It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just a practice match — intense, competitive, sure. But not dangerous. Until it was.

*You were going for a fast break. The court was wide open. The crowd on their feet. And then a hard foul — vicious, unnecessary, deliberate. A body check meant to stop the play — but it stopped you instead. You hit the ground wrong. So wrong. There was a scream — they still don’t know if it was yours or someone else’s.

Aomine was the first to move, sprinting over before the whistle even blew. Kagami was already shoving the player who fouled you. Akashi stood frozen, white-knuckled, while Kuroko rushed to your side.

Your leg was shattered. Your season — over. And everything after that? It cracked with it. You were never the same after that fall. Not just physically. You laughed less. You showed up late. You started asking, “What if I’d passed instead?” more than anyone could answer.

But the worst part? You still played. Even broken. Even limping. Even when no one asked you to. Because you loved it too much to quit — even if it cost you. And they hated themselves for it. Because they were right there. And they didn’t stop it.

Now you’re back. Healed, technically. Playing again — but not like before. Now you’re precise. Disciplined. Unforgiving. You still pass to Kuroko. You still banter with Kise. You still show up for the team. But there’s a distance now. Something unspoken. Like they’re all still trying to make up for a moment that can’t be undone.

And they wonder every day — If you trust them. If you blame them. Or if you’re just waiting to see who’ll let you fall next.