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Valentine's Day at Teiko was, without fail, Akashi Seijuro's annual descent into personal hell.
Not because he disliked chocolate, and hardly because he received too little of it, if anything quite the opposite. Every February 14th, his shoe locker transformed into a bottomless pit swallowing dozens of chocolate boxes dressed up in ribbons and love letters that reeked of cheap perfume.
And that was before accounting for the ones handed to him directly, in the hallways, outside his classroom, and on one particularly bold occasion, at his front gate. Just this morning, he had collected eleven boxes before he even made it from the school entrance to his locker.
His red eyes swept the crowd of passing students, searching for a certain pale figure. But Kuroko Tetsuya, as usual, often vanished with the efficiency of a ghost, there one moment, absolutely nowhere the next.
Tucked behind a pillar in an inconspicuous corner of the hallway, Kuroko stood gripping a small brown paper bag. Inside it was chocolate.
Homemade chocolate. Which was a problem.
Because Kuroko Tetsuya in the kitchen operated at a level of destruction comparable to Kagami's dunks, spectacular and inevitably leaving casualties in its wake.
Two days ago, Kuroko decided to make chocolate from scratch for Valentine's Day. His reasoning was simple: he wanted to give something personal to someone he considered the most special person in his life. Not a store-bought box that anyone could give to just anyone.
And the result…
A kitchen that looked like the aftermath of a chocolate factory explosion. The stovetop was coated in hardened chocolate smears, the counters were buried under dirty bowls, and his neighbor had knocked on the door after catching a whiff of something burning.
But the important thing was: something resembling chocolate now existed.
It looked, honestly, more like lumps of coal, though. Some parts were a little dark around the edges. And the taste… Well, he had eaten a small piece and survived, which he was choosing to count as a win.
Kuroko found Akashi standing near a second-floor hallway window. As always, the Teiko captain looked immaculate, blazer crisp, his signature red hair catching the light, radiating the kind of aura that made people instinctively step back.
But Kuroko stepped forward. Because he was Kuroko.
"Akashi-kun."
Akashi turned. The moment he registered who it was, his expression softened. "Kuroko."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Akashi-kun," said Kuroko, his voice stayed perfectly flat, though his heartbeat had quietly picked up. He held out the brown paper bag, technically a recycled bread bag, redressed with a few stickers he had found lying around. "This is for you."
"Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Kuroko," Akashi replied. His eyes dropped to the bag immediately. He took it carefully, with both hands, as though it were something irreplaceable. He opened it, and...
For a few seconds, he simply stared at the dark, misshapen lump sitting at the bottom with an expression that defied easy description.
"This is... chocolate?"
"More accurately, something that once had dreams of becoming chocolate," Kuroko said.
For a moment, Akashi said nothing.
Then he laughed, louder than he ever allowed himself to, and loud enough that even a few students at the end of the hallway turned to look.
"Kuroko," he said once it subsided, "you are the only person who can make me laugh like that."
"Because my chocolate looks ugly?"
"Because you're honest." Akashi looked at the chocolate again and took it out of the bag, examining it more closely. "It does look ugly, I won't lie. It looks like a basketball that got hit by a truck."
"..."
Akashi broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth.
Kuroko held his breath.
Several seconds passed in excruciating silence.
Akashi chewed slowly. Chewed again. Then froze completely.
The hallway felt impossibly still, the tension thick enough to touch. Kuroko's mind ran silently, considering every worst-case scenario: poison, collapse, emergency procedures. This was it. This was how Akashi would end. Not in a blaze of glory on the basketball court, but in a quiet hallway, brought down by his own burnt chocolate.
"This is..." Akashi's voice came out slightly hoarse. "This is..."
Kuroko began mentally calculating the fastest route to the infirmary.
"...Good."
"What?"
Akashi broke off another piece and ate it. "The texture's a little strange, but the flavor is right. Not too sweet. There's a slight bitterness to it, like expensive dark chocolate."
"That's because it's burnt."
"It's good," Akashi said, in a tone that did not invite further debate. "Thank you, Kuroko. This is the best Valentine's gift I've received today."
A strange warmth spread through Kuroko's chest, like the rare, deeply satisfying occasion when he made a three-pointer.
"You must have gotten a lot from other people."
"Dozens," Akashi confirmed. "All expensive, all from well-known shops. Polished and interchangeable. Nothing that stood out."
He looked at Kuroko.
"But this is the first time anyone's ever made something by hand for me. Someone important."
Kuroko felt heat rise to his face. He was quietly grateful that his general invisibility might, just this once, also conceal a blush.
It did not. Akashi noticed everything, watching him with barely contained amusement.
"Here," Akashi said, breaking off a small piece of Kuroko's chocolate and holding it out. "You should try it."
Kuroko blinked. "I made it. I already know how it tastes," he said. "To make sure it wasn't poisonous and wouldn't kill anyone."
Akashi gave a low chuckle. "I'm aware," he said. He didn't lower his hand. Instead, he held the piece a little closer, just close enough that Kuroko would have to lean in to take it, or open his mouth, or do something.
"Taste it again." His voice had dropped just slightly. "Not as the person who made it."
His red eyes stayed on Kuroko's blue ones.
"But as the person I want to share it with."
Kuroko had no immediate response to that. He found he had forgotten, momentarily, how to breathe at a normal pace. The sentence as a whole was doing something to him that he hadn't budgeted time for today. This was new. Nobody had ever said that to him before. The person I want to share it with. Not the chocolate. Him.
Then Kuroko parted his lips.
Akashi slid the chocolate inside, his fingers resting at the edge of Kuroko's mouth just a moment longer than necessary. Then he withdrew, his expression neutral except for the faint curve at the corner of his mouth.
Kuroko chewed slowly, hyperaware of Akashi watching him. The chocolate was exactly what he remembered. Still a little burnt and still tasting like something that had survived a kitchen disaster. Imperfect in almost every way.
But Akashi was looking at him like he had created something precious.
"It's still not good chocolate," Kuroko muttered.
Akashi shook his head, breaking off another piece for himself. "No. It's better than good. It's yours."
Yours.
The word landed somewhere in Kuroko's chest. He watched Akashi lift the chocolate to his lips, watched his eyes flutter closed for just a fraction of a second as he chewed, watched his throat move when he swallowed. There was something impossibly intimate about seeing someone you cared about enjoy something you made, even if that something was objectively terrible.
They stood in the slowly emptying hallway, eating the lumpy, misshapen, slightly burnt chocolate. The two least expressive people at Teiko, celebrating Valentine's Day in their own way.
"Maybe next year we can make chocolate together," Akashi said suddenly. "I'll supervise, you'll do the mixing. The result might not look like a basketball that got hit by a truck."
Right. It might look like a basketball that got hit by a truck and then run over for good measure instead, Kuroko thought. But he nodded anyway.
"That sounds nice, Akashi-kun."
They smiled, very slightly, barely enough to count as one. And if anyone else had been watching, they probably would have assumed both boys were experiencing mild stomach cramps.
But they knew. It was the most genuine smile either of them had worn all Valentine's Day.
That evening, the Generation of Miracles group chat came alive.
Momoi: someone said they saw Tetsu-kun carrying chocolate today!!! who did he give it to?!?!?!
Kise: WAIT SERIOUSLY?!?!?! NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY
Midorima: One thing I know is that he wouldn't have given it to Akashi. Statistically, the probability is essentially zero.
Aomine: lucky bastard
Murasakibara: mm... chocolate... i want chocolate...
Akashi: Sorry, I'm a bit busy enjoying Kuroko's homemade chocolate. The flavor is unique, but it's perfect. And before anyone asks, no, you can't have any.
The chat went silent for three full minutes.
Kise: I'M DEVASTATED
Momoi: I'M CRYING
Midorima: My statistical model has completely failed me.
Aomine: AKASHI I COULD TELL FROM YOUR FACE THIS MORNING. YOU WERE NOT SUBTLE
Murasakibara: not fair... when does everyone else get chocolate...
Akashi set his phone down and looked at the remaining chocolate from Kuroko's bag sitting on his desk. Ugly, scorched at the edges, completely misshapen.
But it tasted sweet.
Just like its maker.
He decided it was his favorite thing he had eaten all year.
The End.