Slam Dunk Fan Fiction ❯ When The Music Stops ❯ One-Shot
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: MitsuiSelphie 
How will Rukawa feel when he discovers, that the reason of his father's death is none other than the game he loves most - basketball.
Anime/Manga: Slam Dunk Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.02.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 826 | Visits: 755 | Status: Completed
How will Rukawa feel when he discovers, that the reason of his father's death is none other than the game he loves most - basketball.
Anime/Manga: Slam Dunk Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.02.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 826 | Visits: 755 | Status: Completed
Title: When The Music Stops
Author: MitsuiSelphie
Rating: PG-13
Genre: supposed to be angst…ended up…-_-…weird…
Archive: SYLPH (http://www.geocities.com/mitsuisylph)
Disclaimer: SD characters belong to Dr. T, poem belongs to mwa
Warning: This is a Rukawa fic…*looks at hanase….*
Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for Esra-sama, Rukawa No Miko and dedicated to my good friend, mihari, Rukawa No Hime.
* Words written in italics without parentheses enclosing them compose my poem. Words in italics enclosed in parentheses are Rukawa's thoughts.
~*~
A tall pale-skinned man could be seen furiously dribbling a basketball in the Kanagawa public court, sweat dripping down his knotted brows, mouth set in a thin line of grim concentration. It was the middle of a supposedly sweet spring day, but the mood of the heavens seems to comply with the ominous aura of the man. The wind felt frosty and the once gay whistling of the songbirds sounded dismal.
When the music stops,
Where do I go?
Do I continue to walk along its tune,
or do I find another path to follow?
The man executed a perfect lay-up, ball passing smoothly in the middle of the hoop. He had long been known as the best basketball player in the Kanagawa district, he was famous, revered, admired…but still…he was just an empty shell of a man. Long gone was the super rookie of old. He had no more desire to play basketball…he was still the best, but being the best is never good enough…not when you already lost the fire of desire to play.
When the music stops,
What should I do?
The music in which I have danced to for so long…
Do I continue to waltz on with the sounds of silence,
or do I stop as it had stopped playing in my head?
Long ago, each bounce of the ball meant something for him…long ago, this game was everything to him…but now…everything had changed.
(I have changed…Fuck…I don't want to change…shit…this is all your fault …)
It just came one day, the knowledge of his father's death, like a thief in the middle of the night…stealing every drop of willpower to play in him.
(I thought you left us when I was still small…I didn't know you passed away…)
All the words…the explanations…he didn't want to listen. He caught a word or two from everything that was said… "You're father died from basketball," his mother explained, when he finally asked her where his father was. Basketball? He heard the words "damaged," "spinal column" and "comatose" used in one sentence, but his brain could not process the information. His mind stopped functioning properly the moment the word "basketball" was associated with the death of his father. His father died from basketball…because of basketball, his mother suffered harsh nervous breakdowns…because of basketball, he had to be rehabilitated for a severe case of depression. He didn't know…that all his suffering came from the game he loved most - basketball.
(It's unfair…why did I have to find out now? Now it's too late…already too late…)
But the sound of silence is deafening…
Creating a black hole of grief in my head…
I feel empty…
Alone…
Worthless…
The blue-eyed fox stared hard at the ball in the ground. He had lost all his yearning to start dribbling it once more. Now, every thud of the cursed ball brought sorrow to his very soul, every quiver of the reverberating hoop brought visions of him trying to comfort his weeping mother every night since that fateful day he thought his father left them for another woman…
There was no hatred in him…nor was there sorrow any longer. There was just the overwhelming feeling of coldness seeping down his very spirit. What used to be the only thing to make fires of amber burn wildly in his eyes became the very thing that made him colder than before. Long gone was the super rookie of old…
Like the sound of breaking glass,
The deafening sounds of silence…
Eating my soul away,
Transforming me into a lifeless empty shell…
He felt his face getting wet, but not with his own perspiration. Looking up at the grieving heavens, splatters of water became bigger and increased in number…
(It's raining…)
He held his arms up before him and felt the cold spring shower drench his calloused hands…
(…even the sky is mourning…)
…and for the first time in his life, rain did not get him depressed.
Now that the music stopped,
My very essence lost its meaning…
Because the music that had ceased playing,
Is nonetheless but my very own life…
***OWARI***
Notes: Crazy, unedited and a spur of the moment fan fic made in 30 minutes. ^^;;;;; Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it very much. *bows* Ja na...
Finished: June 1, 2002 (23:00 PM GMT+8 or Singapore/Philippine time)
Author: MitsuiSelphie
Rating: PG-13
Genre: supposed to be angst…ended up…-_-…weird…
Archive: SYLPH (http://www.geocities.com/mitsuisylph)
Disclaimer: SD characters belong to Dr. T, poem belongs to mwa
Warning: This is a Rukawa fic…*looks at hanase….*
Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for Esra-sama, Rukawa No Miko and dedicated to my good friend, mihari, Rukawa No Hime.
* Words written in italics without parentheses enclosing them compose my poem. Words in italics enclosed in parentheses are Rukawa's thoughts.
~*~
A tall pale-skinned man could be seen furiously dribbling a basketball in the Kanagawa public court, sweat dripping down his knotted brows, mouth set in a thin line of grim concentration. It was the middle of a supposedly sweet spring day, but the mood of the heavens seems to comply with the ominous aura of the man. The wind felt frosty and the once gay whistling of the songbirds sounded dismal.
When the music stops,
Where do I go?
Do I continue to walk along its tune,
or do I find another path to follow?
The man executed a perfect lay-up, ball passing smoothly in the middle of the hoop. He had long been known as the best basketball player in the Kanagawa district, he was famous, revered, admired…but still…he was just an empty shell of a man. Long gone was the super rookie of old. He had no more desire to play basketball…he was still the best, but being the best is never good enough…not when you already lost the fire of desire to play.
When the music stops,
What should I do?
The music in which I have danced to for so long…
Do I continue to waltz on with the sounds of silence,
or do I stop as it had stopped playing in my head?
Long ago, each bounce of the ball meant something for him…long ago, this game was everything to him…but now…everything had changed.
(I have changed…Fuck…I don't want to change…shit…this is all your fault …)
It just came one day, the knowledge of his father's death, like a thief in the middle of the night…stealing every drop of willpower to play in him.
(I thought you left us when I was still small…I didn't know you passed away…)
All the words…the explanations…he didn't want to listen. He caught a word or two from everything that was said… "You're father died from basketball," his mother explained, when he finally asked her where his father was. Basketball? He heard the words "damaged," "spinal column" and "comatose" used in one sentence, but his brain could not process the information. His mind stopped functioning properly the moment the word "basketball" was associated with the death of his father. His father died from basketball…because of basketball, his mother suffered harsh nervous breakdowns…because of basketball, he had to be rehabilitated for a severe case of depression. He didn't know…that all his suffering came from the game he loved most - basketball.
(It's unfair…why did I have to find out now? Now it's too late…already too late…)
But the sound of silence is deafening…
Creating a black hole of grief in my head…
I feel empty…
Alone…
Worthless…
The blue-eyed fox stared hard at the ball in the ground. He had lost all his yearning to start dribbling it once more. Now, every thud of the cursed ball brought sorrow to his very soul, every quiver of the reverberating hoop brought visions of him trying to comfort his weeping mother every night since that fateful day he thought his father left them for another woman…
There was no hatred in him…nor was there sorrow any longer. There was just the overwhelming feeling of coldness seeping down his very spirit. What used to be the only thing to make fires of amber burn wildly in his eyes became the very thing that made him colder than before. Long gone was the super rookie of old…
Like the sound of breaking glass,
The deafening sounds of silence…
Eating my soul away,
Transforming me into a lifeless empty shell…
He felt his face getting wet, but not with his own perspiration. Looking up at the grieving heavens, splatters of water became bigger and increased in number…
(It's raining…)
He held his arms up before him and felt the cold spring shower drench his calloused hands…
(…even the sky is mourning…)
…and for the first time in his life, rain did not get him depressed.
Now that the music stopped,
My very essence lost its meaning…
Because the music that had ceased playing,
Is nonetheless but my very own life…
***OWARI***
Notes: Crazy, unedited and a spur of the moment fan fic made in 30 minutes. ^^;;;;; Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it very much. *bows* Ja na...
Finished: June 1, 2002 (23:00 PM GMT+8 or Singapore/Philippine time)