Practice Makes Perfect

... Or so they say.

'Matt' dribbled the basketball easily with one hand, the steady rhythm of it pounding against the gym floor echoing off the walls. The junior was wearing simple clothes; a t-shirt with the word 'CATALYST' printed across it and typical basketball shorts. He stared at the direction of the net across the court, wondering what sort of angle he should throw the ball at. High and steady? A three-pointer? A slam dunk?

He had to chuckle at himself at the last one. He'd never do a slam dunk, never. Though it was much, much more accurate than the other options, he doubted that he'd have the leg strength to jump like that. Yes, he can run, but jump? Ah hell no.

He quickly moved forward a few paces, dribbling the ball between his legs. He then held it in his hands for a fraction of a second before ducking and turning, as if avoiding an enemy, before running at full speed toward the net, the ball pounding against the floor. He gave it on last bounce as he neared the net before grabbing it in both hands. He jumped, throwing the ball in the process.

Damn. He knew the moment the ball left his hands it was going to miss. He caught it as it rebounded straight back at him, almost as if it wanted to kill him for making such a stupid mistake.

Damn. Out of the 53 shots he had made so far, he had only gotten 36. Utter failure. 'Matt' absentmindedly patted down the fringe that covered his dead eye, knowing that it had parted when he had jumped. Besides the fact that he wasn't too great at basketball, his hair was another reason why he never joined the basketball team. His little secret would be too obvious during games.

Deciding that his break was over, the junior again dribbled the ball, this time casually tossing it toward the net. It dipped right into it, landing directly below the hoop. 37 out of 54~

Cyra was surprised to hear that someone else was playing basketball in the gymnasium. Just when she was about to try it a little again. She hadn't played since she came to Whisper Hallow. She was already wearing her basketball shorts and a white t-shirt, a tad too big for her, with the motif of a basketball over the net, with "Slamdunk" written below it. It was the smallest size avaible whe she bought it, but she had fallen in love with the shirt nonetheless.

She peeked in through the doors, and was stunned when she saw Matt play. She didn't know that he was even interested in basketball. She saw him dribbling the ball and then doing a basic throw. She sneaked inside the door and started clapping her hands with a big smile on her face.

'Matt' was retrieving the ball when he heard clapping. The ball in his hands, he whipped around. Who was watching him? No, more important, how long were they watching him? Enough to see his eye? Oh, hell, he hoped not. It would be quite a bit of explaining to do.

His shoulders relaxed just a bit when he saw the person's bright, red hair. It was Cyra, who already knew he was pretty blind. It probably would never hurt to tell her about his eye, though he was a bit afraid that she'd act differently around him if she saw it. That's what most people did once they saw the scars.

Small school here. he commented mentally. Out of all the strangers to come to the gym the same time it he was practicing, it so happened to be Cyra.

"You here to practice?" he asked her across the gym, holding up the basketball.

"Yeah. Believe it or not, I actually play basketball." She said, walking towards him. People would often just laugh when she said that. She looked ridiculuos on the field, short as she was. In any other case she would've walked away when she saw that there were someone else here, maybe part from Dante, but with Matt she felt secure. She couldn't describe it in any other way than that.

"Come on, I challenge you." She playfully hit the ball, causing it to fly out of Matt's hand and caught it herself, bouncing the ball at the floor.

"Challenge me?" he repeated, a bit surprised. When was the last time he was challenged by anybody? Oh, around elementary school, by Takashi. Didn't that game go disastrous, hahaha..

He wasn't too surprised that Cyra could play basketball. I mean, one she was wearing basketball clothes, and two: if it was possible for him, a 3/4 blind skinny-ass not-that-tall dude to play basketball, it was obviously possible for her.

"Um.. Alright," he said quietly. DAMMIT, he should've brought his eyepatch! He usually always held one around in case it was needed, but he hadn't been thinking this time. Nyah.. Whatever.

"I'm not that good, though," he warned. Cyra was obviously confident in her abilities, which meant that she was good at this sport. Man, maybe her basketball skills are as good as her cooking. If that's true I'm screwed.

Cyra waved his last comment off. "Bah, with that attitude you won't get anywhere." She catched the ball and held it with both hands. She tilted her head, face glowing with a smile. "Besides, it's only a friendly game." She could tell he wasn't really comfortable with it. It couldn't be because he was afraid to lose, right? That didn't match the image of Matt she had in her head. Oh well, I just hope that he doesn't feel like I'm forcing him, because I'm not, right?

She flinged the ball towards him. "You start. We'll just skip the whole field thing and go for scoring, since we're only two." She started skipping around, warming up her body. Even though they were just going to shoot she knew that she needed to be warmed up. It's basics.

"Well basketball is only a friendly sport to me," 'Matt' mumbled with a not that convinced expression, implying that he didn't do this for sports. It was more of something to concentrate on, like drawing. Just something to get his mind off of whatever problems he was having.

He caught the ball, watching her skip around for a moment. He had already been shooting for an hour or so, so he started right away. He did another casual toss toward the net, calculating the angle so that it'd be similar but not exactly the same as his last throw.

The ball shot through the net as he predicted. 'Matt' jogged to it, grabbing it and tossing it at Cyra. He was glad that this was only a scoring game instead of a whole do-it-on-a-court game. As long as he didn't jump too high.. He sighed. Either he'd enjoy himself and risk showing his eye or not enjoy himself at all. What was the better option..?

"Nice!" Cyra exclaimed, catching the ball. "You don't seem so bad, you've scored two out of the two times I've seen you shoot so far." She tried the ball against the ground, suddenly all focused. A new ball and a new net meant that she had to adjust her technique, if only slightly. She jumped and used her left hand for guiding while she used the right one for force. When she landed so did the ball, bouncing on the basket, rolling around it for a second, and then into the net. Close call.

"Wow, I'm really rusty!" She laughed. She jogged towards the ball, catched it in the middle of a bounce and threw it to Matt. For the next one I'll need a little more height and power. Should I add it in the throw or the jump? She thought to herself. She were enjoying herself alot, it was about two years since she played basketball with someone else. She only hoped Matt were too, because he didn't look all too happy about this.

"Thanks," he said, watching her. He had mastered the ability to calculate a perfect shot when standing still, but when it came to running and jumping and all the crap.. Gawd, he didn't even want to think about it. It was hard enough doing it!

His arms got sore from doing casual throws, though, thanks to the strain. Next time I'll have to do a jump. he thought.

"Good job," he commented as his hand slapped against the ball, pushing it into an even dribble. That must've been her first shot in WHA, which meant that, damn, she was good.

He paused, staring at the rim of the basket, a faint blur of red in his eye. He knew that it was actually a bit off from what he saw, but did he have any choice in that? Angle it a bit toward the left.. he thought as he began starting run. He jumped, tossing the ball--and cursed. Loudly.

The ball bounced off the rim, like it had done the last time he tried to shoot while jumping--and smacked him right on the forehead. He caught it as the ball rebounded off of him, rubbing his forehead.

"Um.. My bad."

Cyra analyzed Matt's technique when he readied himself with a smile. It was always fun to play with rookies, because unlike those good at the sport they played to have just that. Fun. She saw him starting to run, then he threw the ball. She was guessing by the angle of the ball that it wouldn't score. She- Oh no!

She ran toward Matt with a troubled look on her face. "Are you alright?" She said, moving her hand to get his hair out of the way so she could see his forehead. She wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt himself.

"Ah, I'm fine," he stammered, embarrassed as she started to check his injury. Dammit, he cursed himself mentally for always make others fuss about him. He slips, he falls, and ends up getting so worn out that he has to go to the nurse. Attracts bullies, beats the bully, goes to the nurse--ends up having a complete stranger guess what happened. And now--

It took him around five seconds to realize that she had completely moved the hair around his forehead--and his eye, too. His body stiffened to a statue, the ball dropping to the floor.

A fraction of a second later he just about slapped away her hand, his other hand covering his eye as he took a step back, looking at her with an expression that simply couldn't be put into words.

[[Sorry for the last sentence. It's 1:26 in the morning as I post this--I really can't put it into words LOL]]

She was startled when Matt made his sudden movement. She held her hand as if she'd hurt it, even though he hadn't used much force. A thousand thoughts swirled around in her head, trying to explain the last few seconds. The bruise from the ball hadn't been to bad, but she wasn't prepared to find scars under his hair. Apparently, Matt hadn't really been prepared for it either. It seemed as if he tried his best to hide it, but she couldn't figure out why. It was one thing to cover it up.

"I- Sorry!" She almost shouted, clenching her fists together in front of her mouth, tears in her eyes. Instinctively she took a step back. She didn't want Matt to be mad at her. Why do you always act without thinking?Stupid, stupid, STUPID Cyra, she thought, hammering herself mentally.

'Matt' hated his eye. He hated it with a passion. He hated going to the doctors to have them check on it, hated watching new nurses recoil that the sight of it. He hated having to rush to his dorm and lock the door only to put some prescribed eyedrops into it. He hated those times when he was studying and his hand would involuntarily go up to his blind eye, feeling those rigid scars. He hated how his eye came from his mother, as if that was the best physical memory he had of her. He hated the mistakes he made from it, he hated how helpless he was from it. He hated how it was white instead of brown, how it didn't do a damn thing, and how others reacted to it. He hated it, he hated it, HE HATED IT!

So why didn't Cyra react?

Why wasn't she screaming or turning deathly pale or simply running out of the gymnasium?

Why the hell was she saying sorry?

He stared at her. She was having the same reaction that she had when he asked her to move away a bit because she had been invading his personal space. Frightened, scared that she was about to lose a friend. He looked away.

"No.. I..." He played around with his words for a moment, a loss at what to say, then looked at her. His expression was strangely calm, though he still kept his palm pressed tightly against his right eye, so tightly that it would've hurt for someone else. "How much did you see?"

Cyra just stood there with her eyes closed, pressing her clenched hands against the ridge of her nose. She just knew that Matt was going to stop seeing her now. He had told her not to burst his personal bubble before, and she'd done it again. Worse, she now understood why he wouldn't want her close.

"How much did you see?" She looked up. She had to wipe her eyes to see him clearly. He was... calm? "M-Most of it, I think." She stuttered. She hugged herself. "look, I didn't know, I-" She stopped. What a stupid thing to say. She sighed and looked at her feet. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. Not even if you decide to stop seeing me. I won't"

'Matt' sucked in a long draught of air and sighed it out at her answer. Most of it, huh?

Truthfully he didn't really know how to respond to her reaction. He expected Cyra not wanting to be friends with him, not the other way around (that is, that's what she's assuming).

".. I can trust you on that, then," he said stiffly, releasing his eye. It was closed, the scars again visible for a second before he hid it with a curtain of his hair.

The junior then smiled wryly, surprising himself. "I guess you now know why my eyesight is so bad now, huh?"

Still sniffing, she nodded slowly. She was slow, but she could put two and two together in this case. She wondered if she would ask him about it. She had never been too curious about Matt, well, not openly. But this was different. Now she had stumbled upon one of his secrets, and so many question marks remained. Would she be able to look at him without wondering how he got the scar? No, he'll tell me if he want to. I'll better reach out to show him that I'm here though.

She looked away, blushing slightly. There were no good, no non-suspicious way to say this. "If you want someone to talk to, I'm here." She said. She hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way, or even worse, feel forced to tell her.

She was curious, he could tell. Who wouldn't be?

Not telling her would just make her look at him differently. Telling her would make her look at him much, much more differently. But Cyra was different too.

".. Talking always does feel better," he said, which was true. He had only told two people exactly what had happened, those two being his dad and Takashi. Well, then again, there was no way he be with them if they didn't know what happened. Well...

"Not here. Anyone can walk in," he said, remembering how Cyra had entered the gym without him knowing. "Let's go to my dorm."

He was already walking away at the last sentence. He was trying his best to not act cold, but he was preparing himself in case she had a normal, human reaction of rejecting his face.

She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. It was hard to talk, it always was when she was afraid, and now she was afraid she would lose him. She followed him a short distance behind him, careful not to go into his personal space. Why step on more toes? She was quiet the whole way to his dorm. She didn't know what signals she sent by doing so, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

~~~[Thread continues in Matt's dorm.]~~~