#masako araki imagines

[knbmangareread]

I think most people know that Genta Takeuchi along with Masaaki Nakatani (Shutoku), Katsunori Harasawa (Tōō) and Eiji Shirogane (Rakuzan) and Kagetora Aida (Riko's dad) were all in the Japanese national team in their youth.

What is less well-known is that Takeuchi was in love with Riko's mom and had a rivalry against Kagetora to win her over. Obviously Taketora ended up marrying her. Clearly he didn't recognized Riko's name (or her face if she looks like her parents) or he probably wouldn't have disrespected his old teammate's daughter (and her team) like that.

Takeuchi also tried to woo Masako Araki (Yosen's coach) unsuccessfully (on several occasions).

Can you imagine coming from Teiko, The Strongest Basketball Team, respected and feared by everyone and going to high school, to be faced with this kind of disrespect ? Kuroko is not used to it and he does not likes it.

He is used to people disregarding him but not to people disregarding his team

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

we were worthless | masako araki x yandere!reader

for @dust-of-fandoms who asked "can I ask yandare!Reader and Masako Araki? Maybe reader is the manager of the team or someone from her past as a biker?" if you can't tell, i adored this ask.

cw: alcohol misuse, violence

She had complained about Takeuchi Genta not being able to take a hint. Araki Masako didn’t want a boyfriend, but even if she had wanted one, she certainly wasn’t interested in him. Overly cheerful prat. Not her exact words, but you could read her thoughts back then.

So you beat him up. Left him curled up on the ground with a black eye and a stomach that must have been bruised dark purple. When you told her what had happened, the next day, she laughed. Real laughs, not that subtle shaking of the shoulders that she usually did. You mimicked the way in which he had cried for help, as he bounced against the concrete, and she laughed.

That was a different Araki, back then in high school. Sure, she was never violent - certainly not like you, who revealed in the stereotype that true bikers loved fighting as much as they did their bikes - but she didn’t mind it. She always provided a sympathetic ear as you recollected a day’s victories, humming along as your wound yourself up again with the sheer adrenaline of just remembering it. Sometimes, if you’d gotten off a little worse for wear, she’d even share her strawberry parfait with you. The two of you took turns with one spoon.

High school Araki smelt of strawberry and fuel.

But, she started changing towards the end of her second year, start of her third. She’d always liked shooting a hoop, but now she was regularly skipping bike meets to practice with her school team. Word on the street was that she had some teacher she adored. The kind of fucker that made the useless kids like you and her think they were someone special. How many times did you tell her he just manipulating her, didn’t mean any of it (and that it was only you who really understood her, and shit, Araki, don’t you fucking dare to walk away from me now!), who was he to trust - who in their right mind trusted teachers?

And yet she actually listened to his nonsense.

She only met up with the gang once in the summer of her third year. It was barely even a gang at that point; most people had graduated from it to prepare for adulthood. They’d found apprenticeships, jobs, or buried themselves in the local boxing club. There were only three people, including yourself, who met up regularly, who’d sit together in an abandoned garage, dumbing themselves with alcohol. Occasionally, going out for a ride together, drunk and angry, speeding so fast that the slightest swerve would have killed you. Once, it almost did.

A foggy night. Araki hadn’t replied to your text for three days now. Driving with the lights of your motorbike off, daring a car to kill you. Your buddies behind, starting to slow as you sped up, recognising that this was real stupid - even for the three of you. A truck. The squeal of brakes. A feeling like you and your bike were falling out the sky.

Two days later was the last day Araki would meet up with the gang. None of you had been expecting her, especially not you, covered head to toe in injuries, drunk out of your mind to hide the fact that even moving your pinky hurt like hell. You wouldn’t have been drunk, had you been able to look forward to seeing her. Wouldn’t have needed the alcohol. A glimpse of her gleaming hair and sharp eyes was stronger than morphine. (But she still hadn’t texted you back at that point.)

Looking you up and down, Araki stepped into the rundown shed and, as if she had forgotten the years the two of you had spent together, said, “you’re a disgrace. You’ll be dead by the end of the year if you don’t get your act together.”

"Date me and give me something to live for then,” you cried out.

She said nothing. You grew desperate. While the other two grinned at what the toughest member of the gang became after a drink, you clung to her leg and told her you loved her, that you’d kill for her, die for her, and everything in between.

Someone laughed, “He’s drunk out of his mind, Araki.”

But Araki didn’t smile. She looked down at you, shook you off her leg, and walked away.

—

For a while, the two of you lost contact.

Well, she must have thought you lost contact - had she even spared a moment to think about you, between her new life of basketball and friendship with the types of people you’d previously mocked while she hummed in agreement. And, sure, all your messages to her no longer went through. But you lose contact with her? Any fucker could sign up to watch the national team play basketball, and you had just realised how enthralling the game could be.

How many hours did you spend watching her score three-pointers on repeat, as your mother yelled from behind the door about how it was time you went out and got a job?

How many nights did you spend riding your bike in the shadows, following the national basketball team’s van drive the players home?

How many weeks did you spend thinking only of her, till both your daydreams and nightmares were filled with nothing but the scent of strawberry parfait?

Then, one afternoon, Araki’s walking to her local convenience store, hood over her head, not trying to attract attention. She's not looking where she’s going. She bumps into someone, and their hand grabs her arm before she can even stumble.

“Araki? No way, after all this time!”



She glances up. There’s a small smile on her face. There’s a violent grin on yours.

“Long time no see,” she chuckles softly - maybe she sees the way you’re dressed to the nines, as if returning home from a high profile job, not the alcoholic she used to know. “How are you?”

Wrapping your arm around her shoulders (she doesn’t flinch; this intimacy between the two of you could never die, even after all these years), you laugh, “great. Well, great now that I’ve seen you.”

You go on to tell her how you’re an accountant now, how you listened to her advice and changed for the better, though of course you still have your bike, what a relief to know she still has hers, maybe the two of you should go out for a ride together, unless she has someone in her life who might get jealous? No? Brilliant. Free next week, Araki? You have to attend your students’ match, huh? Yosen High - never fucking heard of it. But I’m sure their basketball team’s good, if you’re coaching it. It better be.

Soon, you find yourself adding something new to the weekly routine: watching Yosen’s matches. Dressed in all black, you sit with a bottle at the very back of the stands, never observing the basketball, always staring at Araki instead. It’s amazing just how boring the sport is when she’s not the one playing it; who wants to watch a pack of teenage boys run around all sweaty for an hour? Even the championship match is tedious. Surrounded by parents and friends who are screaming their sons’ names like said kids aren’t just chucking a ball around, you sit hunched and focus your gaze on Araki.

Focus your gaze on how all her students are crowding around her, cheering and crying with the joy of victory. How those fuckers are hugging her.

(Something in you snaps; it’s an emotion you haven’t felt in quite some time, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it.)

First to leave the stands, you hide yourself in the shadows by the exit you know she’ll be taking. The minute she steps out, you’re standing in front of her, blocking her path.

“Really? You let them hug you?” you hiss.

She rolls her eyes, high like her students with happiness, too cheerful to realise that you’re not kidding. It’s disrespectful, that’s what it is, so you pin her against the wall. Hold her by the neck.

“You think this is funny do you? You’re trying to forget me again, aren’t you, bitch?” Part of you wonders why you’re hurting her, cursing her out, she who you love more than you’ve ever loved anyone - but the rest of you can think of nothing but violence, regardless of who the victim is. “You think you’re so superior now you’re on some posh school’s paycheck, huh? You’ve forgotten who you are. You were one of us, worthless trash just like me, you knew what it felt like. And how you’re going to treat me like-“

Boys, all over 6ft, come rushing out to help her, yelling at you, thinking they’re tough shit because wow they can fucking dribble, surrounding you, shoving you, and you shove back. Someone asks Araki if this weirdo hurt her; another tells you to get out of here before you get hurt. You start to cackle. Me get hurt, you’re thinking, me who was fighting in the real world while they were ‘fighting’ on the court.

One guy, sincere looking, gets real close to your face and tells you (faintly polite, but mostly firm) that you should leave. Now. Araki calls his name, warns him to back away from you - not his fight, she says.

“Let him, Masako,” you purr, “let him try. He’s a big man, aren’t you, kid?”

Your fingers curl around the handle of the knife in your pocket.

When you're done, you wonder, will Araki be laughing like she used to?

[ourneverendingpossibilities]

Salute! You have turned out such a cool post about Kirisaki as an older brother! He prompted me to this request: Can I ask headcannons Lady knb (Aida Riko, Momoi Satsuki, Arekusandora Garushia, Araki Masako) as your young sister? Thank you in advance) I Wish you health and success!)

Hi there! Of course you can!! I hope you enjoy these! And thanks for requesting the ladies of KNB! (There’s never enough for them!!) I hope you’re staying safe and well!!! :D _______

Alex: 

She was the rebel of the family, always attracted unwanted attention.

When she had to stop playing basketball due to her illness, you were there to support her in every way.. From helping her sneak out of the house to play street ball, to bandaging her up when she got into fights.

You were the one who encouraged her to take on Kagami and Himuro as her disciples, saying it would be a good way to give back when she couldn’t play.

You were her biggest fan, and always made sure she was given as much love and affection as possible.. (Sometimes she would be teased by the men. Other times she’d be beating them up for daring to make fun.)

You had to push her off when she’d constantly try to kiss you... (Some days you’d let her do it.. Because you knew she was upset...) But if she was sick, you made sure she stayed as far away from you as possible... (You didn’t want to catch her cold!)

You weren’t much of a sports person, but you at least learned about the sport enough to help when necessary... (Because you wanted to have some things in common with her, and be able to help out when she tried to take on too much.)

Masako:

Like Alex, she was a rebel growing up. Usually took manners into her own hands..

She had anger issues, and with your help, was able to enroll in a Kendo class, to learn how to control them.

Rarely cried... Always hid her emotions from everyone. But because you were her older sister, you could see through that mask.

You dealt with her attitude on a regular basis, and had to remind her to be kind and polite.. (Though when it came to men and their lack of discipline, she doesn’t hold back.)

Would always put on a brave face because she never wanted to disappoint you or bother you with her problems... After having to wrestle it out of her, she would cry for being such a pest, and you’d console her, telling her everything will be okay! (And she’s allowed to come to you with her problems.. It’s what you’re there for!)

Momoi:

She attracted EVERYONE’S attention. Whether it was male or female. And not always in a positive way.

You spent most of your time chasing away men who tried to get with her, while handling the few females that would bully her because she attracted all the males. 

When things went south at Teiko, you were there to help her through it.. Though you tried to convince her to leave Aomine alone, (because of the way he treated her.)

But she rebelled, saying it was her job to make sure Aomine didn’t get into trouble... And because of that, it was your job to look out after her... (Most of the time it involved shopping trips.)

Momoi admitted to being jealous of you because you were a different type of pretty... (In the sense people saw you for who you were, and not just because of your assets the way she’s seen a lot.) In which case, you’d tell her there’s nothing to be ashamed of.. And the right people will love her, because you’ve always known she was special..

Studying with her was always fun and challenging... (Because both of you were equally smart, and so you’d both throw in curveballs to keep each other thinking.)

Riko:

Keeping up with Riko was HARD. Even if you were the older one, she was more determined and focused with sports and training.. While you focused more on studies and having fun.

You’d both go on morning jogs together... But you never overworked yourself the way she did... And you chose to play on a team, instead of coaching one.

You’d occasionally be her guinea pig, when it came to relationships and cooking... (Though you always had the doctor on standby because she nearly killed you five different times.)

When you realized she couldn’t cook, at all... you made a compromise... You’d do more training with her, if she allowed YOU to do the cooking.. (Because it was hard for you to tell her she was terrible at it.)

She was very much a troublesome child, in the sense she didn’t open up about her feelings much... And it took a lot of your time and patience to get her to crack... But, when she did, you took her to the gym and let her beat out her frustrations on the punching bag... 

When she was a young girl, Riko always cuddled with you... Especially when she was sick.