this is happiness, i'm fearless and i'm free,

with the open road and the world beneath my feet

thirty one

"You're late!"

To assuage her anger, he grasps her cheek between his fingers and pinches it. "How many times did I have to wait for you? Are you going to keep complaining? You've only waited five extra minutes." A chill runs down her spine as he smiles at her—that maniacal, insincere smile.

After successfully batting his hand away, Tomoe frowns at him. "This is supposed to be a date," she says matter-of-factly.

"And? Your plans for the day?"

The numbing cold that has overcome her fingers—they feel like clunky old machinery in desperate need of being oiled. But she still manages to bend them, inserting them into her pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. She smooths it out against her thigh and holds it out for him.

He snatches it from her, his eyes greedily reading over the whole list. "You want to do all of this?" he asks incredulously. "Today?"

"You said you'd prove to me you were serious. You can do this much, right?" She challenges, arms firmly crossed over her chest.

Hanamiya studies her for a moment before shoving the paper back into her face. "You like things like purikura? That doesn't sound like you."

"W-why not?!" she demands indignantly. Even though she can concede that he has a point, it frustrates her. "Why can't I like something like that? Is it wrong to want to do it? Can I not have a picture of us?!" Like word vomit, sentence after sentence comes out until she finally blurts out the core of the reason for listing purikura. And as soon as she realizes what she has said, she tries to backtrack. "Uh, that is..."

A smirk stretches across Hanamiya's face, and Tomoe realizes that it's too late. "You want a picture of us, hmm?" His brows raise questioningly.

"That's not weird," she protests. "It's normal since I... like you." Although it's incredibly embarrassing to say. And she's starting to think this whole idea was stupid to begin with. Even Tomoe isn't entirely sure why she feels the way she does for him. All he does is relentlessly bully her, and he's not the least bit flexible. He's terrible boyfriend material.

While she's busy sulking, Hanamiya reaches over and takes her hand. Almost immediately, Tomoe peers up at him inquisitively. "You wanted a picture, right? Then we can do that first. Will you be satisfied with that?"

Her brows furrow in suspicion. He's being too nice. And it's not the usual mocking kindness that she has come to expect. It actually seems genuine, even coming from him. "N-no, I won't be satisfied with just that. I want to go to the movies, too."

"Movies? You're not going to make me sit through some corny romantic comedy?" It's almost comical how his expression contorts into one of disgust, as though he wants to immediately shake her off and run if she confirms his fear.

She studies him. Is he trying to use reverse psychology on her? Does he genuinely not want to go? It's difficult to gauge the truth when it comes to Hanamiya. "I... I like those kind of movies. But if you really don't—ouch!" He's pinching her cheek again.

"You're acting demanding by saying that I have to go on a date with you, that I have to do purikura with you. But then it comes to something like what kind of movie and you back down like a spineless jellyfish? You haven't changed."

Her cheeks flush with the accusation. It's not something she can contest. He's dead on the mark. It's true—she's acting more confident now than she was before. But she hasn't really changed as a person, has she? It makes her remember all those times that Hanamiya said that he hated her, or hated parts about her. Suddenly she feels incredibly dejected. If she hasn't changed, then why has he?

"Kurosawa, what's with that kicked puppy look?" He frowns.

"You're right. I'm the same as I was before. So what made you change your mind?"

"Change my mind about what?"

Her hand goes slack in his grasp. "You... rejected me. I was always a nuisance to you for all these years. You made that perfectly clear. But now all of a sudden you've changed your mind about all of that. You... like me, right? You have to like me. Or you're playing with me." The doubts well up in her chest, and it makes it difficult to breathe. The more she thinks about it, the more positive she becomes that he must be insincere. And that hurts.

"I told you I was running from you."

"Yes, you said that—but... what does that mean? I don't..."

It's hard to fight the tears of frustration, and she's only able to swallow them back by pursing her lips and tilting her head back. Staring up at the smear of clouds covering the sky, she manages to settle her emotions after several long moments. And when she turns her gaze back to Hanamiya, she feels his hands on either side of her face as he leans toward her.

"Kissing me isn't going to silence me again." She turns her head away, avoiding his lips at the last moment. "I want to hear an answer."

"You're annoying, you're persistent, you're a sickening goody two-shoes," he starts to rattle off a whole list of things that sound incredibly akin to insults. But just as she is about to contest them and shake him off, his lips start to ease up into something of a smile. "You stuck to me like a flea. I couldn't shake you off before, and I can't now. I won't. I don't want to."

"You don't want to?" she echoes in disbelief.

"I refuse," he amends with a crease of the forehead. It almost seems as though he's glaring at her, but there's a smirk on his face again as he tugs at her cheeks. "I'm the only one who can do this to you."

As much as it should annoy her that he's saying it all in a roundabout way, she feels some reassurance that he's clarifying things. Certainly, it would be nice—she thinks—if he would come right out and say it. But she suspects that it's not in Hanamiya's nature to be quite so straightforward. But even if he can't be, she has the courage to.

"M... Makoto," she tests out his first name, absent of an honorific. It's a little embarrassing, but she mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear, "I... love you."

There's a difference this time—before it was I like you. Now she's being more honest, more vulnerable. And she feels the anxiety well in her chest as she tentatively lifts her gaze to peer up at him. It's with great shock that she realizes there's actually a red hue coloring his cheeks.

"Y-you're... blushing?"

The second she actually verbalizes the thought, his expression contorts and the fingers that had been gingerly gripping at her cheeks are now pressing against her forehead, causing her to stumble back. His face disappears from sight and her vision is obscured by those lengthy digits. Struggling, she manages to wrest away from him.

Appearing mildly livid, she glares at him. "W-what was that?"

"You're more dangerous than I gave you credit for." He strokes his chin thoughtfully, as if this is some kind of war tactic and he has been one-upped by the enemy.

"I was just telling you how I—"

"Quit talking," he interrupts dismissively, suddenly seizing her nose between his fingers so her voice comes out nasally. He looks at her meaningfully. "I'm only going to say this once, since you keep begging. So listen closely."

Although the sidewalk where they are standing is largely unoccupied, with only the occasional passer-by—all of whom have ignored them—Hanamiya leans closer to her. Her heartbeat quickens as she waits intently. Her lashes flutter, trembling.

"I... love..."

He's actually going to say it...!

"You...r cheeks," he finishes. Perhaps feeling proud and triumphant, he smirks at her, clocking her reaction.

Contrary to his expectation that he'd rile her up, she's blushing furiously.

Hanamiya frowns and squeezes her nose. "Hey, why aren't you—"

"Y-you actually said it," she murmurs.

"I said 'your cheeks,'" he tells her impatiently.

"I heard you properly." Unfazed by the fact that her voice sounds strange because of her closed nasal passage, Tomoe smiles up at him. "And now that we got through that, before we continue onto our date, there's one more thing I wanted to tell you."

—

"Ah... a bug. I almost stepped on it." There's a snapping noise—the bubble he was blowing pops abruptly, the sticky substance flinging itself across his face. The culprit of the offense stands just before him, a few heads shorter, with her finger extended in the air just an inch away from his face.

"You should break the habit of chewing that on the court," Tomoe tells him reproachfully as she lowers her hand slowly.

Hara's expression is unreadable beneath that layer of bangs, but once he's managed to peel the gum away from his nose, he grins at her. "I didn't think we'd be seeing you 'round here again, even after Furuhashi gathered all of our signatures."

"You'll be seeing me a lot more soon."

"Hmm~ is that because you're dating the coach now or...?"

"Hara." A hand claps down on his shoulder, and a head of fiery-red hair comes into view. Beady eyes stare blankly at Tomoe for a moment before he says, "Good, you're back, Kurosawa. Practice is more bearable with you around."

"Huh?"

Just as she is voicing her confusion, a shadow falls over her—and she cranes her head to see Furuhashi hovering behind her. "He's referring to the coach's training methods being less... severe."

Dubious, she quirks a brow. "I don't think I—"

"Mm~ Kuro-chan makes a good mascot. Look at these chubby cheeks." Just as Hara suddenly outstretches those creepy, skeletal fingers toward her, Yamazaki seizes his wrist.

"Hanamiya would kill you," Furuhashi warns with a look of disinterest. His gaze darts across the gym and then to the door. Although they have talked about him, the actual person in question is nowhere in sight, which is an oddity considering he's usually the first one in the gym for practice.

Seeming unrepentant, Hara extracts himself from his teammate's grip. "Ah, boring," he complains as he strolls off, intent to start practice whether or not their coach shows up at all.

Tomoe clears her throat, changing the subject. "I did want to come and formally tell you that I would be coming back as manager, but it will be a little while before I actually return to practices regularly again."

"Why?" Yamazaki demands immediately. A look realization and subsequent anger contorts his face. "Are your classmates bullying you? I heard a rumor about it." He punches a fist into his open palm. "Just give us the names."

"H-huh?!" she gasps, mouth gaping. Quickly she throws her hands out in front of her, shaking them vigorously. "No, no! I think you misunderstood. I'm not being bullied. I'm going in for surgery soon, so—"

"Surgery?" Furuhashi queries, his expressionless eyes peering down at her.

Tomoe points a finger to the scar stretching across her eye. "First on this, and then my eye. If everything goes well, I might be able to see out of it properly again."

Before any more questions can be asked, or anything else said about it, the sound of approaching footsteps echo through the gym. Everyone turns their gaze the moment they realize that Hanamiya has entered. The moment he spots the group, he approaches briskly. The smirk on his face gradually widens the closer he gets.

And then—almost comically—he purposefully steps between Yamazaki and Tomoe, where he gives the former a meaningful gaze. And almost immediately, the red-headed shooting guard takes a few retreating steps.

"I see you already announced the news," he says, habitually reaching up to pinch her cheek. It has become almost a ritual for him, every time he sees her. He seems to take great pleasure from it. Perhaps because it's the only way he can excuse touching her so frequently and so freely in public—under the guise of teasing her. "As soon as you recover, you'll resume your usual duties as manager."

"Normal, by normal does that mean—" Yamazaki tries to cut in.

"She won't be doing anything 'shady,' as she calls it," Hanamiya interjects, tugging Tomoe by the cheek in attempt to coax her to standing closer to him. "Practice will become more rigorous. We may have lost to Seirin this year, but it will never happen again. It's unfortunate that Iron Heart won't be there for us to crush next year, but his team still will be. And this time, we'll be ready."

"Wow, you actually sounded like a real coach—"

Hanamiya suddenly grasps her other cheek, stretching each in opposite directions. "What was that? Did you say something?" he asks in a sugary-sweet voice. "I thought I heard something come out of these lips just now."

Yamazaki looks on in exasperation, finally turning on his heel to start toward Hara and join him for practice. "Stupid couple," he mutters bitterly under his breath.

"Yamazaki—"

In the split second that he was distracted and turned his head away, Tomoe took the opportunity to lean up onto her tiptoes. Closing the distance between them, she lightly pecks him on the cheek. Once she receives that flabbergasted look from him, she smirks and shakes him off. "I have to go to a preliminary appointment for the surgery tonight. So I'll see you later... Makoto!" By the time he's gained his bearings, she's halfway to the door—and laughing victoriously.

And he thinks to himself that Kirisaki Daiichi's manager is far more formidable an opponent than any individual member from Seirin.

Author's Note: I decided to put this at the end of the chapter this time to make some closing comments that might have spoiled otherwise. I left potential conflict of Kirisaki Daiichi's playing method open-ended for a potential sequel in the future. (The likelihood of that happening may be questionable but certainly possible.) I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you to those who stuck around all these months, I hope you enjoyed the story and the ending!