Shadows and Lights

Chapter 30

I don't know how to get out of the Zone. For the others, there has always been a set time limit, something like 10 or 15 minutes, maybe even 20, but such a thing does not exist for me. I remain in the Zone until I can be extracted from it. The longest time I've ever been in the Zone was a maximum of two hours, with Seijuurou present and worrying. I hope he's here, because this is promising to be my longest Zone submersion yet. I don't want things to remain this way, but it seems there's nothing I can do.

I know what the others look like in the Zone, although I've only ever seen Ryouta and Daiki enter into it. Their faces used to scare me. Nothing could be seen of their personalities other than determination and a ridiculous sense of calm. I don't know if I mimic any of those, but I hope I don't have the overly intense, nearly blank look in my eyes that they have. Sometimes their eyes hid flames, other times they were as blank as a could be. I wonder, faintly, if I have the same eyes that they always have.

I don't know how I've been snapped out of the Zone in the past. It's much worse when I struggle with the Zone, like it's trying to overcompensate or it's getting revenge or making up for lost time. When I enter it willingly, I'm usually able to glide out of it, but only after we're done playing. All I can focus on, however, are thoughts of what my next play is going to be.

My body is getting heavy and tired. At this rate, the Zone will wear me out before I can be dragged out of it. I don't think I'll be coming back for a while. My ability to recognize that we're no longer playing is flickering in and out of existence.

My feet move without my consent. Am I being led away? Probably. I don't ever seem to be able to function off the court in this state. What should my next play be? How can I dodge screens more efficiently? Everything and nothing simmers in the back burners of my mind. I want to know where the ball is. The ball? Why am I looking for it? The damn thing is right in front of me. Why does Daiki have it? Why is he opposing me? Does it matter? No. It doesn't. I will play until I break. I will be victorious. They'd all want nothing less of me.

Why is Daiki walking closer? Spinning the ball on his finger so casually, it seems he's taunting me. Doesn't he know I have a temper? What's this? He's just handing me the ball, pointing at a hoop I've never seen in my life before, shrugging and standing in front of me. "Come and get me." He says. I think that's what he's saying. Does it matter anymore? No. Time to play until I break.

I'm ready to go, ready to pounce, ready to run, when it seems I've reached a critical limit. My face contorts, my knees buckle, and my chest begins to heave. I can't move. I can't make myself stop moving, I can't make myself continue moving. What is at fault? I haven't broken yet, so why am I frozen like this? "Come back, Alex." Daiki's voice seems disembodied, floating about within my skull. "Time to come back." What if I don't want to? I want to play. I want to break. I want to win.

Why are tears dripping down my face? Why is Daiki shielding me from view? Why am I grabbing onto his jersey like some lost child? A faint noise reaches my ears, and I can barely recognize the sound of sobbing. I'm sure it's from me. "C'mon, Alex. A little further and you'll be out." I can feel a breeze now, the feel of rough concrete beneath my legs. My head rests against a chest, and a jersey is held in my white-knuckled grip. "There ya go. Took you long enough."

I'm not a pretty crier. When stuff like this happens, everything comes out. I guess it's like I'm unleashing everything on an emotional level to compensate for my physical exhaustion. Everything I've felt since my last time stuck in the Zone surges forward, making me something of a wreck. I think my heart is breaking. "I hate it." I repeat the phrase so many times that it could possibly become my new catch-phrase. Luckily, we're all saved from that atrocity.

"I know." Daiki murmurs, silencing me. "You hate it. I know. You always do." Is it bad that I almost miss the Zone? There's no such thing as emotion there. There's nothing but clear, rational thought, and the drive, passion, ability to conquer and consume. But here, here I am stuck, caught in between a sense of security and screaming fragility. "You'll feel better. You always do."