𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 ♕ ʜᴀɴᴀᴍɪʏᴀ ♚

16

The locker rooms were filled with merry voices; Kirasaki Daichi's first win in a long time made the whole team excited for the next game. They were pretty sure of their victory because, with Miho's help, how would it be possible to lose? She was their weapon, which finally proved itself to be useful for something different than making them fulfil Hanamiya's orders. Her plan to win was glorious, and no one could deny it.

After the water under the showers began to cool down, the players gradually left to get changed, Hanamiya the only person remaining. The boy was still as cool water washed over his body, plastering his long bangs over his eyes.

Hanamiya breathed loudly as his hand pulled back wet hair from his forehead, his eyes dully locked on the tiles.

... remember, there's someone, who can do worse than I...

Hanamiya's eyes shut.

You fuck with me, you fuck with us all.

A low chuckle filled the boy's ears; he clenched his fists and banged his knuckles against the wall. The pain didn't ease the obsessive thoughts running in his mind, making his head thump with a dull ache; he rested his forehead against the cold tiles.

You will see tonight— you and that bitch.

"Fuck—!" Hanamiya mumbled. "Fuck..."

He knew it wasn't a child's play anymore once he entered the court. Even the game didn't feel fun to him seriously starting to wear on his nerves as they were nearing the end. It'd been ages since he actually played to win and it kind of slipped his mind winning wasn't that easy. However, once he decided upon that, it was all or nothing. Hanamiya knew that it might come to this, he would have to eventually give up something he valued the most, but what he wasn't expecting, that something to be his very own Miho.

It was surprisingly effortless to say all those nasty things to her. There was no denying he had to do this, nevertheless, it pained him she believed his words so easily. Her stone-dead face as she bid him farewell was still crystal clear before his eyes.

Have a nice life, Hanamiya.

In order to get themselves out of this mess, all he could do now was to move forward and end those goddamn bastards once and for all.

Aomine said the pest wanted to see him. Well, so be it. Miho was out of the picture, so he'd go and watch that bastard cry as he stepped over his damn pride.

That lone thought made the corners of Hanamiya's mouth go up. He turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist. He ruffled his hair to get rid of some excess water and left to get changed.

No one paid attention to him, as everyone was roaring with laughter. Deep in his thoughts, the captain went to dig through his locker in search of clothes.

"— I don't know what makes people want to tell me about their problems—" Hara chirped, his voice cracking with every higher note he tried to pull off; the fact that he still was only wearing his shirt and a pair of boxers made his jesting even funnier. "Is it because I smile too much?" He pursed his lips in a sour manner as he looked at his teammates, who by now were rolling on the floor and laughing their asses off.

"That resting-bitch face—" Yamazaki tapped his knees like a retarded monkey when Hara dramatically dropped on the bench before the short-haired boy and crossed his legs.

Seto rolled his eyes and pushed a blazer over his head, quite distasted he had to associate with their sort.

"I am a bitch, Hiroshi. What's your excuse?" Hara snarled, making Yamazaki's face drop.