Requiem - Kuroko no Basket

The clamor of the high school gym echoed with the steady rhythm of basketballs hitting the floor, the sound as familiar to Yukito Aizawa as the beat of his own heart. Yet, standing at the entrance of Seisen High's dilapidated gym, he felt an eerie stillness settle over him, despite the activity inside.

This was it. The first step back into a world he had sworn to abandon.

Yukito's eyes scanned the court. It was a mess—like the school itself. The players were unrefined, sloppily moving in desperate attempts to keep up with a game they had no mastery over. The whole gym looked like it had been forgotten by time, much like the school's reputation.

Perfect, Yukito thought. It was exactly what he needed.

A tall figure stepped onto the court, his long strides and fierce gaze cutting through the disarray like a knife through paper. Yukito recognized him immediately: Sora Miyazaki, the former prodigy whose temper had gotten him kicked out of his prestigious middle school team. His reputation had been shattered, and now, here he was, a player with no future and nothing to lose.

Yukito waited until the practice session ended, leaning against the doorway, arms folded casually. His presence was a deliberate challenge, a reminder that someone had been watching. The moment Sora's eyes locked onto Yukito's, the tension in the air thickened. Sora stormed toward him, his eyes narrowed.

"You got something to say?" Sora growled, his voice sharp, filled with the pent-up aggression that had ruined his career.

Yukito didn't flinch. He had no intention of backing down. "That depends," he said coolly, "on whether you want to keep wasting your time with this garbage team or if you're ready to play for real."

Sora's scowl deepened. "Who the hell are you?"

"Yukito Aizawa," he replied, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer. "I'm here to build something different. Something better. And I need someone like you."

Sora's laugh was hollow. "I don't need your charity, Aizawa. I don't play for losers."

"Neither do I," Yukito said, his eyes hardening. "But let me be clear. I'm not asking. I'm telling you. You've got two choices: stay here, rotting away with this pathetic excuse for a team, or come with me and help me destroy the Phantom Five."

At the mention of the Phantom Five, Sora's expression faltered for a moment. Everyone in the basketball world knew about them—prodigies from Teiko Middle School, legends in their own right. But more importantly, they were the ones who had betrayed Yukito.

Sora looked Yukito over again, this time with more scrutiny. There was something dark in the other boy's eyes, something cold and determined that Sora recognized. He had seen it in his own reflection too many times.

"Why do you want me?" Sora asked, crossing his arms.

Yukito's lips curled into a slight smirk. "Because you're ruthless. You play with anger, with power. You don't just want to win—you want to break your opponents. That's what I need."

Sora studied him for a long moment. "And what do you get out of this?"

Yukito's expression shifted, the brief glimpse of a smirk disappearing behind an unreadable mask. "Revenge."

Later that night, Yukito found himself alone on a deserted court, a basketball resting between his hands. The moonlight filtered through the chain-link fence, casting eerie shadows across the pavement. This court, this game—it had once been his entire life. But now, it was just a tool, a weapon to be wielded in his pursuit of vengeance.

He tossed the ball, letting it bounce once before catching it again. The sound echoed in the still night air, a rhythmic reminder of everything he had lost.

In the distance, he could almost hear the laughter of his former teammates. The Phantom Five had moved on without him, become legends while he had faded into obscurity. But they hadn't broken him. Not yet. Yukito had spent years planning his return, honing his mind and body for this moment.

He bounced the ball again, the dull thud reverberating through the empty court. Soon, he thought. Soon, they'll all know what it feels like to be betrayed.

With a swift motion, Yukito launched the ball at the hoop, watching as it spun through the air, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Swish.

It was the sound of things to come.