MiRACLE (KnB Fanfic)

5.

"Aisaka!" Ogiwara throws his voice, "come on out and play!"

The indigo-haired boy whirls out of his bed, throwing off the covers as he just, very confusedly, blinks for a long moment.

Fresh out of a dream, his sleep-muddled mind is equal parts exhausted and confused. It takes him a second to remember his own name, then he turns to the clock just to make sure it's actually morning this time.

Last time he woke up, it was in the middle of the night and his father really wanted to know why he was making breakfast at three am.

Yeah, that didn't end well.

"Aisaka!!"

He jerks out of his spot, knocking over a lamp post.

Wait, that wasn't part of his dream?? Actually, he couldn't remember much of that dream except that for some reason, Kuroko had bandages around his head? Or was that a scarf...

"Aiiiisakaaaa!!!!"

He throws his window open and screams into the world, "shut up!"

"Yay, you're awake!"

"It's five bloody am you oversized fucking idiot!"

"He's swearing, oops!"

Aisaka takes a moment to appreciate the view of Ogiwara Shigehiro scampering away, basketball tucked under his arm. He slings half of his body over the ledge of his window and groans, limbs sore and headache burning in his skull.

If this was his past life, he would've broken a few skulls if anyone dared yell him awake at this ungodly hour. It was probably the most common reaction, to be honest.

Instead, he crawls out of his bed, pulls off his pyjama top, and picks out a decent T-shirt before going to look for shorts in the drawer.

"Seriously, those punks have too much energy," he grumbles, "who the hell willingly wakes up at five am to play basketball before school, every day?"

He's not that young anymore... okay, maybe he's twelve now, but he's mentally like thirty so cut him some slack.

He puts a hand at the back of his neck as he yawns, trying to walk the sleepiness out of him. His fingers prod against the slightly raised, red birthmark across his nape.

In his last life, his head injury was somewhere around here, too. So that was creepy.

He muffs up his hair, knowing it's decently presentable even without a comb. He was never one to have much of a bedhead, anyways... He steals his father's hoodie and drags it over his head.

He gets dressed and leaves the room, snatching the house keys off the side while he wriggles in a shooting glove on his dominant hand. His door is open before his shoes are fully on.

He swings over the balcony of the third floor, grabbing onto the ledge of the second. Using the wall as a leverage, he hops to the radio pole beside the building, and slides down to the roof of a car before bouncing off a rain-drenched stool and landing cleanly on the ground.

A few squirrels scatter at the movement, but he pays it no mind.

He stretches until a satisfying joint pops, then he breaks into a dash.

-

"Do you really have to call me out like that every time you don't see Kuroko around?" Aisaka asks, exasperation evident in his tone.

Ogiwara has the cheek to grin like he was proud of it. He pants heavily, hands on his knees as he catches his breath, "but playing alone is boring," he says, like it's obvious, "and you're free anyways, right?"

Aisaka pulls his hoodie over his head and grimaces at the sweaty fabric.

"Well yes, I am free..." He tosses it aside and reaches for Ogiwara's water bottle, giving a shoulder shrug at the boy as a silent request for permission, "but I've also got chores."

Ogiwara waves his hands dismissively, to say go ahead . "Well, you don't reject me," he points out, as if that's a valid argument, "and you're good at basketball."

"My skills in basketball are irrelevant," Aisaka retorts instinctively, but he's smiling anyways, giving the boy a rough play-shove in retaliation. He raises the water bottle and takes a large, quenching gulp, gasping in satisfaction after.

Ogiwara snorts out a laugh, and he shoved back. The bottle jumps in Aisaka's hands and the water spills all over. They crumble into unsalvageable guffaws as Ogiwara shakily tries to salvage his school uniform.

"Once summer break comes around, let's go mountain biking! All three of us," Ogiwara suggests, standing his water bottle up beside the bench.

"Mountain biking? Y'sure?"

He remembers going on those-- maybe once? In his past life. Those bikes were hella heavy, though.

"Of course! I dragged Kuroko out with me last year, too!" he says, "that guy, he's got crazy low stamina, y'know? The uphills with him were hilarious, I think at some point I had to carry him and two bikes at the same time."

Don't call your friend's suffering hilarious, Aisaka doesn't point out. Instead, he rolls his eyes and says, "don't compare him to you, Ogiwara, you've probably got enough stamina to run a 10k."

"Huh? How'd you know?"

"Holy crap, you can ?"

"Isn't that what pacing is all about?"

"You're twelve years old, stop being a bloody cheat !"

"I don't know what that is but I don't like how it sounds!"

Ogiwara squawks when Aisaka lunges on, shoving him to the ground by the shoulders. His knees buckle and they collapse in a pile. Aisaka runs his hands through the boy's hair with every intent to mess it up.

Ogiwara screeches like a gremlin got to him, clambering up but being unable to throw off the slightly smaller male from his neck.

"Why do you have no flaws? You need one!"

"Get off me! My hair! I have class in two minutes, Aisaka, don't!!"

"I'm gonna make this look like Kuroko's bedhead if I can!"

"No, anything but that, please!!"

-

Aisaka spends the rest of his year at home and in the public library to study up on the basics again, if only for his father's assurance.

His father's job dwells to stable work hours. Learning strongly from mistakes, he scrounges through every loophole to come home in time for his son. Much more than anything, he loved his child and Aisaka almost found it miserable how he could never enjoy this love fully. He may be Hiroto now, but his heart will always think otherwise.

He sits on the dinner table with his father, and his mind brings him back to times with his mother-- his roommates-- and he would so starkly realize that in the end he is not and will never fully be Aisaka Hiroto.

He was just a ghost, possessing this body and using it to live his dream one more time, one more time-- until the spell inevitable shatters and hope is lost once again.

But maybe that's fine, too.

"Goodnight, Hiroto," his father whispers to him, brushing back his bangs and planting a gentle kiss on his forehead-- it's an intimacy that they both think is too childish and cheesy, but they do it anyways. They wouldn't give it up for the sake of the world.

"Sleep tight. Love you."

Even if this love doesn't truly belong to him--

Maybe he was put here to enjoy it anyways.