3

It was still dark outside when Kuroko woke for the second time. Careful to not jostle the others, he stood from the blankets and stretched. It felt good to wake under the open sky; the wind was fresh and cool and pinks were just beginning to dust the blues. On bare feet, he stepped over his friends, who were sleeping like logs, and headed to the elevator, planning on making a quick stop at the bathroom before telling the others to rise and shine.

Feeling taking a walk, he went down to the bottom floor, where there was a restroom open to the general public. To get there, he had pass through glass doors to go outside and walk across a little park area where the younger patients would often play. It was nearly deserted save for a few balls lying around and a boy on crutches, standing on the mini-basketball court.

Kuroko paused at the glass doors, his electric blue eyes on the person he knew to be Aomine Daiki, and suddenly, a great urge to knock the crutches away seized him. They were so out of place in that scene, on that basketball court, in that boy's hands. Even more strongly, he wanted to wipe away the backdrop the hospital provided. There should be a crowd there; Aomine should be holding a basketball; his silhouette should be proud, not slouched over in defeat as it was at that moment…

Although Kuroko had never seen Aomine handle a basketball, he knew that it was there on that court that Aomine belonged.

Kuroko turned around, feeling that disturbing Aomine's peace would be extraordinarily rude. Besides, going to the bathroom was now not number one priority; he had new plans.

Meanwhile, the nurse at the reception desk glanced around quickly to check if the coast was clear. No one was in sight. Sighing in relief, she raised her hand to her nose. Something inside had been bugging her all morning, and, unable to simply get up and take a bathroom break, she had been simply itching for this moment of solitude. Being dark outside, hardly anyone was walking around at this ungodly hour—so, now was her chance. The glorious moment of relief was about to come; her finger neared her nose and—

"Excuse me."

Almost shrieking, the nurse jumped, bringing her hand down so hard that it cracked against the desk. The blue-eyed boy watching her winced in sympathy as she moaned aloud.

"C-Can I help you?" she gasped out, eyes watering. Damn those boogers.

The boy's look was very vague, so she couldn't tell if he'd seen what she was just about to do or not. She hoped not. The boy was very good-looking; oh, how embarrassed she felt now. She resolved to resist any future temptations to pick her nose in the epiphany that she might meet her soul mate while on desk duty—and it just wouldn't do to have her first meeting with her soul mate consist of nose-picking.

"I'd like to request a check on a patient called Aomine Daiki."

"Ah, Aomine-sama isn't taking patients," the nurse dismissed. "He said something about too many people trying to get on his good side to have connections with his father."

"I didn't come for that," the boy said blandly.

"You didn't?" the nurse said, peering up at the boy. Oh, yes, he was very good-looking indeed. She liked that shade of blue very much. She shook her head. She had to stop these sorts of thoughts at work.

"No. I wanted to know when his walking therapies, if that's what you call them, are scheduled."

"Oh."

The boy gave her a miniscule smile, and suddenly, her face felt very hot. She fanned herself and popped open the first button on her uniform.

"Right. Aomine Daiki, right? Just to make sure you're not an assassin or something, can I ask why you'd need this information?"

The boy shrugged. "I wanted to visit him and help him out during his rehab sessions."

"That's very sweet," the nurse said, already pulling up Aomine's schedule. "Are you a friend of his?"

The pause made her look up to see a rather bemused expression on the boy's handsome face.

"Yes. I am."

Something about the way he said it suggested that he would like to add on a 'or I will be soon,' but the nurse chose to ignore it. Hotness prevailed over any discrepancies observed.

"If you have a device I can transfer the information to…"

"I left it in my room, sorry. Could I have a paper copy?"

"Of course."

From a slit in the wall, a paper shot out. The nurse caught it deftly and handed it to the boy with a sweet smile.

"There you go."

"Thank you." He turned to leave, but stopped abruptly. "Uhm, I'm sorry to say this, but…" Sounding very apologetic, he said, "You were speaking aloud the entire time."

Before that new piece of information could fully process in the nurse's head, the boy was gone.

She put her head down on the desk and cried.

"Good luck, Kise-kun," Kuroko offered to the jittery Kise, who was currently bouncing up and down on the bed.

"Ah, I'm so nervous," Kise wailed. "What if they get it wrong? What if they mess up and poke my brains out by accident? What if—"

"Will you be quiet for two seconds?" Midorima crabbed, scowling fiercely. "Thanks to all of you, I have a massive headache right now from sleeping on such a hard surface—mmf!"

Takao had grabbed Midorima's mouth. "Aw, don't be a spoil sport, Shin-chan. At least be supportive of Kise-chan before he goes under the knife. I know you for one were scared poopless—"

"I was not!"

Takao grinned and poked Midorima's face. "Yeah, yeah, say what you want." He turned to Kise and slapped him on the back. "Don't wet yourself, now! Sorry we can't stay, but Shin-chan wants to go see his parents, and I'll be going with him. We can all hang out later! Let me know how it goes; I gave you my FlareID, right?"

"Ah, no," Kuroko said, taking out a rectangular device that consisted of four sleek panels of tempered glass. The panels could slide out to double or quadruple the size of the phone. The sight of it reminded him of his grandmother, upon which thought he smiled. It had been a gift from her to him on his sixteenth birthday.

"These FlareX things these days," she said as Kuroko ran his hands over the device. "Back in my days, the iPh*ne was all the rage. And then came the SKY revolution in 2020—ha! The iPh*ne looked like a joke."

Takao dug around in his pocket, clicking his tongue. "Damn, it fell apart again… I have to go buy myself a new one, but they're so expensive, geez." Tongue sticking out, he fiddled with two pieces of glass, jamming them together. He ran a finger over the glass in the shape of a star, and the glass went opaque, turning into a screen. He tapped the device against Kuroko's, and Kuroko's lit up with a photo ID of Takao before fading into transparency again.

"Oh, I'll give you Shin-chan's too."

"Don't give that out to just anyone, idiot!"

"What, we're all friends here, right?"

Grumbling, Midorima handed Kise a yellow handkerchief, saying something about how it was his lucky item for the day. They departed with a salute, and then Kise and Kuroko were alone together again. Kuroko laid a hand on Kise's shoulder.

"It's about time. You'll be fine, Kise-kun."

"You think so?"

"Maybe."

"Noooo…"

With a chuckle, Kuroko led Kise across the bridge connecting the apartments to the hospital. There he met Furihata who was looking even more hassled than he had sounded a couple days ago. He nabbed Kise and trotted quickly away.

Kuroko watched their elevator descend a few dozen flights before he pulled from his pocket the paper he'd received from the nurse. He meandered along the 33rd floor until he ended up in front of a yellow door. He knocked twice before entering.

Right away, he almost ran into a man who seemed to be adjusting to a pair of metal legs, but he managed to sidestep and avoid a small accident. The room was filled with these sorts of people. One lady in the corner was bench-pressing over two hundred pounds with a pair of silver arms; a small boy was just beginning to stand from a wheelchair. Evading detection was a specialty of Kuroko's, so he slipped through the public rehabilitation center and into the private sectors without a single pair of eyes catching his presence. He wandered around a bit until he arrived at his destination.

He slipped into the room, invisible, as he was prone to be, and sat in a chair, twiddling his thumbs as Aomine Daiki clamped his hands onto a rail and tried to walk. It was a miserable attempt. There was no nice way to put it. Aomine fell over, was helped up by a patient-as-a-rock therapist, and started over. Kuroko was beginning to get a little bored, rethinking his decision to be here.

"Now then, just take it slowly. No, don't put your weight into your arms so much, that's called cheating."

"It's called making my life easier," Aomine snarled. He was starting to work up a sweat.

"Would you like to take a break? It's been an hour already."

Aomine waved his instructor off, promptly falling down again. With a scowl, he clambered back to his feet. "You can go. I'll stay here and… try again."

Looking all too pleased to take his leave, the instructor whisked out of the room without noticing the shock of bright blue hair in the corner. Kuroko quietly got up and walked behind Aomine, who was concentrating hard on moving his right foot. Unable to get Aomine's attention, Kuroko coughed lightly. Aomine jumped.

"What the—what are you?! Are you actually some evil spirit who's haunting me?" Aomine spluttered.

"I'm a little hurt by that."

"Well—then, why do you always pop up out of nowhere?! Can't you show up normally?"

Kuroko shrugged. "I've been here for the past fifteen minutes."

"Why."

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. Is that a crime?"

Unable to say anything to that, Aomine grumbled and turned back to the rail. "So you've watched me struggle with moving a leg for the past fifteen minutes? Strange interest you have there."

"No," Kuroko corrected lightly. "I've been watching you not give up for fifteen minutes."

"What?"

"I've been watching a marvelous display of very strong will," Kuroko explained without explaining much, as evident by Aomine's expression.

Then the dark-skinned boy nodded his head and said, "So, in other words, you've been creeping on me."

"No."

With a sigh, Aomine sat down, finding it difficult to remain standing for so long. Kuroko joined him with a soft plop.

"Why are you here, really."

"I came because I wanted to tell you that I think it's still possible for you to play basketball."

Aomine's head snapped so quickly Kuroko thought it had broken. The other boy's eyes were tumultuous with emotion, twisted between anger, hurt, hope, and distrust. But in a second, it all melted away into a bland mask.

"Ah, I know what kind of person you are now," Aomine said, his voice carefree yet dull, a strange combination that gave Kuroko the notion that Aomine was reining back his anger. "You're one to tell me to never give up while believing that I'll never succeed, aren't you?"

Taken aback, Kuroko tilted his head a little as his eyebrows furrowed. "No."

"Then you must be one of those people who take joy in giving me hope and then seeing me suffer."

"…No."

"Then you must be a complete retard," Aomine concluded with an exasperated sigh. "You saw me. I can barely stand, let alone walk. Playing basketball again is out of the options."

"I don't think so."

"Well, you can hurry your 'I don't think so's and your ass out of here," Aomine said. "I gave up on basketball a long time ago, anyways, so I'm not interested in hearing your pep-talk, if that's what you came here for."

"What do you mean you gave up?"

"I mean I gave up," Aomine said harshly. "I can't play anymore, so that's the end of the story. I'm out of here; you're pissing me off."

Aomine moved to retrieve his crutches leaning against the wall, but Kuroko darted out his hand and grabbed the other's arm.

"I said, I'm out," Aomine snarled. He shook Kuroko's grip off. "And don't come near me again, you hear?"

"I'll be back tomorrow," Kuroko said.

With a you really just don't listen!, Aomine left on his crutches, slamming the door behind him. The automated response mechanism activated, and the door caught itself and slid shut gently. With a shrug, Kuroko got up and brushed himself off.

That night, Kuroko dreamed that he was walking down a corridor made of dark, rich, polished wood, belonging most likely to an ostentatious mansion he could only dream of setting foot in. At the end of this corridor, he could see, underneath a beam of light, a tall clock that shimmered gold and silver. Gait slow and deliberate, Kuroko was allowed enough time to observe the rich decorations lining the hall. A white marble statue laced with bands of grey and black of the highest quality with the most delicate stone wings but a headless body; a painting depicting a strange city in the sky that emanated a golden halo; a massive bird made of what seemed to be pure ebony flecked with gold and rubies with its wings spread directly behind the clock. Kuroko wondered if his dream body was new to the mansion, for it seemed to take its time in settling its gaze upon each of these relics.

Finally, he reached the end of the corridor, which widened into a circular room. Save for the black bird and the gold-and-silver clock, the walls and the room itself were bare.

The clock itself was a masterpiece, able to stand impressively alone even without the bird behind it. It was reminiscent of the old, near-extinct grandfather clock Kuroko had seen in the house of his grandmother. Its wooden body was so polished and light that it glowed gold in the spotlight; a single golden hummingbird hid itself in the delicate leaves of silver hanging off silver vines crawling up the wood.

Behind these leaves was a glass lid under which a pendulum swung. A mirror behind it let Kuroko see a pair of black-trousered legs that belonged to his dream body.

The face of time was covered by a sheet of glass imperceptible to eye. It gave neither glare nor shadow underneath the light. Below this protection, time's hands traveled resolutely, undisturbed past the golden ticks that marked the hour.

This clock is important.

If he could have done it, Kuroko would have blinked.

Where had that thought come from?

Suddenly, his field of vision swayed—he caught a glimpse of the mirror behind the still-swinging pendulum—there was pain blossoming in what felt like his shoulder—

Abruptly, Kuroko found his consciousness being sucked away from the dream and back into reality, much like how the pain of grabbing glass had woken him up. Kuroko scrabbled to hold onto the edges of the vanishing dream—this was important—why it was hurting, he had to know—

By chance, his dream body looked up, directly into the mirror, allowing Kuroko one glance—

—Then, he was staring into the darkness of his room, left with nothing but a perturbed sensation and the final vision of that boy with red hair and familiar mismatched eyes kneeling and clutching his shoulder out of which stuck a silver knife.

"I'm sorry I can't come with you, Kise-kun," Kuroko apologized.

It was the day after Kise had gotten his sight back, a truly splendid moment for both. The moment he had recognized Kuroko's voice coming from Kuroko himself, Kise had pounced on the smaller boy, sobbing loudly and saying oh, wow, I can't believe I'm actually seeing this! Kurokocchi, you're more handsome and manly than I'd thought! They had stayed one more night in their old apartment, and then Kise had invited Kuroko to go sight-seeing with him for the whole day. But, Kuroko, having other plans, had regretfully declined. He explained Aomine's situation to Kise, who looked mildly disappointed but responded with a cheerful grin.

"Ah, geez, cut it out already, Kurokocchi," Kise said. "That's about the fifth time you've said it already. Don't worry! I'm not offended or anything."

"I know… I still feel bad, though. After all, I did promise you that I'd take you around…"

"Don't sweat it," Kise said, ruffling Kuroko's hair. "Being able to see your face is good enough for me. You're pretty good-looking, I gotta admit…"

Kuroko smiled. "You, too. I'm sorry again."

Kise threw his hands up in the air. "Are you asking me to get mad at you? I already understand that this is pretty important to you, so don't worry. Takao went ahead and messaged me to say that he and Midorima would join me on the Teikou tour and that he's pretty bummed that you're not coming along, but… that's besides the point! I'll be fine; you go ahead and do your thing. I promise that by the end of the day, I'll have found a sweet apartment for us to rent out, and then we can hang together all the time and take another tour with Aomine when he's all better."

"If he gets better…"

Kuroko looked shocked at his own words and glanced nervously at Kise, who, to his surprise, was laughing.

"What? Kurokocchi, have some faith in yourself! You're doubting yourself now of all times after you went ahead and made up your mind?"

"Sorry, I just… Was it… arrogant of me to say that I would help him get better?" Kuroko mumbled, fixing his eyes on the ground. Kise grabbed his face and forced him to look up.

"No way. No way. After all, you saved me, didn't you?" Kise said with a wry smile. "If you could save me, you can save him. I believe in you, Kurokocchi, and you need to start believing in yourself, too. Now get out there and kick Aomine's butt until he can walk on two legs again. I'm not missing out on a great day with my best friend for nothing, okay?"

With his friend's words, Kuroko felt a great weight lift off his shoulders. He nodded, smiling.

"Thank you, Kise-kun."

After a final goodbye hug, Kise was off. Just in time; Kuroko was about to be late for his unofficial appointment. He hopped onto the elevator to the bottom floor, went through the yellow door, and popped quietly into Aomine's room in time to see the new therapist throw his hands up in the air.

"This is awful," the man said. "Truly awful! They pay me for this, but I don't see the point in helping someone who cannot be helped! I'm going to be frank with you, Aomine-san, but there is really no hope for you. You must have had a really bad crash, right? Was your spine severed? I've seen patients like you, and no matter how much I try, they never improve. I would advise you to opt for a wheelchair, and I can recommend you some very good ones, the best models—"

"Please don't say that."

"What? I'm saying the truth, Aomine-san—"

"I'm over here."

Screaming, the man jumped and clung onto the wall for dear life as Kuroko seemingly popped into existence from nothing. Shorter than the average male, he didn't strike a very impressive or intimidating figure even with his mouth turned down and a crease in his brow. Nevertheless, this didn't stop him from stepping in between the therapist and Aomine.

"I think the reason why none of those people were able to recover is that they didn't get enough support," Kuroko said. "Because there were people like you who continued to tell them that they would never improve, never be able to obtain their previous lives again."

"What? There are certain things that absolutely cannot be improved—"

"But you don't know if you don't try, right?" Kuroko cut in. "If you give up without even trying, then there's no way that things can be fixed."

"Some things can't be fixed! And where did you come from? You shouldn't be in here!"

"I don't mean to be rude, but if you're not willing to devote everything you have into making your patients succeed, I don't think you should have this job," Kuroko said with a small bow. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll be taking Aomine-san," he said, grabbing Aomine, "and leaving. Goodbye."

"Hey, what—"

"Come back here!"

Handing the crutches to Aomine, Kuroko dragged him out of the room and out into the recreational area where he'd spotted Aomine the other day.

"Hey—chill out, man!" Aomine cried out. "I'm gonna trip and fall, and it's not gonna be pretty…"

Kuroko let Aomine sit down on one of the benches, watching him with a frown.

"I told you not to come back, so what the hell are you doing here?" Aomine said with a glare.

"And I promised you I would be back, so of course I'd come," Kuroko returned, settling down next to Aomine with a sigh. "I hope you didn't listen to a word that man said back there."

"He was saying the truth," Aomine said. "And I was prepared. I already have a form filled out to submit for my withdrawal from this place."

"What?" Kuroko said, looking dismayed. "Please tell me you didn't say that."

Aomine waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You heard me. I'm giving up."

Kuroko scrutinized Aomine, then shook his head.

"You don't really mean that," he said in a monotone voice, and Aomine stiffened. "You say you gave up, but you didn't, not really. Or maybe it's that you want to give up, but you can't. Because you love basketball, don't you? Don't try to lie," Kuroko said, seeing Aomine open his mouth angrily, "I saw you on the mini-court yesterday morning."

"Wha—"

"The last thing you want to do is believe that you can't play anymore."

Aomine snarled and said angrily, "Listen, I said I was giving up, so deal with it!"

"Why are you giving up?" Kuroko said, getting to his feet. For the first time, he sounded almost angry. "Why? I don't understand. Why are you giving up on your dreams and what you love so easily? I might understand if you had a terminal disease and due to die in a month, but this—this, I can't!"

"W-Whoa, calm down," Aomine said, holding up his hands. "Easy."

Breathing hard, Kuroko sat down again. "Sorry. It was just a touchy topic for me. I didn't mean to get so worked up."

Aomine looked curious, but didn't press. They remained in silence for a while, listening to the birds in the trees and the children playing around them. Kuroko saw Aomine's eyes stray to the mini basketball court where six small children were tossing around a basketball.

"Why are you so persistent?" Aomine said suddenly. "I don't get it."

Kuroko hesitated. "It's just… I had a friend… who went through a similar experience as you. And what I regret the most is not pushing him in his darkest moments. I let him give up, because I didn't believe he could do anything anymore. You right now remind me of him, and I feel like this is a chance to redeem myself." Kuroko paused, looking up at Aomine with his bright blue eyes. "You're hurting, and I can't let you walk away knowing that you're drowning yourself in darkness."

"That sounded so corny just now."

Kuroko shrugged.

"Whatever," Aomine sighed, gathering his crutches together. "Walking on my own is going to take forever, and I'm ready to throw in the towel. There's nothing left for me, so I don't really care what happens to me anymore."

"That sounds pretty melodramatic, too, Aomine-san."

Aomine glared. "Shut up. All I'm saying is the truth. Basketball aside, no one will care if I can walk or not."

"What about your parents?"

Aomine snorted. "My mother's dead. And it would be a miracle if that jackass of a father even dropped by to visit me."

The way Aomine wouldn't meet Kuroko's eyes when he said that hurt. Aomine spoke in a harsh tone, but the light in his grey eyes signaled a different story. Kuroko was reminded by a hurt child who didn't want to admit to feeling pain.

"So he doesn't come to support you?"

The flinch was subtle, but Kuroko's eyes captured it.

"What are you getting at?"

Kuroko tilted his head, the hints of a smile wisping on his lips. Maybe what Aomine needed more than anything was someone by his side—a friend, some support pillar, anything to show that he was not in this alone. From the way Aomine talked about his parents, and the way he said there's nothing left for me, Kuroko sensed a need deeper than just basketball. One that was more fundamental, perhaps more important.

"I'll support you, then, Aomine-san. I'll shadow you. No," he amended quietly, "I'll become your shadow."

The glint in Kuroko's eyes was so unnerving that had Aomine been standing, he would have taken a step back.

"If nobody else will, then I will do it. Just don't give up."

"I've already told you, basketball is impossible—"

"I can't promise you that you'll be able to play basketball like before," Kuroko cut in, "but I can promise you that if you don't try, you'll never be able to do it. There's no harm in trying," he said quietly, looking Aomine straight in the eye. "You won't lose anything by trying."

The anger in Aomine's face was gone, replaced by something akin to confusion, innocence, and hope. The smallest of smiles glowed in Kuroko's eyes.

"I'll come to every rehab session you have and support you as best as I can until you can walk again. And then after that, I'll help you with basketball until you can play again. That's what I mean by when I say I'll be your shadow, Aomine-san. I'll be your support, even when no one else is rooting for you. So long as you never throw in the towel, I won't either. Do we have a deal?"

He held out his fist. Aomine stared at it. Then he looked up at Kuroko, and, though Aomine didn't know it himself, his grey eyes said, I'm trusting you, so don't give up on me, because I'll really break.

His fist met Kuroko's with a light tap, and for the first time since Kuroko had seen him, Aomine smiled.

Edit: 5/13/2015