She's a Fujoshi! (Kuroko no Basket - Kise Ryouta Fan Fiction)

Nineteen - Worries

Mashiro Yuki

I didn't know what to feel.

On one hand, a heart-throbbing update of Ten Count, a psychological yaoi manga, has been released today; we're having hotpot tonight as a mini celebration of the high score Eita, my little brother, received; and Kuro-tan, along with Seirin, of course, won today's match.

On the other, I wasn't even halfway through all of Ouran High School Host Club's manga's chapters, as it is what Ryumi-senpai required me to read; dad's coming home has been postponed from Christmas this year to another holiday next year; and Ryouta-kun, along with Kaijou, no matter how strong and awesome they were today, lost today's match against Seirin.

I was happy for Seirin's win---I really was---but I've never seen Ryouta-kun cry. Yes, I've seen him mock-cry due to Kasamatsu-senpai's harsh scoldings, but I've never really seen him cry out of genuine loss and sadness. It made me feel guilty for being happy for Kuro-tan. The fact that I always get this heavy sensation weighing in my chest whenever I see a friend cry made me feel worse.

So, as a friend, I wouldn't be assured until I make sure that he'd be okay, that he'd feel supported despite the unfortunate event. But I have no idea how to do that at the moment.

Arms crossed in front of my chest, I paced back and forth in front of one of the entrances of the stadium. As I was pretty sure that this exit would what the Kaijou basketball team would use, I waited for them to come out. My brother sat beside the door, leaning on the wall and watching me walk back and forth with tired eyes.

"Yuki," Keiichi-nii called my attention calmly, making me stop in my repeating tracks. His expression had a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Calm down. It's not you who lost in the game."

"But Onii-chan!" I responded with a pout. How could he, who was once the ace player of the team who just lost, be so collected about this?! "Aren't you the least bit sad that they lost?"

He crossed his arms and pouted as well. "Geez, Yuki! I'm not heartless!" He placed his hand on his chest dramatically, wiping the imaginary tear that rolled down his cheek. "You hurt my feelings!" He then turned to me, his arms outstretched as if beckoning for an embrace. "You should comfort your dear, dear brother! It's your fault I'm hurt!"

I gave him the usual I'm-not-taking-any-of-your-siscon-weirdness look. "Remain hurt, then. Sorry, not sorry."

"Yuki~!!!" he whined, further mock-weeping.

I stepped away and pointed at him then looked towards the part where there were many people. "I don't know this person."

"Yuki, why?!"

"Keiichi," I called him by his name and dropped the honorific, "staph."

He chuckled and wagged his hand. "Kidding, kidding!"

I am not amused.

"Well, at least you're looking better," he now gave me a sincere smile, "unlike earlier."

Oh.

Tapping the ground beside him, he gestured me to come sit with him. I sighed, and complied to his wish. Just a second after I sat, a large hand then patted my head. I was about to give my brother a tired glare, as this could be one of his antics once again, but then I was met by his reassuring grin.

"It's not the end of the line for Kaijou. They could still end up at 3rd place, you know."

I sighed again. Even if that was the case, it wouldn't take away the fact that they lost the match they worked so hard for. And to think that this was the third years' last chance with getting to become the champions? It wasn't really that comforting.