Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basket is a dream to you, kiddo.
This is my first story on FanFiction, I hope you'll enjoy! :3 If you see any errors, please notify me; I'm still not that used to writing in English. And I welcome anyone who wants to beta my stories. Otherwise, bear with my mistakes.
I still can't decide: making it a whole story? Or just ficlet drabbles?
Warning: Gender-swap, follow the Teiko arc, and get inspired by "Miracles" of Mimma.
Happy reading.
Prologue.
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April.
As Kuroko Tetsuna remembered, it was such a day of blue skies when she woke up on the morning. And her grandmother had already woken up, cooking the breakfast. She knew it was stupid, really, but she couldn't help scanning around the house, trying to find the figure of her father.
She couldn't remember the last time he was home.
She helped her grandmon prepare for the breakfast, pouting a bit as the elder woman chuckled at her fail attempt to cook anything but eggs.
"You can learn later, dear."
Waving her goodbye, Tetsuna started going to school and had already planned what she would have done in the first day of junior school: taking lessons, taking notes, having lunch, and reading books. No one would pay attention, anyway.
At the moment, her eyes caught the glimpse of the park with the basketball court.
She had one more things to do, she supposed. There had been a promise that she must fulfill.
For Teiko Middle School, it was a busy day, too. Various booths were set up along the path that led from the main gates to the school building. Many of the seniors, armed with a large stack of flyers and plenty of determination, gathered on the path itself, hoping to catch their juniors as they walked by.
"Hey, do you like to read?" someone asked as the blue haired girl, Kuroko Tetsuna walked by. "How about joining the literature club?"
"This is a phonebook."
Turned out that he was asking another girl behind.
Kuroko Tetsuna just focus on walking ahead to find a quiet place to read the letter from her friend.
X
"DAIKI, WAKE UP!"
What's the most effective way to wake someone up from their slumber? Clock? Ringtone? Wrong, wrong, wrong. It's a mother's voice. And if you don't wake up immediately, you'll go to school with an empty stomach.
Aomine Daiki doesn't like it nor should anyone ask her about her name. What's matter if a girl having boy name? Just look at her childhood friend, his appearance screamed the world "girly."
(At least his name is normal.)
But it could be worse, Aomine grunted as she caught a glimpse of a pinknette walking towards her house. Satsuki's voice was even higher when girls if he wanted to be.
"Dai-chan, you stayed up late again, didn't you?"
"None of your business, and I told you not to call me that!"
He just smiled his ever innocent smile, that actually hid many evil meanings. She glared at him, trying to walk faster to Teiko Middle School. But even Aomine was, in fact, taller than Momoi Satsuki, he still caught up with her easily.
"So…" He started a conversation as they reach the front door of the school. "Have you decided that which club you're going to join?"
She sent him an 'are-you-stupid?' look, replied:
"Don't ask when you already know the answer."
"I don't think they have basketball club for girls, even Teiko Middle School is renowned for its basketball."
"Girls and boys are no different." Aomine said. "We still wear each other's clothes, Satsuki."
"It's a totally different problem! Jeez… just in case, though, I'll cook for you on match days."
"No thanks. I don't think I will be able to play on the match."
The dark blue haired girl felt she bumped into someone smaller, but when she looked to say sorry out of courtesy, she didn't see anyone.
"What's that?" questioned Momoi.
"Nothing, I suppose."
X
There're three groups of blonde.
A. Supermodels.
B. Extremely successful businesswomen, who should be supermodels.
C. The completely boring blonde, who just have to wait until their so-called hair turned gray.
Kise Ryouko, no need to ask, obviously belongs to group A: tall and beautiful, carried around herself the aura of a model.
Turned out, it's rather troublesome to get in the class, because she drew so much attention, much to the girl's dismay. Forcing her lips to form into a smile, Kise waved cheerfully at them. (She inwardly cursed her parents, her sister, her DNA, whatever that pulled her in that mess. But then, it wasn't her fault to be beautiful.)
And how comes there are many girls, anyway? Boys were easier to deal with, somehow.
Fangirls never see you sweatdropping because of their eagerness.
Kise couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh. This was going to be a long day. Or everyday would be long.
X
Murasakibara Atsumi knew it would happen: many sport club would definitely invite her to join them, just because of her height, which was one of the advantages.
Every year.
Every goddamn year.
How can no one understand that she hates being bothered by that?
"Woa! You're so tall!" Murasakibara heard someone exclaimed the familiar statement. "How about joining the volleyball club?"
The purple-haired girl scratched her cheek, "Eh….I dunno….maybe….." She sighs, "But it's such a pain~."
Murasakibara didn't know how they can be that persistent. Did she just refuse them?
And then, her eyes caught a familiar figure.
"Ah, Aka-chin."
The said person turned to her with a small smile.
"Murasakibara."
X
Midorima Shinako wakes up at six o'clock every day without clock or having her mother yell at her. (Her mother will never yell at her, by the way.) It had been her daily routine, even her first day of junior school couldn't intefere. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she run around for another twenty minutes before going home for breakfast and getting ready to school.
Of course, she can't forget to hear Oha Asa.
Rank: second
Lucky item: Phone book.
It didn't take her too long to prepare, after all.
"Enjoy your first day." Her father said, which Midorima nodded in response.
She didn't allow anything to go wrong in her first day of middle school.
"Hey, do you like to read?" someone asked, catching her right arm as she walked by. "How about joining the literature club?"
A scowl appeared on Midorima's face as she pulled her arm back, replied:
"This is a phonebook."
"Phonebooks are fine-Eh? Why do you even have that to begin with?"
She pushed up her glasses, "My lucky item. It's from Oha Asa-nanodayo*."
"Lucky item….?" And as if it was strange enough, he asked. "Nanodayo?"
Midorima was getting annoyed as the seconds went by:
"Do you have a problem with how I talk-nanodayo?"
"No… not at all."
"Good." She walked away.
The literature club wasn't her choice.
X
To Akashi Seika, that day was just like another day. First day of Middle School – it was no special title. They did have first day of Elementary School and would have First day of High School. She woke up as the clock went off, found in the walk-in closest her uniform, freshly pressed.
She wasn't surprised to know she would eat the breakfast alone. A butler stood discreetly at the periphery of her vision, awaiting possible instructions, as Seika finished her meal.
She had planned all the day, after all. Getting into the car, a bodyguard drove her to Teiko Middle School. Seika knew it might be reckless to disobey her father, but what he didn't know wouldn't harm him.
It wasn't like she would do something bad, after all: just quit the shogi club and join the basketball club.
As the car stopped, she came out, tucking the red locks behind her ears before instructing her escort:
"From today, don't fetch me to or from school anymore."
"But Miss Seika, your father said…"
"My father has nothing to do with it." She says coldly, and the man knew he should keep quiet. "Doing something like that everyday will stand out. And people will laugh." She turned on her heels. "At least give me freedom at school."
"Aka-chin." She heard someone call to her direction.
The only person to call her like that was the daughter of the baking shop nearby, who she knew from her childhood. Seeing her was enough for Akashi to allow a smile appeared on her face:
"Murasakibara."
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Review?
Review?
I hope to see your advise about making it a whole story or a ficlet drabbles.