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Three things:
One: it is 2016. The world did not end on twelve, twenty-one, twelve. The sun did not implode, scattering in bits across the galaxy. And basketball continued, and Kuroko Tetsuya continued, and the Generation of Miracles continued.
Two: that golden class of Teiko had now reached the age of twenty. Some carried around their past with pride. Aomine Daiki, for one, was still known as the one whose light shone brightest even during those times of prodigies as he stood with pride on the international stage. Others tried to escape their title. Midorima Shintaro had found himself in medical school, working hard to walk along a path to bring himself a calm and stable life with Takao Kazunari. Yet others treated that time as a badge of honor, another addition to the trophy case of accomplishments that is Akashi Seijurou. Kuroko, decidedly, had chosen to cherish at least the good memories.
Three: Kise Ryouta had a girlfriend. And Kuroko was suddenly not okay.
It’s not that the model, having only gained more fame in the model world as the years passed, had never dated before. There was always someone (and Kuroko remembered: Miraicchi, Soracchi, Harucchi, Yukicchi…), but that had been before high school. His time had then been separated carefully among basketball and modelling and the old Teiko crew. And when high school had ended, Kise Ryouta had tried to factor in college, but dropped out only a few weeks ago.
Kise Ryouta had, surprisingly, kept his name solo in all the tabloids. A clean record, with no affairs, no late night visits. The only time anything came up was when Kise was shown to be clingy (it was Kise) toward a certain Kasamatsu Yukio. That quickly faded, however, when Kise had to miss an interview to go to Kasamatsu’s wedding.
But now, suddenly, Kuroko Tetsuya was faced with one of Kise’s usual selfies, but this time with a girl.
She was cute, Kuroko supposed, and probably at least partially foreign. With wide sapphire eyes and amber eyeshadow and shiny pastel purple hair tied up in a bun. Her smile was brilliant, teeth all aligned, bangles wrung around her wrists, an arm wrapped around Kise’s neck. Kuroko thought he recognized her, but Kuroko had never much cared to keep up with fame.
He scanned the emoji-heavy text about going to a café with a new coworker. No name, no reason. Kuroko wondered how he should respond, before realizing he ignored eighty percent of Kise’s messages anyway. He locked his phone and slipped it back into his sweatshirt pocket.
“Tetsuya?” Akaahi questioned. He looked up in response. “Is something the matter?”
Kuroko honestly wasn’t sure if he was happy or nervous having the ruby-haired heir as a peer in university. It was moments like these, however, that Kuroko wished he had ended up with one of his less perceptive friends instead.
“No, Akashi-kun. Just another irritating message from Kise-kun,” Kuroko responded, convinced that Akashi would simply nod in understanding.
Instead, he hummed. “Ryouta, hmm? He’s getting very famous in America right now, actually. It’s quite awe-inspiring that he still has the time to send you all these messages.”
Kuroko refrained from snorting. “He always manages to send messages to us who went to Teiko. Even when he was still going to college. I’ll never understand the amount of time he spent complaining about work to us instead of doing it.”
“Oh?” Akashi questioned. Kuroko narrowed his eyes at the amusement in his tone. “You got complaints about college? I was speaking with Shintaro shortly after Ryouta dropped out, and we discovered that neither of us even knew what he was studying.”
Kuroko’s expression remained empty as he let out a sigh. “Maybe you just blocked it from memory. Kise-kun was planning on getting a degree in fashion design. He also wanted to take more advanced English classes, with all the popularity he’s gained in America.”
Akashi chuckled. “No, I don’t believe he ever told me this. In fact, I don’t remember hearing anything of his education after his excitement over being accepted into his college of choice.”
Kuroko shrugged. “Well, it’s all in the past now.”
“That’s not the point, Tetsuya. Though he may have been talkative in high school, now I only get messages from Ryouta once or twice a week.”
In response, Kuroko massaged the bridge of his nose, pushing his English textbooks to the right side of his table. He was sharp, and there was no way he didn’t know where Akashi was going with this. In fact, some sort of suggestion that Kuroko was special to Kise seemed to come up every time the latter was mentioned. “That’s not it, Akashi-kun.”
“Then what is it, Tetsuya? I’d really like to know.” The slightest edge entered his voice then. Even after all these years, Akashi Seijurou did not appreciate others questioning his word.
Kuroko brought out his phone. He placed it on the table facing Akashi, the recent picture from Kise displayed on the screen. “Satisfied, Akashi-kun?”
“Ah, so this is what was bothering you a moment ago,” Akashi noted, flicking through the other messages from Kise. While this was an obvious invasion of privacy, even Kuroko didn’t dare to do more than glare at the action.
“I was not bothered,” Kuroko responded factually. “I was surprised, since he hasn’t seen anyone since middle school.”
Akashi turned the phone back to Kuroko. “You didn’t seem all that shocked when Daiki finally dated someone.”
“That’s because both Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun had told me of their feelings for the other before they actually confessed. It was only a matter of time before those two idiots finally started dating.”
Akashi didn’t argue with that. Instead, he glanced back at the phone. “Ryouta didn’t say Minako-san was his girlfriend.”
Minako-san, Kuroko thought, subconsciously committing the name to memory. “The picture, Akashi-kun.”
“Tetsuya,” Akashi emphasized. “He took a photograph with her. Ryouta has taken hour-long bus trips each way to eat lunch with you on many occasions. He went to nine in every ten basketball games you played in high school. He often runs ten yards and hugs you with all that momentum in the middle of crowded streets. And how many pictures of you two does he have on his phone by now?”
Kuroko sighed again, feeling aged. “That’s different, Akashi-kun.”
“Alright, I’ll drop the subject. Just let me ask: would you be worried if Ryouta took a photo with Satsuki?”
Kuroko decided not to admit that Akashi Seijurou, as usual, had a point.
--
Kise-kun: KUROKOCCHI I GOT A NEW OFFER
Kise-kun: MY MANAGER SAYS THIS IS A GREAT OPPORTUNITY!!!!!!!!
Kise-kun: I’ll be in New York next week~! Wish me luck (/^.^)/~
--
“Tetsuya, I’ve heard Ryouta is going to be in New York in two days,” Akashi mentioned one Friday afternoon as his eyes scanned a bookshelf in the library.
“Ah, he mentioned that a few days ago,” Kuroko responded, eyes not leaving his Japanese-English dictionary. A large vanilla shake, empty for a while now, towered over his scattered pages of notes.
Akashi paused a moment. Then, “I thought you said the vanilla shakes were so unsatisfying here that they were hardly worth buying… Isn’t that the Maji Burger logo?”
Kuroko abruptly tossed the cup into the nearby trash can. “Your point, Akashi-kun?”
“So Kise-kun decided to visit once before he left for the United States, did he?” Akashi’s eyes paused as they landed on the book he had been searching for: an anthology of essays regarding responses to emotional stimuli that he was required to read for one of his psychology classes.
Kuroko simply closed his dictionary, knowing Akashi would continue soon enough.
Akashi smiled. “I recall you telling me once that you aspired to teach Japanese in an English-speaking country.”
“I believe I did tell you that once, Akashi-kun.”
“And you were so motivated to learn that you ended up placing into second year English as a freshman.”
“I prepared more than necessary, I suppose. What are you trying to say?” Kuroko’s voice warned against a real response, but Akashi had never been stopped by such a tone.
“I was just thinking how interesting it would be if Kise and you both end up in the United States. After all, we’ve all known since high school that he’ll likely end up relocating there. There seem to be some production companies that want to bring him into the movie business, after all. What a coincidence that you also hope to be in an English-speaking country.”
Kuroko’s blank eyes focused on some place behind Akashi. It was silent for a moment, but then Kuroko spoke up.
“Please reconsider your decision to major in psychology.”
--
Kise: THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING (image attached)
Kise: LOOK AT THESE BUILDINGS (image attached)
Kise: KUROKOCCHI U CAN’T SEE THE STARS AT NIGHT (image attached)
Kise: OH WAIT IT’S ALSO CLOUDY ACCORDING TO THE WEATHER ^.^
Kise: if im understanding the english correctly of course~
Kise: u should come next time to translate ;)
--
“I’m going to die,” Kuroko said when he heard the door to his dorm open. Papers were scattered across the room, but only on the right half. The left side—Akashi’s side—was miraculous as usual.
“I don’t suppose you’re finally going to talk to me about Ryouta,” Akashi noted, eyes examining the body of Kuroko sprawled on the floor with a textbook over his face. “Oh, yes. Exam week, is it?”
“You would think,” Kuroko said pointedly, “That you—as a student at this university—would know midterms are starting.”
Akashi finally walked into the room, taking a seat at his desk. “As long as I keep up with my studies during the semester, I don’t find myself in the position of needing to study for exams. I have other uses for that time.” Akashi took out his laptop, browsers filled with tabs of sales data for one of the many Seijurou companies. Kuroko let the textbook slide off his face and sat up.
“That’s not fair, Akashi-kun. You’d think you were the one with the full tuition academic scholarship.”
“You know as well as I do that I’m simply paying tuition because I didn’t feel the need to apply for scholarships, Tetsuya.”
Kuroko huffed in annoyance, rolling over so his back was turned to Akashi. Then, quietly, “Kise’s going to be back after I take these exams.”
“So it is about Ryouta after all,” Akashi replied, not a trace of surprise in his tone. “Will you see him?”
Kuroko scrunched up his nose. “He said he wants to take me out for dinner.”
“Quite the romantic, isn’t he?”
“Minako-san… She was the gateway to America, apparently. She goes between here and there to play different roles. That’s why he was talking to her so much.”
A smile entered Akashi’s voice. “I told you it wasn’t a romantic relationship.”
Kuroko curled up into himself and took a deep breath. Then another.
“Tetsuya?”
“Kise-kun is only going to be back for three weeks. Then he will officially move to America.”
--
Kise: im so excited~ even tho i met with some people in NY, it seems ill be moving to California
Kise: Minakocchi lives there too
Kise: her English is so much better than mine
Kise: wish you were here
“So do I,” Kuroko sighed to himself, before closing his messages and falling asleep.
--
Exams were no less difficult than Kuroko had imagined, but all the preparation paid off. He was rather confident in his performance, and hoped the clear weather was a good sign meant for him.
Kuroko had to turn his phone off vibrate. Akashi’s knowing looks every time Kise sent yet another motivational message were getting a bit uncomfortable.
Then, at last, Monday came. Kise had gotten back to Japan Sunday night, but hardly had time to visit Kuroko before heading back to his apartment. And so it was that Kuroko planned to enjoy his first day off class, perhaps play some basketball with Kagami—
“Oh, Kuroko. Sorry, but I’m on my way to Aomine’s. I’ll be staying with his family a few days.”
That was fine, Kuroko decided. Perhaps he would go for tea with Akashi.
“I’m afraid I’ll be out playing shogi with Shintaro until four.”
Kuroko sighed, lying back on his bed. There was absolutely nothing to distract his nerves until Kise came at seven. He took out his English textbooks, opting to look over the chapters he would go over the following semester, as Akashi got ready for his outing.
When he was almost out the door, he suddenly turned around. “Tetsuya, it’s our winter break.”
Kuroko raised a questioning brow. “I usually study during breaks?”
“That’s not what I was referring to,” Akashi responded with a shake of the head. “Just keep the occasion in mind.”
“What are you—”
But Akashi was at the door.
--
Kise: looking forward to tonight~
Kise: it’s a bit cold today hmm
Kise: im glad I just get to relax today
Kise: tHIS dRAma iS SO SAD iM CR Y inG
Kise: HE BETTER NOT LEAVE
Kise: oh he came back
--
At precisely four in the afternoon, Akashi reappeared. He shrugged his coat off his shoulders, hanging it neatly in the closet.
“I take it you won every game again.”
Akashi sighed. “Of course, Tetsuya. But he decided to bring that lover of his along. There wasn’t a moment of peace.”
“Ah, Takao-kun,” Kuroko noted. “I haven’t seen him in quite some time.”
“He hasn’t changed much. I don’t quite understand how Shintaro gets along with him, but I suppose opposites are said to attract. No one would claim you and Ryouta are much alike, either.”
“Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun are exactly the same,” Tetsuya countered.
“Perhaps. Daiki is a bit less mature. I was pleased to hear he was introducing Taiga to his parents, though. I’m not sure his parents have met any of his companions other than Satsuki.” Akashi glanced at the textbook in front of Kuroko and smirked. “So how much more of the English language have you packed into that head of yours in just a day?”
“Someone who knows English fluently has no right to ask that,” Kuroko shot back.
A chuckle. “Well has your Ryouta sent you any messages today?”
“Kise-kun is in no way mine—”
“Oh, but he is.”
“—and a few,” Kuroko finished, ignoring the interruption.
Akashi picked up Kuroko’s cellphone, shrugging off the latter’s exasperated expression, and opened up his messages. Kuroko waited for some annoying yet insightful comments as Akashi’s eyes scanned the messages.
Then, “Ryouta really needs to stop watching all those dramas.”
--
Kise: Just one more hour~
Kise: Im getting on the train now
Kise: Ah awkward I have been identified
Kise: everyone wants autographs
Kise: what should I doooo
Kise: kurokocchi~
--
“Tetsuya, you never fail to surprise me—I’ve told you that time and time again—but are you serious?”
Kuroko looked blankly at his roommate, confusion and worry showing softly on his features. “What is it, Akashi-kun?”
“He’s taking you out to dinner,” Akashi responded, crossing his arms as he looked Kuroko over. “Why are you wearing some faded sweatshirt I swear I saw you wearing in junior high?”
Kuroko looked down at his sweatshirt. It had admittedly been a souvenir he got on a trip in junior high. It was from Kyoto, but the only design left seemed to read “Kyt” with half a sakura blossom. “He didn’t say where he was taking me to dinner, so I assumed somewhere casual.”
“Kise Ryouta would not have invited you out for an evening dinner at a fast food joint. He would’ve met you in the afternoon for that. Seven in the evening? When he knows he’s about to make quite a sum of money? Trust me, Tetsuya. This will be the most high-class diner you have ever been in.”
Kuroko swallowed uncomfortably, his excitement weighed out by anxiety. “So what should I…?”
“When you interviewed for a part-time job last summer, you bought a nice suit. You ironed it afterwards and hung it out of the way, assuming you wouldn’t wear it again for a while,” Akashi stated, his memory as accurate as always. “You were wrong.”
Kuroko tried to argue that it wasn’t even a date, but Akashi’s expression warned against it.
--
Kuroko wondered when Akashi would receive the consequences of being right too often, if even there were any.
Kise showed up at their room, clad in some designer suite, a dozen crimson roses in his grip. He grinned, looking bright and happy as always. Kuroko was pleased by the sight of him, flattered by his effort.
Of course, none of this showed on his face as he glanced at the roses and told Kise, “Those look like they were a pain to take on the train.”
Kise simply laughed at the expected response, holding the bouquet out for him. Kuroko attempted to hide his shakiness as he took them, carefully placing them on his desk, freshly cleaned from the weekend.
“Thank you, Kise-kun.”
--
When Kuroko was finding his stride next to Kise, a message blinked to life on his phone.
Akashi-kun: Tetsuya, this is surely a date. Don’t hurt poor Ryouta by assuming otherwise.
Kise cocked his head to the side, but Kuroko just shook his head and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
--
Kise would ask about that message again—much later while a sudden hint of remembrance stains his features. Kuroko would shake his head, smiling slightly, and assure him it wasn’t important. Kise would cling to him and whine, leaving Kuroko to refuse to answer for an hour—even though he would know he would give in at the end.
Kise would complain about “Akashicchi” being too important to Kuroko, and Kuroko would remind him that Akashi was actually doing a favor to Ryouta. The first of the many favors that came after.
--
The restaurant gave a quick relief to the chill of the outdoors. The place was certainly nicer than what Kuroko had originally pictured. The floors were carpeted with deep red, lined with gold where soft fabric met exquisite wallpaper. Blossoms were carved into the tables, the back of the chairs sculpted like branches of a cherry tree. The restaurant was roomy, enough space between the tables so none felt too crowded. There were some separated tables in the back, sound-proof curtains between them. Kuroko was unsurprised when, upon seeing Kise, the waitress licked her lips and led them to a private table.
As the waitress introduced herself as “Hiroka”, her eyes failed to leave Kise. Finally, she questioned, “The reservation was for two, Kise-san. Might I ask what your companion will look like so I can lead her to this table?”
Kuroko sighed under his breath—enough for Kise to glance over in concern, but not enough for the waitress to notice him. He met Kise’s gaze, shrugging slightly.
After a moment of awkward silence, confusion apparent on the waitress’ features, Kise replied, “He’s here already, Miss Hiroka.” He gestured to Kuroko. She started, before bowing an apologizing.
“I apologize, sir. I don’t know how I missed—and I assumed Kise-san was here for a date—”
Kise smirked mischievously at Kuroko—who immediately replied with a disapproving scowl—and chimed, “Oh, but he is my date.”
Kuroko’s thoughts were split among is this table hard enough to bash my head on, Akashi was right—how annoying, and wait so this is a date? And so, Kuroko’s usual blank expression settled on his features as the waitress—looking almost horrified—glanced between them.
“Kise-san is—”
“Completely taken by this young man here,” Kise finished, voice sweet. “And since we are on a date, it’d be very nice if we could be left to our private table until we decide on our meals.”
Kuroko would’ve been appalled by the image of the waitress awkwardly shuffling away if he were not still completely unsure how to react to the rest of the situation. It was, Kuroko decided, not too important. After all, in three weeks Kise would be gone. Perhaps there was some interest, but it would fade with distance. And then someone better, more deserving…
The night went on.
--
To say the least, Kuroko was confused when Kise grasped his wrist and started half-running through side streets. He had been eating dinner with Kise earlier, the usual banter in the air. Kuroko had thought Akashi was right about the atmosphere for a while, but perhaps what Kise had said to the waitress was just Kise-kun being Kise-kun.
“Close your eyes, Kurokocchi!” Kise suddenly yelled. This had the opposite effect, as Kuroko widened his eyes in bewilderment. The model looked over his shoulder at the shadow, the contrast brighter than ever, and smiled. “Seriously, Kurokocchi. Something’s about to change.”
And then the brightest view in the world went dark as Kuroko’s eyelids automatically obeyed.
There was some sort of chatter around them. People going about their evenings, Kuroko figured. Step, step. An easy rhythm of steps was eventually obtained, the noise suddenly replaced with only Kise’s breathing. They had broken out of the town somehow.
When Kise stopped, Kuroko almost ran right into his back. He was tempted to open his eyes at the contact, but kept them closed. Something akin to hope kept the curtain across his eyes as Kise grasped his shoulders and adjusted his position.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
Frost sparkled under the stars, lining the branches of a cherry blossom tree. Lights were spread evenly across the branches, leading down to an outlet in the concrete a few feet away. A peaceful silence seemed to crawl through the dark bark, and Kuroko turned with wide eyes to look at his surroundings. It was a children’s park. A slide, a swing set, a seesaw. Then the night sky was interrupted by the smallest pricks of white.
The first snow.
Kuroko heard the release of an uneven breath beside him, turned to find Kise’s usually confident gaze fixated on some random point on the ground.
“Kise-kun,” Kuroko tugged at his shoulder, something brighter causing his renowned apathetic expression to break into a smile. “Kise-kun, it’s snowing!”
Kise looked up, but not at the snow. Face flushed more from nervousness than from cold, his suddenly tear-filled eyes stared into Kuroko’s.
“It’s midnight. Merry Christmas, Tetsuya.” He smiled crookedly. Then, taking a deep breath, something more mature entered his features. He took a small box out of his pocket. “It’s an odd gift, perhaps… It made me think of you, yet I’m not sure I could see you wearing it.”
Kuroko opened it slowly, as though rushing the moment would cause all good things to collapse. The box held a long silver chain—a necklace, Kuroko realized. The links were small and light, and at the end was a charm. A diamond engraved wing. At the center was a shining sapphire stone in the shape of a heart. Hesitantly, Kuroko turned the charm over. There engraved were four words.
You are never alone.
“Kise-kun,” Kuroko began, something new and bright and hopeful in his tone. “We all knew you would be going to America someday. We all felt it, somehow. Being on the top of the world with you at Teiko, it seemed like I could see all your future held but mine didn’t.”
“Kuro—”
Kuroko held up his hand to stop him. Taking a deep breath, he met Kise’s gaze steadily. “And so I studied. Hard. My English was at a much higher level than expected when I got to university. I realized that maybe I had some chance at being somewhere near you—in the shadows, like I’ve always been. If I became a Japanese professor in America, I realized I could maybe just see you every few Monday afternoons. I would tell you about a few troublesome students. How my class never noticed me until the lecture began. Then maybe you would tell me about your coworker. Some actress you would date, then get engaged to, then marry. But that’d be okay. Maybe I’d be your best man. Maybe Akashi-kun would play the piano for your first dance. Murasakibara-kun would rudely eat most the cake. Takao-kun would drag Midorima-kun on his arm like it was natural. Momoi-san would have designed the fliers. Aomine-kun would complain about how frivolous it all seemed, but he would still be there—smiling brighter than ever at the success of a friend. And I would meet the lucky girl. She would be foreign, blue eyes capturing the sky in a way that matched the sun in your smile. And then maybe I wouldn’t even be able to contain myself. Maybe I would weep. But I could cover it up by how beautiful it was. This life—your life. It would be perfect. And I would be lucky just to be a part of it.
“Kise—Ryouta, that’s how I always assumed your life was supposed to be. You—just you—at the top of the world. And I would’ve been happy if you just sent me a selfie now and then, as always. Because I truly love you.”
Kise shouldn’t be able to look so pretty when he’s crying, Kuroko thought with a smile, thumbs stroking his tears away.
--
Kuroko wasn’t sure how to react when Akashi gave him his Christmas present. A ticket to California, along with the documents for a study abroad that Akashi had signed him up for without permission. It was only for the year, and Kuroko would have to return after for his final year of university.
But that would be okay, because he would get a selfie and a drama recommendation every day. Well wishes and plans for the future. And Kuroko would realize that there was already a home to go back to there, in America.
But for the time being, Kuroko sat on the couch, pretending to read a book, as Kise read through his lines and paced his—their—living room.
“Hey, Ryouta?”
“Yes, Tetsuya?” Kise responded, immediately putting down the script.
“Why a wing?”
“Nothing can hold you back. But you knew that.” Memories passed between then—of basketball and of rivalries, of Maji Burger and of friendship.
“And in my freedom I chose you,” Kuroko mused.