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He stands in front of the small building. Kick, it says in big, curly letters.
Kiyoshi told him about the job, that their last barista quit and he promised Hyuuga -whoever that might be- that he’d find a suitable replacement as soon as possible. So here he is.
He straightens his shoulders and a small bell tinkles when he pushes the door open.
“Kuroko-kun!” Kiyoshi, clad in a black shirt and apron, opens his arms in a welcome. Kuroko smiles. He has known Kiyoshi since forever, since their grandparents befriended each other. The tall guy is practically a brother to him, such a fixed part of his life now that he can’t imagine his life without him.
He smiles. “Kiyoshi-nii-san.”
A young man with dark hair and glasses walks up to him. He, too, is dressed in a black apron, but he’s wearing a white shirt. “You must be Kuroko-kun. My name is Hyuuga Junpei.”
Kuroko shakes the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Hyuuga-san.”
Hyuuga smiles at him and then retrieves a crumpled sheet of paper out of his pocket. “So, your resume mentioned no earlier experience,” Kuroko turns his face away, but Hyuuga’s smile doesn’t budge.
“Kiyoshi has offered to train you though, so that won’t be a problem.” He sighs. “Too bad you’re not the only new employee.” He pushes his glasses further up his nose. “The other new guy will be joining you. His name is Kagami.”
Kuroko nods and receives an apron from a short-haired brunette. She introduces herself as Aida Riko, the owner’s daughter. “Hyuuga might be the manager,” she says with a dangerous twinkle in her eyes, “but you still listen to me. Call me Riko, by the way. My father is the Aida-san here.”
Kagami arrives at one-thirty, in a hurricane of red hair and squeaking sneakers. He’s huge and when Riko rifles through the cabinets for one of Kiyoshi’s aprons he stands there, shuffling his feet. Something in Kuroko’s chest constricts. The way Kagami tilts his head when he smiles his thanks and curiosity sparks deep in his gaze reminds him of the early days, of freshmen year and navy laughs, the smell of rubber and sweaty teenage bodies. He shakes his head, loses every thought of dark hair and throaty laughs. Steps forward.
“Hello, you must be Kagami-san.”
Kagami jumps three feet into the air. “What the f- Uh, nice to meet you?”
Kuroko holds out his hand. “I’m Kuroko.”
Kagami extends one gigantic hand and wraps the other one around the back of his neck, rubs it. “Nice to meet you. And, uh, you don’t have to call me -san.” He laughs, a little bit awkward.
It’s September. Outside, leaves are browning. The late summer light paints Kagami’s skin a hue of gold that makes something inside Kuroko flutter. He has the distinct feeling Kiyoshi is watching him.
“Right,” he says. “Kagami-kun.”
Kiyoshi shows him how to work the machine, teaches him the exact contents of a caramel latte and a black americano and how hot the soy milk should be before mixed with the coffee. Another dark-haired guy, with sharp grey eyes and an army of confusing puns about lattes this time, tells him how long the pastries are allowed to stay in the display case.
“Izuki,” he says. “Nice hair.”
“Thank you,” Kuroko replies. “I’m Kuroko.”
Hyuuga is in all states because Kagami keeps messing up the drip coffees and can’t handle the frother. When he spills chocolate syrup all over the counter, Kuroko swears he sees an actual vein pound in Riko’s forehead.
Hyuuga sighs, looks up to the sky pleadingly and puts Kagami behind the cash register. Turns out he’s really, really bad with numbers and memorizing orders. Kuroko sees Hyuuga beating bread dough in the back after four hours.
Kagami is a surprise. He’s loud and present. It’s like he throws open the door to his own insides and dares the world to take a look, chin raised defiantly the whole time. He apologizes for messing up, but smiles at Hyuuga nonetheless. There’s a fire in him that Kuroko recognizes, something bright and painful. The thing that sets him apart so much from- the other person is the desire to prove himself.
So when Kiyoshi claps him on the back, tells him his first shift is officially over, Kuroko takes off his apron and accepts Kagami’s bumbling request for lunch together. He doesn’t know why, really. Something about the red giant intrigues him; the way he’s awkward and confident at the same time, kind with a hint of sarcasm and polite with a heavy rude undertone. He’s the polar opposite of- someone else.
Kagami is a breath of fresh air after years in a crowded city.
The other one is different. Everybody falls a little bit in love with him, when you meet him for the first time, but it’s not the sweet developing crush you’d expect. It’s something heavy and oppressive, something mandatory and very unrequited. His life revolves around basketball, basketball and basketball only. Winning gives him a deep sparkle of life back and daily life sucks it from him. For him -Kuroko can’t even think his name, after all these months- living doesn’t count as living without hands curving around a basketball, without sneakers pounding and panting breaths in the air.
Kagami has a focused expression on his face when he watches Kiyoshi make a latte. He tells Kuroko that he’s studying to be a fireman and it fits, somehow he’s like fire and so unlike it. Kagami crackles and rustles through life, eats away but gives back just as easily. Izuki and he start experimenting with pastries and the first time Kuroko tastes a brownie crafted by those big hands, he has what he’s willing to call a religious experience. (Hyuuga immediately removes him from the coffee machinery and puts him in the kitchen)
Life hesitates around Kagami, wonders about the best way to energize him, the best way to light him up.
“So, what are you hobbies, Kagami-kun?” he asks over their lunch, three weeks later. It’s become something of a tradition, eating and watching Kagami talk for hours. “Besides cooking, I mean.”
Kagami swallows the last of his noodles. Wipes soup from his chin. “I used to play a lot of basketball, back in high school.” He smiles at Kuroko, unaware of the dready heaviness he just injected in his stomach. “We were very good, won a few titles, you know the drill.”
Kuroko wants to throw up. “Yes,” he says. “For what school?” He’s never played against him, he knows for sure. He’d remember someone like Kagami.
Everyone would remember someone like Kagami.
“I actually went to middle and high school in America,” Kagami says. Rubs one of those wide hands over his nape. (Kuroko is so relieved he could cry. Kagami doesn’t know. Kagami hasn’t met them. Kagami hasn’t met him) “So you probably won’t know any names.”
He takes a sip of his tea. “I played for Teiko, myself,” he says and revels in the bland disregard, the lack of recognition in Kagami’s eyes.
“Cool.” he says, playing with his noodles and Kuroko wants to kiss the ground he walks on.
They talk about basketball for a while, and every word hurts like they’re breaking open a door deep inside of him and the splinters stab in all the wrong places. He brings the subject back to pastries, and watches Kagami’s enthusiasm stay. He’s as passionate about baking as about basketball and that on itself is a whole new concept for Kuroko.
They both get used to Kick slowly. Kuroko learns the drinks of the regulars by heart and Kagami makes Riko-san weep with every new recipe. The hours are awful and his feet hurt after every shift, but still, something about the atmosphere and his colleagues makes it worth it.
His internship supervisor notices that lately, he’s been looking good. Of course the fact that she notices him at all is something to be surprised about in itself.
The kids keep him busy enough that he doesn’t really have the time to think about Kagami, but he catches himself staring off into the distance once or twice. A small hand tugs on his sleeve. “Kuro-sensei,” big brown eyes look up. “Are you okay?”
He ruffles his hand through brown hair. “Of course. Now what do you say we go fold some flowers, yes?”
Throughout that day, while the children swarm around him like excited bees, his chest throbs with sunlight, rolled into a compact ball.
***
“Kagami-kun.”
Kagami shoves the brownies in the oven and wipes his hands on his apron. “Yes?”
“Can you teach me how to make cookies?”
Kagami turns towards him, laughter crinkling the corner of his eyes. “Uh, what?”
“It will be Christmas soon, and I might have promised sensei that I’d bring cookies.”
Kagami smiles. Shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Today? You can make them at my place, I’ve got lots of supplies.”
Something flutters inside of him, and he doesn’t have the strength to will down a smile. Kagami’s eyes widen and one of the big hands come up to ruffle through Kuroko’s hair.
“Okay,” he says. Butts his head up briefly into the touch. “Today.”
The shift creeps by. Kiyoshi frowns when Kuroko drops coffee beans, lets the soy milk burn and gives five people a caramel latte instead of a mocha. He can hear Hyuuga yell at Kagami in the kitchen, something along the lines of ‘idiot’ and ‘how do they even let you near fire’. He snorts because somewhere in the shouting, Hyuuga might have a point.
“Everything alright?” Kiyoshi asks after the morning rush has quieted down.
Kuroko is rinsing mugs and thinking about the almond sugar cakes in the display. “You’re smiling,” he notes, and Kuroko realizes he’s been. The whole morning.
“You’re smiling and Kagami is burning cookies in the back.” Kiyoshi tilts his head. It looks weird, such a curious expression on his large frame, but then, Teppei has always been actively contradicting people’s expectations. “What’s going on?”
“Kagami-kun and I are going to bake cookies after our shift,” Kuroko says. He rinses another mug and picks at a piece of dried caramel syrup on the rim.
Kiyoshi makes a sound. “Like, a date?”
Kuroko drops the mug. The water splatters and wets his arms. “No.”
“You’re sure?” Kiyoshi asks, raised eyebrows judging him. “He seems to think it is. Explains the burned chocolate chips.”
The next bursts of customers save him from answering and between the espressos and macchiatos, Kuroko feels light and breezy. A date. With Kagami.
He spills a bottle of caramel syrup and Riko-san marches over to him. “Time for your break,” she orders while tying an apron around her waist.
Kuroko stares at her.
Riko is really good at managing. She is a fantastic bookkeeper and has the best ideas for themes and discount actions. She’s fun to be around with and always manages to make either Kiyoshi or Hyuuga blush scarlet. She’s just not allowed to touch the coffee machines. Kuroko believes Kiyoshi when he told them one exploded, back in the beginning.
Hyuuga plucks the apron from her hands. “Yes, time for your break.”
Kuroko sighs, relieved, and walks to the kitchen. Kagami has his hands buried in some kind of batter and blinks at him. “Uh, hi.”
“Hello,” Kuroko says. They stare at each other.
“Is there something I can eat, or will I have to buy something?”
Kagami nods towards a tray of blackened cookies. “I think some of those might still be edible.”
Kuroko takes one, bites it and almost chokes.
“Or not,” Kagami says.
“If Kagami-kun is this bad at baking cookies, perhaps I should ask someone else to teach me how to bake them.” Kagami’s eyes widen. Kuroko nibbles on the cookie, eyes fixed on his face.
“Shut up,” he grumbles. Kuroko almost smiles and goes back to the front for some tea.
Izuki corners him on the way to the cake display. “Izuki-san,” Kuroko says.
The older barista stares at him and hands him an almond sugar cake. “You’re smiling,” his grey eyes squint and Kuroko stares back with raised eyebrows.
“Kuroko-kun here has a date with our Kagami,” Kiyoshi says from behind the espresso machine and Kuroko hopes his eyes are as accusing as he wishes them to be.
Izuki crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares at him with sharp eyes. Behind them, Kagami curses loudly. All three of them turn towards the kitchen and see a furious Hyuuga shoving Kagami out of the kitchen. Kiyoshi catches him.
“I don’t care what you were planning on making. Don’t let me see you here again today,” their manager says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Izuki laughs, and Kiyoshi pushes Kagami away. He plucks the almond sugar cake from Kuroko’s hand.
“C’mon, you too.” Kuroko stares at him, and Kiyoshi smiles. “It’s not like he will get anything done without Kagami-kun around,” he says as an answer on Hyuuga’s frown.
Kuroko catches his jacket from a sheepishly grinning Kagami and they walk out of the cafe together, their fingers brushing every now and then.
The cookies turn out to be the best Kuroko has ever eaten in his life.
***
Ten days after the baking session at Kagami’s, Kuroko is ordering bottles of syrup behind the counter. It’s a slow day. The fairy lights Riko-san bought to get the cafe in the holiday spirit glitter quietly in the background. Even for December the day has been cold, barely creeping by. When Kuroko sighs and puts away the clipboard, Kise walks in.
The world stops spinning, just for a moment, and Kuroko is harshly transported back to high school. Back to bumping feet under lunch tables, back to rubber and sneakers squeaking on a filthy floor, back to navy hair under his fingers and a smile that made something uncoil in his chest.
Behind two lungs, something constricts, implodes perhaps. Kise is staring at him. There’s a smaller, dark haired boy next to him frowning his prominent eyebrows. Then that blond head turns around, his expensive shoes silent in their support, and sprints out of the cafe. Kuroko does the only thing that makes sense right now. He rips off his apron and follows him.
He finds him in front of a H&M with his hands in his pockets.
“Kise-kun,” he says and somehow tries to convey six months of missing in those two words. The look in Kise’s eyes hurts more than anticipated. He looks so much like the confused, bored boy who joined their team back in freshman year Kuroko can’t help but return the inevitable hug. Kise smells like overpriced cologne and there’s something sharp digging in his back -a camera, he discovers later, isn’t that a surprise- but he couldn’t care less.
His colleagues try their best to include them and Kagami is something else all in itself, but he can’t deny the fact that he’s been so lonely this past months. He’s tired of trying to figure everyone out, of learning the habits and tics of so many new people. Kise, from where his arms tighten around his shoulders. is familiar and soothing. Like a balm on a wound that has been bleeding for a long time.
“I missed you,” Kise says and Kuroko can feel his mouth moving against his hair. “I missed you, Kurokocchi.”
Kuroko pries Kise’s hands off him. “I missed you too, Kise-kun.” Kise just holds his arms out again, tears streaming over his cheeks and Kuroko indulges him. Just for a little while. Kise was the one that took their parting the hardest, anyway.
“Kise-kun,” he mumbles. “We need to get back to the cafe. My shift isn’t over yet.”
They get back. Kuroko picks his apron off the ground and starts making him a latte. Kise sits at the counter and they watch each other in silence.
A door slams behind them and Kiyoshi walks in, his hands full of Christmas ornaments. When he spots Kise, he freezes. His eyebrows knit together. “Kise-kun?”
“Kiyoshi-san?” They’re gaping at each other and Kuroko feels slightly uncomfortable until something breaks in Kiyoshi’s expression.
“Took you long enough,” he says and dumps the ornaments on the nearest table. Hyuuga and Riko look at him in a way that probably means ‘explain later’ and Kuroko shakes his head, finishing Kise’s latte.
Kise leaves in a flurry of limbs and exclamations about “Kasamatsu-sempai”, whoever that might be. He leaves his number on a coaster. Kiyoshi hands it to Kuroko, his face carefully blank. “Are you going to text him?”
Kuroko stares down at the cardboard in his hand. Thinks about how easy it was, seeing Kise.
“Yes,” he says. “I will.”
***
Kagami notices Kise is something special right from the start. Kuroko can see it in the way he hovers in the front, every time he’s around. In the way his face tenses when his name comes up in conversations. In the way he’s aggressively baking some kind of chocolate-pistachio cookie in the back right now.
“Kagami-kun, the shift is over.”
Kagami shoves the last tray in the oven. “I’ll be right there.” Lately they’ve been getting dinner together, after shifts. Kuroko fidgets with his jacket and inhales deeply.
“Ramen today?” Kagami asks and Kuroko needs to suppress the urge to sock him on the jaw. He was going to say something important, damnit.
“Sure,” he answers and curses himself for being such a coward.
After dinner, they walk to Kuroko’s apartment complex together and Kuroko can feel something fluttering around in his chest. “Kagami-kun?”
Kagami stops in the middle of his rant about how ‘finding a real burger is apparently a fucking miracle these days’, and looks down. “Yes?”
“Would you like to watch Masterchef at my place tonight?” Kuroko asks and he hopes the sunset hides his blush. Kagami blinks a few times, smiles.
“You know I can’t refuse an hour of Gordon Ramsey and good company,” he says like it doesn’t make Kuroko’s heart beat happiness inside his chest.
Kuroko finds himself pressed against Kagami’s arm later, basking in the light of the tv and the warmth of the body next to him. The arm shifts and Kuroko is ready to move away, apologize, before the arm wraps itself around his shoulders. Next to him, Kagami is still staring at the screen. He snorts, criticizes the consistency of a cake batter and his arm tightens.
Kuroko lightly rests his head against the solid presence. Kagami smells like cinnamon and coffee, with something like leather underneath. Touching him feels like burning, like small stars are forming on all the pressure points and he doesn’t want anything but build entire constellations between them. He wonders idly if Kagami would taste like iron if he kissed him right now.
He shifts next to him and Kuroko’s head slides from his shoulder to his chest. They’re still quiet, both of them, and Kagami watches avidly how Gordon Ramsay flips out on a group of unsuspecting contestants. He can feel himself drifting, but he can’t really help it. Kagami is so warm and comfortable.
“Kuroko?”
He opens his eyes. There’s some kind of dramatic soap opera flickering on the screen of the tv and he feels safe here locked in Kagami’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he says and removes himself from Kagami’s body.
The big guy just smiles and broad hands hoist him up. “Up you go. Time for bed.”
He slings an arm around Kuroko’s waist and drags him to the bedroom. He drops him on the blue comforter and Kuroko watches him. He pries his shoes off and wonders if it would be weird to ask if Kagami wants to stay the night, but before he can say something, Kagami’s hand finds his hair. He ruffles through it.
“Do you have a shift tomorrow?” he asks. Kuroko shakes his head. “No, I have kindergarten. Maybe I’ll drop by, see if Kagami-kun has made anything nice.”
“Everything I make is nice, asshole,” Kagami grumbles, but it packs no heat. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow,” Kuroko echoes, and lets himself fall onto the mattress. His dreams are filled with warmth.
***
Almost two months later, another small dark haired man, this time with amused blue eyes, drags a reluctant Midorima Shintarou in behind him.
Kuroko watches Hyuuga demonstrating how to make a latte with multiple shots and a foam figurine and Kise’s feet dangle over the yellow armchair he’s made himself at home in. He’s texting, probably Kasamatsu, and smiling. The green-haired shooting guard looks out of place between Kick’s mismatched chairs and scratched tabletops. He sits down on a forest green bistro chair and his dark haired companion follows, although with less grace.
Kuroko’s eyes flash to the hand he places on Midorima’s knee and starts on an americano. He hopes the preference hasn’t changed over the years. Midorima doesn’t look like the type, too much a creature of habit. He wonders what’s the Oha Asa ranking for Cancer today. He doesn’t see an obvious lucky item.
“I’m gonna get a latte and catch up on my reading. Behave, Shin-chan. I’ll be over there.” the dark haired man says and Kuroko almost spills the americano because “Shin-chan”?
He remembers a slight twitch of a green eye when Akashi-kun had called Midorima by his given name for the first time. He places the americano on the counter and starts on his own latte. How much has Midorima-kun changed in six months?
“I don’t see why you need to remind me of that fact, Takao. Since I can see you perfectly fine from here.” Midorima snaps and Kuroko suppresses the urge to sigh. Not much, apparently.
But the boy, Takao, seems unfazed and just clicks his tongue in disapproval. “This is just Shin-chan’s tsundere way of admitting he is, indeed, nervous and appreciates my support?” Midorima rolls his eyes, but Kuroko finds a suspicious expression on his face that could even be called happiness. If you’d squint.
“Go get me an americano.”
“No need, Midorima-kun.” he says and reaches over a grinning Takao to hand Midorima the mug with the americano.
“Thank you,” he says. His words are tentative and his eyes show all kinds of apprehension. “You’re welcome.” Kuroko says and hopes it sounds reassuring. He smiles and wraps his hands around his mug. Watches how Midorima glances at Takao, who is talking to Izuki, and then back at them.
Kise clears his throat. “What are you majoring in, Midorimacchi?”
“Medicine.” Midorima says. He plucks at the fraying tape on his left hand.
Kuroko makes an interested sound. Remembers a younger Midorima, wider green eyes, talking about biology and genetics and organs. “Do you want to be a doctor, Midorima-kun?”
Midorima nods. Kuroko wants to smile. Doctor Midorima. He’d be brilliant and with Takao’s help his bedside manner, the only reason a sane person would never hire Midorima, wouldn’t be a problem anymore.
“And you two?” Midorima asks and Kuroko is surprised to see he’s actually interested.
“Photography.” Kise said. “Once I discovered the other side of the camera, I just had a feeling that was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
Kuroko stares at him, at how happy he is when he says it, how strong he seems, how confident. Something inside him warms. He’s glad Kise has found something to be passionate about in life, besides basketball.
“I have an internship at a kindergarten,” he says and takes a sip from his coffee. He needs the internship before he even begins studying, something about experience, he doesn’t mind really.
Outside, the watery March sun has decided to show his face and gives the afternoon a distinct soft golden hue. Kise grabs his phone and shows an impressive display of photography talent (leave it to Kise to be brilliant at everything he tries, Kuroko thinks wryly) and he himself tells some stories about toy helicopter adventures and baking apple pies with heaps of kindergarteners.
Midorima switches to tea, Kise drinks three berry smoothies and Kuroko nibbles on Kagami’s famous poppy seed muffins. It’s nice, a couple of hours with people he knows and who know him. Time ticks by in a slow, satisfied pace.
“Jesus, is it this late already?” Kise grabs his watch and hurriedly pushes his camera in his bag. “I promised Kasamatsu-senpai I would look over some layouts with him.” In the middle of pulling on his jacket, he freezes and turns to Midorima.
Kuroko inhales, suddenly nervous.
“Same time next week?” he asks and cocks his head, as full with anticipation as Kuroko is.
Midorima rolls his eyes. “Just give me your phone number and I’ll contact you, ” he says and a knot in Kuroko’s chest uncoils.
Kise smiles, one of his patented, blinding things. “Alright, Midorimacchi! I knew you’d come around.”
Kuroko stands up and puts a hand on Midorima’s shoulder. “It was nice to see you again, Midorima-kun.” He looks up in sharp green eyes.
“Yes,” Midorima says, sounding a bit dazed. “Yes, it was.”
Later, after Kagami’s shift has ended and the initial giddiness of getting his friends back has worn off, he finds himself on Kagami’s couch. They’re eating European noodles with tomato sauce and he is struggling to hold the fork properly. Kagami’s eyes are staring at him over basil and chicken.
“So, your friends,” he starts. “From high school, right?”
Kuroko chews on the pasta and nods. He expects a million questions, why they’re so awkward around each other, why is Midorima such an asshole, why do they act like they haven’t seen each other in years.
Kagami just twirls the spaghetti around his fork and smiles. “Must’ve been awesome to see them again.”
***
Meeting with Midorima and Kise becomes something of a weekly thing, so much that Kagami already has a plate of their favourite snacks (red bean bread for Midorima, a secret-cheat-day-double-chocolate muffin for Kise and a Napoleon for Kuroko) ready and Hyuuga makes sure there’s an americano and a caramel latte with a shot of vanilla ready for them. Kise is still as annoying as he used to be and Midorima is still an asshole, but they gossip about Aomine (who’s been MIA since high school) and Akashi (who’s been studying Economics and preparing for taking over the family business, something that surprises neither of them).
They’re pouring over Momoi’s instagram, spotting a lazing Aomine in the background every now-and-then, when the silver bell tinkles. A young man with a black, side-swept fringe enters and behind him trails a familiar purple-haired giant.
“Murasakibara?” Midorima frowns and pushes his glasses further up his nose.
From nowhere comes Takao’s hand and smacks him. “Shin-chan, be nice!”
Murasakibara is munching on a candy bar. “Mido-chin, Kuro-chin, Kise-chin.” He nods at them.
Kise’s mouth is wide open. “What are you doing here?”
Murasakibara swallows. “Muro-chin and I are back in Japan. It was his idea to come here.” He points towards the black-haired boy.
Kuroko squints his eyes. The boy waves. “Himuro Tatsuya. I heard Kagami worked here?”
Hyuuga rolls his eyes from behind the counter. “A fact I cry over every day. Kagami!”
A frazzled Kagami appears. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and a dish towel casually thrown over his shoulder. When he sees the boy standing in front of the counter, his face sorts into some kind of dark disbelief.
“Tatsuya?”
“Well, well, well, Taiga. It’s really been too long,” Tatsuya says and walks up to Kagami. Their red-haired baker looks frozen in place. The counter is the only thing that’s separating them, now and everyone takes three steps back. Kuroko is torn between wanting to save Kagami from what looks like a very painful confrontation and watching with interest.
“When did you come back?” Kagami asks and his voice is almost accusing, almost disappointed, almost angry.
The guy, Himuro, shrugs. “Atsushi wanted to learn about Japanese pastries.”
At that point, Kuroko decides he doesn’t like Himuro very much. Why does he call Murasakibara by his first name, anyways? And why does Kagami look like someone told him his apartment burned down? Kuroko doesn’t like people with that kind of influence, the ones who can push buttons on other people’s emotions like that. People like Akashi.
“I also came to return this.”
In Himuro’s hand lies a familiar-looking silver ring on a simple chain.
There’s a sound coming from Kagami’s throat, raw and painful. The look on his face is so unfamiliar it takes Kuroko a while to recognize it as one of heartbreak.
“Tatsuya-”
Himuro puts the ring on the counter. “It’s okay. I understand this is difficult for you.”
Kagami repeats the lost sound and Kuroko wants to break a chair over that slick, pretty-boy face. Red eyes flicker to the ring and back at Himuro’s cold expression and before anyone realises what he’s doing, Kagami has already left the shop.
“What the fuck.” Hyuuga says, voice icely dangerous. “Is your deal with our Kagami?”
Riko and Kiyoshi are standing behind him, two lieutenants at his shoulder ready for a fight.
In his turn, Murasakibara puts a hand on Himuro’s shoulder. “Don’t talk to Muro-chin that way.”
Kuroko is impressed with how fired up he seems. He’d never thought he’d see the day in which Murasakibara had real friends, instead of just people he’d willingly put up with. Something in the way Himuro smiles is heavy-hearted and Kuroko would almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
“It’s okay, Atsushi.” He takes a deep breath. “Taiga and I, it’s- complicated. I guess you could call me his brother.”
“You look nothing like Kagamicchi,” Kise says, frowning. “Stop spouting bullshit.”
It warms Kuroko that Kise seems to respect Kagami, respect him so much to stand up for him against this complete stranger. Maybe that university is doing more for the blond than he’d expected, though Kasamatsu might be at least seventy percent of that something. When he looks at their table, Midorima is standing up and it looks like Takao’s hand on his shoulder might be the only thing that is stopping him from joining in on the conversation. He doesn’t know if it’s an accurate prediction, but he guesses that Takao might be to Midorima what Kasamatsu is to Kise.
“I’m going after him,” he says and Hyuuga nods. He places his apron on the counter and avoids looking at Himuro. Takao nods at him, too, and for a moment Kuroko is pleased that Midorima’s new friend seems to accept and approve of him. Then his thoughts are back on Kagami.
He first walks through the block surrounding the cafe and then goes to search the neighbourhood around Kagami’s apartment. Kuroko finds him furiously shooting hoops on an abandoned street court. He watches for a few minutes -Kagami doesn’t miss once- before stepping forward.
“Kagami-kun.”
Kagami drops the ball. “Jesus Kuroko, give a guy a warning before sneaking up on them.”
“Then it wouldn’t be called ‘sneaking up’ anymore,” Kuroko says. “Is Kagami-kun hungry? It’s my treat.”
They go to an all-you-can-eat sushi place because Kuroko has only limited funds and when Kagami has a plate in front of him that could feed an orphanage for weeks, he starts to talk.
“There’s two things I’m good at,” he says in between bites. “Cooking and basketball.”
(Kuroko wants to argue that there’s so much more to Kagami, kindness and acceptance and a terrifying sort of instinct for doing things that comfort others, but Kagami is finally talking so he just listens. It’s what he’s best at, anyways.)
Kagami swallows. “There’s two things, out of many, that Tatsuya is really good at: Cooking and basketball.”
It annoys Kuroko that Himuro is on first name basis with Kagami, but he feels this is an important conversation and just raises an eyebrow, urging him to go on with his story.
“Back when I was a sad, lonely kid in the States, Tatsuya sort of adopted me,” Kagami chuckles at that, one big hand rubbing his nape. “Taught me things to help me feel more at home. Cooking was a huge part of that. I was better at basketball than him, but he always insisted that was because of my size and we’d always laugh it away. But cooking-”
He turns his face. “Cooking was different. He’s trained himself, with cooking videos and Jamie Oliver books. We used to watch Food Network together and try to copy the famous cooks.”
He inhales and something in his posture changes, like a signpost in a piece of literature. “When we were sixteen, we both got a job in the kitchen of a restaurant. The owner, he- I don’t know, I guess he thought I was good, so he promoted me. Himuro got angry. He’s my big brother, you know?”
He turns back to look at Kuroko and there’s so much pain in his eyes and Kuroko, Kuroko understands. Something about Kagami’s story reminds him of the day his brutal third-string evening practices got joined by someone else. Remind him of dribbling around cones and a loud “Tetsu!” whenever he’d walk home alone. But most of all, it reminds him of a fistbump that still burns behind his eyelids.
“He gave me an ultimatum,” Kagami continues. “Either he was going to be promoted or our friendship would be over. He couldn’t very well be my big brother when I was better at cooking than him, better at the one thing he loved the most?” The laugh that follows this is hollow and makes Kuroko shiver.
“I got a spot as part-time apprentice of the pastry chef and Tatsuya-” He swallows. “Anyway, I left America before we had a chance to talk about it. Well, it’s obvious what he thinks.”
Kuroko wants to go back to Kick and rip the bones from Himuro Tatsuya’s body.
Instead he reaches a hand over the table and places it on top of Kagami. “Kagami-kun. Let’s go watch a movie at my place.”
Red eyes look up at him. “Kuroko.”
He smiles. “Come on, Kagami-kun. Let me take care of you, for once.”
***
The following week, everyone is extra careful around Kagami. Hyuuga and Riko don’t yell at him when he burns things and Kiyoshi makes sure to ruffle his hair every time he drops by in the kitchen, which seems to be fairly often.
Something has changed between him and Kagami, too. The way they smile at each other is different, softer somehow, and their touches have a whole range of meanings beneath the surface. It makes Kuroko’s heart flutter and glow.
However, Kagami’s face seems to have adopted a permanent sad expression. His smiles, his bickering with Midorima, his glances at Kuroko, everything is tinted with a heavy sort of heartbreak. He wants to hunt Himuro down, shake his shoulders and yell: “Look what you did to him! He was fine, he was happy, he was loved and you came here and fucked it all up, just with your stupid face and that goddamn ring.”
The bell chimes and Kise and Midorima step inside, Takao on their heels. The dark-haired man immediately runs to Izuki and they whisper furiously. Kuroko hopes they’re not exchanging puns. Izuki-senpai is bad enough as it is.
Izuki marches to Hyuuga and they start whispering as well. Definitely no puns, then. Hyuuga seems to be disagreeing, but eventually Izuki must convince him because he sighs.
“Kagami, Kuroko, you can go home.”
Kuroko frowns. “But, Hyuuga-senpai, my shift isn’t over for another hour.”
Hyuuga huffs. “You’re off early. Kagami has an appointment, anyways.”
“What?” Kagami whips his head around the door of the kitchen. “With who?” Kuroko stares at the chocolate stain on his chin, fondness welling up.
“Himuro.” Takao says and something inside Kuroko’s chest tightens so fast it steals his breath away.
“No.” he says.
Takao and Izuki both look at him. “They need to make up, Kuroko.” Izuki says.
“No.” Kuroko repeats. “I will not see Kagami-kun hurt like that, again.” He doesn’t know what his face looks like, but everybody is quiet after that.
Kagami steps out of the kitchen. His hand lands on Kuroko’s shoulder and their eyes meet. “I’ll be fine.” he says and there’s a whole new sort of calmness around him. “We both need to talk about this, or it will keep bothering me for the rest of my life.”
A tall figure in a white and light-blue uniform flashes before his eyes and Kuroko raises his chin, defiantly. “He will only hurt you more. Think about this, Kagami-kun. Please.”
Kise steps forward. “Kurokocchi, Midorimacchi and I want to talk to you.”
Kuroko doesn’t take his eyes off Kagami. “Not now, Kise-kun.” He inhales. “Please.” he says for a second time.
Kagami tilts his head to the side and keeps staring.
A hand closes around his arm. “Yes, now, Kurokocchi,” Kise says and drags him out of the cafe, Midorima on his heels.
“What the hell was that for, Kise-kun?” Kuroko asks, rubbing over his arm. He can feel the anger rising. Both his high-school friends are not impressed by the usually so out of character display of emotion.
Kise squints at him. “Has it occurred to you that Himuro might not be the same as Aominecchi?”
His chest breaks into a thousand pieces and the very stable illusion of control he’s mastered over the past few months falls to the ground. Hearing his name like that, out loud, drags up all sorts of nasty feelings he had buried good and deep inside.
Oblivious like usually, Kise goes on. “Aominecchi was an asshole, yes, but that doesn’t mean that humanity as a whole is fucked up like that.” Somehow Kuroko has a feeling these are not his own words.
“Kise is right,” Midorima says and he can feel all the anger leaving his body because he didn’t expect that. Judging by Kise’s expression, he didn’t either. “Just because Teiko was like it was doesn’t mean the outside world functions that way,” he says and pushes his glasses up further up his nose. With him, too, Kuroko gets the feeling he’s quoting someone.
“Please don’t go around expecting people to act like let’s say, Akashi or Aomine. It’s not healthy and quite counterproductive for your happiness.” He smiles. “Something we all hope you’ll achieve.”
Kuroko has no words for this and just gapes at the two men in front of him. Eventually, he closes his mouth. Straightens his shoulders.
“Okay,” he says. “I better apologize to Kagami-kun, then.”
Kise grins. “Atta boy! That’s our Kurokocchi.”
The three of them step back inside and every head turns their way. “Kagami-kun.”
Red eyes find his and he feels a wave of shame flooding him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way.”
Kagami laughs and the knot around Kuroko’s heart loosens. “It’s alright, man. I know you mean it well.”
Izuki claps in his hands. “Alright then,” he says. “I believe Kagami here has an important appointment. Takao will provide the necessary entertainment for our blue-haired friend.” Kuroko frowns. “Entertainment?”
Takao slings an arm over his shoulder (he can feel Midorima’s eyes burning holes in the side of his head) and smiles. “You can’t expect Kagami here to have all the fun, do you? Besides, we have to make sure you won’t follow him and kill Himuro or something.”
There’s a glint in his eyes that means he knows it’s a quite realistic point of concern. Kuroko is surprised. Well then.
“Okay,” he says.
“Alright!” Takao cheers. “Time to own the city.”
In the end, they all go and see a movie. Midorima and Kise argue all the way through it, while Kuroko shares popcorn with Takao and listens to his small observations, occasionally remarking something as well.
When he drops by Kagami’s place that evening, he finds Himuro and him on their stomachs on the rug. They’re playing some kind of violent shooting-game, yelling at each other over brightly-coloured sodas and triangular-shaped chips with weird sauce on top. Kuroko smiles and sits down on the couch.
He tries to ignore the sharp jab to the chest. Is he jealous of Kagami, or jealous of Himuro-and-Kagami? He doesn’t want to delve too deep into that thought. It reminds him of navy hair and a heavy, tan arm around his shoulder.
He watches Kagami punching Himuro on the shoulder because of a particular effective headshot and thinks.
***
Kuroko is knee-deep into finger paint and sparkles when he realises he’s in love with Kagami.
A small hand tugs on his sleeve. “Kuro-sensei, are you okay?”
He shakes his head. “Yes, yes of course. Now let me see the dragonfly princess you painted.”
When he’s washed off the glitter and glue residue of the day, he marches to Kick. It’s a sunny day, May finally breaking through any traces of winter April tends to hold onto, and Kuroko can’t think of anything except gentle red giants. When he crosses the doorstep, Kiyoshi is behind the counter, laughing about something Hyuuga’s said.
Kuroko feels his stomach contract and inhales, deep. Kiyoshi smiles when he spots him. “Kuroko-kun. What a surprise.”
“Can we talk?” Kuroko asks and immediately, a frown cleaves Kiyoshi’s forehead.
“Of course,” he says. “Is there a problem?” He whips up a vanilla latte for Kuroko, lightening-fast, and they sit at a window table, as far removed from the counter as possible. Hyuuga and Riko are staring at them.
“It’s about Kagami.”
Something in Kiyoshi’s expression flickers, a faint amusement that seeps through his mask of seriousness. “What about Kagami?”
Kuroko takes a sip of his coffee. Thinks and tries to avoid the pressure-kindness of Kiyoshi-niisan’s brown eyes. Kagami sprints through his mind, all easy smiles and broad hands. He takes a deep breath.
“I think I like Kagami-kun.”
Kiyoshi tilts his head back and laughs. For a staggering couple of minutes Kuroko thinks he’s being laughed at but then Kiyoshi shakes his head.
“Yes, we know. Are you finally going to do something about it?”
Kuroko is nailed to his chair. Kiyoshi, who is the brother his parents never gave him (his grandparents did instead), knows. Judging by the look on his face, he approves, too.
“How did you do it?” he asks. “With Riko and Hyuuga?”
Kiyoshi wipes away tears of laughter and thinks. “Well, I was Riko’s ex to begin with. That certainly helped. We reconnected but it just felt like something was missing. That something being our mutual best friend who buzzed around us like some kind of heartbroken grumpy fly.”
His warm expression changes and he frowns a little bit. “Being with the people you love is the easiest thing in the world, Tetsuya,” he says and when he calls Kuroko by his first name, he means business. “Teiko fucked you, all of you, up and it’s been so good these couple of months, seeing you smile again.”
Kuroko stares at his vanilla latte. “But, Himuro.”
“Yes,” Kiyoshi agrees. “Himuro.” They’re both quiet for a while. Kuroko finishes his coffee.
“Himuro is not Aomine,” Kiyoshi tells him eventually and Kuroko can’t help it. He gasps a little bit, a sharp inhale, and the name hangs between them.
It’s the second time someone tells him this but he can’t help viewing Kagami’s pseudo-brother like a ticking bomb of betrayal.
“Are you hesitating about Kagami because you’re still hung up on that guy?”
Kiyoshi plays with his mug and avoids looking at him. Like he’s ashamed he even asked. Kuroko knows it’s a legitimate question. He knows with how he’s been acting, the avoidance and the distractions, it’s a logical conclusion.
But fuck logical and legitimate.
“What.” he says and his tone is flat and his eyes are probably expressionless because Akashi told him, on a filthy wooden floor back in his freshmen year, that showing emotion is the first sign of weakness. That his biggest strength was his lack of presence, the fact that he was literally invisible and he’s been wearing that role for so long. The lines between basketball and real life have been erased what feels like eons ago. Expressing emotions hasn’t been in his job description for so long he sometimes forgets it’s a thing now. A thing he does, too.
At Teiko, he was a conductor of light (not even a shadow, not even that, just an object used to increase the visibility of others) and Kagami is the first person in months, years, perhaps the first person in his life, that makes him want to be noticed.
The difference between him and Aomine is that Kuroko wants to take the small bulb of light beneath his ribs (it has to be there) and hold it up until it grows in Kagami’s radiance. Kagami is the sun of his own little solar system and he’s been slowly thawing away the thick igloo of invisibility Kuroko’s been hiding in his whole life.
Aomine changed from his best friend into some kind of leech, made Kuroko desperate for the scraps of affection that were thrown in his direction every once in a while. Aomine became a burden, a task that Akashi thrusted upon him. He wonders how Momoi-san does it. taking care of him. Loving him.
“No,” he says. Squares his shoulders and looks into Kiyoshi’s curious brown eyes.
“No, Aomine-kun is nothing for me. He left me and that still hurts, but I’m in love with Kagami-kun.”
Kiyoshi smiles, a small thing full of trust that warms all his shocked insides. “Well, then,” he says. “What are you waiting for?”
Kuroko stands up, his thoughts floating and hazy, shoves his chair back and sprints out of the cafe.
He runs all the way to Kagami’s apartment, which is admittedly, only a few blocks and leans against the door to catch his breath. He steels himself and presses the doorbell. Hard. When no one answers, he presses again and again and again until a frazzled Kagami appears. He’s shirtless and droplets of water skate over his broad chest. Kuroko’s mouth turns dry. He swallows. “Oh.”
“What?” Kagami snaps. “It’s you? I was in the shower, Kuroko.” He rubs a hand over his nape. “You might as well come in, I guess.”
Kuroko follows him. There are wings tattooed on Kagami’s back and they ripple with every move. They make it look like Kagami flies instead of walks, like he’s some kind of extremely grumpy guardian angel. Kuroko smiles at the thought. He can make out the individual feathers. It really is a piece of art.
Kagami walks into the bedroom. “I’m going to put something on,” he shouts. “Make yourself at home.”
Kuroko plops down on the couch. By the time Kagami emerges out of the bedroom, clad in jeans and a black t-shirt, Kuroko has worked himself up so much he’s almost shaking out of his skin.
“Are you okay?” Kagami raises an eyebrow. “You look nervous, Which, y’know, for you, is sort of a miracle.”
He sits down on the couch, too and stares at him with curious red eyes.
Kuroko inhales and turns. “Kagami-kun.”
They’re almost nose-to-nose now.
“Kuroko,” he breathes.
They stare at each other. Kagami blinks, heavy and it’s like he’s looking directly into Kuroko. Like he’s seeing every broken splinter of his personality. Kuroko can feel the heat radiating off the body in front of him and it makes sense, Kagami being warmth and kindness and everything he wants right here on this couch in an small apartment in Tokyo.
Kuroko wonders what love will taste like.
They fall on each other like storms and other inevitable things. Kagami moves one big hand over Kuroko’s nape and laughs against his lips. Kuroko feels so full of happiness he’s afraid he might burst.
“Well, that about explains it,” he says, smiling so broad his eyes crinkle up to two slivers of red.
He’s so beautiful he steals Kuroko’s breath away. So beautiful he can feel a small smile growing on his own face in response to the larger-than-life burst of joy in front of him.
He might not know what the future holds but he knows exactly whom he wants to spend it with.