Slam Dunk Fan Fiction ❯ I Don't Know How To Love Him ❯ Solace ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimers: Slam Dunk and its characters is solely Takehiko Inoue's. I stake no claim whatsoever on the series and no profit was earned as this fanfic is for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: This contains YAOI or male-to-male relationships. If by some chance you find this revolting, I suggest that you hit the back button immediately. I will not tolerate any flames regarding the content of this fiction as such is a blatant indication that the warnings were not heeded accordingly.

Read with proper discretion.

A/N: I've been perusing through a handful of Slam Dunk fics, and then the weirdest urge came to me, which soon led to the creation of this fic. This is my first attempt at writing for this pairing so try not to bite me hard. ^__^

The title came from this particular song (I don't know the title), which, I must say, is rather depressing.

It's raining.

Warm droplets fell in thick clumps, trailing to Hanamichi's face, down his neck, before finally seeping through the soft material of his shirt. The said shirt clung to his body like a second skin, now devoid of warmth it once provided. Hanamichi shivered involuntary as a whisper of icy wind blew.

The night was cold, the breeze harsh and biting against his skin. Soft pattering sounds of raindrops falling onto marble drowned the silence that enveloped him, gentle and comforting all at the same time.

How long had he been sitting there? Minutes? Hours? Would it be too much if he'd stay longer? Much longer?

So cold...

Funny, he never imagined himself being reduced to this--ever. It was much different when the whole team was there; he had to maintain his composure because he knew that it wouldn't do any good if he showed some form of weakness. How he managed to maintain his calm facade surprised him; he was never good at hiding his emotions.

But the moment everyone left, the barriers that he bravely tried to erect began crumbling right in front of his very eyes.

He remembered it all, with painstakingly vivid detail that he knew would haunt his nights. Haruko's loud cries... his teammates' painfully stifled sobs...

Hanamichi wished to seek comfort from his friends, yet he feared that they wouldn't understand his dilemma.

It's a little secret of his. And now, he's the only one left to keep it.

But god, it's harder than all that he's ever imagined. It's painful, and frustrating, and a whole bunch of feelings practically new to him. He never knew how to mourn properly, even after having lost a loved one before. He never could shed tears freely, not because he didn't want to, but because he simply couldn't.

The cold stone stood regally in his back, a graceful curve rendered on smooth surface that seemed to hold all the secrets between him and the other person. The person who's now oblivous to the world around him.

With shaking fingers, Hanamichi traced the inscription just like he did before. It traced every outline, every stroke as though a memory he feared would disappear the moment he let go. And then he brought them to a sudden halt and clenched his fist tight.

Then he began to hit the hardened ground.

Damn you, Kaede...

Yes. Damn him. Damn that blue-eyed fox for complicating things in more ways than he could care about. Damn him for making him feel so weak, so vulnerable and so utterly helpless even up to this time. He awakened feelings he never knew existed...

And damn him for leaving and breaking him this way.

"I hate you," he emphasized every word with furious blows that soon smeared the marble with a dark shade of red. The stain turned pink before it dissolved to nothingness in the rain. "I hate you." Even the lie started to sound good to him.

Hanamichi brought up his hands, staring past the blood that dripped from his knuckles. It felt good. So good. As irrational as it may sound, physical pain quelled the sudden bitterness that threatened to overwhelm him, choke him. He wanted to succumb, to just give in, but another part of him told him to do otherwise.

That small part of him whispered that he should move on. But how can one just forget when the pain is still raw and lingering? How can he just shrug, and then chalk everything up to experience as though nothing happened? Was that even possible?

Hanamichi shivered, closing his eyes a moment as he stood up. And then almost unconsciously, he began to walk aimlessly.

Sendoh dribbled the ball expertly on his fingers before delivering a perfect three-pointer. He dashed after the ball, and then whirled around as he heard the gym doors open.

"Still practicing this late?" Koshino mused, almost disapprovingly. "Don't you think you're a bit overdoing it?" He threw a white towel to Sendoh who deftly caught it with his other hand.

Sendoh shrugged before answering, "Nah. I just needed to unwind." He wiped the towel across his face, taking particular attention on the sweat that beaded on his forehead.

Koshino looked incredulous. "Unwind?" He repeated. "Don't tell me you're still nervous about the finals?"

He just flashed him a sheepish smile.

Koshino sighed. "So, what do you think of our chances? Do you think we'll make it this time?"

"Maybe," Sendoh said, almost lost in his thoughts. "But I wouldn't be too sure about it."

"Do you think Shohoku will join the competition?" The slighter of the two frowned. "You know... after..."

Sendoh's smile faltered. It never crossed his mind before. "I have no idea. Maybe I'll ask Sakuragi or Ryota about it."

"I'm still shocked that Rukawa Kaede is gone; I don't know him that much, but still..."

Sendoh nodded. "Yeah," Brief memories of his rival entered his mind. Everything happened so unexpectedly... "And to think, we used to have one-on-one matches almost every week."

Both boys stood in contemplative silence as they tried to process the stunning event last week. The Shohoku ace's untimely demise rather shook the whole district, and the news practically spread like wildfire.

Sendoh, for one, still couldn't believe that Rukawa was gone; he never had the chance to get to know the stoic boy better. Most of their encounters had been reeking of hostility, although he honestly tried to at least befriend him. Rukawa's cold personality utterly contrasted his teammate Hanamichi. Unlike Rukawa, the redhead is brimming with confidence and passion unmatched.

"You know," Koshino began, abruptly cutting his line of thought. "This episode with Rukawa really got me thinking..."

"Oh?"

"Maybe it's a means to teach us things... to never let a moment pass."

Never let a moment pass...

Sendoh's face began to crack up with a small smile. Trust Koshino to be really thoughtful about things. "Say," he said, shifting the topic to a less depressing one. "What are you doing here?"

"Remember this school play? The one that will be shown next month?"

"Uh-huh..."

"I'm part of it."

Sendoh gaped at him. "You?" he blurted out, barely containing his laugh. "Are you sure? I mean, really sure about this?" He asked jokingly. Of course, he knew that Koshino could act, but baiting the other boy was really fun.

A glare. Exactly the reaction he expected. Koshino was just damn too predictable. And if his memory is correct about the other boy's personality, he'll bet that the other would go in a series of sarcastic statements to defend himself.

"Haha." Sendoh inwardly smirked. He's right. "You are such a comedian; did you know that, Sendoh-kun? I bet we can make a play ourselves."

"Really?" Sendoh decided to play along. "And I get to play a part too?"

"Of course," Koshino gave him a wicked smile. A smile of absolutely no good. "You'll be the lead character."

"Oh?"

"Yes and the play will be titled 'The Death Wish of a Moron.'"

"Nice title."

"It suits you. You're a moron."

Sendoh mocked a frown. "That's not a very nice thing to say," he whined almost childishly.

"Maybe," Koshino waved his hand as if dismissing the topic already. He could never win against Sendoh when he's acting like a brat. "Want to hitch a ride? My brother's here to pick me up and I'm fairly sure he won't mind giving you a lift."

He shook his head. "Nope. But thanks anyway"

"Are you sure?" Koshino asked, motioning over the heavy rain that pounded on the roof of the gym.

"Yeah, and I have this," he said, pointing to the umbrella that he somehow managed to procure inside the locker room. "Besides, my home is not that far from here."

The other boy nodded, heading for the doors. "Well, it's your choice. See you tomorrow then..."

"Tomorrow..." Sendoh murmured, returning the ball that he used in its cabinet. A few minutes later, he picked up his duffel bag and umbrella before heading out to the cold night.

Whatever possessed him to refuse Koshino's offer must really be an evil thing.

Sendoh stalked down the street, determinedly ignoring the rain that was pouring all around him. Unfortunately, the umbrella that he found on the locker room was broken, thus leaving him with no other choice but to go on.

A socked lock fell on his eyes, but he decidedly ignored it for the time being. The sound of his violent footsteps echoed in the deserted street as they splashed through the many puddles that had formed.

Shit! He cursed for the umpteenth time that night as he almost fell over on a slippery part of the sidewalk. Taking a glance at his already soppy form, he knew that it was a lost cause. He didn't even think that any clothes that he's wearing could get anymore wet. Running won't make a difference and he'll just be putting himself in a lot of danger if he slipped.

Turning around the corner, his gaze registered a lone figure with hair of a dark shade of red.

"Sakuragi?" Sendoh asked, clearly surprised of this encounter. When the redhead didn't budge, he repeated the question once more. "Hanamichi-kun, what are you doing here? Are you trying to get sick or something?"

Silence met him again. For some inexplicable reason, Hanamichi seemed to be totally oblivious of his presence.

"Sakuragi," This time, his voice carried concern. "Is there something wrong?" He could almost kick himself the moment the question left his lips. Of course, it's fairly obvious that there's something wrong.

"Sendoh," Finally Hanamichi acknowledged his presence and gave him a passive look. But his eyes. His eyes spoke words that he couldn't comprehend. Sendoh was taken aback with the tumult of varied emotions that flickered briefly on those brown eyes. "It's you."

"What are you doing here?"

Hanamichi seemed to be torn from telling him something and from just keeping his mouth shut. He took in a deep breath. "Nothing..."

Sendoh resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. Hanamichi looks sick. He was about to tell him that perhaps he should go home, but he forgo it for a worried "What's wrong?"

Hanamichi shrugged. "Just thinking."

Thinking in the rain? Sendoh was not about to believe that, but he thought that he had to, for now. He can't pry too deeply, fearing that the redhead will just evade the question even more. "Okay." He told him, making sure plenty of doubt suffuses on his voice.

The redhead shot him a look, and for a moment seemed a little like the Hanamichi he knew. "I'm fine."

Sendoh nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral. "Okay," he then thought of a final word to at least help Hanamichi. After all, they have reached a point where they can be called friends. Maybe the redhead was just not in the mood to talk about what's bothering him. "But if there's something you need, you know where to find me right?"

"Sure."

Sendoh's house came into sight, and he cautiously walked towards the front door. Barely giving himself an instant to draw breath, he pounded softly on the wood, then stood back and waited. As soon as he paused enough to give himself a chance to think, his chest tightened with anxiety and he folded his hands under his arms to still their shaking.

What's wrong with me? What am I doing? Rushing to Sendoh's house in the middle of the night... maybe I should just go...

He took several steps backward, squashing the need to take refuge from someone he barely knew. But another part willed him to stay, that perhaps he might find solace that he yearned for.

Then maybe, just maybe... I'd see it for myself...

Then the door opened, making the decision for him.

Sendoh blinked at him sleepily, his eyes groggy, dressed in snug-fitting pants. His dark hair was stuck straight up on one side and remained plastered to his head on the other. He folded his arms to his naked chest to ward off the biting night breeze.

Then his eyes gave recognition and they widened, sleep finally brushed off on the farthest corner of his mind.

"H-Hanamichi?" He asked, and then as soon as he had a better look at the redhead, a concerned, "What's wrong?" Oh great. Now he's parroting what he said earlier.

Hanamichi was still sopping wet, his hair and face dripping, his stance downcast and his eyes refusing to meet the other boy's. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes on a particular spot on the ground.

"I-I... I was... I just... I..." he stammered, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I... I should go. I'm sorry." He started to turn to his heels when Sendoh's gentle voice stopped him.

"Wait." Sendoh stepped back and held the door open. "Come inside."

Hanamichi hesitated, darting his eyes as he thought of a polite refusal. There was a long silence as Sendoh remained still, not pressing him.

A warm hand touched Hanamichi's shoulder. He lifted his gaze and was surprised at the earnest expression that crossed Sendoh's features. Finally, after much internal debating, he nodded then stepped past him, into the house, and Sendoh shut the door before turning to face him.

"Just wait there," Sendoh pointed over to an old, worn-out couch. "I'll get a towel and some dry clothes for you."

"But-" Hanamichi glanced down at himself and shrugged before looking at him again.

"Don't worry about that," Sendoh said reassuringly, noting the slight flush that graced Hanamichi's face.

Hanamichi shook his head at himself, closing his eyes. "I shouldn't have gotten you up for this."

"Hanamichi," Sendoh whispered quietly, "It's alright. I offered to help, so you have to hold me to that promise."

"I... thank you."

Sendoh walked past him and headed down the hallway, absently wondering about Hanamichi's state of mind. Reaching his bedroom, he slipped inside, walking to his cabinet and beginning to dig through his drawers to find something the redhead could wear. They were around the same size so it wouldn't be a problem at all.

Finally, after finding a pair of blue sweatpants and a black shirt, he headed back into the lounge. He saw the redhead on the couch, his eyes closed and his back leaning on the soft cushion.

"Hanamichi...?" Sendoh asked, tapping his shoulders. No answer. This time, he noticed Hanamichi's ragged breath and the more prominent flush on his cheeks. "Hey," He brought his hand to the redhead's forehead, only to come up alarmed at the heat it radiated.

"Shit."

Hanamichi tossed in his sleep, moaning and mumbling incoherent words under his breath. Sendoh had no idea if the redhead will require a professional help, or just frantic hoping.

What's wrong with him? He fretted anxiously, wondering if this particular episode had something to do with Rukawa's death. The two had been civil to each other so he assumed that Hanamichi probably must be upset over the loss of a teammate. Maybe he did care more than he let on.

But then, he had a feeling that there's more to this. Something bigger.

"Kaede..."

Frowning, Sendoh stood up from his seat and leaned closer to Hanamichi so as to hear his mumblings. He knew that he shouldn't do such things, as it practically violates Hanamichi's privacy. But curiosity got the better of him.

His eyes widened at the next words that greeted his ears.

"Kaede... don't leave. I love you."

He really didn't expect to hear that.

To be continued...

A/N: Ah. So there it goes. Well, like it or hate it? Tell me! I hope I didn't give out much spoilers for the story... and yes, there's a catch about Sendoh's little discovery.

A lot of people view Sendoh as a pervert... I don't think I agree with that. Just because he had this smiling face that looks like he just had some doesn't automatically mean that he's a maniac or something. Hmm... enough of my ramblings.