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“You don’t even like sweets,” Yoshitaka hisses. Kasamatsu looks up from where he’s nudging the lemon white chocolate cheesecake he chose on a whim. He frowns at Yoshitaka. “What are you doing here?”
“Kise wouldn’t shut up,” Kasamatsu says. His spoon grazes over the swirl of bright lemon curd on the slice of cheesecake, as Kasamatsu twists it in his hands. There’s a curl of white chocolate on the lemon curd, and Kasamatsu glares at it like it insulted him. Or, Yoshitaka thinks with no small degree of horror, like it swanned into the gymnasium and prattled on about karaoke and modeling. “It was embarrassing. What was I supposed to do?”
“Kick him to the ground and grind your heel into his back? Like you usually do?”
Kasamatsu looks alarmed and a little offended. “I don’t do that.” When Yoshitaka just cocks his head and stares, Kasamatsu amends, “I haven’t done that recently. Kise has been . . . more dependable lately. More responsible and serious.”
“Uh-huh,” Yoshitaka says slowly. He glances at Kise, who is still surrounded by his fans. They’re all wearing the uniform of the local girl’s middle school, and it is comical to see Kise tower over the gaggle of girls, their hair all in low ponytails and blushing faces turned up to their idol. Kise has turned his charm up to 12, flipping his hair and pressing his hands together while the girls chatter to him.
Yoshiktaka looks back at Kasamatsu. Kasamatsu’s eyes snap back to him, having been watching Kise, too. “So Kise is becoming a better version of himself . . . why are you hovering?”
He immediately wants to take back the words because Kasamatsu’s face shutters. His eyes go cold. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you from using Kise to pick up girls,” Kasamatsu says, his tone low but sharp, words sliding against Yoshitaka like a blade. He takes the reprimand; he remembers how Kise cried and trembled, and how white Kasamatsu’s knuckles were as he balanced Kise against his body. If Kasamatsu is hovering, it’s understandable. It’s just not his style.
“I’m sorry,” Yoshitaka says. He nudges Kasamatsu’s ankle with his shoe. “I just mean, he’s fine. You gave him a great pep talk. He’s been working just as hard, twice as determined but half as reckless. Kobori took away his key to the gym. Kise is fine. You’re not this soft usually.”
“Who’s soft?” Kasamatsu says, without heat. His shoulders fall, and he leans back against the shiny leather of the booth. “Mind your own business. I’m fine.”
Yoshitaka cannot mind his own business. His mouth twitches into a grin, and Kasamatsu looks at him sharply. Before either of them can speak, Kise’s voice cuts in.
“Sorry, sorry!” The blond slides into the booth, jostling Yoshitaka to shift over. His golden eyes gleam, and Yoshitaka doesn’t miss how Kise flutters his lashes at Kasamatsu when he speaks. Huh. “Every time I tried to leave, there was another fan! And it would’ve been rude to leave without signing some autographs.” Kise shrugs, somehow using his entire body to match his words. But he’s cheerful, bouncing in place and reaching for Kasamatsu’s cheesecake. “Senpai, did you order cake? I thought you didn’t like sweets.”
Yoshitaka grins. He’ll accept the kick Kasamatsu gives him. “I think he found one he might like.”
- - -
He is a romantic at heart, and a little nosy, so maybe that’s why he’s the only one paying attention to how Kasamatsu and Kise are. Kasamatsu is all business during practice, moving between drills with the assessing gaze of a general. But he lingers by Kise, watching him move through the drill with ease, pocketing the skill with ease and already turning ahead to the next new thing.
“Stop fucking around,” Kasamatsu says when Kise preens, posing as he lands neatly, having completed a nasty crossover, blowing past Momose into a reverse layup. It isn’t one of his flashiest moves, but it's technically perfect and pretty in a way all of Kise’s moves tend to be. Yoshitaka would be more jealous if he didn’t know Kise. “Save the cuteness for your job.”
Yoshitaka blinks. Kise laughs, sweet as a bell. “You’re no fun, Kasamatsu-senpai.” But he jogs back to his place in line, effortlessly joining Tanaka and Yuma in conversation.
He nudges Kobori, waiting until the other boy finishes drinking his water. “I think Kasamatsu and Kise are flirting.”
“With who?” Kobori asks. Bless his heart. “Kise asked his fan club to leave, although I can’t see Kasamatsu talking with any of them. You know how he gets—”
“With each other,” Yoshitaka says. He watches Kise laugh with Yuma and Tanaka. He watches Kasamatsu glance at him, drawn in by the sound. “Oh my god, Kasamatsu likes Kise.”
- - -
Kasamatsu suspects something, so he intercepts Yoshitaka whenever he gets close to Kise at practice.
“Don’t you have laps to run?” Yoshitaka doesn’t understand why Kasamatsu was so weird about the captainship. Sure, that game was an awful memory and Yoshitaka knows it drives Kasamatsu forward, but other than that, Kasamatsu has all the qualities a sports captain should have. He’s steady and cool-headed during a game, and commands respect (and terror) without more than a look. He never asks anyone to do anything he would not do, and Yoshitaka is a little jealous at how much the whole basketball club adores him. Also, he’s unfairly cool in uniform, and all the girls who aren’t still stuck on Kise bat their eyes at Kasamatsu and hope he’ll look their way.
Kasamatsu shakes him. Hard. “Oi, what’s wrong with you?”
Yoshitaka swats at him. Kasamatsu smacks his shoulder. Yoshitaka considers retaliating, but Kasamatsu has that mean glint in his eye, the one that means he’s getting pissed off and is not above using his big brother strength to kick you through the wall.
From behind them, Kise, voice pitching, shouts, “I’m definitely not messing around, Kasamatsu-senpai.”
Yoshitaka looks over his shoulder. Kise is still several feet away, but his expression looks a little pinched and he’s holding the basketball to his chest. He glances back at Kasamatsu, whose expression looks less irritated and more . . . exasperated.
“Focus Kise,” Kasamatsu shouts back. His eyes cut back to Yoshitaka. The irritation is back. “What are you doing?”
“Does Kise have a sixth sense for when you’re pissed off?” He wonders, rubbing his chin. “That’s . . . kind of impressive for a guy that told us we all sucked the third week of the season.”
Kasamatsu’s face does a complicated thing, and Yoshitaka almost sympathizes. It must be hard to be reminded of how you kicked your future crush around, to the point he developed a new sense for your temper. That’s not a story for the grandchildren.
“ What ,” Kasamatsu grinds out, red creeping into his face. Even the tips of his ears are red.
Yoshitaka realizes he spoke aloud. “Uh. . .”
- - -
He doesn’t finish his laps until long after practice is done. Coach was no help, unsympathetic while Yoshitaka dragged his feet and panted around the track.
(“I’m sure Kasamatsu had his reasons,” Coach said, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. Yoshitaka was too tired to scowl. Even his shoes were filled with sweat. “No practice tomorrow morning, by the way.”)
Yoshitaka drags himself into the gym and immediately walks back out. He finds Kobori by the vending machines, back in his uniform and finger hovering indecisively over the selections.
“Kobori,” he says. Kobori looks alarmed. Yoshitaka doesn’t let him speak, just grabs his jacket sleeve and drags him to the gym. He throws his arm out once they get to the doorway, and he looks the other boy in the eyes. “Kasamatsu likes Kise.”
Kobori looks at the scene, mouth opening and closing. He tilts his head. “Kasamatsu takes the 4 seriously. And Kise got hurt.”
Yoshitaka shifts his grip to Kobori’s collar. He gives him a gentle shake. “Kasamatsu likes Kise.”
Kasamatsu is a good guy, but neither Yoshitaka nor Kobori would call him particularly nice. He’s not mean, and he’ll always have your back in a fight. But he’s not gentle, sentimental, or tender.
But there’s no other way to describe the way Kasamatsu is looking over Kise’s ankle, holding it in his hand, the other hand curved under Kise’s calf. And Kise is watching him, hand folded over his mouth like a reminder to stay quiet.
And then the conversation.
“Onion gratin soup has no nutritional value,” Kasamatsu says, tone even. “You need protein, idiot.”
“It’s made with beef stock.” Kise leans forward on his hands. “Come on, senpai, you said I could choose this time!”
“Because I thought you’d choose something not stupid.”
“Senpai!”
“Fine, stop crying.” Kasamatsu lets go of Kise’s foot and sits back on his heels. Yoshitaka can’t see his face, but his tone is teasing. “Crybaby.”
“Kasamatsu likes Kise,” Kobori says finally. “You’re right. But you know Kasamatsu isn’t going to make a move, and we don’t know if Kise feels the same.”
Yoshitaka slings his arm around the other’s shoulders and gives him a grin. “Then aren’t they lucky they have us?”
- - -
Yoshitaka tries to recruit Hayakawa and Nakamura. Both of them are skeptical. Yoshitaka doesn’t understand why everyone is so resistant to believing that Kasamatsu has a crush on Kise.
“Because Kasamatsu always said he likes serious girls,” Kobori says. Yoshitaka waves him off.
“And Kasamatsu-senpai never expressed liking anyone,” Nakamura adds. He adjusts his glasses and looks over his shoulder to where Kasamatsu is directing three-on-threes. Kise has been sent off to the pool to ease any strain on his ankles. “And Kise is . . .”
“The favo[r]ite.” Hayakawa nods, but he’s looking more and more convinced. Yoshitaka is glad his passion and support extend beyond rebounds. “Maybe that’s all it is?”
Yoshitaka takes it back. He expected Nakamura to shrug him off, but Hayakawa?
Nakamura frowns. “I just need more than a story about Kasamatsu-senpai checking Kise’s ankle, Moriyama-senpai.”
“You believe in ghosts,” Yoshitaka says. “And you didn’t see how he was. Gentle and nice —”
“Kasamatsu is not nice,” Kobori adds.
Hayakawa exchanges looks with Nakamura. “But Kise is the favo[r]ite,” he says again.
Yoshitaka scoffs. He sets his hands on his hips. “It’s like you all want Kasamatsu to die alone.”
That makes Hayakawa and Nakamura wince, but it’s too late. Yoshitaka and Kobori will do this themselves.
- - -
“I don’t think it’s right to meddle in Kasamatsu’s personal life,” Kobori says. He pulls Yoshitaka behind one of the stalls, so they can no longer see Kasamatsu and Kise share a basket of grilled shrimp. “And you know Kise is contractually prohibited from having a relationship. If he even likes Kasamatsu back.”
Yoshitaka knows he’s right. He thinks about the sound of fists against metal and Kasamatsu’s muffled crying. He thinks about how Kise flinched when he realized what he was hearing. Quietly, he says, “I think Kise likes him, too. And I think if they like each other, and they know they like each other, they can make it work. Don’t you?”
Kobori is quiet. After a moment, he says, "I think we should trust Kasamatsu."
- - -
Now that Yoshitaka knows what he’s looking at, it’s almost unbearable to watch Kasamatsu and Kise circle each other. The clues are in the spaces, in silence when Kasamatsu doesn’t say anything to Kise but just watches, in the way Kasamatsu’s hand lingers on Kise’s shoulder, in his hair as he tousles it. When Kasamatsu’s hand sweeps across the dip of Kise’s back as he adjusts his lifting posture, Yoshitaka stumbles out of his lunge and nearly takes out Moriyasu.
And Kise? Kise leans into that physicality with delight, collecting each moment like a magpie. Yoshitaka pities Kise’s fans, that they’ve never seen Kise smile in genuine pleasure like he does when Kasamatsu pays attention to him. It has to be reciprocated, Yoshitaka reasons. Kise leans into Kasamatsu, and more than once Yoshitaka feels like he's intruding when the two of them interact, even in the crowded gym.
“I can’t look away,” Kobori admits during stretching. “It’s really obvious once you know.”
Yoshitaka just wishes he could do something about it.
- - -
It’s the Winter Cup before Yoshitaka can blink, and he and Kasamatsu are looking for Kise.
They find Kise with the rest of the Generation of Miracles. As they approach the stairs, Kasamatsu’s brow furrows and he takes in the other players with a small frown. It’s quiet, and there’s something heavy about the air around them. Yoshitaka catches sight of the Seirin players at the bottom, Kagami holding his cheek while his teammates fuss over him. The other Miracles are silent.
Kasamatsu’s attention lands on Kise. “Kise,” the blond twitches, hurriedly turning around with a wide, horribly fake smile.
“Senpais!” He says, bubbly and effervescent and so sweet that Yoshitaka’s teeth ache. “I was just—”
“If you wanted to say hi to your friends, you just had to say so,” Kasamatsu interrupts. “We’re getting lunch. Our game was rescheduled for later.”
Kise just blinks at them. The fake smile is gone, something more uncertain taking its place. Kasamatsu keeps talking, even though the other Miracles are now watching him. “Half the guys are at the noodle place across from the bus stop. The others went to the noodle place by the train station.”
“Both of those places are terrible,” Kise complains.
Yoshitaka cuts in, hoping his smile is genuine despite the unease. He never played against Teiko, but every youth basketball player knew about the Generation of Miracles. With just Kise, day to day, it’s easy to forget he’s one of the bogeymen of boy’s basketball. Now Yoshitaka is surrounded by the others. “That’s why we’re going to the bakery.”
Kise perks up. “The one across the street? I love their petit fours.” His face falls. “Oh, my wallet is back in my duffel.”
Kasamatsu snorts. “When have you ever paid for a meal, brat?”
Kise pouts. “You make me sound terrible, senpai. Like a mooch.”
“Because you are,” Kasamatsu says without sympathy. Yoshitaka sighs. He would never treat his crush like this. “But aren’t you lucky, your Moriyama-senpai is treating both of us.”
Hold on— “Hold on—”
Kasamatsu turns cool eyes on him, a faint smirk in place. “Aren’t you always talking about what a good upperclassman you are? And how mean I am to our cute first year?”
This must be revenge for the cake thing. “Yes, but—”
“Moriyama-senpai is so generous,” Kise says, eyes wide and lashes fluttering. Yoshitaka wishes he didn’t care so much about his happiness and well-being, Kise's shit-eating grin is obnoxious. “They have these delicious strawberry cream buns, too. I always get a dozen.”
“You have to eat proper food.” Kasamatsu scolds, reaching Kise and digging an elbow into his side.
“They have salads, too.”
“I just said proper food. Come on you spoiled brat.”
Kise’s mouth curls into a small smile, hand brushing against where Kasamatsu elbowed him. “I’m so loved.”
“Pampered.”
“Cherished!”
“Spoiled.”
Kise bursts into laughter, sharp and sweet. Everyone’s attention snaps to him, and Yoshitaka doesn’t miss how Aomine’s mouth twists briefly. Even Kagami’s attention is taken by Kise, whose laughter tapers into something soft, his cheeks pink. Kasamatsu looks triumphant before he turns away. “Mean,” Kise murmurs. “This is why Moriyama-senpai is my favorite.”
And then he waits for Yoshitaka to hurry down the steps before they follow Kasamatsu. Yoshitaka can feel the others' eyes on his back. He slaps Kise on the back, before reeling him in. It feels comforting, and Yoshitaka isn't sure what else to do.
“Try to control your rich boy tastes, okay?” He teases.
Kise winks at him, but at least that fake smile is nowhere to be seen.
- - -
Yoshitaka doesn’t want to think about their games. He doesn’t want to think about how they fell short. He doesn’t want to think about how, even though it hurts, he can’t say he would have done anything differently.
He looks at Kasamatsu, who manages to look defiant despite his red-rimmed eyes. The other guys are still in the shower. Kasamatsu and Yoshitaka are still in uniform, sitting side-by-side on the bench.
Kise is with the other Miracles. No one had asked for details when he announced he was going to find them, and he’d be right back.
“Just confess to him,” Moriyama says quietly. The words almost stick in his throat, but he kicks them out even when Kasamatsu glances at him. He's seen enough, and he wants them to be happy. “If you don’t do it now, you won’t ever do it.”
Kasamatsu doesn’t say anything. He turns his gaze on the locker across from him. At length, he says, “Yeah.”
- - -
They’re not the only ones with the idea to find their wayward Miracles. Miyaji gives them an awkward smile, more of a grimace that Yoshitaka returns. Shutoku played their game with red eyes and a simmering frustration that Yoshitaka understood intimately. Kasamatsu just nods at him, not breaking his stride as they try to find the quiet corner where the reunion of the Generation of Miracles is happening.
They come across Mibuchi, and the awkwardness between them triples as Mibuchi and Miyaji just stare at each other.
At least they haven’t run into Seirin. Yoshitaka adores Kise, but he will abort if Hyuga shows up looking for Kuroko.
“Senpai!” Yoshitaka really adores Kise. His timing is excellent. “Were you looking for me? Is it time to go already?”
Kise is flanked by Midorima and Aomine. Touou’s manager, the cute girl with pink hair, is on Aomine’s other side. Yoshitaka wants to wave at her, but there’s something intimidating about how her eyes rove over him and Kasamatsu. He sticks his hands in his pockets.
“When you’re ready,” Kasamatsu says. Yoshitaka looks at him in confusion. The bus is running; the whole team is on it. “We’ll wait for you.”
Kise nods. “I’m ready.” And then he turns and throws his arms around Midorima, earning a squawk from the taller boy. “Bye Midorimacchi,” he says cheerfully, holding firm even when Midorima shoves his hand against Kise’s face. “Remember what I said, you’re losing next time.”
“Let go of me, idiot,” he hisses, smoothing out his jacket. Miyaji snickers behind his fist. Midorima gives Kise a haughty look. “As if my team would lose.”
Kise is already turning on Aomine, fluttering his hand at Midorima and getting a glower. Yoshitaka catches the fond smile on Akashi’s face before he turns to speak with Mibuchi. He wonders how familiar this whole scene must be.
“Don’t even think about it,” Aomine says. Kise bypasses him and draws Touou’s manager into a tight hug.
“Bye Momoicchi,” he sings, resting his cheek on her hair. “Text me, and we’ll get cake. I know a lot of places thanks to Moriyama-senpai.”
He really adores Kise. Yoshitaka waves and Momoi gives him a small wave back when she and Kise pull away. Kasamatsu sighs. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m looking forward to it, Ki-chan,” she says. “I won’t even bring Dai-chan.”
“Like I want to go eat cake,” Aomine mutters, digging his hands into his jacket pockets. “As long as you’re still up for a one-on-one afterward, Kise. No excuses.”
Kise hugs Akashi and Murasakibara, but waits until Kuroko nods at him before pulling the shorter boy into a hug.
“Never,” Kise promises. He turns back to Kasamatsu and Moriyama. “I’m ready, senpai.”
- - -
The bus ride back to Kaijou is silent. Kise wears his headphones and stares out the window. Kasamatsu leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. They sit next to each other.
Yoshitaka sighs. Kobori pats his shoulder.
- - -
“Kise, hang back for a second. I want to talk.”
Kise fumbles his phone, and he glances around with wide eyes before looking back at Kasamatsu. “Sure, Kasamatsu-senpai, but—”
“You’re not in trouble,” Kasamatsu interrupts, shifting from one foot to the other. He’s gripping the strap of his duffel. “It’s quick.”
And then he meets Yoshitaka’s gaze and, imperceptibly, tilts his head down the street.
Finally. “A captain’s job is never done!” Yoshitaka says cheerfully, loudly, and gets exhausted looks in return. He shoos the rest of the team forward. “Come on, guys, I think that family restaurant is still open. Let’s get a table.”
When Yoshitaka looks back, Kasamatsu is reaching out for Kise. And it’s like that moment in the gym, like Kise is something precious and Kasamatsu wants to be gentle. And, even at this distance, Yoshitaka can see it.
When Kasamatsu leans in, and Kise follows, Yoshitaka looks away. He nudges Hayakawa so he stops staring too.
“Told you,” Yoshitaka says.