Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke… no matter how much I wouldn't mind it being the case. With that said, I do not make any profit, either.

A/N: This is my first story for the Kuroko no Basuke fandom, and I'm really excited to start off with a MuraKuro. My brother, being the anime lover and basketball addict that he is, has been recommending KnB to me since the anime first came out, but I only got around to watching it recently (and reading parts of the manga, as well). Needless to say, I'm hooked. Hopefully, my portrayal of the characters isn't too OOC, because I love myself some intelligent Murasakibara (his best subject is physics, for crying out loud!).

In any case, enjoy!

Lavender Secrets

It was during an after school practice, nearly a year following their shocking loss at the last Winter Cup, that the Yōsen basketball team discovered a tightly kept secret few had been privy to beforehand.

The confession had come out nonchalant, each syllable uttered as lazily as the snack-loving teenager from whence the words had originated, yet had been no less surprising. Because one had to remember that this was Murasakibara Atsushi of all people, the generally indifferent giant who rarely spoke of his feelings outside of his stomach's desire for snacks.

Anyone who knew Murasakibara could only wonder about the motive behind such a seemingly careless admission.

"Oi, Atsushi," Himuro approached his fellow ace, toweling off the sweat running down his face, "Ready to do some drills?"

Said violet-haired center, eyes staring longingly towards the locker rooms where his snacks were waiting for him, answered absentmindedly, "Mmm... I don't wanna. Practices are too tedious when Kuro-chin isn't there to cheer me on."

Himuro paused, staring pointedly at his Yōsen teammate with one visible eyebrow raised in question. "Seirin's Kuroko? What is he, your cheerleader? You've been mentioning him a lot more than usual these days."

Murasakibara chose to ignore the words, too preoccupied with sorting out his own musings on the matter to notice that the rest of the team had overheard and were now openly gaping.

It was true, he conceded. Ever since their defeat at the hands of Seirin, Kuroko flashed through his mind more often than not. Admittedly, Kuroko occupied a special place in his life, and this since middle school. His schooling in Akita – so far away from the others, from Kuroko – prevented him from seeing the phantom player all that often. Rather, if not for basketball, he suspected he would see Kuroko even less, if at all.

The thought alone caused his heart to constrict curiously.

That was a first; usually, the idea of tasty sweets was enough to curb Murasakibara's thoughts away from his latest obsession. Yet, lately... he had been rather melancholic, unable to pinpoint the exact cause behind his recent low-spirited state of being.

All that he knew, was that it was triggered by Kuroko. The sight of vanilla milkshakes, which he used to gleefully drink alongside his former Teikō teammate, now made him frown.

It was lonely, drinking milkshakes at Yōsen, and this whether Himuro and his other current teammates were accompanying him or not.

There was merely one person he associated milkshakes with and that was the sixth Miracle player that had once acted as Teikō's pillar, a uniting agent, only to quit - abandon, he abandoned us, abandoned me - the team once their games evolved into something beyond what Kuroko could tolerate. No matter if the members of the Generation of Miracles had been bored, Murasakibara suspected, in his own blasé way, that all five of them regretted their actions to some degree. Because their shenanigans had pushed Kuroko to the brink, had left him feeling guilty for associating himself with them, and had ultimately driven him away from his beloved basketball. They had single-handedly broken his heart, and they had all paid the price once their sixth member, someone they all respected and valued keenly (a little too readily, in Murasakibara's case), had submitted his resignation, too ashamed and disappointed to be a part of them any longer.

Even Midorima, who was evidently the most innocent amongst them, was not subtle in the way he winced whenever the phantom player's name was said in passing.

Now Kuroko had long since forgiven them, cert, but Murasakibara still had lingering feelings of guilt that would manifest whenever he witnessed how highly Kuroko regarded his new light, Kagami Taiga.

Kagami Taiga.

He was another one that Murasakibara found himself to be unreasonably jealous of. At first, it had been Aomine. The way Kuroko's eyes sparkled whenever he and his old light fist bumped, how he smiled when Mine-chin commented favorably upon receiving his passes. It had secretly driven Murasakibara up the wall. Secretly, of course. Because displaying his displeasure outward was too much work, and really, it was nothing an assortment of his favorite treats could not fix. Only, it had been unfair that Aomine had been the one to receive so much of his undivided attention when Murasakibara, whose imposing height commanded attention, had been nearby, occupying the same space as them.

After Aomine, it had been Akashi, followed quickly by Kise (who was always all over Kuroko like some dog in heat), and Momoi. Moreover, the latter two had no qualms about hugging (read: glomping) Kuroko as close to themselves as humanly possible.

Murasakibara had always been tempted to do the same, if not for the fact that displaying affection so openly had never been in his nature. Inadvertently crushing Kuroko had also been a notable factor, he admitted to himself reluctantly.

"Hmm, I can't help it. I miss him."

Silence.

All members in attendance were rendered speechless, bodies shocked into stiffness.

Murasakibara? Miss someone? That was unheard of. He was as aloof and oblivious of his surroundings as they came. So, to have him say this...

"Atsushi, do you have... feelings for Seirin's phantom player?" Himuro asked tentatively.

The aforementioned teenager visibly bristled. "He was Teikō's phantom before he was Seirin's." His tone was guarded, defensive, the word 'mine' left unsaid yet obviously implied.

"But didn't he... you know, leave?"

Murasakibara blew his violet bangs away from his eyes in a huff, gangly arms crossing over his chest - the perfect image of a petulant child that refused to share his toys. "And?" His tone was dangerous now, daring anyone to comment. "Kuro-chin was ours first. That won't change. Ever. I'll crush anyone that says otherwise."

Again, the word 'mine' went unsaid, yet the possessiveness rang clear in everyone's ears.

Inwardly, Murasakibara was confounded by the words that had just come out of his mouth. Why was he acting so ardently protective of Kuroko, all of a sudden?

Unwilling to provoke the taller boy any further, Himuro nodded in understanding. "I see."

On her part, coach Araki, decidedly unimpressed if the way she had just brandished her shinai was anything to go by, was quick to warn him, "You better not let this get in the way of your play. So long as you keep performing well, I won't care. But the minute I see you going downhill, there'll be hell to pay. Got that?"

It was Murasakibara's turn to nod, having expected far worse from his usually strict coach. Maybe she could relate to what he was going through? Whatever the case might have been, the cry of a whistle rang shrilly in the air not a second later, marking the renaissance of their morning practice.

HOURS LATER

Thinking was exhausting, most times.

Sometimes, however, Murasakibara thought deeply – that is, if something bothered him enough to do so. His recent issue concerning Kuroko bothered him.

And so, he thought.

His mind wandered to a simpler time, when a young group of middle schoolers would walk home together after basketball practice, picking up convenience store popsicles along the way – exactly like Murasakibara was doing now, if not for the fact he was currently alone. Nevertheless, they would laugh, tease and badger each other to no end, until one of them received a well-placed kick to the shin or a vicious shove to the shoulder (for the most part, curtesy of one Aomine Daiki).

Those were the good days, the days where everything felt easy – no drama, no frustration, no hopelessness in the face of their rapidly growing talent – and where they could all play ball with or against one another and not be bored whilst doing so.

Murasakibara had first felt free when his own raw strength had manifested itself rather early on, impressing more than just the head coach and first string players. For a brief lapse of time he had been satisfied, dare he say pleased with himself.

Yet, his difference in strength with respect to his teammates had backfired soon after, leading him to restrain himself and restrict his newfound gift from blossoming further. He had been loath to admit how easy it would be to hurt nearly everyone else. He had been taller, shoulders broader, hands and feet wider, than everyone else. Kuroko had been a prime example of this stark contrast in size. Murasakibara had judged snapping the likes of Kuroko in half to necessitate very little of his strength.

Hell, merely sitting on Kuroko would have flattened the latter into a bright blue pancake.

He had had to be very careful, in that regard; using his full power had not been an option so long as it would pose a risk of injury to any of his teammates. He had taken this responsibility to heart, his sense of duty outweighing his desire to let loose and play as hard as he had wanted to.

Throughout his third year of middle school, he had convinced himself that, in the end, it would be worth it. It would be worth it.

It had to be.

It hadn't been.

ONE DAY LATER

Mind lost in a bout of daydreaming, he unconsciously stepped foot in a local ice cream parlor, eyes now skimming the large overhead menu mechanically. It was a specific flavor amongst many that snapped him out of his memory-induced rêverie.

Vanilla. The mere word prompted Murasakibara to wonder what Kuroko was up to. How his day was going. When they would play each other next. Murasakibara was well within his rights to request a rematch, but laziness always seemed to get the best of him, and letting things fall into place on their own most often had its perks.

And so, he entrusted his heart to fate, feeling deep in his bones that they would most definitely meet again. That was good enough for him. He would remain patient until then and, if the wait began to weigh too heavily, distract himself with his ever-faithful snacks.

ONE WEEK LATER, YŌSEN HIGH SCHOOL CAFETERIA

Murasakibara was picking at his food.

To repeat, Murasakibara, the 'stomach on legs', as some joked, was not eating, instead poking at the steaming dumplings on his plate in a disinterested fashion.

If most of his teammates had been in doubt as to the sincerity behind Murasakibara's confession the week before, they were now obligated to reconsider.

"Ah, Muro-chin, I'm full. Do you want the rest, or do I throw it out?"

That had the effect of stopping all activity at the table. The team ate lunch together regularly, and not once had they ever seen Murasakibara leave a meal unfinished.

'Something must be done', they decided as one.

That 'something' came sooner than they would have thought possible.

A practice game.

A practice game between Yōsen and Seirin.

It was just what they needed, or so they thought.

"Good game," Kagami grinned, visibly pleased as he extended his arm, hand in a loose fist.

Kuroko gladly fist-bumped his new light, pleased with the outcome of the game as well. "Yes. Good game, Kagami-kun."

Similar to the last time they had played against each other, it had been a tight game. In the end, however, Seirin had once more emerged victorious, albeit by an incredibly small margin.

Murasakibara was something of a mystery, an enigma of sorts, Kuroko mused while watching the former cry for a second time, hovering over Yōsen's bench in an effort to dissuade his teammates from approaching him in his moment of weakness.

The giant hid his intelligence under a guise of childish stupidity, of insatiable hunger, of graceless nonchalance, yet Kuroko and the rest of the Generation of Miracles knew better. It was just like how Kise hid his cunning nature behind a screen of disarming smiles, or how Midorima hid his true emotions behind stone cold logic and an impassive, dispassionate façade.

Murasakibara was different from the rest. He was the only one amongst the six of them that constantly claimed a dislike for basketball. Given this, one would have thought Murasakibara to be the last person to ever be permitted into the Zone. Until the previous year's Winter Cup, that is. Because Murasakibara had indeed entered the Zone, and Kuroko and the rest of the Generation of Miracles had been shocked at the time. They had each realized that the apparent dislike for the sport was yet one more thing they had been unaware of regarding their former center.

One could only wonder what else Murasakibara was hiding. With that in mind, Kuroko decided today would be the day he would find out for himself.

"Kuroko? Where are you going?"

Drat. Just when he thought he could sneak by undetected…

He turned to his ace, forcing himself to remain composed despite the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through his veins, "I was going to offer Murasakibara my thanks for the good game. Would you like to accompany me?"

"Eh? Yeah, sure. I guess I wouldn't mind talking to my bro, as well."

Murasakibara had finished crying by the time the duo reached the opposing team's bench, Kagami instantly running off to find Himuro, which left the former Teikō teammates alone.

"Murasakibara-kun, good game," Kuroko congratulated, eyeing the giant hopefully.

When Murasakibara remained seated, body hunched over and towel hiding his face from view, he was quick to grow weary. Perhaps now was not the time to –

"That was so mean, Kuro-chin," was mumbled from underneath the towel.

Caught off guard, Kuroko was now regretting his decision to speak with his former teammate. "Murasakibara-kun? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."

Murasakibara yanked the towel off his head only to throw it on the floor, scowling fiercely. "That was so mean, Kuro-chin," he accused once more, violet eyes conveying the extent of his anger better than words ever could. "You left and you didn't even say goodbye."

"I left? But I came straight here. I haven't –"

"No, not that!" he interrupted, tongue clicking reproachfully. "I'm talking about Teikō. Back then, you left without saying goodbye."

"I'm not following." The shadow player was at a loss. In what way did their Teikō days have anything to do with today's match?

"Tch. You piss me off so much, Kuro-chin. Why do I even love you?" His eyes immediately widened, a strange combination of realization and regret surfacing where there was once utmost frustration.

Blue eyes now just as wide as their violet counterparts, Kuroko felt his stomach drop, heart beating furiously within his chest like a caged hummingbird. "I… excuse me?"

"Nothing. Good game," the Yōsen player offered quickly, shooting to his feet only to bolt towards the changing rooms.

Had he waited a fraction of a second longer, he would have noticed the blush creeping steadily over Kuroko's fair features.

The first week following the ill-fated match passed by agonizingly slowly, so it seemed to a sulking Murasakibara Atsushi.

He had omitted checking his phone for fear of seeing a possible text from Kuroko. The last thing he needed was the latter's pity, or worse: rejection.

He hated living like this, morally down in the dumps and eating hard for comfort. It was rare for him to take so long to recover from whatever challenge life sent his way, but it was more unusual for him to eat and not enjoy it. He was the sort of individual who derived pleasure from food, especially his beloved snacks. So to have remained stuck in this rut after all this time…

It spoke volumes.

There was no denying it; he truly did harbor romantic feelings for his Kuro-chin.

Ah. Maybe he should reconsider calling Kuroko 'his' when that was not the case. Oh well, he would work on that once he was done polishing the tub of chocolate ice cream he currently had in his possession.

He had been studiously avoiding the pint of vanilla sitting patiently in his freezer. He had been avoiding anything with the word 'vanilla' printed on it, for that matter. It only reminded Murasakibara of a certain someone, which served to merely break his heart further. He grimaced whilst thinking this; he reminded himself of some romantic lead in a soap opera.

He hated how love had reduced him into a mere carcass of his former self. He was never this bothered, never this emotional. He bounced back from all kinds of turmoil readily enough, and had never been the type to pine uselessly after another like some lovesick maiden. He was generally apathetic about matters of the heart, and that had suited him just fine up until then. He had always thought romance to be troublesome, anyways.

In the end, Eros' golden arrow had struck its intended target, and Murasakibara was most certainly paying the price for it, each of his thoughts more nonsensical than the last.

Ugh, stupid Kuro-chin! It was all his fault!

A knock at his front door brought him back to reality. Living alone in Akita, away from his family, meant he answered the door every time, as uncommon as visitors for him were. In fact, the only person that would dare disturb him this late in the evening would be –

"Muro-chin? I wasn't expecting you. What brings you here at this hour?"

Himuro was careful not to grin, explaining with a pleasant tone of voice, "Oh, you know. I've just come to bring you some sweets. The usual. By the way, you have what appears to be chocolate ice cream on your chin."

"Hmm…" Murasakibara lazily wiped the remnants of his latest snack with the back of his hand. "What did you bring me this time?" he eyed his teammate curiously. "If you say jellybeans, I'll crush you," he was quick to add, memories of super-sized bags of the candy still fresh in his mind.

The older teenager disregarded the mock threat readily, chuckling all the while. "Ah, not this time, unfortunately." He winked when Murasakibara merely rolled his eyes, "This is something special, sent to me from Tokyo by a dear friend of mine."

This seemed to pique the giant's interest. "Eh? A special snack? Is it some sort of new flavor?"

"No. It was homemade. That's what makes it special."

"Then if someone took the time to prepare something for you, why would you want to give it to me?" A violet eyebrow was raised skeptically. He felt like there was a catch to Himuro's sudden appearance at his doorstep.

With the most innocent expression he could muster, the older teenager explained reasonably, "Because it wasn't meant for me."

"Huh? Then who is it meant for?"

"You, of course."

The violet-haired Miracle frowned, not appreciating Himuro's cryptic words in the slightest. "Muro-chin's being difficult again. I don't like it when you play mind games with me."

This left the American returnee chuckling once more. "Aren't you going to ask who sent it?"

Violet eyes shrank into slits, his suspicion growing with each passing second. "Muro-chin, this isn't funny. Just spit it out already."

"Ah, ah, ah." Himuro waggled his finger in reprimand. "Now where would be the fun in that?"

"I didn't take Muro-chin to be the sadistic type."

"I'm not being sadistic. I'm merely following instructions. I was asked not to divulge the name of the sender right away. But since you're taking so long, I'll give you a clue: Taiga sent it to me on his behalf."

The reaction was instantaneous, like a bucket of arctic-cold water had been dropped onto his head. Murasakibara was quick to snatch the package out of Himuro's grasp, carefully lifting the lid like the box's contents were precious, which they were if Murasakibara's assumption regarding the sender proved to be correct.

Homemade white chocolates. It was nowhere near Valentine's Day or White Day, but the violet-haired giant did not mind in the slightest. His Kuro-chin had made him chocolates. Each piece was a different shape from the last, and vanilla-flavored if the scent now wafting pleasantly through the air was any indication. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, heart positively melting.

"Aren't you going to try one? Taiga told me it took Kuroko many tries before he deemed this batch to be perfect. He seems to know your tastes quite well."

In response, Murasakibara placed the lid back on. Violet eyes were soft, fondness shining through.

"Atsushi?"

"I can't eat these," he admitted in a whisper, evidently awestruck. "Kuro-chin made them, so I can't eat them. They're too precious. I have to keep them somewhere safe, instead."

The words left Himuro dumbfounded. "What kind of logic is that? Kuroko went through the trouble of perfecting them until they were good enough for you to eat. It would be a waste if you disregarded his efforts by not eating any."

He slowly shook his head, "I disagree. I want to keep them forever, so that I'll always be reminded of what Kuro-chin did for me. It must have taken him hours, to first collect all the ingredients, to adjust the recipe again and again and again until it was just right. He must really value our friendship if he went through such lengths. Or he's just feeling sorry for me, but I know Kuro-chin well enough to know that he wouldn't do this sort of thing out of guilt. He would have apologized to me directly if that were the case."

"I'm not so sure he made these out of friendship."

"Hmm?" Murasakibara reluctantly pulled his gaze from the box, instead meeting Himuro's uncovered eye. What he saw there made him pause.

"A word of advice? I suggest you book the earliest train to Tokyo, Atsushi." Himuro then rested a hand on each of his fellow ace's shoulders, expression serious. "Go to him. He waits for you."

If there was one thing that people ought to know about Murasakibara, it was his inherent pig-headedness.

'He's so frustratingly stubborn', his Yōsen teammates thought during practice, two weeks following Himuro's failed intervention.

Their center was still sulking, refusing to hear a mere word regarding anything that had to do with Kuroko. It was getting to the point where even Himuro could not get a word in edgewise, which had the effect of generating tension amongst the entire team.

"Atsushi."

Murasakibara slowly turned toward the source of the voice, dribbling lazily. What he saw on coach Araki's face made him gulp. "Yes, coach?"

"Since your mind is visibly elsewhere today, as it's been for the last three weeks," she muttered the last part to herself, "you're going to be doing laps around the school until I say you can stop. I will not have you disrupting practice and unwilling to cooperate with your teammates over a crush. Do I make myself clear?" She had warned him that there would be hell to pay should he go downhill. Let it never be said that Masako Araki issued empty threats.

"Yes, coach."

"Good. Now go."

It was like a weight was lifted off each of their chests once Murasakibara left the gym, the ambient air seemingly less heavy.

"Coach?"

Araki turned toward her interlocutor, unsurprised as to who it was. "Himuro, what is it?"

"I think you've realized for yourself that something needs to be done about Atsushi. I tried convincing him to go to Tokyo, but he won't have it. He's completely in denial, and obstinate to boot. I've been forwarding each of Kuroko's packages for the past two weeks, and all he does is hoard them. You should see the stash of uneaten sweets in his room. It's quite the disturbing sight given the fact he usually devours anything he can get his hands on."

"Is that so…" she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. What a mess. Murasakibara was the last person she would have expected this from. "I agree. Something must be done. If he won't go to Tokyo, then… perhaps the other way around will work. I will entrust you with contacting Seirin. See if their phantom player can miss practice to travel to Akita. This has gone on for long enough." She was about to turn away when a thought struck her, "And if worse comes to worst, we'll just have to trick Murasakibara into going. Enough is enough."

Nodding, Himuro (along with the rest of the team who had been eavesdropping until then) could not agree more.

MEANWHILE, IN TOKYO

The boy with lavender hair, Murasakibara Atsushi.

Kuroko had always liked the smell of lavender well enough. Naturally, it could never replace his beloved vanilla, but the day he had met Murasakibara had been a revelation, of sorts. He had immediately been reminded of the many flowers that matched the mysterious boy's hair: hydrangeas and lilacs and soothing, ever-fragrant lavender.

Back at Teikō, this sweet-loving boy, of the same age, yet so very, very tall – he felt minuscule in comparison, as if Murasakibara would require a microscope to see him – had seemed to be leagues away from him in skill and crude strength. How was Kuroko to compete for first string when someone like that had been in the mix. He had opted not to think about it, knowing only too well that dwelling on such matters would be futile; those who attempted nothing received nothing in return.

Lately, however, Kuroko's opinion of his former teammate had gradually shifted into something that was… unfamiliar to him. He was entering uncharted waters at this point, he realized. Yet, he could not bring himself to worry.

He had felt warm, when those heart-stopping words had reached his ears. Murasakibara loved him, and Kuroko had felt beyond flattered. Although, it had been for the best that Murasakibara had left when he had. Otherwise, it was unclear what Kuroko would have answered had the other expected an immediate response.

Now that he had been given ample time to sort out his own feelings on the matter, Kuroko had reached a definite decision. Murasakibara's feelings were requited, that much was certain. Kuroko would do everything in his power to get that through to him, even if the homemade goods he had been sending for the past two weeks were proving to be ineffective.

It was with this in mind that he answered Himuro's call.

"Himuro-san, hello. Any progress?"

A sigh from the other line. "Hello to you, as well. And I'm afraid not. He's been avoiding everyone, including me. The only time he allows me near him is when I have one of your packages. Speaking of this, do you think your coach would allow you to miss practice in order to travel to Akita? I think I speak for everyone when I say we'd be very appreciative if you could get Atsushi to stop sulking. Team morale has dropped quite a lot in recent weeks."

"I thought as much. I'll see what I can do. Will that be all?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Goodbye." Kuroko pressed on 'end-call' once the dial tone met his ears. What Himuro had told him was worrisome, to some degree, but not surprising. He doubted coach Riko would allow him time off for something that was not directly harming Seirin, but it could not hurt to try.

With that settled, he prepared for bed. Tomorrow would be a taxing day.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Coach, it will only be for a day. Upon my return, I promise I will double my training to compensate for my absence."

Riko hummed in thought, making a grand show of seeming unsure even though she had long since made up her mind. "Make it triple and we've got ourselves a deal."

"Thank you, coach."

And that was that.

Not a single person in the room could recall a time they had ever seen Murasakibara run as fast as he was right then.

It was like someone had lit his shorts on fire, and he was attempting not to get burned.

Practice at Yōsen had been going on as usual: a five-minute warm-up, followed by some active stretching, cardio, and then drills. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for the fact there was a stranger in their midst.

Why Kuroko had decided to show up for this particular practice, Murasakibara did not know. Well, perhaps he had a slight inkling as to the reason for the phantom player's visit. Whatever the case might have been, it had scared Murasakibara witless. He was in no way ready to confront Kuroko right now, and so he had fled.

Perhaps trying to outrun a determined Kuroko had not been his best idea to date, he inwardly conceded. His sheer size had made it easy for Kuroko to keep track of his every movement, regardless of the latter's lack of stamina.

In his haste, he had forgotten the hallway he was running in would lead to nothing but a dead end. He felt like a sitting duck, trapped and cornered with no way out – not until Kuroko was finished with him. He dreaded what would happen next. Kuroko hated being purposefully ignored by the people he was closest to, of which Murasakibara was a part of.

Labored breathing reached his ears from behind him.

Kuroko had found him. The way sky blue eyes were now narrowed unnerved him; his Kuro-chin was rarely this expressive.

"I never would have expected such callousness, Murasakibara-kun. Running away not once, but twice. I thought you to be more considerate than that."

He was, normally. It was just that, feelings were complicated, and love made people do unexpected things. He remained mum, however, not wanting to anger Kuroko any further.

"You haven't responded to any of my peace offerings. I had assumed I would at least receive a word of thanks. I was not even sure you were receiving them until Himuro-san told me otherwise."

This prompted Murasakibara to speak, shocked, "Muro-chin was in on this? Is that why you're here?"

"Your entire team was in on this, Murasakibara-kun," the shorter player replied evenly.

"Ah. How embarrassing. I guess I have been acting like a brat, lately."

"It is only normal. They were worried about you." Kuroko anchored his gaze to the floor, suddenly bashful. "I was worried, too."

It was in this moment that Murasakibara thought he could die happy; Kuro-chin was so cute, acting so shy! He wanted to capture this moment so he could remember it forever. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to take a picture. If only he had his phone with him.

Before he could make a run for it (maybe he would be able to reach his locker, where his phone was located), Kuroko's next words made him pause:

"I would like to take this moment to answer your confession, Murasakibara-kun. After all, this is what I came here for. With that said, please bend down, and close your eyes."

Ah. So this was it then. No more running away.

Resigned to his fate, Murasakibara complied with the request. What he expected to occur next was nowhere near as pleasant as what Kuroko had in store for him.

Warm lips met his, Kuroko conveying the entirety of his feelings in that single action. And by God was Murasakibara going to take advantage of it.

He kissed Kuroko – his precious, adorable Kuro-chin – in return, moaning all the while. Instinctually, his arms encompassed the smaller body, pressing it to his own. Each and every sensation was perfect. Large, touch-starved hands roamed freely, caressing almost every available surface: a slender neck, a slim waist, basketball-strong shoulders, and the silkiest hair he had ever carded his fingers through. It was incredibly easy, for Murasakibara to lose himself in the moment. And who could blame him, really, when he had been wanting to do precisely this for who knows how long.

(His heart was singing. The thrill of kissing Kuroko, of enclosing him into his arms, this was bliss. And he never wished to part from it, from him. He would stay with his vanilla darling for as long as Kuroko would have him. He would cling to his every kiss and succumb to the love-drunk stupor always, gladly.)

Life had a way of shattering one's fantasies, however:

The kiss ended much too quickly for his liking, prompting him to grunt in obvious displeasure.

On the other hand, the angelic voice that graced his ears made it all better:

"Murasakibara-kun, you should probably get back to practice. Your team is waiting for you." Kuroko fished his cellphone out of his pocket, checking the time. "I should be heading back as well. I promised my coach I would return to Tokyo by tonight, at the latest."

Murasakibara's previous giddiness instantly morphed into that of disappointment. He felt entirely too unstable, like a rug had been pulled clean from right under his feet. "Already? But Kuro-chin just got here. Can't you stay a little longer?"

The shorter teen shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I would never encourage any boyfriend of mine to skip practice. Basketball is sacred, just like vanilla shakes."

The violet Miracle felt his heart abruptly stop. Boyfriend. His Kuro-chin had just referred to him as his boyfriend. He felt warmth spread slowly from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. "No way am I going to go back to practice when my Kuro-chin is with me, saying such cute things." With that, he proceeded to lift Kuroko onto his shoulder, long legs striding towards the exit with the intent of leaving school grounds as quickly as humanly possible.

Face resting comfortably against the giant's back, Kuroko could not help the way his lips curved faintly upwards.

The walk to Murasakibara's home had been a short one, made up of amiable chatter, secret smiles, and much handholding.

They had just passed the threshold, Kuroko committing the address to memory; he planned on visiting his Murasakibara-kun very soon.

They crashed on the leather couch occupying most of the taller teen's living room, bodies warm and limbs pleasantly meshed together. They found quiet comfort in the way their hearts beat in sync, breaths slow and even, nearly soporific.

Murasakibara was surprisingly the one to break the silence:

"You know, Kuro-chin. You're the redemption I never thought I deserved."

Kuroko looked to him curiously, genuinely caught off guard, "How so?"

"Hmm… Well, you forced my hand into showing my true feelings for basketball. I wasn't entirely sure if it was real myself until you compelled me to enter the Zone."

When silence was reinstated between them once more, Murasakibara settled on laying his head atop Kuroko's, pressing a quick kiss to his crown. He wondered, not for the first time, how it was possible for one's hair to smell like vanilla yet look like cotton candy. He then proceeded to wonder if such a thing as vanilla cotton candy existed. He made a mental note to keep an eye out.

It was like this, warm and relatively at peace with the world around them, that they succumbed to slumber.

Hours later, when Himuro took it upon himself to check in on the pair, he was struck speechless upon discovering his teammate clutching one Kuroko Tetsuya to his chest. He was reminded of a fearsome dragon guarding the most valuable of treasures. Needless to say, he found the scene endearing, secretly wishing them everlasting happiness.

Both Seirin and Yōsen could wait for the latest developments concerning the new couple. For now, Himuro would let them rest, careful to close the door softly on his way out.

La Fin

A/N: I just adore Murasakibara. He's the main reason I fell so readily in love with KnB. He's such an interesting character, and I love that I got to explore his personality traits further through my story writing. I don't have a particular dislike for any KnB pairing, but MuraKuro is definitely my favorite. It doesn't seem to be all that popular though… but that's okay! I'm used to liking unpopular ships XD

Edit: I wrote this before I watched Last Game, so excuse the fact that Kagami is still in Japan rather than back in the States.