Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basket


Akashi

You watched the stadium explode in applause and cheers. Cheers, not for you but for Seirin. For Kuroko.

It's not the first time, you think, that Kuroko proved you wrong.

You had plans for middle school. Well-laid plans. And they were going as you expected—a small freedom that still let you appease your father; top grades; the regular shirt as well as the vice-captain title in your first year. Everything was perfect.

Then, he happened.

A boy so intriguing—striking light blue hair that should make him stand out anywhere, but that faded in the background and an expression so blank that still did not suppress a mix of feelings.

At that time Kuroko oozed defeat. He was giving up, but he was different and had potential, so you gave him a hint of what he could do.

(Much later he would tell you of how he would resign from the club and it's all thanks to you he still can play.)

Months passed, and you watched as he passed the ball and ran through the court, escaping everyone's eyes. You had expectations for him, but Kuroko surpassed them.

Somehow, pride swelled your heart.

From that day onward he kept doing that. He kept surprising you and giving you more than you asked for.

Not once, Kuroko failed to amaze you. (Even if it for was puking during practice and almost fainting or for picking a fight with Murasakibara, the tallest and strongest of them, because working hard is good and you shouldn't be demeaning them.)

That, however, never frustrated you. Not when he reserved you smiles brighter than anything, with more feeling than you could name and more depth you could imagine.

Kuroko messed your plans for Teiko, but you welcomed this unexpected with shared kisses and touches (you wouldn't be an Akashi if you couldn't deal with changes). So, you adapted and, in your scarce free time, meetings in the library, in empty classrooms and even in the clubroom happened.

It was a happiness and a warmth you haven't felt in years. It was the hope of a little more time together, the yearning of affection and the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

A truth never said aloud but very much obvious with how you two acted (your favoritism sometimes showing during practices). Still, you wondered... should you say something? Should you do something else? You did not know the answers because for so long—since your mother's death—emotions were an unknown field for you, as there was no one to help you understand them.

(Had your mother still alive would she be able to save you from yourself? Would she help and guide you through the... thing between you and Kuroko?

You believe, yes, she would.)

Those questions would come from time to time, but as always you would ignore them. You were perfect; there was no doubt you were doing the right thing.

(Besides, Kuroko never said anything either, so you supposed you didn't have to.)

Now, you understand that, perhaps, you should've said something, anything. Because all went down when the others started to bloom and you fell behind.

There was a deep rotted fear in you of not being enough, of not being perfect and being left behind. You were scared and confused; you felt alone and unneeded.

Instead of talking to Kuroko (he would listen to you and reassure you; he would be there for you), you acted.

Leave them before they leave you.

Hold them with an iron fist and not let them rebel.

Kill your emotions before they destroy you.

A mistake, really.

You destroyed and hurt the one who stayed by your side, who loved you. You lost Kuroko and pretended not to care.

(You cared, though. Too much, even. And more than once you woke up in tears, only to brush them off and lie to yourself.)

None of this was in your plans but you pretend it was, because you couldn't be wrong—you were perfect.

But you aren't and now you see it.

Kuroko is smiling and his hands are hot against yours and you know you missed this feeling. This time, it's him who gives you hope and not the other way around.

And this time, you know what to do.


Kuroko is already waiting for you in the stairs, the same one where you called the Generation of Miracles.

Somehow, even after everything you've been through there still exists the silent understanding.

You call his name—his surname—and he greets you, polite as ever. Side by side the two of you say nothing, watching people go.

As your heart beats faster and faster like you're still playing, you decide to talk before your courage vanishes.

"I love you."

"I know," he answers without missing a beat. "Akashi-kun is a dear friend of mine."

Somehow those words soothe your heart.

"You too, Kuroko, are a very important friend to me." You smile—a little and fragile twist of lips—and turn to face him. "We could be more."

Kuroko stares you and a heat burns your cheeks but not once you break the eye contact.

"It's gonna be a hard path."

"It will be worth it." You stop and then correct yourself, "It is worth it."

Kuroko hums in agreement, "It was worth it, too."

"I'm sorry." It's not enough, you know. It won't change what happened, but it's the least you could do.

He cups your face, coming closer, and smiles.

"We will make it work."

There was no kiss. Not yet. The memory was still fresh and it hurt. Kuroko hadn't forgiven you yet, but there was a chance and you were willing to earn it. You will give it time to heal so you can try again. So you can learn how to love again.

This time you won't stay silent.