The night they came back from day one of nationals, Mamoru found himself at the park. It was dimly lit and there was no one there, much to his relief.
Claire was a little reluctant to let him go by himself at night, but something convinced her to let him go. Perhaps it was the listless look in his eyes she was so scared of.
She felt like Mamoru was slipping through her fingers and she didn't know how to help him.
He sat down under a tree and slipped his hand into his jacket pocket. The cool metal of his ipod reassured him, a little object of comfort. Mamoru placed his earbuds in his ear and clicked play.
Anything.
He wanted anything to play.
Just something to drown out his thoughts, to force away the spiraling bleak thoughts that threatened to choke him.
Thought I found a way
Thought I found a way, out (found)
But you never go away (never go away)
So I guess I gotta stay now
He was grateful for Claire for downloading English songs. It gave him a sense of his native country even though didn't have the best memory of it.
Japan was a beautiful country, but sometimes, he wished he was back in America, attending an American school where the people spoke mostly English.
He hummed along with the song, feeling whimsical. It was a soothing sound, he couldn't help it. Mamoru turned the volume just a little louder.
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near
Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear
If he and Maiko had stayed in America, would they have turned out different? Would he prefer being back in America, where he was torn apart by the acidic words of his own parents? Would he prefer that over an alien country that treated him better than his first 11 years of life?
Isn't it lovely, all alone?
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
Tear me to pieces, skin to bone
Hello, welcome home
Just for fun, just to test his limits, Mamoru sang the next passage quietly, feeling a little kinship with the words.
Walkin' out of town
Lookin' for a better place (lookin' for a better place)
Something's on my mind (mind)
Always in my head space
He liked the way he could shape the solemn words with his own mouth. There was a steady vibration that he could get lost in so he closed his eyes for a better visual.
But I know someday I'll make it out of here
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near
Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear
Would he make it out of here, this dark corner? There was a growing feeling of trepidation in his chest. It settled in his chest like a heavy stone, impossible to ignore and always on his mind.
It wasn't unfamiliar, the feeling of apprehension. Mamoru felt the same in America with his parents.
But the difference between here and there was he already knew where the terrible feeling was coming from. Over here, he wasn't sure if it was coming from Kuroko or Aomine or anywhere else. There were too many variables.
Isn't it lovely, all alone?
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
Tear me to pieces, skin and bone
Hello, welcome home
"Hey!"
Mamoru violently scooted away from the loud shriek, ripping the earbuds from his ears accidently. "C-Can I help you?" He cursed himself for stuttering.
Blond. The first thing he thought was Kise, but the shade of hair was wrong. The second thing he registered was that this individual was quite short and he was too close to his face.
"You!" He whispered excitedly. "You were singing Lovely by Billie Eilish in perfect English!"
More out of panic, he shoved the individual away from his face and stood up, brushing grass stalks from his pants. "English is my native language," Mamoru explained.
"Oh, I did detect an accent in your Japanese, but I kind of thought you were from a different area in Japan," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he stood up.
"You have an accent too," Mamoru realized. "Are you-"
"I'm born in Japan, but I grew up with English because my mom's from America," he explained, bouncing in his spot.
"Hey, you have a really nice voice. Wanna join a singing group??"
Mamoru stepped back when he thrust himself in his face. Hands up, he gingerly pushed him away by his forehead. "I'm sorry, but I don't even know your name..."
"Oh, I'm Sakamoto Yori, but call me Yori because I'm never used to people calling me by my last name." He was so close, he could see Yori's blue eyes were blown wide like he was hyped up on caffeine.
"I don't sing," he muttered. Mamoru was taken aback by the set frown Yori had switched to.
"That's bullshit."
He almost dropped his mouth at the foul language he spat out. Yori seemed to be able to change personalities like the flip of a switch. "Pardon?"
"You do sing," Yori insisted. "I literally just listened to you sing Lovely. Come on, did you take a class or something? Don't be shy, tell me."
Mamoru shook his head, setting his earbuds and iPod safely in his pocket. "It was just a noise."
Or at least that's what he thought. In truth, he couldn't hear himself over the level of volume he'd set the music at.
"Are you kidding me?" Yori recoiled in disbelief, looking surprised. "You've never taken a class? You have such a beautiful voice, I'm offended."
"Thank you?" Mamoru was thoroughly confused. Was it a compliment or was he genuinely disgusted?
"We've been looking for people with your kind of voice though," he added, looking thoughtful.
We? Was he one of those gang members in disguise looking for a certain person? Was he going to be kidnapped?
"Oh, don't worry, I'm a Teiko student too," Yori added matter-of-factly. "I always see you with your Generation of Miracle buddies." Mamoru's face soured. "I'm always with the music club."
"How would you feel being a part of an online singing group?" He asked exuberantly. "Please! You have an amazing voice! And you're fluent in English!"
A spark of interest lit his brain. Maybe this could be an escape. After all, he did like music. Still, he'd have to be careful. "Do you have contact information?" He asked warily.
"Yeah yeah!" He was expecting a card of some sort, but he watched Yori scribble something down on paper he'd magically conjured up from the depths of his jacket. "Here! Just friend me and I'll introduce you to the group."
He took the paper and looked over the contents. In messy writing, English he noted, it read:
Discord
SexyMan #2869
(xxx) xxx - xxxx
"'SexyMan'?" Mamoru said the word in English, baffled. Then he looked at the boy in front of him. In no way did he register Yori as "sexy". He was more on the cute side if anything.
Like a puppy.
"Hey, don't judge the name," Yori shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe I'll grow into my name."
Mamoru tucked the paper into his breast pocket and shifted in his spot. "I guess I'll contact you later then. Have a goodnight...Yori."
He jogged away, leaving an ecstatic blond behind at the park. Mamoru came back to the house, unlocking the door quietly. He'd come back later than he wanted to so Maiko was most likely sleeping now.
"Are you alright now?" Claire asked, almost scaring him. He set his shoes in the rack and grabbed the slippers. "Sorry."
"I feel a little better," he said quietly. He didn't elaborate and Claire didn't push him, which he appreciated. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"
Claire blinked. "Oh, of course. Come on, I've got some tea left over."
They stepped over to the kitchen where there were two cups of lukewarm tea. Had Claire been waiting for him? Mamoru thought to himself, feeling a little guilty he'd stayed so late. Claire had to get up in the morning and she was here waiting for him to come back.
"What's up?" They sat down at the rectangular table, hands clasped around the cup.
"I met someone at the park," Mamoru started. He knew that wasn't what Claire was hoping he'd talk about, but he didn't feel like explaining the situation at school. He wasn't even sure if he could explain it.
"Did they try anything suspicious?" Claire perked up, face set in a worried frown. "Are you hurt?"
"No, no," Mamoru reassured hurriedly. "He's a Teiko student in my year. Yori Sakamoto."
"Yori Sakamoto," she hummed thoughtfully, a hand on her chin. "That last name sounds familiar..." She shook her silver head. "Anyways, what did the kid want?"
Mamoru shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "He...wants me to join his singing group."
Claire was silent for a moment, her face twisted with confusion. "He just went up and asked you?"
"Not exactly." Mamoru dipped his head down, a little embarrassed. "He heard me singing."
"You sing?"
"I just wanted to try it," Mamoru mumbled, feeling the back of his neck burn. "I liked the song."
Claire waved her hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean that as a bad thing. I was just a little surprised." She leaned forward, smiling reassuringly. "Did he give you some way to contact him?"
Mamoru silently took out the scrap paper and slid it on the table. Claire stifled a laugh behind a delicate hand at the username. She set the paper down and got up. "Wait here for a moment," she mentioned before going around the corner.
The boy patiently waited in his seat, fiddling with his jacket zipper. When Claire came back, she was holding a thin rectangular device.
"I was planning on giving these two you and Maiko later since you guys needed it for school, but I really want you to give this opportunity a try," Claire explained, setting the laptop in front of him.
He gazed at the laptop with wide eyes as he twisted in his chair to look at his aunt. "That's too m-"
"Don't say it's too much," Claire interrupted him, smiling. "You and Maiko are more mature than other kids your age and you definitely need this. I think you can handle this on your own."
He thanked her profusely, feeling the spark from earlier grow a little bigger. "Thank you...Claire."
Her face visibly lit up like a christmas tree. "Hey, don't sweat it, kiddo. Also, don't feel pressured to join the group. If it's too much for you or you don't want to, don't worry about it, okay?"
Mamoru nodded, touching the sleek cover. "I think I'll give it some thought for a little bit," he admitted. "I don't know how to feel about this."
Claire was almost shaking in her spot with excitement. Mamoru called her Claire and he was opening up a little more!
"Hey, get some sleep for now," she ushered. "We'll set up your devices tomorrow."
The topic that was bugging her and Mamoru went unaddressed. Neither individuals were sure how to approach the subject and Mamoru didn't know how to explain it.
But they'd take it one step at a time.
──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────
"You don't have to do anything to Aomine." Shirogane briefed the Generation of Miracles, excluding Aomine. Kise squawked out in surprise. "Just behave like you always have."
"Trying to cheer him up or comfort him will do the opposite. If it comes down to it, I will talk to him," Shirogane said solemnly.
That was what was told to them. Currently watching Aomine play in the final match of nationals made Mamoru happy to see they got there, though it was to be expected.
But the more he watched Aomine play, the more the tightness in his chest seemed to wrench. Aomine looked so pained, so stressed.
Why?
Mamoru couldn't understand. His leg bounced on the gym floor, drawing Kuroko's eyes. He took no notice of Kuroko, keeping an eye on Aomine. How could he do nothing while Aomine suffered in silence?
A sudden chill overtook him and he shivered. He'd been feeling the same chill for the last two days and he drew his jacket back on, an unusual action for the boy who loved the cold.
There was a brief intermission after the second quarter so the players could get some rest and the gym floor could be mopped free of sweat.
Shirogane called Aomine over before Mamoru could talk to him. He watched out of the corner of his eye. He liked Shirogane and had a strong sense that the elder was a good man. But it never hurt to keep an eye on him. Whatever he was talking to him about, snapped Aomine out of his misery.
He was still different than before, but somehow, he seemed a little more determined.
In the last quarter, Kuroko was put in to substitute Kise and Mamoru took Midorima's spot. National level playing was intense, too intense to explain.
It was the kind of high that made your heart race so fast, you fear it would burst from your chest. Whether you were winning or losing, in the moment, all you can think is that you're in the game. You're a team, you're seen as a weapon.
Mamoru pushed away every worry and focused on the game. Every pass was carefully calculated; every shot was made with careful hands. The feeling of evading the sweaty bodies with such ease made his body tremble with excitement.
This was something he was good at.
Aomine made the final point of the quarter, earning a thunderous cheer from the Teiko audience. Mamoru panted in his spot, choosing to stay there for the moment.
"Now I can eat my snacks, right?" Murasakibara looked down at Mamoru. "Hey, you want some?"
Mamoru craned his neck up—he was still waiting for his growth spurt—and looked at Murasakibara with a tiny look of amusement. "Sure."
"Eh? Really?"
Akashi looked up and closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the moment. When he looked straight, he gave Mamoru a smile. "Well done," he said, addressing Murasakibara, Midorima, and Mamoru.
"Kuroko-cchi's passes!" Kise excitedly fanboyed over the boy's actions, throwing his hands so wildly, Mamoru thought he'd hit someone.
Of course, he'd be happy to hit the blond back.
Aomine surprised them by slinging an arm around Kuroko and Mamoru. Mamoru's first instinct was to shove his arm off because they were both slick with sweat and it was gross.
But...it was a special occasion, so he let it slide.
A smile curved on his pale face. Victory truly felt amazing.