Work Text:
DAY ONE: “Little Boxes”
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket, Canonverse
Akashi pushed his textbook away, gripping the bridge of his nose with a huff. These practice tests were going to make him lose his mind. And on top of that, his father’s incessant voice yapped away about wasting time. He rested his head on his head, trying to will away his headache with deep breaths. But everything came up to the forefront of his mind, sentences like a jumbled mess of squiggles. It was like he’d never get these practice tests right.
Ever since that last game...ever since that loss to Seirin. He’d slipped. His studies were crushing him. He was back to the reality of living with his father after finally regaining himself again. Other-Akashi was gone, but Akashi wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone.
It was morbid to think, but everything was weighing down more and more. His tired eyes dully skimmed the test sheet. The lack of patterns in the scan sheet were driving him insane. A. A. D. B. C. C. C. D. on and on and on. Akashi felt like his eyes were crossing as his mind tried to shuffle the little filled-in boxes around to make some sense of order, maybe a chessboard? Akashi groaned at the wasted effort.
His angst session halted when someone stirred the seat beside him.
“Tetsuya,” Akashi mumbled. The weight on Akashi’s shoulders lifted a little. Kuroko’s calm presence was always soothing. Well, when Akaashi actually knew Kuroko was present. To this day, the boy could still sneak up on Akashi--and certainly a frazzled Akashi.
“You look troubled, Akashi-kun.”
Akashi’s mouth twitched at Kuroko’s use of his surname. “Simply the typical university stress, Tetsuya. There is no need for concern.” Akashi didn’t need to turn to see the slight frown on Kuroko’s otherwise blank face.
A light touch to Akashi’s arm. “Akashi-kun.”
Akaashi straightened up, finally looking at Kuroko. Kuroko only had a small textbook and notebook as opposed to Akashi’s scattered ones. Kuroko’s things were open and he’d apparently been taking notes. Akashi frowned. How long has he been here?
“I’ve been here for the past thirty minutes, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko answered for him. It was weird. Akashi was always the one scanning and analyzing and perceiving others’ thoughts, but Kuroko somehow seemed to read him where others couldn’t.
A few seconds passed where they both stared at each other.
“So you’ve heard my ramblings, I presume?”
Kuroko nodded. “Yes.”
Akashi’s mouth twisted. Of course he was here to witness me cursing at myself . Akashi exhaled hard.
Kuroko knew about Akashi’s trauma more than anyone did, and it irked Akashi to be read so deeply.
Kuroko took the liberty of straightening all of Akaashi’s things and started packing them in Akashi’s bag.
“Wait, Tetsuya--”
“We’re going to go out, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko said that as if they’d made plans a million years ago. He pushed Akashi’s hands away from resisting and finished packing the bag. Then Kuroko stood up.
“Where?”
Kuroko tilted his head. “Outside.”
Akashi eyed him wryly, then stood up. “You’ve always had a weird sense of humor, Tetsuya.”
Kuroko only blinked innocently. “I don’t know what you mean, Akashi-kun.”
Akashi followed Kuroko out of the library and off campus.
Akashi didn’t know they went to the same university until they shared a class. Being in class with Kuroko again had been a weird feeling--though not unwelcome.
Kuruko led him to a neighborhood basketball court. The place was as used and worn as Akashi felt. Kuroko retrieved a ball from the rec office before dragging Akashi to the court, wordless the entire time.
“Tetsuya.”
Kuroko started lightly dribbling the ball. He was slightly better, Akashi noticed. “You haven’t played basketball in a while, Akashi-kun.”
If one and a half years counted as a while, then perhaps Kuroko was right.
When Akashi didn’t reply, Kuroko said. “I suppose you’ve had your reasons for not following university basketball, but...None of us really started by playing on a team, right? We all started here, on a court, by ourselves.”
“...Tetsuya.” Akashi’s heart wavered a little. But then his father’s voice yanked at him to leave. Akashi sighed and took a step towards the exit. “The walk has been a nice break, Tetsuya, but I have much work to get to.”
“Wait!, Akashi-kun!”
Kuroko’s voice tugged at him like a magnet, and Akashi couldn’t bring himself to step away any further.
Kuroko held the ball out to Akaashi, and Akashi’s chest lightened at the bright blue eyes peering hopefully. “One game of horse.”
Akashi pursed his lips. Kuroko’s eyes wouldn’t let go of Akashi’s and after a few seconds, his father’s voice faded away like a passing siren. The corners of Akashi’s mouth lifted. “One game, Tetsuya.”