On Monday morning, Kuroko's fever seemed better, but it still wasn't gone. He wore a face mask to school, even though he wasn't coughing or sniffling. Kagami told him to wear it in hopes that the teachers would go easy on him when they saw that he was under the weather, and Kuroko agreed just in case he did have something infectious going on. Kagami was still convinced that it was the stress on his body wearing him down. But a lowered immune system meant he was more susceptible to bugs, too, so it was better safe than sorry.

Instead of making him stand out, the face mask somehow worked to make Kuroko even more invisible. Nobody seemed bothered that he had finished none of his homework for the weekend, though Kagami caught a scolding from a teacher or two. He scowled and bore it, knowing that it would do no good to try to explain the situation. His dad had been right, anyway—rest and recovery had been much more important than filling out some words on some paper.

Kuroko ate almost nothing for lunch, no matter how Kagami pestered him. It was starting to worry him. The guy couldn't afford to lose any more weight, and he certainly wasn't getting any back at this rate.

Kuroko came to basketball practice, but he just sat against a wall and watched. He refused to so much as touch a basketball. Occasionally one of the others would go and sit by him for a bit, but Kuroko had no interest in making conversation, so they usually just sat in silence. Most of them couldn't take the awkwardness for long and ended up going back to practice.

Kiyoshi did not seem bothered. He lasted the longest, sitting casually at Kuroko's side and talking about nothing in particular while he tossed a basketball in the air and ran it along his fingers and arms. After a while, Kuroko rested his head back against the wall and just watched him, his eyes drooping, his posture relaxed. Kiyoshi grinned and took this as encouragement. His recovery from his surgery meant that he had to take frequent breaks from practice, anyway, and he spent them at Kuroko's side.

Coach Riko never told any of them to go back to practice. It was a silent agreement among the team, one every single member understood perfectly without being told. They all knew Kuroko was in trouble. They all would do whatever they could to help.

Kagami had assumed—naively, he knew now—that once Kuroko was removed from the bad situation in his father's house, everything would immediately turn around and start going in the right direction again. That was not the case. They had made some major strides over the weekend, but there was still a lot of bad stuff going on in Kuroko's mind and body.

His back wasn't healing quickly enough, either. Kagami applied balm to his sores twice a day, and each time they finished with a long, careful hug, as if that was part of the treatment. Kagami could tell that the welts and raw places were getting better, little by little, but it was so slow. Of course, the fever could not be helping. It was taking up resources that Kuroko's body could have used better to help him heal.

It felt weird to fire up the video chat program on a Monday night, but it was part of the deal Kagami had made to keep his dad from coming to Japan on the next flight. It had to be late—the sixteen-hour difference between LA and Tokyo was no joke. Six in the morning was about as early as Dad could stand, and ten at night was pretty much as late as Kagami and Kuroko could stay up, considering that they rose early every morning for school and training, and they were adolescent athletes whose bodies demanded a lot of sleep.

Once Dad's face appeared in the screen, though, it was all worth it. Kuroko and Kagami were sitting on Kuroko's bed again, bathed and dressed for sleep, homework done (as much as they were capable of doing in their depleted states). Dad lit up at the sight and declared that they were the cutest thing he'd ever seen, and it was embarrassing but also nice, as usual.

"So I've been thinking," Dad said, after he and Kagami had given each other their usual greetings of "Daddy-o" and "Tiger Cub." Even through the distance and the sometimes-choppy video stream, he made it clear that he was looking at and speaking to Kuroko. "I told you to call me Hiroshi last night, and I'm very pleased that you agreed. But you were very tired, so I didn't follow up with the next question. Would you like me to keep calling you Kuroko-kun, or would you be comfortable with me using a more familiar name?"

Kagami felt Kuroko shrink down beside him, as if the pressure of Dad's attention on him was too much to handle. Kagami gave him a glance, but didn't instantly put an arm around him the way he wanted to. He had a feeling that Kuroko was starting to find it a bit smothering.

"H-Hiroshi-san can call me whatever he wants to," Kuroko said, his voice very quiet.

He sounded...shy. Kagami frowned. Kuroko had always been polite and reserved, but he'd never been particularly shy. Before… Well, before.

Dad nodded carefully. "I appreciate that. But I would like to avoid reminding you of the person who hurt you, even by calling you the same name. I want this to be a fresh start for you. So I'd appreciate your input, please."

Kuroko's breath hitched. "He...calls me Tetsuya."

"Then I will not." Dad rubbed his chin with his hand in thought for a moment. "Would you mind if I called you Tetsu-chan?"

"I...I would like that. Thank you." Kuroko sounded relieved.

Kagami was proud of his father all over again. He hadn't even realized that this could be a problem, but Dad had foreseen it and corrected it before it could become one. Kagami remembered the way Kuroko's dad had snarled his name, Tetsuya, like it was a curse. Better to avoid evoking that monster if they could.

Dad smiled, proud too, but of Kuroko instead of himself. "Good! I'm glad. Now, how are you feeling, Tetsu-chan? Was today a good day for you?"

This was, after all, the purpose of the call. To let Dad check up on Kuroko and make sure he was getting better. And to prove that there was no need for him to fly to Japan so he could personally oversee his care.

"I'm doing well," Kuroko said. "Thank you for your concern."

Dad squinted at him. Then he looked at Kagami. "Is that true?" he asked in English.

Kagami hesitated. "He's better today than yesterday," he said in the same language. "But he's not eating much and he's very withdrawn. It's still a lot to deal with. Everything that's happened, I mean. It's only been a few days, really, and I think he's still in shock in some ways."

Dad nodded. "And his fever? His wounds?"

"Better but not gone. His back isn't healing as quickly as I want it to. The last time he was beaten was five days ago. Sometimes it still seems almost fresh."

"Well, that's not what I wanted to hear." Dad grimaced. "Does his skin seem swollen and hot?"

Kagami nodded. "I know it's still painful."

"Maybe try some cold compresses or ice. Treat it like a bruise instead of a scrape."

"Ah. That's a good idea, Dad. Thanks."

"It will take time. I know the impulse is to want to fix everything for him immediately, but we need to have patience."

"That's rich coming from you, Mr. I'll-be-on-the-next-plane."

"Shut up, brat." Dad grinned, broad and sharp-toothed, and his tone was playful. Kagami grinned back.

"I know you're talking about me."

They both looked at Kuroko, expressions suddenly guilty. He was frowning at them, his eyes narrowed. They returned to Japanese immediately.

"Sorry, Kuroko."

"Sorry, Tetsu-chan. We shouldn't have left you out."

Despite the ire now aimed at him, Kagami was glad to see some fire back in Kuroko's eyes. He still had that fierce spirit, despite everything. It was a relief to see it.

But as soon as their attention was on him again, Kuroko shrank down once more. He lowered his eyes, his glance shifting to the side. "I guess...I guess I should get better at English..."

"We'll be glad to help you with that," Dad said. "But it was rude of us to exclude you that way. We won't do it again."

Kagami nodded. "We were just talking about ways to make you feel better."

Kuroko heaved a sigh. "I understood that much. It's embarrassing, though."

"Why should that embarrass you?" Kagami watched him carefully. "You're hurt and we both want to make it better. What shame is there in that?"

Kuroko shrugged helplessly. He still couldn't meet their eyes. "There is no shame for you. You are both immensely kind. I am fortunate indeed to have somehow come into your care."

"And yet you are ashamed," Dad said. "Why is that?"

Kuroko said nothing. A flush was rising in his cheeks, overwhelming the fever color.

"You don't think that any of this is your fault, do you?" Dad asked. "Because it isn't. Not even a little bit."

Kagami's chest ached. He'd thought they'd been over this. He'd thought Aomine had managed to get through.

"I know," Kuroko said, but his voice was wavering and uncertain, and it was clear that he didn't know at all. Not really.

Dad's eyes were large and pleading. But Kuroko couldn't see that, his gaze still trained on nothing in particular. If this didn't end soon, Dad was going to jump on a plane just so he could come and reassure Kuroko in person. Kagami didn't know if Kuroko would be able to stand that, not right now.

"Dad," he said. "We have to have patience, remember?"

Dad settled back with a grumble, but Kagami could still see him twitching. After a moment, though, he brightened. "Ah! I didn't tell you yet. I've made arrangements so that I can come visit next weekend."

"Really?" Kagami straightened up. He glanced at Kuroko, wanting to share his excitement, but Kuroko was still staring listlessly at the bedspread. Kagami looked back to his dad. "That's great!"

He wasn't going to object to this one. As long as Dad had that important meeting taken care of, Kagami couldn't wait to see him. Dad had only been able to come to Japan for a couple of important holidays, so far. The eighteen-hour round trip with attendant indignities was brutal.

Dad nodded cheerfully. "And of course I'm still working on making sure I'll be able to move back permanently. I think we're getting closer to that goal, Taiga. It sounds like your second year of high school isn't going to be nearly as lonely as the first one was."

Kagami beamed. His dad back and a little brother. A little brother who was Kuroko, which was even better. Yeah, Kagami was only six months older, but that still counted.

Still, he had to protest. "My first year wasn't that bad. I got to join Seirin's basketball team. I met Kuroko. Alex even stayed here for like a month."

"That woman." Dad rolled his eyes. He liked Alex well enough, but her handsiness bothered him. He'd had a couple of very serious discussions with Kagami and Himuro about it. They assured him that they found it somewhat annoying, but nothing more than that.

Dad's expression softened. "I'm glad your first year of high school was a good one, Taiga."

Kagami nodded vigorously. "Second one will be even better."

"We'll make sure of it."

Kuroko released a tiny sigh, then looked up with wide eyes, as if he hadn't meant to do it. Kagami and his father both turned to him immediately.

"You too, Kuroko," Kagami said, his hands clenching in his fists. The desire to make this true was like an electric running through his body, humming in his bones and sparking in every muscle. "Your second year of high school is going to be so, so good. We'll make sure of it."

"That's right," Dad said. He was leaning forward in his chair, his hand reaching out as if he could reach through the screen and pat Kuroko's head if he only tried hard enough. The new sun behind him was very bright. "Nothing can ever replace what you lost, Tetsu-chan, and we know that. We do. But we're going to do everything in our power to give you something new that will be just as good."

"I...I know that." Kuroko's hands were clasped over his chest, hard and tight, as if to stanch a gaping wound. Not for the first time, Kagami wondered what exactly was going through his head. Why this wistfulness? Why was he still so, so sad?

Patience, he reminded himself. Patience, patience, patience.

Kagami wasn't good at being patient.

Dad watched Kuroko for a moment longer, then finally forced himself to sit back in his chair. "Well," he said. "It's getting late. You boys should go to sleep. We'll talk again tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Kagami said. "Good night."

"Good night, Hiroshi-san."

"Sleep well, Taiga, Tetsu-chan."

Kagami closed the program and shut the laptop, then turned to look at Kuroko. Kuroko was staring down again. His wide blue eyes reflected nothing but a void, and for a second, terror caught at Kagami's chest.

"Kuroko?"

He reached out, almost hesitant to touch, his hand hovering in midair. Then he remembered that even in the worst moments, Kuroko had never once pulled away from contact with him. Even when he flinched and started and froze for moment, once Kagami's hand lit on his shoulder or his arm wrapped around him, Kuroko melted into it. Every single time.

So Kagami reached out for him one more time, wrapping one large hand around Kuroko's frail, shivering shoulder. "Kuroko? What's wrong?"

Kuroko shook his head, still not looking up, though he leaned into Kagami's hand just the way Kagami had expected. "Nothing, really. It...it's nothing."

"No, it's not." Kagami stared at him for a moment, trying to understand. "You were tired and worn out before we talked to Dad but now you... You're sad. You're much more sad now than you were before. Why?"

"It's not because of your dad. Or you." Kuroko reached up to swipe at his face. His fingers came away damp, and Kagami stared in dismay. "It's just... You and your father are so kind to each other. You make each other happy. He wants to see you, and you want to see him. And I..."

Kagami held his breath for a moment, on the cusp of understanding this. "You..."

"...and my father..."

A lump rose in Kagami's throat, almost choking him. "You wanted that with your dad, too."

"I thought we had that. At one point." Kuroko pressed his hands to his chest again, even more like he was trying to stop himself from bleeding. "But now I wonder...if we ever did. Maybe...maybe he always hated me. Maybe the medicine just helped him hide it. And when he stopped taking it..."

"Oh, Kuroko..." Kagami leaned over and set the laptop on the floor. Then he pushed closer to Kuroko, disregarding his small, instinctive flinch, and wrapped him up in his arms. Again. For the third time that day. It was all he really had to offer, and it had never felt so inadequate.

Kuroko leaned into him and rested his head on Kagami's shoulder, turning his face so he could still talk. "I loved him so much, Kagami-kun. No... I still love him. And now I wonder... If it was all just a waste..."

"No," Kagami said, strong and instinctive. Then he had to figure out some way to back that up. "No, Kuroko, of course not. Even if it didn't do him any good, there's nothing wrong with you loving your father. He thought you were a freak, but you're as normal as can be. Of course you loved him. Of course you're sad now, because you lost him. But it wasn't a waste. Nothing like that can ever be a waste."

"It feels like it, though. It feels like... I've lost something. Even if I never had it to begin with, it's still lost now."

"Then it's okay to be sad. You're...grieving. There's nothing wrong with that."

As if this permission was what he'd been waiting for, Kuroko suddenly relaxed. And he cried, a little, but he didn't have the energy to do it for very long. "I'm tired of crying," he said after a few minutes, pulling back from Kagami with an exhausted sigh, his hands shaking. "I've been crying so much lately."

"It's okay," Kagami said again. "You've had a lot to cry about."

Kuroko nodded in acceptance, because what else could he do? It was true.