Title: Just Look Where We Have Landed
Author: imaginary_witness
Pairings: MurAka
Characters: Murasakibara Atsushi, Akashi Seijuro, Kise Ryouta
Ratings: Teen/PG
Warnings: Violence (mild/mentioned)
Genre: Friendship, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story: living (or passed) human beings or fictional characters. These events never happened, according to history or as the original author intended them. This is a work of fiction and is not intended to offend. For entertainment purposes only. Thanks.

A slender pair of hands grabbed the ball out of the air. Atsushi looked behind him to find there was no one there. The commotion of Midorima stealing the ball had distracted him enough to allow Akashi to slip by him.

The gymnasium went quite. There was only two ways the last minute would proceed: by a stroke of luck, Midorima would be able to make a three pointer that would tie the game and save the first string their dignity. Or the game would end with Akashi leading the second string to victory, which could possibly end with an additional two points if he succeeded in getting by Atsushi.

Atsushi felt the noose around his neck tighten. He barred his teeth and crouched low. There was no way he was going to let Seijuro slip by him again. He would just have to double up with Aomine to get the ball as close to the midline as they could for Midorima to take the shot. Every pair of eyes in the room was on him now, watching the short captain advance.

Atsushi forced himself to focus. He felt the sweat trickle down the side of his face, but fought against the disturbance. He narrowed his eyes, pushed himself to crouch lower, to bring his gaze up to meet Akashi's. He felt sick when he saw the look in his flaming red eyes, the look that told him Akashi had wanted this game to happen, had waited to seize this moment. In his heart he knew there would be no way to stop Akashi, no way to keep him from winning.

'No.' he utter to himself.

He wished they were on an outdoor court. He wanted to spit. He felt sick. He shouldn't have eaten before he came back inside the gym.

Akashi smirked, reading the worn expression in his opponents eyes. He dribbled the ball slowly, menacingly, buying time. With his free hand, he made a motion to his teammates to get inside the key from behind. Atsushi knew what he was planning, Akashi was seeking a gap in his defense to duck under and then have his team stop him from following.

Well, he wouldn't be getting any of that.

Atsushi smirked, forcing himself to remain crouched. His legs were beginning to burn lightly from having to stoop for so long. Akashi passed the ball from one hand to the other, back again. He dribbled it between his legs, moving forwards as he did so. The fast-paced movement caused Atsushi to step back. Akashi drove forward to the right. He kept the ball as far from Atsushi as he could, but continued to dribble it between his legs to keep Aomine from snatching it away.

Atsushi grunted with the effort to keep up, he didn't want to leave any opening for Akashi to slip by him. He fought against the strain in his muscles to just overpower him. It would be too easy to simply knock the ball out from Akashi, but the chances of harming him in the process was too great a risk for him to get away with.

Akashi stopped suddenly, continuing to dribble the ball between his legs, over in front, back under. He stood for a second before casually retracing his steps, backing away from the key. Atsushi made to follow before being stopped by the two second strings that had crept around to the back of the key. It was then he realized that Akashi hadn't meant for him to be blocked from following, he had been shepherded into a screen.

Time was running out. If he was going to stop Akashi, it would have to be now. Aomine raced forward to steal but Akashi simply outpaced him, rushing forwards to the three-point line and jumping off both feet. As he reached full height, he released the ball from his hands, those perfect pale hands curving into a delicate follow through. Aomine's hand's just missed smacking the ball to the ground by seconds. Atsushi stumbled, lost himself. He had been admiring Akashi as he performed his shot, had felt longing as he gazed at those soft hands. He growled, gave his head a small shake and jumped, determined to stop the ball from making the basket.

But the ball simply sailed over his fingertips. He felt the rough skin of the ball graze his fingertip before it passed by, hitting the backboard with just enough force to rebound it through the net.

The buzzer sounded, bringing the gymnasium to life. The kids in the second string began cheering loudly. For once the regulars held sour expressions.

Akashi smirked. It was all too easy.

It was quiet in the locker room that day. Aomine didn't say a word as he shut his locker forcefully and left. He never counted it as a loss when it was a loss to Akashi. Midorima sighed, exhausted, and remained silent as well. He placed his hand on Atsushi's shoulder before leaning down and whispering, "I'm sorry, Atsushi. You did you're very best."

The locker room was empty when Midorima left. Murasakibara stared down at the floor, for the first time in a long time since he felt the bitterness of defeat. He hated how even his sweets wouldn't rid him of the taste. He looked up when he heard soft footsteps coming from the showers.

Akashi had entered, wrapped from his chest to his knees in a towel. His hair glowed red from the blackness it had become in the shower and dripped with water. His skin was pale and his limbs were slender. He kept his gaze on the lock as he slid in his combination and retrieved some clothing from the hangers.

Murasakibara's mouth fell open. How had he ended up here, alone, with Akashi Seijuro? How did he lose to him?
He wanted to say something. He wanted to scream but no words came out. Akashi took his clothing to the stalls at the back and Atsushi heard the lock slide into place. Some soft sounds of shuffling as Akashi dropped the towel and began to get dressed. Atsushi bent his forefinger and bit on it, struggling to fight back tears. What were these feelings? Why over Seijuro?

Akashi walked back to his locker and placed his items away. He was dressed presentably again, his hair spiky and much drier, though still damp. He looked tired as he reached in for his bag and gently pressed his locker closed. He rested his forehead against the cool metal for a moment, muttered something inaudible under his breath and turned.

Atsushi stood slight, made the attempt. His legs burned, screamed at him to sit. "Aka-"

Akashi turned and glared, his red eyes shining with angry tears. Atsushi's voice failed him, and he slowly felt himself sit back down.

"Rest your legs, Atsushi." Akashi announced. "You pushed yourself hard today."

And with that Akashi turned and left. The locker room door click shut in his absence.

"Aka-chin." Murasakibara whispered to the empty room, fresh tears making their way down his face.

Akashi held his hand out, glowing slightly in the light misty rain. Atsushi's arm felt like lead and he struggled to raise it and reach back for Seijuro. The needles and medical equipment hooked up to his arm pulled and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Their fingertips touched slightly, graze, just as the basketball had.

"I can't close the gap." Atsushi whispered, pain in his voice.

Akashi shook his head, his hair shaking softly. He pulled his hand away slightly, just enough so they were no longer touching.

Atsushi reached forward again. The needles pulled. He moaned. "I can't, I can't." he whispered.

Akashi simply pulled away again.

Atsushi growled, angered by the weakness he bore. He threw himself at Akashi, the needles digging into his arm, others ripping out. He felt the blood trickle down his arm, felt his flesh tear. But it didn't matter because he held Akashi's hand, fell into Akashi's embrace...

Atsushi jolted up with a start. He move his hair off his face, drenched in sweat. His long arm reached out, and for a moment he feared that it would be bleeding and inserted with needles, to pick the alarm clock off his nightstand. The alien green digits screamed at him it was 2:54am. He fell back into his pillow, moaning at how late he had stayed up already.

"You look terrible!" Kise greeted him.

Atsushi simply grunted a reply. He had dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep he had last night. He flopped into his chair and placed his head on his desk, hair scattered. Kise tsked-tsked disapprovingly, softly brushing his hair into a clean ponytail. His fingers were soft and slender, warm. Atsushi caught himself vaguely wondering what Akashi's fingers would feel like.

"Kise?" he mumbled, pausing on chewing his own arm.

"Yes?" Kise asked softly.

"What do you think of Akashi Seijuro?"

"Who?"

"Nevermind."

"Is that's what eating away at you?"

"What?"

"It's just that you seemed a bit jumpy since those presentations yesterday."

"Oh, yeah. Those. It's just I knew him once."

"Oh?"

"He's just...different now."

Kise giggled softly. "Well, when did you know him?" He asked, his fingers beginning to lace Atsushi's hair into a gentle braid.

"A while ago. I used to pick on him in school when we were younger."

"Why? Murasakibaracchi, I never thought you were a bully."

Atsushi flushed red. "I never really looked at it as bullying."

"But you're so nice now."

Atsushi flushed redder. "Kise-chan, please stop."

"Tie?" Kise held his hand out.

Atsushi complied, giving him one of many off his wrist.

Kise tied off the braid and came around to grab both sides of Murasakibara's face in between his hands. "The past is the past, Murasakibaracchi. You can't change it. Don't feel down."

Something in Kise's eyes was screaming at Atsushi that he understood, that everything could be alright. He sighed and felt that a lot of things were screaming out at him lately.

"Have hope." Kise whispered, giving him a quick hug before darting to his seat across the room as the bell rang.

Atsushi looked up in time to see Akashi sneak into the room, pass down the aisle by the wall and take his seat. He felt a flush of embarrassment rush down his spine as he turn his gaze to Kise, who was watching him. He smiled and nodded and Atsushi swallowed his gum, knowing deep down that he eventually would have to talk to Akashi.

Class dragged by and Murasakibara gazed out the window, watching the wind blowing the tree branches. He felt sick. He had come to the decision to approach Akashi after class ended. He knew Seijuro would be the last to leave, he would simply wait for him and...

And what? What do you say to somebody who stabbed you with some medical scissors after you endlessly tormented them for years? A simple apology wouldn't remove the amount of damage that Atsushi had caused, it wouldn't cure the rumors that had spread due to Akashi's antisocial behavior. And Murasakibara couldn't find it in him to blame Akashi for the way he behaved towards others. After what he had done to him, Akashi couldn't be blamed for his trust issues.

"Atsushi? Atsushi?"

Murasakibara jolted in his seat. "Yes sempai?"

"Day dreaming again? Your partner for this project is Akashi Seijuro."

All the blood in Murasakibara drained. It was all he could do to nod.