Dreaming On - Kuroko no Basket

Back to America

A/N: Gaaaaaaiiiiiz. Gaiz. Guyz. Guys. Let's help me reach my goals of getting 1K comments on this fanfic, yeah? Yaah? Haha, I don't even know what I'm doing right now. I've been home for a month now on summer break, and my butt's gotten plump with me doing nothing but sleeping/lazying my days away, sitting at my laptop, doing online summer college courses (ugh.), and writing fanfics. Help me, so I can feel like I've accomplished something ahaha.

I did get a 96 on my chemistry exam last week though! I had another chem exam earlier tonight, and I think I did pretty well for not studying while I attended my older brother's college graduation in New York #ivyleague #firsttimeinnewyork #igotlostinthecity

You guys know the drill (^_^) Vote, comment, and follow

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            "WHAT?!" Riko's voice screeched on the other side of the line, "WHO DOES YOUR OTOU-SAN THINK HE IS, HUH?"

            "R-riko," I stammered, terrified. "A-ano, h-he's my otou-san, s-so he should be the one to m-make the call?" My voice gradually fell into a whisper. "And I can't really go against his wishes since he's my only living relative left."

            It was silent on the other side for a good minute, which made me squirm uncomfortably. Just as I opened my mouth to ask Riko if she was still there, I hear her sigh in defeat.

            "Just...just be careful, Masami-chan. If there's also any way, and I mean any way, possible for you to come back for the Winter Cup, we'll definitely need you. Please be safe." With that, Riko hung up without even waiting for me response. The dial-tone beeped monotonously in my ear, beep. Beep. Beep. Be–.

            I hit the end button of my phone, ending the dial-tone before slumping onto the cold floorboards, resting my head in my hands. Back to America, huh? Back to where basketball started for me. Back to where I lead my middle school team to victory in the National tournaments and where I got scouted for the Women's National Basketball Association. I spared a glance around my empty bedroom, void of everything that I owned. Back to where everything started.

            "Masami! Let's go!" Startled out of my thoughts, I hastily grabbed my last duffle bag and slung the strap over my shoulder. Glancing around my room one more time, I whispered, "Sayōnara." I walked briskly towards the door, closing it shut behind me without a second glance. I knew that if I turned around and stared at the empty room, I would burst into tears for the fourth time that day, and it was only eight in the morning. I trailed my fingers against the smooth, polished wooden railing as I descended the stairs, wanting to drag out the trip to the airport as long as I could.

            "Masami! I said, let's go!" Otou-san hollered from the doorway. I breathed out a deep sigh, picking my pace up and swiftly descended the stairs. I found otou-san outside, waiting by the car as he stared down at the face of his watch. I made my way towards the open trunk of our Toyota RAV4 and swung my duffle bag into it, slamming the trunk down shut. Otou-san shot a disapproving glance at me before settling into the driver side of the car. I sat down in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead through the tinted windshield at our now-empty house. It was void of life with all of the curtains pulled back, light filtering through the windows with nothing but the beige walls and maroon carpeted floors.

            Our drive to the airport was silent, both of us not bothering to break the silence for we were both too stubborn to give in. The thirty minute drive to the airport felt longer than necessary. I eagerly jumped out of the car and made my way to the trunk, unlocking the hatch. After selling our furniture, all we had left were our personal belongings and family photos. Otou-san had already shipped my grand piano ahead to our new house. I began to lug the suitcases out of the car one by one with otou-san helping. Five suitcases and a duffle bag later, we flagged down a bellboy and made our way into the bustling airport in Tokyo.

            "Otou-san, we should be heading over to Gate 3A," I tonelessly told him. He nodded his head and headed towards the check-out counter with the bellboy in tow. Lagging behind, I gripped the strap of my duffle bag tighter, digging my nails into the black nylon strap. I stiffly made my way towards the counter after otou-san. I could feel my heart slowly breaking apart as I watched my otou-san handing the man behind the counter our luggage, one by one. They were placed on the conveyer belt, slowly moving out of my sight.

            "Miss?" My head snapped back up after hearing someone addressing me. The young man behind the counter cleared his throat, his eyes moving towards my duffle. "Would you like me to take your bag?"

            I clenched the nylon strap tighter, pulling my duffle against me. I quickly shook my head.

            "N-no, thank you," I mumbled, feeling tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. When I felt the heavy gaze of my otou-san's on me, I quickly swiped my arm across my eyes, letting my Seirin basketball warm-up jacket absorb my tears.

            "Let's go, Masami." I was surprised at the gentle tone otou-san used directed at me. I guess he finally felt the guilt weighing down upon him for forcing me to move out of Japan. I shuffled behind him as he led the way to Gate 3A. It was good timing too, because by the time we reached out destination, people were rising up out of the plastic black seats, lining up to board the international plane. Otou-san and I followed suit and line up, gripping our tickets in our hands. I handed my boarding pass over to the woman who glanced at it before ushering me through the gates. I halted for a moment, uncertainty wavering through me.

            "Otou-san," I called out from my spot. "D-do I have to go too? C-can't I stay here in Japan with my friends? I'm sure they w-won't mind if I s-stay at their house." I mentally cursed myself for asking him and for stuttering. I watched as he turned around with bated breath. Please say yes, please say yes, please.

            "I'm sorry, Mimi," he apologized. "My word is final. We're going to America." I winced as he attempted to soften the blow by calling me "Mimi", an old nickname he, okaaa-san, and Kaname used to say. My shoulders sagged as I dejectedly followed him.

            We weren't a majorly wealthy family by any means, nor were we poor. Otou-san managed to get pretty good seats on the plane, especially if it was a direct flight from Tokyo, Japan to San Francisco, California. I snagged the window seat, not caring as otou-san sent me another disapproving look. It was the least he could do if he was making me abandon my life in Japan to give up his window seat.

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            Eleven hours later, I stiffly rose up from my seat. Having fallen asleep at irregular hours, wandering around the spacious plane, and eating lunch and dinner, I was done with being bored. Not to mention, having a sick person sitting behind me sneezing and blowing his nose quite loudly numerous times, I was irritated. I came close to turning around and snapping at the poor kid, but I refrained myself from doing so.

            I nearly bolted from the plane the second it came to a stop on the runway. San Francisco, California, huh? I wonder which dance studio was famous enough for otou-san to uproot everything I had back home for this, I bitterly thought. I quickly shook my head, gently slapping my cheeks with both hands, trying to get rid of the malicious thought. It wasn't me to hold a grudge and be bitter about it. I knew that I had to move on and make the best out of it. After all, otou-san was doing everything for the two of us to have better lives, right?

            "Masami!" My head swiveled to the direction I heard my name and found otou-san standing with our luggage. I had to shove my way through the thick throng of people to reach him, panting as I did so with effort.

            "Let's go home, Masami. To our new home."