20.09.’17
kuroko no basket, takao pov
he won’t let shin-chan’s and akashi’s effortless teamwork bring him down.
a/n: spoilers for the movie
~
he trains.
harder, harsher, more focused than he’s ever been before. he can tell even shin-chan’s a bit suspicious of it, though his stoic partner doesn’t say anything, just accepts the long hours of practice as only natural if they want to perfect their combinations.
it’s kind of frustrating.
he’s being irrational, he knows, and he knows he has nothing to worry about, that their teamwork is as good as it’s ever going to get, that shin-chan wouldn’t do something as pointless as make comparisons.
it still nags in the back of his mind, though.
they’ve poured so many hours into perfecting that pass, days and days and days dedicated to it, to making sure that they always get it just right, the timing, the speed, the height. everything.
and then along comes perfect akashi seijuurou and does it so effortlessly, without even having tried it once before, and takao can’t help the bitter laughter bubbling up his throat. because of course it would be perfect.
of course.
so he swallows the bitter lump in his throat every time he remembers, and trains harder, makes sure he gets better.
because he won’t let anyone, not even the former captain of the generation of miracles himself, overshadow him as shin-chan’s partner.
