Kuroko No Basket ONE-SHOTS

Akashi Seijuuro (1) Too Late

In the dim, sterile glow of the bathroom mirror, your reflection looked like a stranger's.

​Crimson ran down your chin as you coughed heavily, racking your entire frame. Drip. Drop. Thick droplets splashed into the white porcelain basin. Tears stung your eyes, blurting your vision as a hollow, bittersweet smile pulled at your lips. Deep down, you had known this moment was coming.

​Your knees gave out. You lunged forward, gripping the edges of the sink to keep yourself from collapsing onto the tile floor.

​Should I tell him?

​"I'm sorry," Midorima said, his tone tight, his stoic posture cracking under the weight of the diagnosis. "It's a rare condition. The medical facilities here in Japan simply don't have the technology to treat you effectively. If you stay, your condition will only deteriorate... rapidly."

​The silence in the clinic felt suffocating.

​"You need to go to America," Midorima urged, his emerald eyes burning with an earnestness you rarely saw from him. "Consult with the specialists there. Please. As your doctor—and as your friend—I want what's best for you."

​Tears spilled over your lashes, tracking down your cold cheeks. "I haven't even told him..." your voice cracked, desperate and trembling. "And now you're telling me I'm going to die? Shin, please tell me this is a joke. Tell me you're kidding!"

​Midorima winced. It was his duty to heal, yet seeing you crumble before him left him entirely powerless. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a firm, grounding embrace, letting you weep into his shoulder. It was the only comfort he could offer.

​"How long?" you whispered against his coat, forcing the words out. "How long would I have to be in America?"

​Midorima hesitated. "...Three to five years."

​You pulled back slightly, staring at the floor. You weren't foolish enough to lay down and surrender to a disease like a tragic cliché. You wanted a future. You wanted to spend your life with Seijuro.

​And survival came with a price.

​Three to five years... that isn't forever, right?

​But how can I ask him to wait without knowing if I'll even survive? Do I just leave him anchored to a ghost?

​No.

​The decision formed, sharp and agonizing. You had to let him go.

​If he truly loved me... would he still be there when it's over?

​"A-Akashi-kun."

​The formal title tasted like ash on your tongue, completely foreign compared to the warm nickname you usually used.

​"Let's break up." You grit your teeth, fighting with every fiber of your being to keep your posture straight, blinking back the hot tears threatening to spill. You couldn't break down. Not now.

​His striking heterochromatic eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "W-what are you talking about?" He reached out, his hands gripping your shoulders, shaking you gently as if trying to wake you from a bad dream. "Did I do something wrong? Tell me! What happened?"

​"Didn't you hear me?" You forced coldness into your voice, though the trembling edge betrayed you. "I said we're done. Is it really that hard to understand?"

​"What are you saying?!" His voice cracked—a sound you had never heard from the absolute, unshakeable captain. "Just yesterday we were happy! You said you loved me! You can't just throw us away, (Name)! I love you!"

​Your heart shattered. Akashi Seijuro—proud, invincible—was pleading, tears overflowing as his hands slipped from your shoulders.

​Don't do this, Sei. Please... don't make this any harder.

​"I'm sorry, Sei," you whispered, turning on your heel and running before the sob tearing through your throat could betray the lie.

​This is how it has to be.

​The bustling hum of the airport terminal felt miles away from the heavy silence in your chest. Every step toward the gate felt like walking through wet cement.

​Out of seven billion people... why me?

​"Flight E024 to the United States, now boarding at Gate 12."

​You took a deep, shuddering breath and handed your pass to the attendant. Was I still hoping he'd come? He doesn't even know I'm leaving.

​"(NAME)!"

​The voice cut through the airport chatter like lightning. You froze, turning around slowly.

​Far across the terminal, held back by security, was Seijuro. His hair was disheveled, his eyes wild with a pain you had caused.

​"DON'T LEAVE! PLEASE!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the hall, drawing glances from every traveler. "I'LL WAIT FOR YOU! JUST TELL ME YOU STILL LOVE ME! PLEASE, I BEG YOU!"

​Fresh tears blurred your vision. I love you. I love you so much, Seijuro.

​But what if the treatment fails? What if I never come back? I can't leave you waiting for a corpse.

​You squeezed your eyes shut, covered your mouth to muffle a broken sob, and forced your feet to move toward the jetway, turning your back on the only man you would ever love.

​Four years later, the Tokyo air smelled just as you remembered.

​The treatment had been a miracle. You were cured. Healthy. Whole.

​Yet, as you walked through the city, an overwhelming anxiety gripped your chest. Did he wait? You hated yourself for holding onto that fragile, selfish hope, but the heart doesn't listen to reason.

​Your feet absentmindedly carried you to the park—the quiet green space where you and Seijuro used to spend your quiet afternoons.

​A bittersweet smile touched your lips as you stepped onto the paved pathway, only for the breath to be stolen from your lungs.

​There he was, sitting on a bench beneath the cherry blossoms.

​He was laughing. A genuine, bright sound that echoed softly in the open air. But he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the woman sitting beside him, her hand tucked comfortably into his.

​He was happy. Truly happy.

​You stepped back into the shadow of the trees, a cold tear slipping down your cheek.

​Was it the right choice? Should I have just told him the truth that day?

​You swallowed the bitter lump in your throat, watching him smile at her the way he used to smile at you.

​He's happy. That's all I ever wanted for him. The only difference is... it's not with me.

​I was too late.