Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke. I wouldn't be a poor student if I did.

Hi! I've been deliberating on posting this story without a Beta first for a few months now. I've currently got five of fifteen (I think?) chapters ready to go, so I'm just going to put these first few up weekly and see how it goes. I've got a lot on my plate at the moment, so other projects are taking the backseat for now. It felt wrong to leave this unpublished. So, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of 'I Still Don't Understand Why You're All Obsessed With Balls'! Let me know what you think- I love receiving reviews and PM's!

- Yuilhan

I Still Don't Understand Why You're All Obsessed With Balls

1. I (Mostly) Don't Speak the Language

Recently I've gotten really into some music totally different to what I usually listen to. I mean, 'Vaporwave? 'Future funk'? What the hell is all this stuff- guarantee you've never heard of it. Neither had I, really, but I'm keeping track of additions of it to sharing sites. For the most part, it seems like a total joke. Most of this stuff uses samples and prehistoric J-Pop tracks from the 80's and 90's, which is honestly really fitting because of what's going down in the next few weeks. While I'm still going to be sharing some of the things I find with you all, I've also decided to keep you posted with what's going down while I'm studying abroad. Of course, Mum wants me to keep her posted too, but typing to you all is so much more interesting. I'd give her the web address if I wasn't so protective of this site, but she doesn't get it, anyway. She agreed to let me stay in a foreign country for a year, but she can't understand that I really like music to the point where I just have to share my opinion on the internet? Guess something got lost in translation there.

20:15 PM, 23.3.2012 – robinrobin . blogspot . com

Two of the four bedrooms were taken, I noted; my suitcase rolling down the hall behind me as I stuck my head round each doorframe. I finally chose the free one right next to the bathroom; setting my case down on the bare bed with a sigh.

This wasn't turning out like I had planned at all, truthfully. My Language teacher at school had convinced me that perhaps this would be an interesting experience for me, considering my apparent aptitude for Spanish and French so far. I wasn't so sure; I found it all rather simple to learn, but Japanese was on another level to boring old 'Un café, s'il vous plaît'. My parents seemed to think it was a good idea though, and thanks to the school co-operating with the Study Abroad service, I was quickly guaranteed a chance to live and study in Japan. Study Abroad, Leah, they said. It'll be fun! They assured.

The stress I had to go through was immense though. My teacher approached me midway through my last year of GCSE's, and informed me of a program running that allowed high school students to take an academic year of study abroad. Because I'd found two of three languages I had and was currently studying pitifully easy thus far, they thought, hey! Why not add another into the mix? I needed roughly one year of formal Japanese lessons with a tutor and some intense self-study before I could even qualify for the scheme, and added with the mix of AS courses and exams, I was just about wiped out when I received my N3 qualification. (1) But I'd made it, and was currently in a foreign country. Whoopee.

Things hadn't exactly gone to plan though ever since I'd left Narita Airport. My Host Family had not been present there in order to escort me to their home, and while I had their details and address on hand I still struggled to find my way there. Thankfully one passer-by with rudimentary English skills had pointed me in the right direction, and after a few mishaps with the subways and bus services, along with a two-hour long introspection session on the train as I travelled to my destination, I soon found herself stumbling along the road through a rather posh suburb in Kanagawa. After I'd flagged down one more stranger and showed them the Host Family's address in order to receive some form of direction, to my surprise the stranger- a middle aged woman, or so I could discern (for the woman had only a faint few age lines creasing her face), straightened in recognition. I followed her as the woman had beckoned me to do so; wheeling my noisy suitcase behind me and shouldering my carry-on bag. The woman motioned for me to wait at the gateposts of one large house while she carried on walking. Waiting somewhat awkwardly by the roadside until the woman came back from… whatever it was she was doing, I made sure to recheck the info package about the Host Family which I'd placed in my bag. I was definitely in the right place. The lettering on the mail box matched perfectly to the characters on the printed sheet of paper I'd highlighted in advance for ease of use. Past me obviously expected future and present me to get lost, a lot. Past me was right to be paranoid.

Still, this would be a hell of a story to type up for my blog if I made it through the Academic Year, even if said blog was supposed to be about music.

The woman waved to me on her way back, something small trapped in one hand while the other dragged an apathetic looking preteen with her back to my side. The faint jangle of keyrings clued me in that she carried some keys with her, but why the kid was in tow I had no idea. The woman motioned for me to take the keys with a garble of lyrical words I couldn't even begin to discern. My arms staid stubbornly and dumbly by my sides.

"Okaa-San says that the Kobayashi's are out of the country," the kid announced with a fluent, if accented English accuracy. I knew that word, 'Okaa-San'. It was a term of address for 'Mother' from the basic Japanese course I'd taken before flying out here, along with various, soul-destroying anime series I'd watched. The preteen was this lady's son. "She's got the spare key, so she's going to give it to you so you can get in the house-"

"What do you mean they're out of the country," I whimpered, feeling panic rise within me. The young teen shrugged. He turned to his mother and barked something to her, to which she sweetly replied in whispering, genteel tones.

"Okaa-San's going to give them a call. She said to go and get settled in, 'cos there's no one at home there right now, and then we'll come and let you know what's going to happen." I could feel my mouth pop open in shock; could things get off to a worse start than this? The woman gently placed the house keys in my hand, folding my fingers around them securely.

"Oh, if you need anything in the meantime, we live two down from you," the kid continued with a bored, and yet somehow condescending tone. "If that's too much of a task for you, try asking round for the Yamada's."

While it was obvious the kid's mother- Mrs Yamada, or 'Yamada-San' I suppose, didn't quite understand all that her son had told me, his tone was enough for her to slap him gently on the shoulder, tut, and shake her head. The teen merely rolled his eyes.

Yamada-San bowed beautifully in goodbye, her son dipping his head after her prompting before they twisted away and walked back to their home. I scrambled to do the same, dropping my carry-on bag and keys as I dropped into a flustered bow.

This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Unpacking my things took a shorter amount of time than I first anticipated. The room was far bigger than I anticipated too, and its lack of personalisation (as a guest room is want to be, I suppose) had me feeling even smaller. The benign white walls and sturdy pine furniture would swallow me up if I wasn't careful. With a wary glance to my scant few belongings scattered about the room, I stepped out into the hall. As I had noted before, two of the four rooms up here were taken. One was a sprawling master bedroom. Light and airy, with monochrome streaking through it. These masculine touches clashed somewhat with the delicate floral hangings and accessories; a pert potted orchid arched over a pristine white leather jewellery case. This was obviously the married couple who headed my Host Family's room. Any other belongings were hidden behind sliding screen panels. Not an item was out of place, and no dust lingered on any of the surfaces despite signs of their absence.

The next room I entered was just as bland as mine had been, though traces of blue shot through the room in the bed linens and a simple glass vase situated on the windowsill. This made me regret moving into the room I had chosen, considering it had no such character unlike this one, but then I remembered how close I was to the bathroom. Should my Host Family return, or should I need to dash for the loo during the night, I was unlikely to get lost within this huge house. It was literally three steps down the hall. I couldn't bungle that one up.

The final room had more personalisation than any I had seen before. Posters hung in an obsessively neat formation, framed in dark wood and finely polished glass. A dark grey fabric-covered noticeboard stretched across the wall behind a long, sleek writing desk. The latter of which adjoined to a plentiful storage unit that now had no spare space left, for it was littered with masses of novels, what looked like manga, DVDs, and games. A geometric bedspread, in various shades of greys, blue and red, remained plumped and untouched. My Host Family had a child then; possibly older than myself, due to the rating of the games and DVDs.

I felt more than a little nosy poking around these rooms, I admit. But I was bored. While waiting for my situation to improve, I reasoned that I could always try and wangle my way around the television and DVD player controls. While I presumed most of the film titles were for Japanese shows, I spotted a few that looked familiar- and more importantly ones that I could understand. It would bring some sense of comfort, and if I put them back from where I had found them it wouldn't be intrusive, right? It would be like I hadn't touched a thing.

I filed that little titbit away for later, because it was growing dark now and I doubted my hosts would be back any time soon. Moving my way downstairs, I entered a small parlour. This had a low table set above a small pit beneath it, and was sectioned off from the rest of the house by sliding screens. It looked a lot like a traditional Japanese set up, and with a nervous bite to my lip as I took in the sight of a chair-shaped cushion, I wondered whether I would see normal four legged chairs at all while I stayed here. I got pins and needles after about four minutes of kneeling on the ground, so how could my wimpy self last if it was expected of me all the time?

Thankfully, the next room I entered had both a large western-style dining room table and chairs, as well as a cosy looking sofa and entertainment system. The open plan lay out of the room led me into the kitchen; another monochrome and hyper-technical beast with commands I had no hope of deciphering and using for myself.

Beyond it all, through the kitchen window, I saw a well-kept garden. Entering the hall again from a side door at one end of the kitchen, I meandered down it. There was a coat rack just by the main entrance, and closer to the kitchen, a small utility and washroom.

A sudden rap on the door had me almost leaping out of my skin. Hesitantly heading to the front door, I turned the key in the lock. I'd made sure to lock the inner door before I went upstairs, but there was little I could do for the outer door that lead into the main porch. Yamada-San and her son were waiting patiently behind the door as I opened it.

"Konbanwa," the woman greeted with a polite bow. I scrambled to copy her. Her son snorted in amusement at my display. "Noboru," Yamada-San snipped, and he lost his attitude.

Noboru handed me a large plate wrapped in cling film; "It's not much, but Okaa-San didn't know whether the Kobayashi's had anything in the pantry for you, considering they're away. She's spoken to them on the phone, and they're going to call the landline here in about half an hour to sort the details with you."

"Oh, erm…" I fidgeted with the plate in my hands. "Would you like to come in?"

"We're good thanks. Hope you get sorted soon an all, and try not to starve in the meantime," Noboru deadpanned.

"Thanks," I snapped back, before flustering and mouthing a shy 'Arigato gozaimasu' to Yamada-San. Her pleased smile was a sight to behold; it masked the aura of middle-agedness spectacular.

They left me then, and I quickly locked the door once more.

Beneath the cling film lay some varied onigiri. The fillings looked alright; perhaps Yamada-San was considerate enough to realise some of the Japanese… delicacies weren't exactly going to suit my palette as of yet. It was incredibly thoughtful of her to put these together, especially since I was a stranger. It only made me feel reassured. So far in my experience abroad with no one there to support me, the Japanese general public had been outstandingly courteous and helpful. I would have to fully commit to speaking in my mediocre Japanese now though, or at least, try to. I couldn't just expect everyone around me to speak my language; and while Yamada-San didn't look offended in the slightest, others may if I didn't at least try to make the effort to converse with them in their native tongue.

"Oyasumi nasai," I muttered, taking a hearty bite out of one onigiri. Of course, it was too late. The mother and son were most likely halfway down the street by now, and would not be able to hear me bid them goodnight as the sun began to set over the city. Flavour assaulted my tongue as I took another bite of one of the onigiri.

Hm. Tuna.

Not half bad.

The conversation with the host family did not go as planned.

It left me feeling even less secure and alone than it had before. Kobayashi-San, or rather Akiko-San (as she had instructed me to call her so), took great delight in regaling me with tales of their holiday home and the plans they had had. Not only for a getaway trip she and her husband had planned for their anniversary, but also of their plans for me living with them for a while. It appeared that in their haste for celebration, they had mixed up the dates for when I was arriving. How one could possibly mistake it for the year after, I don't know, but I also didn't want to pry. This was supposed to be a happy, trouble free time for them. Their son was away at college, and while he kept a room in the dorms there, he could just as easily commute from home. He simply chose not to bother with a train journey every morning when he was within walking distance to lectures. To me, it really just sounded like he preferred the extra half an hour in bed every morning, but I wasn't about to tell them that. Sleep was sacred, after all, and you did everything you could to get more of it every day without the use of napping.

While the Kobayashi's were more than happy to fly back in a heartbeat, I convinced them to stay in Okinawa. This was their special time, and I'm sure I could muddle about until their trip was over.

They then informed me they had intended to stay in the southern isles of Japan for six months; having retired early and saved a lot of the salaries up over the years, they could live comfortably or always take up freelance work if they needed to. With no commitments in Kangawa, they had intended to only come back as the autumn and winter chill set in.

Somewhat dismayed with the prospect of being alone for so long with only Noboru to talk to, I voiced my worries. Akiko-San and Itachi-San agreed that it was far too long for me to muddle through things by myself, and proceeded to assure me that they would send their son, Takumi, to act as a guide in the meantime. This was, however, the son living away from home.

Akiko-San told me she would convince him otherwise, and I took her word for it. Her voice had a dreaming, lilting quality to it, but it did not lack a mother's authority. I could picture her clenching her non-phone-holding fist clenching in determination as she became determined to send Takumi home. Itachi-San chuckled in the background, and I couldn't help the smile that flitted across my features.

"I still feel dreadful for leaving you," Akiko-San wailed down the phone. "Are you sure you don't want us to come back- or you can join us here."

"It's fine," I said. "I've got school to go to soon, so as much as I'd like to see Okinawa I really can't. Please don't cancel your trip- you did say that Takumi-San was going to check in on me, right?"

Akiko-San sighed. "Yes, I'll tell him to come right away!"

"I'll be absolutely fine then. Mrs Yam- Yamada-San, has been really helpful too; and her son speaks English, so I can go to them if I get stuck."

"I can always count on Matsuko to save the day," Akiko-San chirped. "She's pleasant, isn't she?"

I hummed in acquiescence.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? You have our contact number for our holiday home now, so feel free to call us if you need us- even if you just want to hear a familiar voice. Please keep us updated with how you're doing in school too- in fact, just keep us updated. We'll try and get back as soon as we can, okay?"

"I will do, Akiko-San."

We talked for a while longer. Just pleasantries, and inane subjects like how I'd found my journey so far, and how I was liking the country. But it soon grew late, and I could hear the fatigue in both my own and Akiko-San's voice. Itachi-San was a quiet spectator to the conversation for the most part, occasionally inserting his own concerns or questions about my life at home. They also told me that after the next couple of times they called and checked in on me they would slowly start phasing out speaking in English; in that sense, I would be forced to pick up a fluency with my Japanese.

Knowing that as the call disconnected, both intrigued and terrified me.

For the most part, English was my crutch. Basic qualifications in both French and Spanish, alongside a spattering of German, wold not help me out while I was half the world away from those particular countries. I knew that I would have to up my pace with integrating myself into the language and culture here, and while part of me was eager to do so, another longed for the overcast days and clement, passive-aggressively polite citizens of England.

It was another item to add on to my building list of things to improve on. Such as making this huge house feel less lonely, and somehow twisting Noboru's arm into escorting me to the High School I would be studying at for the duration of the academic year. Something told me- perhaps his weirdly apathetic and bristly nature, that Noboru wouldn't go quietly. Perhaps Yamada-San would take pity on me and coerce him into leading me around for a bit. Just until I got accustomed to daily life, of course. Though if the teen had any more sarky quips tucked away in his hoody pocket, I may just make it a regular occurrence.

(1) I did a lot of research into how one qualifies for a study abroad scheme in high school, factoring in Leah's age. She's just turned 17 in her first year of A-Levels, so still qualifies for Studying Abroad schemes (or at least, a fudged equivalent of a CIEE scheme). The general route of UK student is to take GCSE's, then A-Levels, before moving on to University, an Apprenticeship or some form of stable employment. Leah has essentially added another accolade to her belt by taking her JLPT- resulting in a N3 qualification, rather than a module based assessment from exam boards such as Edexcel, WJEC or AQA, to name a few. This means she can read, listen and converse in Japanese at an Intermediate Level. Again, I've just tweaked a lot of resources to fit the story. In no way does this promote or follow the set guidelines of a pre-established Study Abroad scheme.

Originally posted [5.11.2017]

Edited [6.11.2017] - My thanks to beta vulgaris for the review, and for alerting me to some potential mistake. These have now been fixed (I hope), and I do agree with you about the state of this site's reader. I could be worse however. It could be AO3 or Wattpad's... *shudders*