Tsuyaka misses Kyo.
The sun is hardly more than a faint smudge on the horizon when Tsuyaka rises. When the sun finally bridges the line of trees that borders the park, she is already there. The basketball is gritty in her hands. Sweat runs down her temples, and makes her upper lip shine.
She pants, winding down slowly. The ball strikes the ground rhythmically, loud in the otherwise silent park. Tsuyaka bites her lower lip, adjusts her hold on the ball, and shoots. It falls into the net, cleanly, easily. She feels cheated by her own skill. The ball rolls away from her, onto the grass.
The morning air is chilly, and perspiration dries cool along Tsuyaka's spine as she rests. She follows the ball off the court, and onto the grass. She sits, and rubs the sweat and dirt from her palms onto the grass. She loves this game--has loved basketball since she was a little girl--but. . . she has grown bored with her routine, and with the girls who can hardly keep up with her, let alone match her skill.
She misses Aizawa.
Aizawa hated greeting the sun, but she loved basketball as passionately as does Tsuyaka. They could play for hours, the two of them, and it was glorious. Basketball was more than a game when played with Aizawa--it was something that Tsuyaka had been able to feel pulsing in her blood, filling her heart to overflowing with joy.
Aizawa had taken that feeling with her when she left, and Tsuyaka had borne that loss long enough. It was time that she get back her unmatched joy in this game she loved.
It was time that she get back Kyo.