This is in honor of Akashi-kun's birthday…because my time zone says I still made it, lol. Thanks for reading, I hope you like the story! ^.^/

Chapter 1


A whisper from a doorway – hurry – rather than propelling him onward, instead stopped Kuroko in his tracks. Kuroko stared warily at the darkened entry, a perfectly ordinary door left ajar and allowing a small glimpse down a shadowy corridor. He hesitated, sure it was just his imagination as there was nobody there who could have spoken.

He started to turn away when he heard it again – hurry – and it seemed more urgent this time. He turned back and there was nothing in the doorway, yet he felt he had to enter. There was something calling him, and though he could not guess what It was right that moment, he simply knew he was supposed to go forward.

Kuroko unconsciously drew a breath before squaring his shoulders and going in. He caught a trace of something smoky but delicate in the air, as if sage had been gently warmed over dying coals. He looked around cautiously, the furnishings were all well-made, but old and showing signs of use – a nick here, a scuff there – indicating this was a lived-in space.

He kept walking and heard soft music playing, something instrumental and aching, it certainly wasn't a happy piece even though Kuroko didn't recognize it specifically. He was aiming for a door at the end of the hallway, left partially open and a light was coming through. Once he got there he was surprised to see a small shop on the other side. It sold coffee and tea, both to drink there in a relaxing sitting area or packets of beans and leaves to take home. There were two customers seated at different tables, one was reading a newspaper and the other was busily typing away on his phone. They didn't look up at his entrance.

Kuroko glanced around, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. It certainly didn't seem there was any reason to rush, he knew he'd been imagining things. His lips kicked up in a small smile at his own behavior and he was preparing to exit when a greeting was called out in a calm, confident tone that assured any who heard it that the speaker was absolutely capable of addressing their concerns, "Welcome to my café. How may I help you?"

Kuroko stared. He didn't mean to, yet couldn't help it. The man behind the counter shouldn't be so compelling, but he was. He wasn't staggeringly tall, although he had at least a few inches on Kuroko. His eyes were mismatched, one yellow and one red, and his hair was red, too. His expression was serene, with the tiniest bit of amusement present, as if perfectly aware Kuroko couldn't stop looking at him.

He hadn't wanted anything, but his eyes went to the menu board in spite of himself. Kuroko was ordering almost before he knew it – a cup of green tea laced with vanilla syrup and a small baked bun to accompany it. The man nodded in acknowledgement and softly invited him to take a seat while he brewed the tea.

Kuroko sat at a corner table, he could see the other patrons but there was no feeling that they were cramped, it seemed as though there was plenty of privacy. He felt a little awkward, the others were engaged with their own activities. He paused, mentally shrugged, and pulled out a book from his bag. There was nothing pressing, he could linger there a while.

It wasn't long before the man moved from behind the counter and brought Kuroko his order. He had laid out the cup on a dainty saucer and the plate that held the bun was scalloped along the edges. Kuroko felt the tiniest bit afraid of damaging these obviously valuable antiques but resolved to be careful. The barista smiled and introduced himself as Akashi Seijuro, the proprietor of the café. Kuroko was a bit unnerved to be served by the owner, but gave his own name in return. Akashi had smiled and it seemed oddly triumphant to Kuroko, who brushed off that impression as his apparently overly-active imagination. Akashi might be wearing a fairly innocuous combination of a grey polo and black jeans, but he seemed the type to be wearing an immaculate power suit and with a crisp, white shirt that he would need only wear once before discarding.

Kuroko didn't notice when the others left, he was too absorbed in his book and feeling himself relax from the calm setting. But suddenly he sensed eyes on him and glanced up to see Akashi watching him. Kuroko blinked, unsure as to why he was garnering such attention.

Akashi seemed to be considering something and after a moment he apparently reached a decision as he came over.

"May I join you?" The question was polite, though unexpected.

Kuroko nodded a little hesitantly. "If you would like to, certainly." As Akashi sat down opposite him, Kuroko grew inexplicably nervous and reached for his tea to take a calming sip. He nearly choked on it at Akashi's next question.

"Did you hear a voice telling you to come here, Kuroko-kun?" It was asked idly, as if inconsequential, but the intensity of Akashi's gaze alerted Kuroko as to the importance of his answer.

He was not sure what to say. Was this a trick of some kind? Akashi did not strike him as the type to play practical jokes, but Kuroko was at a loss as to how the other might have known that if it wasn't something he'd set in motion.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Akashi-kun." It was an honest, if not quite precise answer.

Akashi smiled in acknowledgement. "Don't you? Well, no matter. These things always resolve themselves once begun." He stood, apparently content with his cryptic response and started to go back to the counter. He paused, glancing back at Kuroko as he spoke, "Now that you've found me, please do come visit often." A smile, and a half-shrug accompanied his comment.

Kuroko felt inexplicably shaken by Akashi's words and he was resolved to not return to the café. He stared down at his cup and saw he'd finally finished his tea – it had been delicious, but he couldn't remember lingering over a cup so long before – and decided to leave. "I should leave now. Thank you for welcoming me and the delicious refreshments. Please take care, Akashi-kun." He gathered his belongings and made to leave, seeing only Akashi's nod and enigmatic expression.

It took a few weeks, but eventually Kuroko found himself drawn back to the strange café. He thought there was another whisper – you're back – and he nearly stumbled in surprise. There was something about this place that brought out fanciful notions. It occurred to him that the establishment really wasn't well marked, there was no sign on the door outside to indicate it was even there, yet somehow he got to it with no trouble.

As he entered, he heard music again. It was still quiet and mournful, but the tone this time was plaintive rather than so completely lonely as it had been on his first visit. Kuroko wondered if Akashi should not change his playlist to be more welcoming to potential customers. He made his way down the hall and to the door, recognizing the two patrons as the same from before. He gave a mental shake at that – there was nothing so unusual about there being regulars at a favorite café. He was even there around the same time as before; it was probably their routine.

Akashi nodded at him when he passed through the entrance. "Welcome back, Kuroko-kun. What would you like today?"

Kuroko bobbed his head a little, unexpectedly flustered by the fact the other had remembered his name. He repeated his order from his first visit, not really taking the time to see what else was on offer, although the complex aromas the permeated the space indicated Akashi sold a variety of concoctions.

It was as before, and Kuroko did not notice the others leaving, but again Akashi asked to sit with him. He almost refused, feeling strangely like he was being pursued for some reason. But reminding himself that he was being silly, Kuroko gave his permission.

This time Akashi made no mention of hearing things. Instead they engaged in the polite small talk that strangers everywhere conducted. Kuroko relaxed. This was not so strange. He even felt comfortable enough to ask some questions of his own.

"How long have you had this café, Akashi-kun? I only noticed it for the first time when I was here last. But it looks like you've been here a long time?"

Akashi smiled, and sat back in his chair, tucking his left hand into the crook of his right elbow. "The café is relatively new. I have tried my hand at other enterprises over the years, which probably contributes to the look it has. But we'd only been open for a few weeks before you first dropped in."

Kuroko nodded, that explained why he hadn't been able to find out anything about the café online – it just had no reviews yet as it was so new. He hadn't examined his motives for searching for it after his first experience there, it was just a matter of wanting to see if others had noted the slightly eerie atmosphere.

"I think you will do well here, Akashi-kun. This is the best tea I can remember drinking and the bun is delicious. Perhaps you just need to be a little more direct in advertising?" Kuroko flushed, who was he to give unsolicited advice like this? He felt unaccountably rude and forward to even mention such a thing. But he wanted Akashi's business to do well, although he couldn't have explained why it was suddenly important to him.

"Ah, the lack of clientele." Akashi's eyes glanced around the café, taking in the deserted space with something like amusement although the joke was known only to him. He continued, "Don't worry, the café will survive as long as it needs to for me to succeed. I am glad you enjoy the tea; I have developed contracts to serve several exclusive blends and varieties. You won't find any like it elsewhere in Japan. As for the bun…well…all the food here is the creation of my assistant. His name is Murasakibara Atsushi. I am sure he will introduce himself at some point, especially when he learns you appreciate his creations."

There was something there…something in Akashi's answer that Kuroko felt did not quite satisfy his curiosity, but he couldn't place what it was. He hedged his own answer, "I would be happy to meet him if the occasion arises."

Silence reined for a while, and it didn't seem strained. Kuroko wasn't a great believer in talking just to fill the quiet and it seemed Akashi subscribed to a similar philosophy. It occurred to Kuroko that once he got settled, he felt very at home in the space. Perhaps it was the bookcase featuring a diverse collection, Akashi had mentioned that the books were there for customers to read while enjoying their drinks. Or maybe it was the eclectic collection of artefacts scattered tastefully around the place – it felt rather like being invited into someone's parlor rather than a commercial space.

When Kuroko's eyes landed on an old clock his eyes widened in surprise – it was an antique design that showed traditional Japanese time in the use of six units each for day and night. You didn't see these terribly often anymore, with the prevalence of equal hour measurements being more common. It was a beautiful piece, with the zodiac hours inscribed in a delicate rendering alongside the numerals themselves. Kuroko realized he had not yet heard the clock's chime and he wondered if it still worked.

Akashi's gaze had followed his and noted Kuroko's interest in the piece. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered the unspoken question. "It does work, but I have not calibrated it in some time." He got up with a quiet murmur for Kuroko's pardon and disappeared into what Kuroko had presumed was the office or storeroom. Akashi emerged a short time later with a bag in hand that made some clunking noises – indicating tools of some type were probably inside.

He moved with confidence and skill, there was nothing about Akashi's demeanor that indicated anything other than a certainty he would get the clock working. Kuroko was impressed despite himself, he wouldn't have thought Akashi – who seemed so cosmopolitan somehow – would be familiar with something like this.

Showing again an uncanny ability to sense what Kuroko was thinking Akashi answered, even as he was withdrawing unfamiliar instruments from the bag and unfastened the panel that allowed him access to the clock's mechanisms. "This belonged to my father. He insisted I master how to keep the clock working from a young age. I have fallen out of practice, but perhaps it is time to take it up again."

Kuroko watched as Akashi worked with the clock. He showed a patient expertise that lent credence to his growing up with the clock's care. The spring was carefully greased and when Akashi wound it, the length indicated it would run for a month at a time without assistance. Soon the timepiece was closed up again and Kuroko was entranced despite himself to hear the faint noises indicating it was back in operation. He got up to examine it more closely, not sure why he was so fascinated with the machine. He started to reach out to touch it but drew his hand back when he realized the item was probably important to Akashi and he did not want to damage it.

He shot a look of apology to Akashi who shook his head. "Feel free. You can't really hurt it." Kuroko smiled, a shyly pleased look on his face. His fingers traced the wood – worn smooth with age, and went to the enameled panels showing scenes that marked the seasons. He traced the glass dome that protected the top of the clock and the metal spires that graced the side.

Akashi watched him as he explored the clock. A soft, "You've always loved that thing" made Kuroko jerk his head up with surprise.

The expression on Akashi's face was somewhere between regret and annoyance, as if he hadn't intended to say such a thing. He brushed off his comment with a brusque, "I mean it tends to draw visitors' attention." He turned away and went back to the counter, busying himself with assorted activities that made it clear that topic was closed.

Kuroko was confused, it had been a strange thing to say. He decided he should leave and with a quiet farewell, he exited hastily. He wasn't sure he would come back.

Akashi watched him go and gave a rare, frustrated sigh. A presence appeared next to him in the form of a tall, green haired man with spectacles.

"An unusual slip for you, Akashi. You will need to be more careful."

"I don't need your help, Shintaro. I have this well in hand. I had simply forgotten his attachment to that infernal clock."

Midorima Shintaro had been, if not precisely Akashi's friend, then at least his trusted associate, for over three thousand years. He knew what had Akashi worked up but it was still out of the ordinary.

"It took longer to find him this time. Your impatience is understandable. But you need to be on guard, Akashi. That spell is very specific, as you well know, and you don't want to risk losing him." His voice was matter-of-fact, but he was sympathetic.

Akashi stared aimlessly at the empty café. When he spoke, it was one-part bitterness, one-part wistfulness. "Everyone thinks the idea of a soulmate is so incredibly romantic. But they have no idea how frustrating it is. I've been chasing Tetsuya through one rebirth after another for millennia and he still hasn't learned to recognize that voice for what it is." He was referring to the voice that drew Kuroko to the café – or whatever form Akashi's lair took in the current time period.

Midorima shrugged. "He's not the same as we are. The soulmate bond lets you find him, but he was always mortal. He's not trained to look for things out of the ordinary. This era in particular is out of touch with such things. But he's drawn to the clock, it's a sign he'll gain his memory again. Just be patient a while longer, Akashi."

There was no other choice and they both knew it. The sorcerer that had wrested Tetsuya from him had been quite cruel. He would be able to find Tetsuya in each new lifetime, but Akashi couldn't just tell Tetsuya about his past, or he would die even earlier. Instead, he had to wait, and carefully gain Tetsuya's trust each time enough for three cups of the memory-restorative tea. Then, once Kuroko did recall their history, they had yet to last longer than one year before Tetsuya succumbed to some inevitable tragedy.

It meant Akashi had watched Tetsuya die several hundred times, and then he had to wait for the cycle to reset, find Tetsuya's new form and wait for him to reach adulthood and then reach out again. He'd tried waiting to see if not approaching Tetsuya at all would break the curse. It hadn't. And those seventy-three years had been painful to watch as Tetsuya lived out a life without him in it. Akashi had tried to be happy for him, Tetsuya had married and had children, grandchildren, and even a great-grandchild. He'd been loved and respected in a quiet, unassuming way. But Akashi had been jealous of all of that, knowing it was selfish but still unable to help himself.

Akashi had been pouring over the wording of the spell with a fine-toothed comb for millennia. The sorcerer had understood both of their natures rather better than was comfortable. Akashi could end the cycle by giving up his powers, and he and Tetsuya would have a single lifetime together. Or, he could turn Tetsuya into one of them by using the energy of a different soul-bond to substitute someone in their place. Tetsuya had refused to condemn another couple to their fate. Akashi didn't want to give up his powers. They were both stubborn - both sure their way was right – but enough was enough. Akashi had no intention of continuing to lose Tetsuya, he'd been patient, it was time to fix this mess once and for all.

Midorima watched him silently for a moment. "He will not forgive you for this, Akashi."

The redhead shot his companion an irritated look. "I expect he will be upset, yes. But at least I will have the time to change his mind when he becomes one of us rather than continuing to lose him so quickly."

Akashi spoke again, softly and with the awareness he was going against Tetsuya's wishes, "It's already begun. His third cup of the tea will awaken his memories like it always does. I've just expedited things by including the groundwork for the substitution spell as well."

Midorima offered a non-committal noise in response. He neither approved or condemned Akashi's actions, it wasn't his place to do so. But they both knew that once Tetsuya realized what Akashi had done, there would be little that would assuage his guilt.

As it was, Kuroko was starting to feel the effects of the tea, although he didn't know to ascribe the consequences to the drink. He was starting to see things, just little glimpses and glimmers of what looked like people in old-fashioned costumes; he was hearing conversations that seemed somehow familiar; and his skin tingled with something like anticipation. He didn't know what to make of it and went to see a doctor, worried it might be something serious. The physician ran any number of tests but finally decided Kuroko must simply be tired and he recommended resting as much as possible.

Finally, a month after he had last visited Akashi's café, he went back. Kuroko was restless, and not sure why he felt he had to return. If nothing else he hoped to hear the clock chime, he'd left before it had tolled last time. He ignored the whisper that greeted him at the door – finally, it's time – and walked down the hall. The music was still subdued but echoed with a tiny thread of hope, Kuroko made a note to mention how he liked this tune the best so far.

The same two patrons were there again but at this point Kuroko was inured to the strange coincides that seemed to surround this place. Akashi appeared to have expected him, and was already placing a cup filled with gently steaming tea on one of the pretty trays. Kuroko took the same table he'd occupied before and when Akashi brought the drink and snack to him he was not surprised that Akashi sat down.

"It has been a while since you visited, Kuroko-kun. Have you been well?" The question was solicitous and genuine, but Kuroko caught the faintest edge of impatience, too.

"Yes, a little out of sorts for some reason, but it should pass. And you, Akashi-kun? Are things going well?"

Akashi watched Kuroko take a sip of his tea. He wouldn't have to wait much longer. "As well as can be expected, but I anticipate an improvement very soon."

Kuroko tilted his head inquisitively. "Is that so? I hope things will go your way, Akashi-kun. It seems like you work very hard."

The smile that crossed Akashi's face was cryptic and reserved. "It makes me happy to have your blessing, Tetsuya, I shall hope it stays that way."

Kuroko paused mid-sip, had he told Akashi his given name…? He couldn't remember. He suddenly felt dizzy and very carefully set down the teacup. He heard Akashi's voice, but he couldn't make out what the other was saying – had he been poisoned? He felt so ill, he thought that must be the case and he tried to call out for help but couldn't manage it.

His head felt like it would explode – there were thousands of images running through his brain, facts, and stories, and talents and skills from hundreds of lifetimes all fighting for placement in his memory. He passed out from the shock of it and didn't know Akashi expertly caught him before he could injure himself from the fall.

When Kuroko woke again he had no idea how much time had passed. But he was in a soft, comfortable bed and had a cool cloth on his forehead. He was exhausted and felt terrible, what was wrong with him? And then he caught sight of Akashi, sitting patiently in a chair next to the bed, watching him.

"Akashi-kun…?" It was all he got out. His chest felt too tight, like something was frantically trying to escape from his body, and his lungs nearly burned from some unknown heat.

"I'm sorry for your discomfort, Tetsuya. It is an unfortunate part of the transformation process. It will pass soon."

Kuroko's mind supplied some answers – he knew who Akashi was, and was excited to see him again, feeling centuries of love and affection flood his system. But he didn't remember this pain from his prior memories, this was different from his usual recovery. He latched on to a key phrase – transformation process – and stared at Akashi in shock.

Akashi looked unrepentant. "I told you last time, I would not lose you again."

Kuroko was devastated. Akashi had ignored his plea to let them find another way, some other loophole in the spell. Instead, he'd kept his powers at the expense of someone innocent, thrusting another couple into the cycle they'd tried for so long to escape.

He closed his eyes, too tired to answer. Akashi understood. He leaned down and brushed a kiss against Tetsuya's cheek, bringing a thumb up to wipe away a tear that escaped. Akashi stared at it for a moment before smoothing it against his index finger. "It's not as bad as all of that, Tetsuya. We have each other after all. You will forgive me eventually."

Kuroko didn't answer, he felt too lost and fragile for speech. He was asleep again before he knew it, and Akashi had left the room anyway.

Aomine and Midorima, who Kuroko would now recognize as the two other visitors at the café, waited in the hall for Akashi to update them.

Aomine pointed toward the door in question. Akashi nodded in response to the silent inquiry. "He's undergoing the transformation now. He remembers his past but with the added strain of his body turning into what we are I imagine it will take a while before he is able to handle visitors."

Midorima fidgeted with his lucky item of the day, a habit so old none of them remembered him without it, running his fingers over the keychain absently. "Does he know?" They all knew what Midorima was asking, did Kuroko know what Akashi had done.

Akashi sent a cold glare his way. "He does."

The silence that descended was heavy and brooding. Aomine broke it first. "Tetsu will be angry."

"Tell me, Daiki…who would you rather see angry, Tetsuya or me?" Akashi's question was nearly pleasant in tone, and all the more terrifying because of it.

Aomine took his cue and didn't say anything else, just resumed his position outside the room. He was standing guard and would not leave until Tetsuya's transformation was complete.

Midorima said only, "I'll alert Murasakibara his services will be needed soon." He walked away without further comment. When Akashi had started the transformation process, he'd done so with the tea and buns Kuroko ingested. They were laced with the food from the supernatural realm, alongside the memory root that he'd used for centuries to revive Kuroko's memories. Kuroko would no longer derive nutrients from mortal food and as such, Murasakibara's talents in the kitchen would be invaluable.

The next several days were taxing for everyone. Akashi rarely left Tetsuya's side, choosing to hand-feed and care for him by himself. He only allowed others in when he wanted to change the sheets that were drenched from Tetsuya's fevers. While he did not like seeing Tetsuya in distress, he refused to feel guilty. These were mere moments in the relative lifetime they would be able to share as a result of the transformation. But soon enough his fever subsided and his breathing evened. It wouldn't be long now.

Akashi was there when Tetsuya woke again, this time pain-free. He was calm but Akashi could see the seething fury mixed with hurt in his normally calm blue eyes. Tetsuya struggled to sit up and Akashi refrained from helping him, knowing Tetsuya would need some time before he welcomed Akashi's touch again. He finally managed it, but it was clear that effort had cost him a great deal of energy.

"Akashi-kun, what have you done?" It was a question, but it also wasn't. They both knew the answer either way.

Rather than give a reply that was already understood, Akashi simply got up and opened the door. He brought in a tray that had been waiting and placed it on the nightstand next to Tetsuya's bed. Still without speaking, he reached behind Tetsuya and pulled the pillows up so he had more support.

It seemed as though Akashi might not speak again when finally, he deigned to do so. "You know, or should know by now, that defeat is intolerable to me. Yet I have watched you die hundreds, possibly thousands, of times Tetsuya. It was no longer an option. I chose this step as the best course of action."

Kuroko stared at him and his expression was nearly unreadable, except for the tiniest flare of what looked like grief. "I am sorry for your pain, Akashi-kun. That was always a burden I was spared and perhaps if I had been in your shoes I might have done the same thing. But how could you? We at least knew we would see each other again. Will the pair you put in our place have even that much?"

Akashi shrugged, a careless gesture that told Kuroko before the other replied what he wanted to know. "I doubt it and I don't care. They were an ordinary couple, they may or may not find one another each lifetime, but they won't know that agony of separation, like I did."

He didn't recognize the pain in his hand for what it was until Akashi reached over and carefully pried his fist open, placing his hand flat on the bedspread before resettling in his chair. "Akashi-kun…I don't know if I can forgive you for this."

Akashi thinned his lips briefly. "You are upset. I understand. But you will forgive me, Tetsuya. In time, anyway." He glanced at the tray and leaned over to lift it, gently setting it in Tetsuya's lap. "For now, eat. You'll need to rebuild your strength."

Kuroko looked at the tray dispassionately. "And if I don't eat this, Akashi-kun? Will you force me to? Will I die?"

The redhead sent him an annoyed look. "Don't be petulant. If you don't eat then you'll be hungry and weak, but it won't kill you. Very little can kill you now that you're like me. I won't force you to eat, but you'll only be spiting yourself by refusing nourishment. If you don't believe me then go without. You'll see soon enough that you'll survive it."

Although he'd like to believe Akashi was lying, Kuroko knew there was no point to it. Akashi would be more insistent if he were in real danger, he'd done this much to ensure Kuroko stayed with him, hadn't he? Kuroko began to eat, registering the exquisite flavor of the food with little enthusiasm. He remembered now…Murasakibara-kun would have prepared this.

Akashi watched him eat without comment. Tetsuya wasn't stupid, he'd understood there was no reason for Akashi to lie about it and therefore no reason to skip the meal. He wasn't surprised when Tetsuya stopped only a small way into the portion he'd been served. The smaller male had never had an outstanding appetite and he was still weak from his ordeal.

Kuroko was struggling. On the one hand, he was so absurdly happy to see Akashi again it was all he could do to avoid flying into his arms to celebrate their reunion. He loved Akashi. He had loved him for thousands of years. He knew Akashi was capable of actions like this, but he'd truly thought Akashi understood why he was against it. However, if he did understand, it would seem Akashi didn't care. And Kuroko didn't know which of those possibilities was worse. Which led to the second hand…he felt broken and betrayed. Akashi had changed him without his permission, had carelessly condemned others to take the burden of their fate so that he could have both his powers and Kuroko. It was crushing him and he didn't know what to do about it.

In a small, carefully blank voice, Kuroko said only, "I would like to rest again, please."

Akashi nodded and stood, "You're tired. I will return when you've had some time to think and regain your perspective."

Kuroko closed his eyes and listened to the quiet tread of Akashi's footsteps as he exited the room. The door closed silently on well-oiled hinges, and then he had only his own thoughts for company. He tried to take stock of his new form but it was difficult. He didn't know how much of what he was feeling right now was the result of the transformation itself and how much would be permanent.

Still, he could sense a coil of energy inside of him that he suspected would turn into his powers. Akashi-kun had demonstrated his own talents for Kuroko at various times. Akashi had an uncanny ability for strategy and persuasion, and he could strike out at his enemies with a blast of energy that nearly always felled them in one blow – he was clearly a formidable opponent. But he could also coax the most enchanting music from any instrument he took up. That was how Kuroko had first encountered Akashi, playing some ancestral form of the flute in a field with only a pure white horse to listen.

He also guessed that he would obtain the healing and recuperative powers that allowed Akashi and his brethren to live so long. It made Kuroko's brain pull up an image of Midorima, the advisor whose talents for healing were so astounding that he'd brought creatures back from the brink of death. He had saved Kuroko on occasion throughout their long history, but often the spell's requirements were beyond even Midorima's talents.

Kuroko sighed quietly. He remembered Midorima now, he'd been the man reading a newspaper in the café. The other customer was Aomine, who'd been absorbed with his cellphone, likely checking the statistics for whatever sport had currently caught his fancy. They generally accompanied Akashi, halfway between being his bodyguards and idle spectators to his machinations. With knowing that Murasakibara was still involved in the culinary works, he wondered about Kise, the only one he hadn't accounted for yet. The five of them were among the strongest of their kind and had been bound together as the Generation of Miracles from childhood.

While he didn't mean to, he fell asleep with that thought crossing his brain. It chased him through his dreams, that he was like them now. He truly doubted he'd reach their level, but he was no longer simply human and he knew it. Kuroko slept fitfully, with dreams of flying through the air only to crash into rocks alternating with seeing Akashi's smile and then the coldness of his actions to condemn others in their place.

What Kuroko didn't know, and what Akashi couldn't have guessed, was that Kuroko's powers would be very like him – a subtle form of strength that might not appear with the dizzying awe of someone like Akashi, but worked well enough for other ends.

Kuroko discovered this when he woke up because he was no longer in the room he'd gone to sleep in. The bed was the same, he even still had the soft robe that he imagined Akashi had put on him at some point, but the location was vastly different. He was in a cave, and that was all he knew. Oddly enough, his first reaction was not panic, but relief.