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It was still cold out, cold enough that each puff of Kuroko's breath formed a little cloud at midday. He shivered and stuck his hands deep into his coat pockets as he stepped outside the train station to wait for Akashi.
He wasn't left waiting long at all.
Just a minute or two after he reached the cafe where he and Akashi had agreed to meet up, Kuroko saw Akashi step out from a cab at the curb. Kuroko lifted a hand in greeting, and Akashi smiled in return as he approached.
It had been three days since they met by chance outside a conbini, late at night, with a cigarette of all things between Akashi's fingers. It had been three days since their talk about little rebellions, three days since they exchanged their new contact information and made plans to meet up again before Akashi left Tokyo.
Kuroko had sort of assumed those plans were the kind that never actually came to fruition, so it had come as a surprise—a not unpleasant one—when Akashi texted him the very next morning to make their vague plans concrete.
They'd agreed to meet up in Shibuya for coffee and a walk, and maybe while there they would find some nice and harmless new ways to disappoint Akashi's father. As practice.
When Kuroko reread their exchange and took a moment to really imagine what this outing might look like, he couldn't help but think it sounded like a date.
And when he thought of it like that, he couldn't help but smile.
He'd never really thought of Akashi in a romantic light before. That wasn't why he had to smile. It was just kind of funny to imagine Akashi Seijuro of all people on a date. Going on a date—with anyone, much less Kuroko—just didn't seem like something he would do.
"Kuroko," Akashi greeted warmly as they stepped inside the cafe. "I apologize for making you wait. My video conference ran long."
Kuroko ducked his head and hid another smile in the folds of his scarf. "I only just arrived myself, Akashi-kun."
He'd always known that he and Akashi were from very different worlds. Although they were the same age, Kuroko had spent the morning playing with Nigou while Akashi had, apparently, spent it in a video conference.
That was exactly why Akashi didn't seem like a person who went on dates. Though, today, he was certainly dressed nicely enough for one.
Kuroko didn't think that was anything out of the ordinary, of course. Akashi always dressed nicely. That certainly didn't mean this was any sort of special occasion for him.
They each got a coffee to-go, which Akashi insisted on paying for since he'd been the one to invite Kuroko out that day. Kuroko didn't protest, but when they visited a bookshop later and he saw Akashi peer with some faint curiosity at the cover of a light novel he was checking out, he bought Akashi a copy of the first volume in the series.
Akashi blinked in surprise, and mild confusion, when Kuroko pressed the book into his hands.
"It seemed to catch your attention," Kuroko said. "Maybe you'll like it, and as a bonus, I imagine it isn't the sort of reading material your father would approve of."
Understanding dawned on Akashi's face, bringing with it a quirk of Akashi's lips. "Read a light novel instead of smoking cigarettes, hm? It does sound more sensible."
"You always were very sensible," Kuroko murmured, with an unbidden twitch of his own lips.
They walked some more without any particular destination in mind. Eventually, they found themselves meandering away from the busier shopping streets and wandering through a quieter park instead. Akashi stopped them at one point and bought them each a hot drink from a vending machine, more to warm their hands than anything.
"I recognized the cover," he admitted out of the blue, as they stopped to take a break on a park bench.
Kuroko looked up and blinked. "Hm?"
Akashi lifted the small bag which contained the book Kuroko had gifted him earlier. "I thought it looked familiar, but couldn't remember why right away. It was… Mayuzumi-san used to read quite a lot of these."
Ah.
Kuroko cupped his hand around the canned cocoa Akashi had picked for him. He couldn't help but feel his curiosity piqued. What had become of Mayuzumi Chihiro after the Winter Cup? What had become of Rakuzan?
"He was a third year?" Kuroko asked.
Akashi nodded. "I think…"
Kuroko didn't prod or pry when Akashi trailed off into silence. He gave him all the time he needed to continue. Kuroko wouldn't really say patience was his strongest suit, but he found himself curious to know what Akashi would say, without any prompting or interference.
"I think I've left him with some bad memories of this year," Akashi said in the end.
Kuroko hummed to acknowledge that Akashi had spoken, but didn't otherwise respond right away. He certainly wasn't going to argue against the fact that Akashi's way of leading Rakuzan had been… questionable at best.
"But it wasn't you," Kuroko ventured, sneaking a glance at Akashi to gauge his reaction to those words.
Akashi only smiled, soft and serene, and shook his head. "I intend to take responsibility for 'his' actions. He isn't a shield or an excuse for me to hide behind."
Then… what is he, exactly?
Kuroko had always wondered, but he knew now wasn't the time to ask. That was a question for another time. In this moment, Kuroko felt only pleased that Akashi hadn't taken the easy way out. It would have been something of a disappointment if Akashi did allow all the fault for the past years to be laid at the feet of his 'other' self.
To hear him take responsibility, to hear him show remorse—it all made Kuroko feel a surge of what he could only call pride. Perhaps he was egotistical for thinking so, but hadn't he played a role—the leading role, even—in bringing Akashi to this point?
This growth in Akashi, this change. This was what Kuroko had fought for. This was what he'd wanted, for all his friends who'd been consumed by their days at Teiko.
"If there's something you feel bad about, you could apologize," Kuroko said after a moment. "He doesn't have to accept your apology, though. He might not. He's kind of a jerk."
A surprised laugh escaped Akashi's lips. He looked at Kuroko like he'd never seen him before, like he'd never heard Kuroko say something so bluntly negative about another person before.
Kuroko smiled to himself, then shrugged. "You might also find that he doesn't need an apology. I don't know exactly what things were like, between you and the others at Rakuzan. Between… the other you, and the others at Rakuzan. But what you think they think of you may not be what they think at all. There's no way to find out, except to talk to them, right?"
Akashi only looked at him for a long moment, like he needed some time to reconcile his preconceptions of Kuroko with the Kuroko sitting next to him now.
They had both changed since their first meeting at Teiko. Kuroko liked to believe he was stronger now, strong enough to look Akashi in the eye and be seen.
"You're right," Akashi said. "Of course you're right, and I will. We've yet to discuss what next year will look like for the team, but I'll talk to those who'll be staying and those who'll be retiring. Mayuzumi-san isn't the only person who deserves an apology."
Kuroko hummed again. He didn't know the specifics of what Akashi felt he had to apologize to Mayuzumi for. He could guess, of course. Akashi must have built Mayuzumi up, trained him, molded him. He must have promised Mayuzumi greatness in this last year of his, only to let him fall.
Kuroko had no way of knowing for sure, but he didn't need to know. Because what he did know, what he did have faith in, was that things were going to change for Akashi and for Rakuzan. And they were going to change for the better.
Kuroko lifted the can of hot cocoa to his lips and took a sip, hiding an almost impish grin as he tapped the side of his sneakers against the side of Akashi's very nice boots. "You could apologize to me too."
This time, Akashi didn't look all too surprised. His lips twitched, like he wanted to smile as well, but wasn't sure if he was allowed. It was like he was pretty sure Kuroko was teasing, but not totally certain.
"I'm teasing," Kuroko said, just to put his mind at ease. "Well, mostly. I don't think I'm wrong to be a bit unhappy about being replaced by a copycat like that. He even looked like me."
Akashi stood, so abruptly that Kuroko instinctively stood up as well. Kuroko blinked; it seemed it was his turn to be confused when Akashi turned to face him, looking rather solemn all of a sudden.
"I'm sorry," Akashi said. Even though Kuroko had just asked, albeit half-jokingly, for an apology, it somehow didn't feel like Akashi was saying these words just to placate him. His voice, his expression, his whole stance—it all spoke of pure earnestness. "That's exactly what I did. I tried to replace you. You were invaluable, and I lost you. Instead of thinking about why, instead of thinking about what I did to drive you away and how I could make things right, I chose to simply replace you."
Kuroko shifted his weight from foot to foot. It was a bit much, to suddenly be facing such a raw and honest Akashi. He found himself trying to lighten the atmosphere between them, murmuring, "It wasn't you."
Akashi didn't let Kuroko's attention stray. He reached out and clasped one of Kuroko's hands in his own. Though they were both wearing gloves, the contact was still enough of a surprise to bring Kuroko's eyes back up to Akashi's face.
"That isn't an excuse I intend to use," Akashi stated firmly. "Not for how I treated my team, and not for how I treated you. I see it now, Kuroko. I see it with new eyes, ones you helped me open. And if it isn't too late, please. Let me say I'm sorry, and let me tell you that…"
Akashi dipped his gaze and swallowed, like he was struggling with his words. That was even more of a surprise to Kuroko than the way Akashi had taken his hand.
But Kuroko wanted to hear it. He really, really wanted to hear it, whatever it was that Akashi wanted to say.
He was sure it wouldn't be too late.
Kuroko squeezed Akashi's hand, which drew Akashi's gaze back to his own. In Kuroko's eyes, there was acceptance. And in Akashi's, there rose a touch of hope.
Finally, Akashi smiled again.
"You are irreplaceable, Kuroko Tetsuya."
It was such a simple thing, so simple it could have sounded trite. But coming from Akashi, spoken in this moment and in this way, it was enough to make Kuroko's face heat up.
"I know," he said. He tried to sound a bit cheeky, but he could hear that he sounded a bit breathless instead.
"You're irreplaceable to me," Akashi continued. "I don't mean as a teammate, and I don't only mean as a rival, though you certainly are that. To me, you've become much more than that."
"This…" A puff of laughter, soft and incredulous, burst from Kuroko's lips. "This is starting to sound like a confession, Akashi-kun."
Akashi squeezed Kuroko's hand as well. He didn't look away. His eyes were still right there, waiting for Kuroko, when Kuroko lifted his head again.
"You don't have to give me an answer right away," Akashi said softly.
Kuroko's eyes widened. It was starting to more than just sound like a confession now.
"I do leave Tokyo in a few days," Akashi went on. "But if we could keep in touch, if we could continue to… reconnect. I would consider myself lucky, for a chance like that."
Kuroko was still staring in disbelief when Akashi released his hand. He didn't even move the hand that Akashi had lifted between them, just letting it hover there for a long moment. When he finally came back to his senses, he found himself gently laying that hand on Akashi's coat, as though he had to feel the beating of Akashi's heart for himself.
It was certainly there. Faint, under all the layers Akashi wore. But it was there.
A beating heart.
One which, even if only in some small part, seemed now to beat for him.
"Is this practice, too?" Kuroko whispered. "Is this another little rebellion?"
Akashi blinked, as though he didn't understand the question at all at first. But then there was a laugh from him, a real laugh, one that even crinkled the corners of his eyes.
He lifted a hand and laid it over Kuroko's, allowing it to press more firmly to his chest. "No, Kuroko. There was a time when I used you, that is something I can't and won't deny. But never again. I never want to be the person who makes you feel used again."
Kuroko believed him. Maybe he shouldn't have, but he did. Right away, and without any doubt or reservations whatsoever.
He believed everything Akashi said.
"I wouldn't mind," he said, with a grin that helped him now sound as cheeky as he wanted to sound. "You could use me for this, if a light novel isn't enough of a stepping stone to telling your father you won't quit basketball."
"But I would mind," Akashi said, shaking his head. His eyes were still crinkled with mirth. Any trace of uncertainty that may have been there before was now gone. "I couldn't and wouldn't do something so cruel and uncouth to you again, Kuroko. You would never be mere 'practice' to me, but if you would allow it… I would call you my strength."
Kuroko found himself staring again, and after a moment, he had to laugh. It was a sweet, happy sound that bubbled up from within him, causing his shoulders to shake just enough that he listed forward, lightly leaning his head against Akashi's shoulder.
"Are you always such a sap in relationships?" he asked. "I hadn't imagined you would be."
Akashi was very still for a few seconds before he lifted his hands again, gently letting them rest against the small of Kuroko's back. "I hadn't either," he murmured, with an obvious smile in his voice. "I hadn't imagined what I would be like at all."
Kuroko wasn't surprised. He'd thought just last night that Akashi didn't seem like the type to have dating on his mind, and it seemed he'd only been a little wrong about that.
How long had he been on Akashi's mind, in this way?
What would a relationship with Akashi look like, with Akashi leaving Tokyo in a few days?
Kuroko didn't know. In all honesty, he wasn't even sure if he returned Akashi's feelings just yet. They were still getting to know each other again, after being changed and shaped throughout the years.
But he knew enough.
He knew what he wanted.
"I want to see you again tomorrow, and the next day, and every day until you have to leave," he said, his voice just a tad muffled against Akashi's shoulder and his own scarf. "Even if it's just for a little while each day. I don't know if I feel what you feel, but I want to find out."
He lifted his head, but stayed in the circle of Akashi's arms.
"You said you would wait for my answer, and I believe you." Kuroko looked down at his own hand, the one still resting on Akashi's chest. Only his fingertips lay against Akashi's coat now, but he could imagine himself curling his fingers there and holding on.
He could imagine an Akashi who wouldn't cast him aside or let him fall.
Kuroko met Akashi's gaze once more, smiling and bold. "But I want to give you an answer before you go. I think you've earned at least that much."
Akashi stared at Kuroko with something like wonderment. It was a rare sight, to see Akashi Seijuro speechless. Kuroko was pretty sure he liked it very much.
He liked it even more when Akashi lifted the ends of his scarf and touched his smiling lips to the fabric, like a thief of intimacy who held enough reverence for his mark to take only what he knew he would be allowed.
And perhaps Kuroko did already know, even then, what his answer would be.