Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.
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For Kagami, it's his first love.
He doesn't have much experience with love, really. In America, basketball is all he thinks about. Himuro had some girlfriends, and Kagami himself has had his fair share of flirting and interaction with the opposite sex, but nothing really major, nothing as earthshaking as Alex says turbulent affairs can be. He goes back to Japan intent on becoming the nation's best, and falling in love just happened.
If Kagami could have predicted, he'd say that his first love would probably be a delicate, sturdy kind of woman who could hold her own against his bullheadedness and keep him disciplined. Probably neat, raven-haired, and fair skin; he'd had his fill of the rowdy bronzed chicks back in the States. She'd look beautiful in dresses and stunning in his uniform and people would be jealous to see her in his arms.
So it's a little cheesy. Just because he's big doesn't mean he can't be romantic.
He doesn't think much of Kuroko at first sight, to be honest. Of course, he doesn't see Kuroko at first, though that's hardly surprising or unexpected. Kuroko is only a hindrance to his dream, which requires a skillful team to bring out the best of his abilities so he can crush the competition. When Kuroko introduces misdirection, it's still only a small blip on his radar; so the one with the weakest constitution on the team has a redeeming trait. It's still not enough to make Kagami fall in love, and he would have laughed if anyone had told him so.
All systems sound the alarm and crash anyway when Kuroko tells him he's his light. It sounds like the most roundabout confession Kagami's ever heard. He's heard more blatant admissions of love, said with more force and emotion than Kuroko's blank-faced promise to make him the best. But still, when Kuroko vows to be his shadow, his heart races and he latches onto the only perceivable emotion it could be: love.
He wakes up the next morning and concludes that his sanity must have slipped somewhere between Maji Burger and his house for him to think such things.
He's not too troubled to have considered such feelings about Kuroko. After all, Himuro said it himself before, there's other ways to love than with a girl, before…Kuroko's misdirection must have dazzled him, and he goes back to Seirin with the steady focus on basketball.
When he sees Kuroko at the window seat behind his in homeroom, and the boy gives him a wry smile and he looks out to see the confession – repeated – outside on the lawn, Kagami (never one to question himself) accepts the fact that he does, in fact, feel love for Kuroko.
One of the biggest differences between Japan and America, Kagami notices early, is the way they show emotion. His loud outbursts and wild expressions make the girls afraid and give him a rough demeanor. Japan is a fan of passive-aggression, if his upperclassmen are any indicators. In America, he figures he would know if a girl likes him, from the seductive ways she sits and talks, but in Japan, he must read between the lines and analyze.
Kuroko randomly appears, as expected for someone with such low presence, but Kagami observes that Kuroko often pops up much closer to him than his classmates do when they come to ask him for something. At first, he thinks he's just overthinking things and that it's just Kuroko's way to surprise people, but when Kuroko startles others, he stands at a polite distance so he isn't hit when they flail around once he announces himself. In his circumstance, though, Kuroko stands right close enough so that when Kagami grabs him once in shock, the boy stiffens and looks down immediately before mumbling out the message from Riko and shakes off Kagami's grip.
They're the team's only first year starting members, so it's not surprising that they spend a majority of their time together. It gives Kagami a lot of material to work with. Of course once you realize your feelings for someone, you've got to see if they like you too. Kagami isn't sure what he's going to do when he finds out whether or not Kuroko likes him back, but he'll deal with that when it comes. For now, the thought of liking Kuroko is flustering and watching Kuroko for telltale signs is a blessed distraction.
Through watching, Kagami finds a lot of endearing habits of Kuroko, such as playing with the tip of the straw of his vanilla shakes with his tongue before slurping down the drink in two swallows and licking his finger to turn the pages of the books he reads. For someone who tends to watch others and is glossed over, Kuroko has many interesting facets to him. He isn't overlooked because he's boring, but because he hides the interesting parts of him professionally well. Kuroko has a tongue of knives, shooting off comments that are offhandedly snide that the victim often doesn't realize until they think about them later in the bath or brushing their teeth. Still, Kuroko is a dutiful citizen, sometimes trailing after Kagami after school to pick up a piece of trash to throw away, and takes care to distribute food to others before eating himself.
It's not what he's expecting, but Kagami finds that his first love seems to just grow stronger each day. It makes him careless sometimes, so that he makes casual suggestive remarks sometimes that make Kuroko stare at him. He's used to being friendlily physical, as throwing an arm around a friend in America is commonplace regardless of gender, and it takes him a while to figure out his gestures toward Kuroko make the boy uncomfortable. Kuroko is too polite to tell Kagami to stop, although he does mutter unflattering opinions under his breath.
He's not inexperienced, but when it comes to Kuroko, Kagami thinks pretty chaste thoughts. First loves are revered like that, perfect, unblemished things. He makes certain he's completely alone before thinking about little things like holding hands with Kuroko or sitting with Kuroko in his coat (the guy is so small he can definitely fit in the small cavern between Kagami's chest and the front of his coat) because those things make Kagami flounder a little like a foolish love-struck middle school girl. He can handle meeting eyes with Kuroko (he isn't a middle school girl), though if the boy stares for a while, he does get uncomfortable and attempts to duck out with as much grace as he can muster.
Sometimes he wonders if he's interesting enough for Kuroko to consider, though isn't the light-shadow comparison hint enough? He doesn't know the extent of Kuroko and Aomine's interactions from middle school, and he doesn't really want to know, but they were close enough for Aomine to call Kuroko by his first name (early on, when Kagami was relearning his native ways, he called Kuroko Tetsuya and made the boy blush right to the roots of his hair). They're good friends, and the children of the Seirin basketball team, so it wouldn't be that far of a stretch if he confessed, right?
He's a boy learned well in the American attitude and doesn't think it worth his time to really dwell on things. The worst that could happen if Kuroko rejected him isn't too terrible and he'd only really remember it for a week or so – basketball is distracting – so it can't be that bad. Kuroko looks up at him quizzically outside the locker room after the rest of the team has gone home.
His childish and young tongue stumbles all over itself as Kuroko watches amusedly and it takes him several, painful tries to utter the simple line of I like you so let's date dammit.
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For Kuroko, it's his second love, so it frightens him and makes him cautious.
It's been a good two years since Aomine's broken his heart, so it's now okay for him to admit that he fell for his best friend in middle school without feeling a gut-wrenching despair and overwhelming embarrassment. In the process, he's wrapped himself tightly around himself, loving others but keeping them at arms distance. He keeps a tight lid and fierce discipline on his emotions, which isn't hard because he isn't naturally disposed to being an emotional wreck in the first place. All the same, he distrusts falling love, as the time passed from his first broken heart isn't enough to have strongly secured the pieces back together.
Aomine did start out as a friend. While he didn't always agree with Aomine's attitude, his energy and enthusiasm was attracting and despite his personality in high school, Kuroko is certain that Aomine has never lost the softie, marshmallow self he had during his early years of middle school. He isn't surprised Aomine hides it, because that would be hypocritical of him. He falls in love with Aomine because Aomine frets over him and genuinely cared about him and the attention made Kuroko sing happily inside. It's natural, after all, for humans to want to be accepted and loved. It's for the sake of survival. It's a natural reaction.
Of course, it's also painfully clear Aomine doesn't like him in that way. Science says opposites attract, but Aomine has the kind of personality that needs another equally strong temperament to work best. Kuroko sees all the flaws in their compatibility easily; he's accommodating and Aomine needs conflict to be satisfied. He's quiet and Aomine likes the room to be noisy or he'll make the noise. He's modest and studies and is content at home and Aomine likes being away, outside, doing a lot of things. It will never work, Kuroko knows, and regretfully begins throwing dirt over his feelings. Still, Aomine is a dazzling kind of guy and makes it hard, but he is content admiring from afar, and Aomine is a good guy at the end of the day so he'll be okay.
Aomine realizes his talent and leaves them all behind, and though Kuroko could have coped with having his first light gone, Aomine's philosophy seeps into the rest of the team and corrupts it and Kuroko's favorite place becomes something ugly he doesn't recognize. He goes about middle school confused and upset and when he realizes Aomine is the cause, his heart shatters into a thousand pieces.
He's unwilling to reject Aomine completely, so he levels the pillar he's placed Aomine on down to simple friendship and bolsters it with everything. He isn't going to make the same mistake twice, he decides, when he graduates and congratulates his teammates. First, he's going to show them in high school that their style of playing is flawed, and second, he's not going to fall so deeply in love again.
Kagami reminds him of Aomine. They have the same built and the same fevered love for basketball. He's the kind of guy who needs something to reflect, and Kagami seems to the best player on the team to utilize his skills, meagerly as they are. Akashi is the one who labeled them as light and shadow, so Kuroko describes it as he's used to. He thinks maybe Kagami's misunderstood him because the boy looks incredulous. He supposes later he could have phrased it better for Kagami, who knows nothing about his past relationships. The light-shadow relationship is literarily symbolic, of course. He's read a lot of books about such things. He decides he ought to change his wording, but a betraying tiny voice asks if Kagami can act as Aomine's replacement.
The thought is silenced, but festers until he weighs the comparison in his head during one boring Japanese History class (he's the best at it so he'll be okay). They have the same stubbornness, similar thinking styles, the same motivation. Kagami isn't Aomine, of course, but if Kuroko closes his eyes, he can pretend. The strong arm that reaches out at him when he scares Kagami (Kagami reacts the best when Kuroko sneaks up on him, so he tries to get as close as possible for the best shock factor) is Aomine's, and Kuroko flushes.
Kuroko tries to think like this, but the matter of the fact is, Kagami isn't Aomine. Aomine had mannerisms that Kuroko memorized and could predict, but Kagami isn't like that. He's a foreign animal that Kuroko isn't used to, one that isn't satisfied with his abilities and will fight itself to beat itself when there are no more enemies. Aomine laps up attention and gives back half of what he is given, but Kagami is someone who doesn't seem to realize that holding back is possible. He goes all out in everything and Kuroko watches him crash and burn, but instead of whining and deciding to do something else for a while as Aomine might have done, Kagami glowers and sulks and goes at it again. It makes Kuroko think about how Kagami might act toward him, working his hardest to win him over and looking after him afterwards, and Kuroko knows uneasily he's fallen in love not with a replacement for Aomine, but Kagami himself.
This time, Kuroko convinces himself of all the reasons why he and Kagami would never work out. He's accommodating and Kagami wants the team to work out, he pretends to be polite at first but he plays for the team…he's quiet and Kagami sometimes sits with him at lunch in the quiet and doesn't say anything about it…he's studious and Kagami comes over sometimes to study and…he can't really find any real good reasons and he's angry at himself for being blinded by love again.
Still, Aomine haunts him, because that did not work out, and Kagami, being who he is, isn't going to work out either, and that's the most convincing argument Kuroko has heard.
So he contents himself again that being Kagami's shadow is enough again. They still have two years for Kagami to leave him again and Kuroko shelters his battered heart from the sure storm. Being watched by Kagami is good enough. He'll make sure he isn't discovered this time. He hides it well behind a blank face and an unsuspecting display.
"I like you, so let's date, dammit," Kagami says.
In that second, Kuroko thinks about everything he's forbidden himself to think about, like spending time together alone with romantic undertones and being kissed and waiting patiently. He wants to be kissed. His bones tell him Kagami may disappear like Aomine, but his mind says basketball is a sport about taking calculated risks, and his statistics place a good end at about eighty-nine point nine percent. He's not good at math, but those are good odds.
Kagami is cute, waiting for his reaction with a red face and tense shoulders. He's warned again about the potential for disaster, but he overwrites it. You have to accept change to grow. That's what evolution is. And anyway, no matter how he's convinced himself, he wants to be happy too. Kuroko puts on his best brave face, which he knows is a little pink right now, and says yes.
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Note: gomen you had to deal with gross angst and stupid cheese...I wanted to write a KagaKuro after seeing all the pretty pictures on tumblr fuck my life...