

The rip of satisfying power is something he hasn't felt in a long time. It fills his chest with warmth, floods his brain with more more more, it makes his fingers itch and his legs wish so much to just leap again.

He wants to leap out of this body and indulge in that overwhelming sensation forever, if only it came without the consequences that tore him down.

"H- Hiroto-san!"

Suddenly Hinata is beside him on the bench, and Aisaka is a little too surprised to register him at first.

Then Hinata drones on about how it's difficult to focus on the ball and jump at the same time, and how he just can't get the balance right.

"Please show me how you jump again!"

He has an audience, he realizes. Asahi, the team ace, is also watching expectantly, and Kageyama is eyeing them, though the latter has a more skeptical gaze.

Well, he supposes one wouldn't hurt. Keishin is guiding the libero on something, so no objections there.

"The ball, huh?" He takes the ball from Hinata.

He just can't get used to it. A volleyball is less than half the weight of a basketball-- it's like he's handling air. Which meant he needed an even more flexible wrist to play well, and god knows why that's impossible for him.

He massages his right wrist, and takes the ball in one hand.

"Maybe once," he says, making his way toward an empty court. He hands the ball to the setter, "Kageyama, can you toss one for me?"

"Ah, sure," the boy says, a little reluctant.

Asahi throws the ball into the air, and Aisaka breathes. Kageyama has his hands posed for the toss, and Aisaka takes a step forward.

The toss goes up.

Aisaka feet brace against the ground, and he launches.

Hinata's breath holds. That's the toss Kageyama saves for their seniors-- a calm, normal toss, but Aisaka's arms are not quite swinging as far back as a spiker should.

That's why it was so surprising to see his hands reach the ball, and in those vague few seconds, the world was just Aisaka and the ball, and the minute connection between them-- like a whisper, something passes between them.

A smile grows on Aisaka's face.

Then the ball rips through the air like a seam of light, shattering right past the barriers of sound and zipping straight down like a sonic boom.

The loud crash of the volleyball against the floor brought complete silence to the gym. The ball ricochets against the wall, and goes long into the air.

Breath bated, all eyes turned to Aisaka.

The boy with indigo hair lands with a soft squeak of his shoes against the floor.

"Well, something like that," he says.

Hinata is silent. Then, "if I tried to receive that, my arms would come clean off," he hisses, backing away. "And you didn't explain anything! What was that? It just went WHOOSH and BAM! That was SO COOL!"

Asahi and Kageyama's jaws are wide open.

"See? His jumps are amazing, right?" Hinata says, like he's boasting.

"It doesn't matter how high you jump," is Aisaka's immediate response to that. He squeezes his fist, opening and closing it repeatedly with a frown. "If you don't have the skills to fight in the air, jumping higher is pointless."

Hinata stares at that, unsure what it entailed.

Asahi nods at that, "he has a point. A team with good defense, like Date Tech's, will shut you out either way."

"And people eventually get used to your speed too," Kageyama says. "You're just a one-trick pony at this point."

"Ehhh? Then what should I do?!"

"Hell if I know. Figure it out yourself."

Aisaka smiles, figuring those were the volleyball versions of 'doesn't matter how high you jump because the hoop is always at the same height'.

He leaves them to their conversation, and makes his way back into the bench. He kneads his sore wrist, though the action is more of a strange habit than an actual need at this point.

"You've never done that before."

Keishin is staring at him, a sternness in his eyes. It's the same stiffness that's always around when Keishin knows he might be treading closely into sensitive territory.

Aisaka doesn't like it-- he doesn't need to be carefully stepped around, he's not fragile (he is,) no he isn't.

Takeda is staring expectantly at him, like he's fascinated. Though it's hard to tell, Kiyoko is glancing over curiously as well, though her eyes are most usually fixed on the rest of practice.

"I don't have much energy in my arm swing. If you do that in basketball, you'll probably elbow someone in the face, after all," he explains. "So when I play volleyball normally, I don't spike with too much strength."

"You used to play basketball?" Takeda asks, and Aisaka nods.

"So I put all my strength into my wrist-- that's how you get all the strength for dunks and court shots in basketball," he explains. "If you use it in volleyball-- well, as you can see, you get a good spike."

Keishin's brows furrow. "But the strain on your wrist is no joke."

Aisaka snorts at that. "It is, isn't it?'

-

"Huh? Aisaka."

He had come to the stadium to watch the Prefectural Qualifiers when he bumped into Kunimi and the rest of Seijoh.

Aisaka's hair had only gotten longer since Kitagawa Daiichi, but he'd retained the style Oikawa had combed for him, simply because it was easier like that.

"What, Kunimi, a friend?"

Iwaizumi looks over his shoulder, spotting the boy. He looked around their age, but the lack of a school jersey meant he was a spectator, not a player.

"Oh, it's Aisaka," Kindaichi comes over, recognizing the familiar boy as well. "I didn't expect to see you here. It's been a while. Since Junior High?"

They had time to chat, since it was still early into the day and the matches didn't start until later.

Aisaka remembers them, so he smiles. "It's been a long time. You guys are playing for Aoba Johsai now, I see."

"Yeah,"

"So what are you doing here, anyways?"

"My uncle is Karasuno's coach," Aisaka puts it right out there. "I had nothing to do, so I came to watch the game."

"Your uncle is who?!"

"Ooh, it's the pretty guy from back then," Oikawa saunters in belatedly, noticing Aisaka immediately. He immediately inserts himself into the conversation, because of course he does.

"Oikawa-san," he addresses, "I haven't thanked you for your help that time. Thank you, you really saved me back there."

"Don't worry about it," Kunimi frowns, "he's just an opportunist. If he lets it get to his head, he's gonna be miserable to listen to."

"What? What happened?" Iwaizumi asks, "why does Oikawa know him? Am I missing something?"

"Nooothing," Oikawa sings, in a way that just means he's never gonna tell the ace about it. He turns to Aisaka, looking him up and down, "I see you still haven't gotten yourself a haircut since then. Does your school not have haircut regulations?"

"Ah," Aisaka realizes he hadn't made that clear. "I'm not attending school right now."

Silence.

Then "Huh?" is the general response. "Eh?" louder, and "wait, what?!"

"It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is, how can you stop going to school at Junior High?! What are you, a NEET?"

"...Oh, I think I am."

"You think?!"

-

Aisaka watches Karasuno lose against Seijoh, and waits at Sakanoshita for them to come home from long training camps. He doesn't go with them to Tokyo-- he's nothing more than an honorary manager, after all.

But he watches all of their matches and goes to the stadium each time he can, simply because Hinata wouldn't shut up otherwise.

That's why he can see them improving, and though there are trips every now and then, they're rising again and only getting better each day.

It's around the time they win against Shiratorizawa that Aisaka stands by the audience, and realizes something.

He realizes that Karasuno is alive, and Karasuno is not going to fall.

They have two miracles in their midst, but they're bound so tightly in the equation that they won't ever dislodge.

They're beautifully united, and though there are cracks on the gear known as Kageyama, it barely matters when it's put beside so many loving components that hold it together.

He bitterly realizes that Kageyama would be fine, and Hinata would be, too.

And he cries.

He cries, hiding his tears behind his hands.

Because this is it. This is what the Generation of Miracles should've been, could've been, would have been, if they had just endured, cried together, and held each other together.

And yet they didn't.

So Aisaka was here, broken.

(Because he ran away.)

-

It's the night after they come back from a weekend Tokyo Training Camp.

The coach comes home to find his nephew nowhere to be seen. Keishin had made it back after dinnertime, so when Hiroto wasn't around, an alarm blared in his head.

That kid couldn't have gotten lost on some cliff again, right? It's been a while since he'd done that, but Keishin really wouldn't put it past the boy.

He's exhausted from the trip, but instead of resting, he decides to take a run around town to find him. That kid had been even less vocal than usual last time he saw him, so Keishin could really only be worried now.

Sure, maybe he's just being paranoid, but it never hurt to be too careful.

There's a loud, deafening roar.

He whips his head around to the playground-- to the small streetball court-- just in time to see a feet leave the ground and a body leap.

Strong arms come down, wild and uncontrolled, slamming down against the hoop in a shattering, fissuring noise. Keishin's eyes never leave the view, but he doesn't know what's happening except that this is fierce, and this is something he should never go near in fear of his own life.

Hiroto's breathing is heavy enough that it's visible through the erratic rise and fall of his shoulders. He lands on his feet, looking down at something in his hand, and--

--and it's the basketball hoop, ripped clean off the board.

Keishin's breath holds.

That thing may be old and no one even knows who owns it anymore-- but Keishin has seen it around since his graduation days. He knows how many people have dunked and crashed into it-- and he knows exactly how sturdy it is.

So how... how did it just break like that?

Hiroto sighs, stepping forward casually to drop the broken hoop into the trash. There's a basketball near his feet, and he ignores it, turning around toward the entrance of the court.

Keishin's eyes follow him-- and the slump in that posture isn't a good sign. Hiroto didn't even notice him-- something's really wrong.

"Hiroto!"

And the boy jolts, but when he turns around, his eyes are disinterested, and his posture is comfortable. He's surprised by the man's presence-- but not the fact that he'd come to find him.

(Has this happened before?)

Keishin doesn't know what to do. Hiroto's obviously going through something intensely and mentally crushing, and even Keishin can see it. He's been on the lookout for it ever since he came to his house all those damn years ago.

But he sucks at this, and he fucking hates teenagers and their goddamn stupid mood swings. He's been one before, after all, he hates it with a passion.

"Again?" he asks. Keishin doesn't even know why he said that-- it's vague, it could mean anything, and he doesn't know what he's expecting as an answer.

He just wants to help.

Hiroto's answer comes out silently, and after a long moment of nothing.

"I'll try," the boy says. Keishin looks up, startled by the answer. Hiroto nods to himself, and he kneads his hand against his wrist brace, nervously. "I'll try not to run away anymore."

I'll try not to run away anymore.

I'm going to face it.

Keishin covers his mouth. He thinks he might cry.

-

He goes alone to Tokyo Metropolitan Stadium, where the Winter Cup is reaching its final stretch.

And he finds unexpected people there.

"Oh, it's Aisaka-kun."

"Huh? You're the one from Karasuno... right?"

Oikawa from Aoba Johsai, and... he's met the other guy in the stadium during Nationals, hasn't he? When there weren't any isolated seats left and he got acquainted with his very noisy seat neighbours. Uh,

"From Fukurodani?" He tries to remember the jersey.

"Yes," the teen says, "I'm Akaashi."

Aisaka does a double take at the name, but nods in greeting anyway. "It's nice to see you two again," he says. "Oikawa-san, Akaashi-san."

(But why are they in a basketball tournament? Oikawa aside, Akaashi should have practice for Nationals, right?)

The question must've been on his face, because Oikawa laughs, pointing at the court where Kaijou and Fukuda Sogo were having their match.

"My cousin is down there playing today," he explains, "he said he was gonna beat a bully, so it's a must-watch, or something. He looks like he's in trouble, though."

Aisaka stares at Oikawa for a full three seconds.

"Kise Ryouta?" he asks.

Oikawa snorts, "is it obvious?"

Kaijou versus Fukuda Sogo. Haizaki is crushing them for now, and Kise was moving weirdly. The score gap is almost at twenty, and things were looking grim.

Beat a bully... Haizaki, huh. He's only read them up again yesterday, but they've all really changed. Aomine's a lone fortress in Touou, Akashi's tyrannical, Midorima's a god, and Murasakibara is a symbol of destruction.

Kuroko's got himself a new light with the new rookie, a Miracle that's trying to tear the others down. And Shougo... well, he's only gotten worse. Nijimura's nowhere to be seen, and... and Ogiwara was just gone.

And really they only had themselves to blame.

"And Akaashi-san?" he asks.

The senior sighs. "My brother-in-law is the Captain of Kaijou," Akaashi says, which is, honestly a real damn surprise, how small is this world? "I can't make it for any other day, so I thought I'd come today. Meeting Oikawa here is just a coincidence."

"What about you?" Oikawa asks.

The answer is at his tongue, but a voice interrupts.

A loud voice, ringing through the stadium. "I BELIEVE IN YOU, KISE-KUN!"

And Aisaka's head whirls over faster than he has ever, hand laid on the banister and looking into the audience seats, trying his hardest- trying his hardest to find where the voice had come from.

But it's gone, as usual.

"Aisaka-kun?" Akaashi asks.

Aisaka's breath holds-- and they all watch Kise stand up. The ball leaves his hand in an infinitely high arc-- and it lands square and perfect into the hoop.

Kise had just copied Midorima's infamous full-court shot, and the crowd was going wild.

"Woah," Oikawa whispers, in awe.

"The arm strength of a basketball player is nothing to scoff at," Akaashi acknowledges. "From what I hear, there's one of those monsters on almost every team this year. They're called the Generation of Miracles or something."

"What's that? Sounds like something Tobio would be called."

Aisaka can't help but smile sadly. "Heh," he leans over the edge, looking closer at the incredible synergy of the team. It's shaky and overreliant on Kise, but there's no doubting how great it worked together.

"He's doing better than I thought he would be," he says, like a casual observation. There are curious eyes on him, but he doesn't entertain them.

(Looks like I'm the only one still stuck here, huh?)

Kise was a broken gear too, but he had found his place.

He's pretty sure, by splitting up how they did, they were slowly but surely rebuilding themselves into a working machine again, trying to salvage what broken parts of their passion were left.

(Everyone's working again, but here I am, still a wreck.)

(And from the looks of it, Shougo's driven himself into even worse of a disaster.)

He turns to Oikawa and Akaashi, remembering he hadn't answered their question yet. "I might be a NEET now, but I used to play basketball quite a bit," he explained, "some old friends were playing today, so I thought I'd come watch."

They watched the rest of the match in a pleasant atmosphere. They got drinks, cheered, and commented on some plays. Aisaka explained the basketball terminology they needed, and the setters compared them to corresponding volleyball moves.

It was nice.

They went off to congratulate the players, and Aisaka parted there. He avoided every other basketball team on the way out.

He said he would confront the past-- but now, he wasn't sure. They had better things to worry about, like the semi-finals, or injuries, or other things. They didn't have time for Aisaka's problematic complex to come right back into their lives now, did they?

They were doing alright. They're getting better.

And here was Aisaka, who's still a total wreck.

Aisaka had gone from being too far ahead to being stuck at the end alone, never to catch up again. That was ironic.

"This is stupid," he mutters to himself. He should just go home. Forget about what he said to Keishin, this is embarrassing, stupid, and irritating.

What did he even come here for?

(Did they even remember him?)

(Maybe they don't. Like Shougo-- he was just the pebble that's better off beaten down, taught a lesson, and then forgotten like the plot device he's supposed to be.)

-

Aisaka sees it from afar.

He sees Aomine and Haizaki confront each other. The talk is serious-- gazes were turned down, their postures were frontal, apprehensive, and jittery.

They were ready to pounce on each other if either gave any suspicious movements, and they didn't seem concerned about violence in the physical injury side of the story. They had the physique to dish out exactly what they were prepared to suffer.

Haizaki spits in his face, and Aomine socks him in the jaw.

That was the end of that.

Aisaka almost laughed there, when Haizaki crumbled and fell-- Aomine scurried away, trying to leave the crime scene with all the regret of a boy that, despite appearances, hasn't done a serious bad deed in his life.

Instead, he made his way over to the unconscious boy who, hopefully would regain consciousness in a few seconds if we didn't want brain damage, and sat down beside him.

"Hey, Shougo," he says, "so, what happened to your fluffy gray hair? Had your edgy teenage phase while I was gone?"

Blearily, the boy opens his eyes.

"...R'oto?"

Aisaka chuckles, setting a hand on Haizaki's head. "Well, you're looking as unpleasant as ever. I think you got a concussion, so you're going to the hospital, by the way."

"S'uddup, f'ckin Bus'ket Momma...

"Unfortunately, even basketball mama is now just a NEET living in the countryside," he says without missing a beat. "I even lost all my build because I've been slacking for three years. You could literally crush me like a twig."

"D'fuck y'doin here."

Aisaka blinks down at him-- and Haizaki's eyes are wide open. The light seemed to hurt his eyes, but his gaze was fixed on Aisaka's indigo eyes.

He smiles.

"Finally with me, you punk?" Aisaka asks, knowing that the boy was finally coherent enough to actually question his presence. "You have a concussion, so get up."

Haizaki reaches up, and with all the strength that really shouldn't be on a concussed idiot, he grabs Aisaka by the collar and drags him down to pull himself up. Aisaka barely stables himself by planting his hand on the ground, but Haizaki isn't letting go, making their position very awkward.

"Where the--" he hisses as pain shoots up his head, but he recovers enough to choke out a, "bloody hell, fuck."

Aisaka can't help but laugh.

"Wanna go to the arcade, Shougo?" he suggests.

He doesn't want to talk about the last three years, and he's pretty damn sure Shougo doesn't want to either.

That's why he came to talk to Shougo, out of everyone else in the stadium. They deal with their problems by actively avoiding them, releasing their frustrations by yelling it out into the game center.

That's how it's always been for them, and now-- now, it's the only thing they want to do together. There's no one else that would do this with them.

"After we get your concussion treated, of course," Aisaka clarifies very necessarily, knowing it was going to be the hardest part of the process.

Haizaki scoffs.

"Arcade," he decides. "Let's go."

-

They're far from actually being whole again.

Everyone's on their paths, everyone's forming a new bond with their own friends. They're growing at their own pace, and finding their passions again. It's slow, but it's happening, and it's only healing more as the days go on.

Haizaki and Aisaka are just having a little bit of a tougher time than the others-- but they'll get there eventually.

Baby steps.