Murasakibara Atsushi entered the Kagami apartment like a lazy thunderstorm: slowly at first, then suddenly bursting into light and noise.

At first, Himuro led the way, looking around and taking it all in. It was his first time visiting Taiga's home in Japan, and he wanted to treat the visit with the care and attention it deserved. He still regretted the way he had acted toward Taiga, and he hoped that this would be a chance to reclaim the lost time.

Atsushi was right behind him, moving sluggishly. He had tried to sleep on the train, after getting little rest the night before, but he hadn't had much success. Even his favorite snacks had done little to relieve his brooding discontent. And Himuro had tried a lot of his favorite snacks.

Taiga tried to offer some words of greeting, a gracious host as ever, and Himuro did his best to respond. All at once, Atsushi came alive. It was if he had noticed where they were for the first time. He began shoving at Himuro's back to get him to move out of the way.

"Where's Kuro-chin?" he demanded, his voice low and growling. "I want to see him. Muro-chin, stop talking. I don't care about anything you're saying. Kaga-chin, where is Kuro-chin?"

Taiga narrowed his eyes, looking Atsushi up and down and assessing him for the giant toddler he sometimes was. "He's taking a nap right now. He'll come out and greet you later. He's still recovering from...well, from everything. He needs his rest."

Atsushi nodded, but it was not in agreement. He slid out of his shoes and jacket with a grace that belied his enormous figure and pushed past Himuro deeper into the apartment. Himuro made an attempt at snagging his sleeve to slow him down, but Atsushi paid no more attention to him than if he'd been a gnat.

"Atsushi," Himuro rapped out, exasperated. "Be respectful. Kuroko needs his rest. Leave him alone."

"Don't wanna," Atsushi said, petulant as a child. He shrugged his shoulder, and Himuro's hand fell off his sleeve. "I don't want to wait anymore. I waited already. I'm done with waiting."

And he was off down the hallway, checking each door with one sharp glance each before moving on. Himuro chased after him, hoping he might at least be able to keep Atsushi from breaking anything.

"For pity's sake," Taiga spat out as he hurried in their wake. "Dad! Stop him!"

Kagami-san emerged from the end of the hallway, blinking in astonishment behind his glasses, but it was already too late. Atsushi had found Kuroko's room and shouldered his way inside, all but taking the door off its hinges. Himuro halted in the doorway behind him, his heart in his throat, and Taiga crowded up on his shoulder. "Let me in," he said sharply, but Himuro planted his feet and did not move. He was too busy staring at the scene inside.

Atsushi had paused just inside the room for a bare second, then completed his journey to Kuroko's bed in two enormous strides. Now he was kneeling at the head of the bed, his hands on his knees, his head bowed as he stared at Kuroko's sleeping face. For the first time since he had found those photos, Atsushi was still.

He wasn't fidgeting, wasn't vibrating, wasn't clenching and unclenching his fists in constant motion. He knelt there, staring, and his face was a story Himuro had never wanted to learn. It was anguish and pain and regret and anger, so much anger. Anger at Kuroko, anger at himself, anger at everyone who had kept his secret from him. Atsushi in a rage was a terrifying spectacle, and that was especially true when he was still like this. It was like watching a thunderhead building and building before the inevitable flurry of lightning strikes.

"Kuro-chin," Atsushi said, and his voice was wracked with pain. "Kuro-chin. Why didn't you tell me? I would have crushed him for you. I would have crushed anyone who hurt you. Why did you keep it a secret? It was such a bad secret, Kuro-chin. Why did you do that?"

Kuroko began to stir, his eyes struggling to open. Himuro caught his breath and held it, suddenly wishing he hadn't chased after Atsushi at all. He should have stayed behind at the front door rather than intrude on this incredibly intimate moment. But now he was here, and he couldn't leave without drawing attention to himself. So he stood there, aching. At his shoulder, Taiga was quiet too.

Kuroko's eyes finally opened all the way, and he stared up at Atsushi without blinking. His expression was smooth and serene, almost like usual, but Himuro couldn't help noticing that something was different now. Kuroko's face was thinner than Himuro remembered from the Winter Cup, and paler, too. It was obvious that he had been through terrible things since that moment of triumph. Things that had wounded and injured and changed him, but he had made it through. He had survived; he'd come out the other side.

Who was he now? He seemed like a completely different person. Himuro suddenly understood why he had chosen to change his name. Kuroko was no longer Kuroko. He was someone else.

Kagami Tetsuya. Tetsu-chan. No longer alone, no longer a shadow in the background that no one could see. He was beloved now, immensely cherished. As he deserved. As he fully deserved.

Himuro's hand found its way to Taiga's shoulder and clenched in the fabric there, holding so tight that his fist trembled. He couldn't believe that he'd ever told his little brother to let this go. To give Kuroko—Tetsu—over to the care of strangers. He'd been speaking in ignorance, but still. He should have known better.

After a moment to take in the situation, Tetsu smiled. It was sweet and wide and uncomplicated, and Atsushi caught his breath in startlement. Had he never seen Tetsu smile like that before?

"Hello, Murasakibara-kun. It's good to see you." Tetsu pushed away the light blanket that covered him and levered himself up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He moved slowly and carefully, and it was clear that he was still weak from his illness. But he seemed confident and self-assured, even so, unbothered by Atsushi's nearness and intensity.

"Kuro-chin." Atsushi straightened. The anger in his face grew, pushing aside some of the pain, but not replacing it. "Why didn't you tell me? Why am I the last to know?"

Tetsu shrank, sorrow pouring in. He heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Murasakibara-kun. I didn't mean to cause you pain with this. That was the last thing I ever wanted."

Atsushi shook his head. "I don't care about that. I just want to know why. Did you think I would dismiss you? Did you think that just because we disagreed about basketball, we weren't friends anymore? That I wouldn't care?" His hands clenched into fists on top of his thighs, and a shudder of pain and rage passed through his entire frame. His voice went low and fierce again. "Because that's not true, Kuro-chin. It's not true at all."

Tetsu's shoulders slumped. He looked down at his hands, twisting together in his lap. "I'm sorry," he said again, lower than before. "I didn't tell anyone because... Because I was afraid. Because I thought the way my father treated me was normal. Because I was ashamed. Because I thought I deserved it. Because I felt alone. Because I thought I was responsible to fix the problems in my family, and no one else could, so it had to be me."

He looked up at Atsushi. "There were many reasons I didn't tell anyone. Not in middle school, when all he did was hit me once in a while, and not a month ago, when he started beating me with a strap. I think the biggest reason was... It just didn't occur to me that I could ask for help."

"Kuro-chin..."

Tetsu shook his head. "I don't know if the way things were at Teiko affected that, if I came to believe that I couldn't ask for assistance with my home life because I could never ask for assistance with any of my other problems, either. It might have. I might have taught myself to believe that no one would ever help me because I spent so much time struggling alone. Or it might have been the other way around. Maybe I never asked for help with my basketball because I never asked for help with anything else, either. I was used to being ignored and passed over. I was used to being in the shadows."

"But we were a team," Atsushi said, plaintive and small. "We were friends. I know we weren't a very good team, not at the end, but still... Wasn't that enough?"

Tetsu trembled, staring down at his hands. "No," he murmured after a long moment. "I guess it wasn't. I'm sorry, Murasakibara-kun."

A terrible silence fell. Tetsu continued to look down, unable to meet Atsushi's eyes. Atsushi stared at him, still and silent. The rage had bled away from his posture and expression, leaving only pain and overwhelming grief.

"Kuro-chin." It was almost a whisper. "Please let me see."

Tetsu raised his head, eyes wide. Atsushi stared back at him. After a wavering moment, Tetsu nodded. He turned his back to Atsushi and lifted his shirt, rolling it up over his shoulders.

Himuro's eyes burned. The photos were still seared in his mind, and he could see how much better the marks were now. Tetsu had done a lot of healing. But they were still visible, fading red lines criss-crossing his back, no longer inflamed and painful-looking but still there. Still obvious. Still horrible in every way.

Atsushi reached out one hand, hovering over Tetsu's back but not touching down. With his fingers spread, he could almost span Tetsu's entire back with one huge hand. His fingers trembled lightly. It was strange to see.

"Does it hurt you?" Atsushi asked.

Tetsu shook his head. His shoulders hunched up around his ears. "Not anymore. They're almost...scars."

"I see." After another small moment of hesitation, Atsushi's hand touched down. He rested it gently on Tetsu's back, somehow managing to cover up a good portion of those awful marks. Himuro had never really considered Atsushi to be a gentle person. Even so, he was not surprised to see how gentle he was now.

Tetsu's breath halted in his throat at the moment of the touch, but then he breathed out, slow and careful. His shoulders fell down from their hunch, and he leaned forward with his hands loose in his lap. The relief was so immense that he swayed where he sat.

After several long moments to take it in, to be certain, to assure himself that Tetsu was truly healing, Atsushi lifted his hand from his back just as gently as he'd touched it down. Tetsu straightened, pulled his shirt back down, and turned to face Atsushi again. Tears stood in his eyes.

In Atsushi's, too.

"I'm sor..." Tetsu started.

"Stop that." Atsushi got up on his knees and leaned forward, dragging Tetsu into the closest, tightest bear hug Himuro had ever seen. "Don't apologize anymore. I don't want to hear it again. It hurts my ears."

Tetsu laughed, a little moist, a little choked, and put his arms around Atsushi in return. "All right," he said. "I won't."

"You have to be okay," Atsushi muttered, squeezing him even tighter. "I hate it when you aren't okay."

"I'm okay, Murasakibara-kun. At least, I'm getting there. I'll be okay soon."

"Good. And if someone ever hurts you again, you have to tell me who it was so I can crush them."

Tetsu laughed again, bright and muffled. "I will."

The hug went on. After a moment, Kagami-san put one hand on Himuro's shoulder and one on Taiga's and pulled them away down the hallway. "Leave them be," he murmured. "They'll be all right."

Yes, Himuro thought, and the relief was so strong that he had to stop walking and put his hand on the wall to hold himself up. They will be.