Warning: Spoilers for Chapter 236 (first quarter of the finals in Winter Cup). But the spoilers are in the first few paragraphs only, and what happens after that is my own imagination figuring out a way for Kuroko to get around his ex-captain's taunts. The next few chapters are likely to render my pet theory about Kuroko obsolete, so I figured I'd write this one quickly and post it now.

"When you found your own way of basketball in Teiko I told you to train only your passing and not learn any shooting or other skills. Do you know why? That's because I knew if I let you learn them your special ability (Lack of Presence) would totally be faded away in the future. Vanishing Drive, Phantom Shot, how could you not get any attention from those fancy techniques? The buzzer beater you scored in the semi-finals was also the killing shot. Only because you emitted a dim ray of light, you can no longer be a shadow anymore." Akashi gave Kuroko a cruel smile. "How funny that the peak where you ended up, is the same place where you first started. At the level of a third string player."

The rest of the first quarter, those final few minutes of it left at least, were brutal for Seirin. Without Kuroko's misdirection working, and with that shocking news, Seirin was demoralized. Truthfully, they didn't even know what to say to Kuroko to even try to fix this. What was there to say to something so word-shattering like that?

And Akashi's words, they realized, were true. Kuroko was completely visible, both to every player on Rakuzan who rendered him completely obsolete, and to the audience who began to ridicule the small player.

Riko pulled Kuroko off the court for the second quarter. Kuroko sat away from his teammates, who let him, not knowing what to say to him or how to help him. Little did they know, Kuroko was already figuring out a way to help himself. Or more correctly, he'd already figured out a way. It wasn't something he wanted to do at all . . . but there was really no choice.

Before the beginning of the ten minute break between the first and second halves, he covered his head with a towel and slipped away from his team, hurrying to the bathroom.

If he was honest with himself, he'd had a suspicion that it was going to come down to this. He hadn't known for sure, and he'd hoped it wouldn't . . . but now he was certain that this was the only way.

His lack of presence disappearing wasn't the problem. Kuroko realized that almost immediately after being benched. As though something he'd been trying his whole life to overcome could be blasted away on accident, right when he needed it to continue the most. The very notion was so ironic that he hadn't even thought about how unbelievable it was. But when he did, Kuroko realized that Akashi had been lying.

He shouldn't have put it past his ex-captain, he knew. Akashi would do anything to win. Whether it was lying, or training his team to be hyper-attentive to Kuroko's unique light blue hair color. And Kuroko realized now that Akashi had done both.

Unfortunately for Akashi, Kuroko hadn't left Teiko without taking a little bit of their motto to heart. 100 battles, 100 victories. In other words, do whatever it takes to win.

Those words were in Kuroko's mind as he turned the faucet of a bathroom sink on full power and held his head as close to it as he could, cupping the water in his hands and splashing it over his hair. He worked as quickly as he could, knowing his time was short. Pale blue water seeped down the sides of his face as the pastel dye from his hair dissolved and disappeared down the drain.

A minute later, just as Kuroko heard an announcement made about half time beginning, he straightened up and turned off the water. Before looking at the mirror, he carefully reached for his right eye with two gentle fingers.

A part of him protested this, even more than what he'd just finished. He loved his eyes. His fake eyes, that is. Those baby blues had made him stand out more than even his hair, or so he'd always believed. Unfortunately, they were just as fake. And now, more than ever, Kuroko couldn't afford to stand out. It was time to go back to being faceless and unknown, and utterly unrecognizable. Completely unremarkable.

The reflection that stared back at him in the mirror was just that.

Black hair, like that of over 99 percent of Japan's population had. Black eyes without luster or any sparks of life, that no one would give a second glance to. A face with no distinguishing features, that was completely forgettable. Kuroko couldn't even recognize himself.

"It's been awhile," he told his reflection softly, and even though he saw his reflection's mouth move exactly when his own did, at just the right time, he couldn't really believe that it was him speaking.

The door opened just as he finished towel drying his hair, and in walked Midorima and Takao. Kuroko stared into the mirror and tried to meet Takao's eyes with his reflection. This wasn't the first test he would have preferred. Takao's hawk eye was couple levels up from what he'd prefer to start off his tests for how effective this really was. But if he could fool the hawk eye right off the bat, then couldn't he slip past anyone?

He saw Takao's silvery blue eyes flit over him, over everything in the rest room. They zeroed in on the towel Kuroko had just set aside. Then they skimmed right over Kuroko, completely missing both him and his reflection.

Bingo.

Kuroko hid a smile, remembering that for this to work best, he had to hide all emotions. But inside his fighting spirit was crackling like a campfire.

He left the bathroom and entered the hallway. Almost immediately, someone almost ran into him. A quick step saved Kuroko from a trip to the floor, and he reminded himself that he had to be more careful than he had been. When his hair was blue, people had seemed to register his presence on an unconscious level and subconsciously avoided him. But before he'd dyed his hair, back in elementary school, walking down a hallway or down a busy sidewalk had always been a battle.

The trip back to Seirin's locker room proved to be a monumentally successful test run. He slipped past numerous players he recognized, including Tsugawa and his sempai from Seihou, and the remainder of Shuutoku's team. He walked right through the middle of Kaijou's team, brushing against a depressed Kise, and ducking under the punch that a worried Kasamatsu delivered to Kise's side to try to snap him out of it. He cut through the narrow space between Hanamiya and that other genius on Kirisaki Daichi's team, without either of the high IQ teens even noticing.

Murasakibara almost inadvertently crushed Kuroko as he was walking by. To get out of his way fast enough, Kuroko accidentally ended up tripping Himuro, whose path he had to cut across.

"You alright, Muro-chin?" Murasakibara asked carelessly, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Why'd you trip?"

"I don't know," said Himuro. "It was like I ran into someone, but . . ."

Murasakibara, familiar with this scenario, immediately straightened and looked around. "Kuro-chin?" he called, scanning the crowd right around them.

His eyes passed right over Kuroko's, and for a second Kuroko thought he'd been spotted. But then the second passed and he realized Murasakibara hadn't seen him at all.

It hurt a little, but not as much as getting knocked down by Aomine did. That was the final test. Kuroko was surprised how many test runs he was able to get in, just on his way to Seirin's locker room. Then he realized why and felt a little bad. His friends were out looking for him. They were worried about him.

Aomine and Momoi were camping in the hall outside Seirin's locker room. They were talking with Kagami when Kuroko approached, and to Kuroko's great surprise, they were talking civily.

"Seen any sign of him at all?" Kagami asked, a worried and annoyed expression on his face.

Aomine shook his head, looking very troubled.

"The others are keeping an eye out for him too," said Momoi. "Midorin and his friend with the hawk eye are in the south hall where the bathrooms are, Mukkun's keeping an eye on the snack vendors, and Ki-chan's spot checking as many different places as he can think of."

"Just go back to your team. Make sure you guys have your head in the game, or I'm seriously going to kick all your asses," said Aomine. "Tetsu's going to be fine. He'll be back when he's ready. So you better keep playing like you want to win, and make sure there's something worthwhile for him to come back to."

Kagami returned to the locker room. Kuroko waited before following. He wanted to see if he could open the door and walk in on his own without being seen, instead of just slipping in after Kagami.

"I'm really worried, Dai-chan," Momoi said as soon as the door closed behind Kagami.

"I know. If it was just basketball, it would be one thing," said Aomine, in a voice that Kuroko had never heard him use before. "But this . . ."

"This is about Tetsu-kun's whole identity," said Momoi. "And he stands to lose everything he's worked for. If he loses basketball forever because of this . . ."

Aomine's eyes suddenly looked frantic. "What? What does your data tell you he'll do?"

"I don't . . . I . . ."

"Satsuki . . ."

"I can never predict what Tetsu-kun will do," said Momoi. "But a normal person wouldn't survive it."

Aomine's eyes turned to steel. "Then we're lucky Tetsu's not a normal person. He'll come out of this fine. Or we'll find a way to fix it for him. But damn, I can't believe Akashi going this far."

He turned and started walking then, and walked right into Kuroko, who he knocked right off his feet.

"Whoa, sorry . . . wait . . . what . . ." Aomine looked around, and even looked down at Kuroko who was at his feet without seeing him. "Huh?"

Momoi, like Murasakibara, knew what this was an indication of. "Tetsu-kun?"

They looked around, but neither saw him. Kuroko picked himself up and slid to stand beside the door of Seirin's locker room.

"I could have sworn . . . but no, there's no way that could have been him," said Aomine.

"Not now," agreed Momoi, her eyes glittering with tears. "Not now that he's lost his lack of presence."

Kuroko almost spoke up then to tell them that wasn't true. He hated leaving his friends looking that morose. But he was worried that if he broke his ghost act now, he might not be able to start it again. It wasn't rational, and he knew it, but all athletes were superstitious to some degree, and Kuroko was no exception. And this was for winning the championship for Seirin. This was for his team. Aomine and Momoi, and the rest of the Generation of Miracles could endure being worried for half an hour, Kuroko decided. He'd spent months worrying about all of them, after all.

No one noticed him when he slipped silently into Seirin's locker room, and caught the end of the team's pep talk. No one noticed him fall in right behind the freshman trio. And when the third quarter started, no one noticed him on Seirin's bench. Not his own team. Not Rakuzan's team or the audience. Not even Akashi. Kuroko felt his ex-captain's Emperor Eye pass right over him like he wasn't even there.

It wasn't until midway through the third period when a time out was called, and Kuroko joined his team for a huddle that they realized he was there. Kiyoshi found him out when he almost stepped on him.

"Oh, sorry there – Ah!"

"It's alright, Kiyoshi-sempai," Kuroko said in his usual deadpan way.

Everyone stared.

"Who are you?" demanded Riko.

"What are – Kuroko?" Kagami recognized him quickly, thankfully.

"Please don't shout my name," Kuroko cut them off. "That would only draw attention to me. And I can't afford that right now."

Kagami looked like he wanted to either hug him or throttle him, but knew Kuroko was right, and he couldn't afford to do either.

"How long have you been there?" he asked instead.

"Since the beginning."

"Kuroko," said Hyuga, in his clutch personality's tone.

"I joined you in the locker room at the end of the break. I've been on the bench since then. Testing a theory."

"Oh," said Riko, a sly grin spreading over her face. "I see. It's not your lack of presence disappearing that let Rakuzan see you. It was your distinctive hair color. I get it. They trained specifically to notice it. So you snuck off to dye your hair and . . . wait, where the heck did you get black contacts on such short notice?"

"That's not completely right," said Kuroko. "I didn't dye my hair. I washed the hair dye out. And I took out my colored contacts. This . . . this is the real me."

Everyone stared.

"Does Akashi know?" asked Riko.

"I don't believe so. He's never seen me like this."

Kagami glomped a hand down on top of Kuroko's head, grinning ear to ear. "This is great. He'll never see this coming. Let's put him back in, Coach!"

"No, not yet," said Kuroko quickly.

"We'll put him in at the start of the fourth quarter," Riko agreed. "That way we won't draw attention to him. If we sub him in, all eyes will be on him."

The timeout quickly ended. Seirin's team went back out. And Kuroko found himself sitting between Koganei and Furihata this time, rather than alone at the end of the bench.

"You know, Akashi really should have seen this coming," said Koganei as play began again, and, without any explainable reason that the crowd or their opponents could think of, Seirin's fighting spirit picked back up.

"What?" Fukuda asked.

"Kuroko being an ebony," Koganei said. "I mean, look at all the others in the Generation of Miracles. Their names, their hair colors, and their eye colors. Everyone else's all match up. And he never thought it was strange that Kuroko's didn't?"

"Well . . . why would he? It's not like anyone planned for things to work out that way," said Furihata. "This isn't a manga or anything."

"If there were, there'd be some really cool background music playing right now," said Kawahara.

"No, that would be if this was an anime," Koganei argued.

Kuroko kept his expression carefully blank as he listened to his teammates banter back and forth. But inside he smiled.

Akashi frowned as he realized something was different with Seirin's fourth quarter lineup. He scanned the players, taking note of each one, trying to figure out what was different. Kagami was there, grinning like a maniac. Kiyoshi too, smiling like an idiot. Hyuga had the glint of a psychopath in his eyes, and a smile that promised pain to his opponents. And Izuki, looking cool and ready for anything, though a little bit of an I-know-something-you-don't-know look was creeping into his expression. That was everyone. Wait, no. Mitobe was on the bench. So their fifth was . . . wait, what was going on?

"Sei-chan? What's wrong?" asked Kotaro.

Akashi ignored him and looked around hurriedly. The fifth man, where was he? Who was he?

Then he saw it. Even with his Emperor Eye, he'd somehow missed it at first sight. There he was, Number Eleven, hanging back just half a step away from Kagami.

But Eleven . . . that was Kuroko's number.

Akashi stormed over, not sure what was going on. But this person, this ebony-haired boy was definitely not his former teammate, and if they'd given Kuroko's number to another member of their team in the middle of a game, well the thought made Akashi angry for reasons he didn't even know.

He grabbed Number Eleven and spun the shorter player to face him. "Who are you?"

"Hey!" said Kagami, immediately angry and about to intervene.

Opaque black eyes regarded Akashi. They were set in a somewhat familiar face. Even their shape was a little familiar. But the hair framing that face was so different that it completely transformed its owner. And there was something about those eyes. Something flat and utterly forgettable. Something dead. Or not dead. Dead would have been disturbing and memorable. This was more like it had never been alive.

Then Number Eleven answered.

"I'm obviously Kuroko Tetsuya . . ." he said, his face completely blank and expressionless, but hiding untold depths of irony. " . . . Seijurou."

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