hi hi hi hi hi. how are you all! Sorry I went away for so long, my job sent me away for a few months and I've been playing catch up since. Because of that I was very hesitant to post it because it's been so long. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think if you get a chance and as always, love you guys!
warnings: bad language, violence, craptastic editing by yours truly
disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or associated characters.
An Untimely Reunion
The movies made this seem a lot more exciting than it really was.
There was supposed to be knife fights, evil monologuing, and murder. Lots and lots of murder. Hana had really been looking forward to that part.
It would have been such a nice way to remove all this lingering tension in her body.
Nothing calms the heart like blood.
Her muscles had been tensed since the first interruption, green eyes darting between the group she could see as her fingers flexed into fists. Detailed plans of mutilation and savagery meticulously plotted out, starting with the weakest link. That meant Hara first. You know, for Shutoku. Then she'd take out Yamazaki. His tie would make a great garrote—
Unfortunately, Kuroko took the wind out of her sail.
"Good afternoon," his voice was drenched in politeness, but there was something sharp hiding in its depths, "Do you need something?"
"Don't worry, kid. It's nothing with you," Hara grinned, a tad too sharp. It had the unfortunate effect of making him look like a gremlin. "Just need to have a little chat with manager-chan."
Well, someone sure thought they were hot shit. She hiked a brow. That was bold. Calling Kuroko a kid and threating her in the same breath? Good luck walking out of here with your balls intact, buddy.
Just as expected, Kuroko did not like that answer, "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
It sounded almost apologetic— if you ignored the way malice was slowly leaking into the air. He really had a gift for that. What he couldn't back up physically, Kuroko sure as hell knew how to damage someone psychologically. Thank god for that— judging from how things were rolling, it was starting to look like he may need it.
"That's cute," Hara's mouth twitched. Lilac bangs hid the expression in his gaze, but not his taunt, "You think you have a choice."
Beside him, Yamazaki rolled his eyes, "Take care of it already, Furuhashi."
We'll see about that. Baring her teeth, Hana snapped at the boy ahead of her, "Try it."
"Don't be brash," someone behind Kuroko drawled, Furuhashi assumedly. There was no infliction in his tone. No emotion. Out of all of them, that worried her the most. "Makoto didn't want a scene."
Well, would you look at that. Hanamiya's dogs listened. Between Yamazaki's dry threat and the five seconds it'd taken for everything to click into place, no one had moved. Well, scratch that. They hadn't moved.
The same couldn't be said for the boy in front of her. If possible, Kuroko pulled her even tighter to his chest— the soft ends of his hair tickling her neck as he watched the group slowly surrounding them. Hana thought he was going for protective. Which, you know, kind of cute.
If they weren't about to be casualties of the first annual basketball mafia.
Feeling Kuroko's hand tense against her back, Hana tracked the two boys in front of her. While he wasn't monologuing, Hara sure did look smug leaning against the wall. His mop of purple hair hid whatever devious bullshit he was thinking about, but his mouth jerked in the beginnings of a cruel smirk when he caught her eye. Chapped lips pursed as he blew another enormous bubble of gum and let it pop. Wow, much scare.
If he was going for intimidating— he had some big shoes to fill. Quite literally. There was only one boy with purple hair who'd ever stand a chance in hell of scaring her and Murasakibara certainly held the crown in this standoff. Sorry, pal. No comparisons here.
Twisting her focus away from the gum-smacking, my little pony knock-off, Hana glanced at Yamazaki Hiroshi. Hands tucked deep in the pockets of his slacks, his thin brows furrowed in a sharp scowl. Clearly, he wasn't happy with Furuhashi's chastisement. His muddy red hair was mused, in that I'm a badass style teen boys seemed to be all hung up on. Looks more like a knockoff Tokyo Revengers cosplayer.
"Hana," Kuroko whispered under his breath. Unlike her sudden surge of brave annoyance, his shoulders were still stiff in preparation, "Call Kagami-kun."
She hid her disbelief, but just barely. Try and think clearly, Tetsu. This was a delicate situation. Introducing Kagami into this party would be a nightmare. He couldn't handle their jeers, couldn't withstand the tension, and the absolute last thing Seirin needed was an off-court suspension. It hadn't escaped her notice that they'd staged this confrontation in a public setting— adding credibility to Hanamiya's desire for a quick fix and little fallout.
She still had to wonder just what the hell they were thinking they'd get out of this. If Torio hadn't been able to glean any information from her, what did Hanamiya think the rest of his teammates could do? Scare her into submission? As if.
With the way Shutoku's game still had her riled up, it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination for Hana to say to hell with it and launch herself at the closest boy. It was just luck that happened to be Hara. I'll shove that wad of gum so far down his throat he'll be shitting bubbles for the next three weeks.
"I wouldn't do that," the boy behind her drawled. She couldn't see them, but it sounded like what she imagined Seto did. Like a lazy cat licking its balls. "We just want to talk."
"Do you?" Hana countered, finally stepping out of Kuroko's hold to address the man hiding behind her. Kuroko didn't like that, his hand latching onto her wrist before she could get too far away. "Because this feels a bit excessive— are you overcompensating for something?"
Even though Kuroko didn't let her get too far, his moderate allowance was just enough for Hana to get her first glimpse of the last two team members. Again, she found herself less than impressed. Seto Kentaro hovered just behind Furuhashi, his shoulders slumped down like he was exhausted from the effort of merely breathing. Slick backed hair highlighted the mole on his forehead, the gel he'd lathered through the strands gleaming in the hallway lighting.
What is this? A whole squad of cosplayers?
"In a manner of speaking," Furuhashi agreed. Dead eyes met her own, dark pupils fully eclipsed by the dull grey of his irises, "We're trying to fix a miscalculation. I'm sure you understand."
Out of all of them, he stood the closest. The rest of his team kept a healthy two to three feet of distance, but Furuhashi didn't appear to see the need. Overconfident ass. He was in reaching distance— both of her own and his. Unlike his peers, his arms were crossed over his chest, not allowing mobility but promising it's possibility.
"And I'm going to go ahead and assume I'm the miscalculation," Hana snapped back. She didn't take a step forward, but it was a close thing, "So, is this about Shutoku or Torio? Because I need a bit of clarification before I try dealing with your shit."
Mentally, she acknowledged it could also be Hanamiya just being a shit. Least likely outcome, but plausible, nonetheless. Revenge for his wallet maybe. If he even remembers the damn thing.
"Torio?" Furuhashi blinked, the closest impression of surprise she thought the boy could make, "No, this has nothing to do with our manager."
Well, would you look at that. That was an important piece of information to file away for later, "Really? Hanamiya had nothing to do with all of that?"
Hana let the sentence hang in the air, purposely vague. Show me what you know, fish boy. He blinked again, the movement slower this time. A slight furrow built between his brows, but it disappeared just as fast. While he didn't verbalize his confusion, Furuhashi had just gifted Hana several key pieces of information. If they don't know about Torio's recent bullshit—
Thoughts for later. She needed to focus. Instead, she switched the conversation back to the present, "Shutoku then. Hanamiya pissed I messed with his game?"
"Of course," again, Furuhashi didn't do much more than stare, "It's not good behavior of a manager to promote cheating."
Pfft. You've got to be kidding me.
"Oh, now that's rich—" Kuroko's hand tightened on her wrist, but she ignored it, "I didn't think Hanamiya had a moral code. Kind of clashes with the whole backstabbing bitch thing he's got going on."
"Don't be fooled, there's nothing moral about this," Furuhashi countered. His dead eyes flicked toward Hara before he nodded, just slightly, "But fair is fair, isn't it? You did help our opponent win, after all."
She couldn't help but scoff, "That's what this is? Hanamiya's mad I evened the playing field? You didn't want to win that game anyway."
While the reality of the situation was quickly setting in, Hana only had one thought. Kiyoshi was going to throw a fit. He explicitly told her this would happen. Sorry, Daddy Kiyoshi—
"True, but that's not the issue we're discussing," he didn't wait to elaborate, "If you're willing to share your information with our opponent, the same logic should apply here. All we're asking for is equality."
He left the rest of the command unspoken, but Hana knew well enough to read between the lines. She'd assisted Shutoku in their match and now, Hanamiya, in a stroke of genius, believed he deserved the same liberties. Yeah, over my dead and rotting ass.
Does Momoi have to deal with this type of shit? This was ridiculous and Hana didn't hesitate to voice it, "You thought that would work? I'm not giving you shit. I don't even have them on me—"
"Don't lie, manager-chan," Hara interrupted. He chewed loudly on another piece of gum before taunting, "That's not what good girls do."
"Your phone," Seto cut in before Hana could get a word out edgewise, "You're not as clever as you think you are."
Bitch. Hana's eyes narrowed, catching the way Seto yawned as he let his statement trail off. While Furuhashi seemed to be taking on the de facto leader role in Hanamiya's absence, Imayoshi's warnings about Seto's intelligence weren't forgotten. Scratch Hara— I'm taking your ass out first.
"I believe she already answered your question," Kuroko proffered steadily, extending his steadfast support in the face of her decision, "We'll be leaving now."
She wasn't sure when their advancement officially began, but as soon as his sentence tapered off, the tension between them all turned visceral. Like hyenas cornering their downed prey, the group moved as a unit— identical to the strategy Imayoshi had warned her about on the court. Hara took lead, while the rest hovered at the corners. The only thing missing from their web like formation was Hanamiya casting reign in the center.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the way suddenly Hara slunk away from his position within the group. Don't even think about it. His steps were leisurely as he circled around them and came to settle at her side. Hana's throat constricted as he reached toward her, a pale finger flicking at a loose strand of her hair, "You sure that's how you want this to go, manager-chan?"
"Don't touch me—"
Hana went to swipe at him, but Kuroko was faster. His hand flashed through the air, pushing him out of her personal space. With little more than a blink, Hara's finger was smacked out of the air with the sound of a muted twang.
Silence reigned, broken only by Kuroko's unyielding demand, "That's enough."
There was a thread of steel to his tone. Well, okay. Guess we're channeling Akashi now. Hana's shoulders tensed as she cut a sharp look to the boy beside her. While his face wore a careful mien of apathy, there was fire in his eyes. A cold, glacial burn. Stepping closer to Hana's side, Kuroko's warning hung in the air like a tattered battle flag— waiting to see if the enemy would advance.
"So, the rumors are true," Seto's lazy drawl ended with a chuckle. He exchanged a quiet look with Furuhashi before he smirked, "Never expected that from the famed Generation of Miracles."
"He's protective," Hara needled, nursing his hand but not yielding in his slow predatory circling. Furuhashi merely stared, watching his teammate prod, "It's kind of cute. Don't you think they're adorable, Seto?"
It was clear his teammate didn't agree. Seto scoffed at the question, his dark eyes skimming down her face and to her feet before laughing lowly, "If you think trash is cute, Hara, you've got shit taste."
There it was. The malice she'd been waiting for, the taint of Hanamiya's influence finally entering the air. On his next path around them, Hara's shoulder bumped into Kuroko's own, jostling the smaller player enough that his grip on her wrist tightened in forewarning. I know dude, I know. Hana stilled, counting the beat of her heart as Kuroko stiffened next to her.
Again, Yamazaki was the first to bring the situation back into control, "We aren't here for that— Hanamiya told us to deal with the manager."
"Awh, chill out, Yamazaki," Hara pouted as he slipped behind them, his lip jutting out slightly before he grinned, "We're just getting to the good part."
Well, that didn't sound promising. She'd kind of hoped they'd already got to the crux of it. Stepping closer to Kuroko, Hana braved another glance around the hall. Again, it was disappointingly empty. Really rethinking the whole not-calling Taiga thing now.
"Whatever shit you've got planned isn't going to work," Hana snapped, her heart lurching into her throat when Hara chuckled, "There's camaras—"
The threat was casted away with Seto's yawn, "Are there?"
"That's enough," Furuhashi commanded, "We'll be late."
A grunt was her only warning. Before Hana could even blink, a pale arm wrapped over Kuroko's shoulders, tugging him away from her side and toward the wall. His hand tightened desperately on her hand before he was forced to let the hold go. Hara stood behind him, his long arm draped across Kuroko's collar bone in a loose imitation of a headlock. The rival player offered a wicked grin before whispering something in his ear.
Whatever it was, it was enough to make Kuroko's already pale face turn ghost white.
Shit, shit, shit. Lips pulling back over her teeth, Hana growled, "Hey! Let him—"
A firm hand grabbed her open wrist and squeezed.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Furuhashi met her furious stare with little more than a blink, "Your choice."
"You motherfuc—" Kuroko made another quiet noise and Hana snapped her mouth shut, teeth biting into the chapped skin of her lip until she tasted iron. This is such bullshit.
Furuhashi stared, depthless eyes drawing indifferently toward Kuroko. He repeated, "Your choice."
They were backed into a corner and again, it was her fault.
Before she could think about the implications of her decision, she used her free hand to dig into her pocket. Cool metal met the sweaty skin of her palm, her fingers shaking as she fished her phone out of her pocket and brought it into focus. Furuhashi watched her apathetically as she clicked the screen on and swiped out of the notification bar. Those disgusting, dead eyes followed her movements as she pulled up her note app and entered the password.
But like hell was she going to go down without a fight this time.
"Hana—" whatever Kuroko intended to say was cut off with another soft, nearly silent grunt. She didn't look at him, but her heart beat harder, warning her to quicken her pace. Hold on, Tetsuya. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, skin sticking to her teeth as she forced herself to swallow her growing anxiety.
You can do this.
"You can have it," she held it out like a ritual offering, "Just let me call off my boyfriend first."
xXxXxxXxXx
"Midorima-cchi!"
Pausing in his stride down the hall, Midorima took a stabilizing breath.
For a brief second, he prayed to Oha-Asa that the voice echoing behind him belonged to anyone other than Kise. He'd even settle for Kagami at this point if it would remove the sound he'd long learned to associate with an incoming headache. Taped fingers flexed against the strap of his bag, green eyes drifting shut as the echo of rushing footsteps crept closer.
Takao skittered to a stop beside him, "Hey, Shin-chan—"
"I don't care," Midorima refuted, refusing to follow his teammate's stare, "We're leaving."
Kise wasn't part of fate's plan for the day, as subject to Gemini's lowly horoscope rating. The only two outranking them in terms of ill-fortune were Scorpio and Aquarius.
More than that, Midorima sorely sought to leave the stadium arena and the odd feelings his game had wrought out of him. There was too much he needed to address in private, emotions he wanted to mentally catalogue before he faced anyone beyond his own reflection. He needed to prepare for their game tomorrow, to ready himself to face Kagami and Kuroko once again.
Unfortunately, it appeared that time would be neither here nor there.
"Midorima-cchi!" Kise's screech reverberated through the hallway, "Look who I found!"
He shouldn't have looked, but curiosity had him by the throat. There were very few people Kise spoke of so fondly and a distant, rebellious, part of him wondered if he'd managed to find Imamura after the game. That thought was swiftly quelled with a firm mental redirection, but he was too late to force his body to follow.
What he found when he turned wasn't what he expected.
Hands shoved deep into the pockets of a pair of loose-fitting suede overalls, Murasakibara scowled.
Midorima's brain went through a series of strange mental calculations as he stared at his old teammate. It'd been a moment since he'd last seen him, but it felt familiar in the creeping sting nostalgia always brought. Long strands of lavender hair hung around his ears with the rest curtailed at the base of his neck in a limp ponytail. Beside him, Kise hung off his bicep with a solid grip. It was one Midorima was regrettably familiar with himself.
There would be no escape from that hold— not once Kise's exuberance latched onto his newest prey.
Lip delicately curling upward, Midorima eyed the blonde attached to Murasakibara's side. Imamura tended to call him a dog— once going so far as to show him a picture of a golden retriever puppy with a poorly drawn earing. Midorima never admitted it to anyone beyond himself, but the comparison rang true. Kise had been the exuberant force that often pushed the Generation of Miracles together.
The only quality she often overlooked was the mouth of sharp teeth and his dangerous, nearing possessive, loyalty.
"Murasakibara," Midorima said instead, smoothly cataloging the way the taller boy's eyes narrowed on him, "This is a surprise."
Murasakibara merely stared back, "Mido-chin."
It was less of a greeting and more of an acknowledgement. Something Midorima could appreciate. He never thought their paths would cross again so soon and again, he was disconcerted with the possibilities of why.
"I found him in the stands," Kise explained as they both caught up, his dark polished shoes squeaking obnoxiously over the freshly waxed floor. When he was satisfied he'd gained Midorima's attention, he let go of Murasakibara's forearm to tuck his hands behind his head, "He came to watch your game!"
As improbable as it was, Midorima found himself almost wishing it was true. Not for his sake, of course, but for the security of the rest of their wayward acquaintances. Murasakibara didn't do anything unless told— meaning somewhere in this sphere, Akashi's influence was growing.
"He—" Takao whispered. Midorima had forgotten about him amid the reunion, but a quick glance to his left showed his point guard's gaping mouth, "This is Murasakibara?"
That's right. He hadn't been properly introduced to all of his former teammates. Kise and Aomine were familiar faces in their division, but since their loss to Seirin, Takao hadn't been given the chance to see the rest of the group in action. That would be a mistake Midorima would quickly rectify. Once Seirin was defeated, they'd advance into the finals and he'd need to be prepared.
Ignoring the question and Takao's presence all together, Murasakibara pouted. His childlike expression didn't hide the hint of annoyance that bubbled to the surface as he explained, "No, I didn't," Murasakibara scowled down at Kise, "Mine-chin made me come."
"Aomine?" Midorima blinked, the most he'd let surprise register on his face, "You've spoken to him?"
Again, he tried to piece together what he knew. Akashi's range of influence didn't often travel toward the rest of his teammates in Tokyo— keeping regular communications with only Midorima and Murasakibara. Kise was often too busy and Aomine cared for little other than himself. Yet, why would he reach out to Murasakibara directly?
A large palm flapped in the air, Murasakibara waving off the accusation like he was swatting at an unwelcomed gnat, "No. He threatened me and then Sa-chin bribed me with snacks."
Doubt tingled at the base of Midorima's spine and he turned his stare to Kise next, "And you? Why did you come?"
It was too soon to entirely write out Akashi's involvement, but the timing of events was suspicious. Even Oha-asa could not have predicted this. Clarity ate away at him as he worked through the details of the day, trying to identify the abnormality that would have led to this reunion, but it all came back to one event. Imamura. Midorima hadn't been given the chance to sort the puzzle out himself, but it appeared that once again, fate would present him the answers he needed.
"Midorima-cchi," Kise stared at him like he'd grown a second head. It lasted just long enough for his face to turn red and faux tears to spring into his eyes, "Do you not read our messages?!"
A ridiculous question. With a scoff, Midorima tilted his attention to the wall, "Of course not."
His answer only served to make Kise pout. It was disgusting, "But Midorima-cchi—"
With the grace of subtly he'd never mastered, Takao interjected his own thoughts, "If you weren't here to watch us, did you guys come to see Seirin?"
The dramatics Kise had been using as a crutch vanished as quickly as they came, "Something like that," he hedged. Indecision wasn't an expression of his that Midorima was familiar with, but there was a strange flair of hesitation in his response, "Kuroko-cchi invited me."
Green eyes flicked to gold, narrowing at the flash of knowledge hiding in Kise's statement, "Did you know?"
He didn't bother to explain. If they'd been here for the game, then they obviously witnessed the intervention.
"I didn't think they'd be so aggressive, but Kuroko-cchi warned me there was some tension with the team you were playing today." Kise's tan hand scratched at the back of his neck as he avoided looking at either of his two former teammates.
"And Imamura?" Midorima pressed, needing to know, "Did she tell you what she planned?"
For the first time in the span of the conversation, Murasakibara appeared interested, "Mura-chin?"
Kise shook his head, "No, I didn't know anything about that. I don't think Kuroko-cchi did either," he shrugged, but it didn't hide the slight grimace hiding in his brows, "All I know is that there was an issue with her old captain and he wanted me to keep an eye out."
"I don't know what we're talking about," Murasakibara interrupted. His tone was drawn out, lazy almost, but Midorima wasn't fool enough to look past the sharp keen of his stare, "I want to know."
Midorima canted his gaze back toward Kise, raising an eyebrow at the blonde expectantly. It was clear that between the two of them, the blonde held more knowledge. Kise huffed but eventually explained, "I don't really know everything, just what Aomine-cchi and Kuroko-cchi passed on. All I know is that Hana-cchi's old captain is Kirisaki Daiichi's manager and she was worried Midorima-cchi would get hurt."
Her warning had been premeditated after all. She'd been concerned. About him. Midorima forced himself to swallow, trying to chase away the emotions that realization brought on. His taped fingers flexed, knocking against the polyester lining of his bag as he recounted the game— focusing his observations on the last minute of playing time when she'd screamed.
Shintaro! Move!
He didn't know how to feel.
"Elaborate," Midorima barked out, trying not to focus on Kise's new term of familiarity or his racing thoughts, "Now."
Murasakibara didn't follow in his stead. Purple eyes narrowed dangerously, "Hana-cchi?"
Casting a wary glance at the teen beside him, Kise wisely took a step to the side before continuing his explanation, "Aomine-cchi said he'd been following her. The last update I got was that there was some kind of confrontation between all of them. Kuroko-cchi didn't give me all the details. If you read our messages—"
Midorima interrupted him before the dramatics could grow. There was a strange feeling in his chest, a tinge of foreboding, "Have you seen her?"
His initial concerns about Akashi's involvement were forgotten. He was still concerned that there was an overarching motive at play, but for now he would assume otherwise. It would be unlike his former captain to leave a lose end such as this— meaning that he didn't know. Midorima wasn't sure what assumption promised a worse outcome.
When he returned to the conversation, Kise was already shaking his head, "No, we were looking for them when I found you—" twisting his head over his shoulder, he frowned down the hall they came from, "Kuroko-cchi isn't answering his phone. I called Aomine-cchi too, but he said to deal with it myself."
"Seirin left," Takao chimed in. He'd taken a backseat in the conversation, but he continued to actively process the information around him. Grey eyes flickered almost regretfully toward Midorima before he confessed, "Imamura-chan wasn't with them."
Midorima almost didn't want to ask, "And Kirisaki Daiichi?"
His teammate winced, admitting what Midorima already feared, "Haven't seen them."
"We'll find them, Midorima-cchi! I'm sure it's nothing—"
The sound of a phone ringing cut his spiel off. So focused on his thoughts, Midorima almost didn't realize the noise omitted from his own person. With a sharp look toward Kise, he swiftly unzipped the outlining of his bag and retrieved the device— staring at the familiar caller ID with relief and a vague sense of annoyance.
Midorima frowned as soon as he clicked the call, "Imamura."
He didn't want to acknowledge the weight her call casted off his shoulders. In all senses of the manner, Midorima shouldn't have been concerned. He shouldn't be worried. Not for the manager who'd stormed through the careful façade of his life with all the strength of a whirlwind.
"Put it on speaker, Midorima-cchi!" Kise needled, moving too close into his personal space, "I can't hear!"
While Midorima did as directed, it wasn't for the blonde's benefit, "Where are you—"
"Hey, babe!" She began to speak, rushing through her words faster than he could catch, "Heads up, Tetsuya and I got held up. We'll be at dinner soon— don't call me back! Okay, bye!"
The line clicked off and with it, his blossoming relief vanished.
While the greeting shocked him, it wasn't the term of address that had Midorima's attention, it was the tone. There was an edge of sharp fear— something he'd never heard from their former acquaintance. Imamura was brash, combative. She'd stood toe to toe with Akashi at his worst. While she'd cry to everyone that could hear her that his former captain scared her, it'd always been tinged in jest.
Never once had there been genuine fear.
"This way," he directed Kise, stepping into the de facto leader role with an ease he hadn't experienced since his co-captain days in middle school, "If you've already been through the west wing of the building, we should head east."
He was mildly surprised when Murasakibara moved first.
xXx
Well, that was easy.
Hana could only hope Midorima wasn't clueless and he picked up on the subtle clues she'd thrown his way. As long as the babe thing didn't kill him again. On second thought, maybe she should have called Kagami.
"See? No problem—"
The phone was snatched out of her hand before she could finish. Yamazaki scowled at her, scrolling through the call history, "The hell were you thinking, Furuhashi? She could have called anyone."
Good to know one of them has some common sense. She wasn't worried though, no matter how much the little shit went through her phone, he'd never find Midorima's name. While she wasn't a huge fan of using nicknames for contacts, Midorima had been in her phone as "Hello Kitty" since middle school. Not because of the lucky item he'd given her. No way.
No other reason than the fact it drove him insane.
"It would have been dealt with," Furuhashi countered. Unlike his teammate, he didn't seem concerned at the possibility, "It was a better choice to remove another possible witness. I told you, Makoto doesn't want a scene."
"I know, but—" Yamazaki growled before shaking his head and tossing the phone, "Whatever. Catch."
Trying to ignore the way they treated her belongings, Hana canted her head to the side and stared at Hara, "You can let him go now."
She tried not to look at Kuroko as she met Hara's gaze head on, but it was hard. Kuroko's depthless blue eyes were locked on her face, watching her with a keen observance she'd become familiar with. Not the time for soul searching, Tetsuya. It would have been more potent of a stare if Hara didn't still have his arm looped around his shoulders like a noose.
"I guess so," Hara teased. A small malevolent grin tugged at the flesh between his cheeks, "But maybe I should wait. You're a pretty good liar, aren't you, manager-chan?"
Damn Torio to all hell. She tried not to twitch, "Cut the shit," catching the way Hara's arm tensed on Kuroko's shoulders, Hana plowed on, "I bet Torio's told you all about my weakness now. Can't lie to people I'm scared of and let me tell you, I'm feeling pretty damn terrified right now."
It was a lie mixed with a truth.
She was scared. Scared for Kuroko, scared for herself. But mostly Hana was nervous. There was a second part of her plan she needed to play out and it couldn't start rolling until Kuroko was safely out of the danger zone. Come on, take the bait, you idiot.
Unfortunately, this plan was a double-edged sword. Each second she spent stalling was one more second closer to when backup would arrive. It was also an extra second Furuhashi had to go through her phone. Hana was hoping he'd stick to the initial page of generic information she'd brought up in her notes, but knowing him and his bullshit, he'd get curious and start exploring.
That's when things would get dicey.
Hana was pretty meticulous with her organization, but it was in a manner that would make sense to her. The general team information was kept in the front of the notes, but the deeper you went into the connected archives, the more clarity the information provided. Luckily, for Hana's sake at least, her app stored based on timestamp. Meaning all the miracles were hosted near the bottom— signaling them as the first entry to her list and hopefully deep enough to pass his notice.
Speaking of the devil, Furuhashi peered over to his teammate, "Let him go, Hara. We've got what we needed."
Hara did as told. Good dog. Once Kuroko was out of harm's way, Hana twisted her gaze back to Furuhashi, "You're just going to take it? Didn't think petty theft was in your wheelhouse."
"I'm returning a favor," Furuhashi didn't look up as he responded, "Makoto sends his regards."
Oops. That answered her question about the wallet. While she could see the logic in that, she wasn't willing to roll over so easily, "Hanamiya had like jack shit in his wallet. I could barely afford lunch with it," not going to mention Hyuuga took it, but whatever, "That's not an equal trade."
As she spoke, she kept an eye on Kuroko. He'd slowly edged away from Hara, but unlike someone with a shred of common sense, he was coming closer to her and not the other way around. While she appreciated the inherent protectiveness in the gesture, it ate away at her time and not in a good way. Gonna have to get a move on it.
Hovering near Furuhashi's shoulder, Yamazaki snorted, "Hanamiya doesn't work that way—"
"Hana-cchi!"
And there goes planning.
Before anyone could turn to address the new attendees, Hana moved. Her shoulder connected to Furuhashi's arm first, forcing him off balance just enough to loosen his hold on her phone. There was a surprised noise and a curse, but even as Yamazaki's arms snatched her by the shoulders— Hana was twisting, her own hand coming down to smack at Furuhashi's hard enough for him to drop the phone.
The next thing she heard before Yamazaki's arms looped around her chest in a reverse bearhug, was Kuroko's panicked, "Hana!"
"I'm fine!" She reared her head back, keeping her eyes on her phone as her head connected to the hard bone of Yamazaki's chin. As he let go, she darted forward, "Give me a— second—"
The phone was between Furuhashi's feet. Just need a second! His lifeless eyes met hers, annoyance, and something shaded growing in his expression. Like Seto, he wasn't stupid, realizing her intent before she could move. His hand came up, either to grab at her like Yamazaki or something more nebulous.
If I get punched in my damn face today, I'm going to kill Hanamiya—
She caught a glimpse of green before someone grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away.
It was just the opening Hana needed to slam her foot down, snapping her phone screen down the middle.
Abruptly, the frenzy of movement surrounding her halted. Not willing to risk another repeat of the whole thing, Hana slammed her foot down a second time— smirking at the way Yamazaki hissed behind her. Double shot!
"Oh no," she deadpanned, "It's broken."
Victorious, Hana lifted her head with a feral grin. Only for it to quickly putter off in confusion. There were a lot more bodies in the hallway than she'd been expecting. The sight of Kirisaki Daiichi was well anticipated, as were their various expressions of fury and frustration. Yamazaki in particular looked like he'd swallowed a very sour lemon.
"You bitch—" he surged forward, but a large hand grabbed him by the back of his collar and practically threw him toward the wall.
Murasakibara moved behind him, his stature taking up most of the hallway. Hello? Where the hell did you come from? Lilac eyes, normally lazily and annoyed, were now hard with a chilly apathy. Long strands of purple hair hung around his chin, evidently escaped from the hold of his ponytail. He didn't look at her— keeping his sole focus on Yamazaki as the smaller boy glowered.
"I suggest you don't finish that statement," the steel in Midorima's tone brokered no argument and even Hana found her mouth clicking shut, "You won't like what happens."
He was standing next to Furuhashi, Takao at his side. One taped hand was outstretched and latched around the Kirisaki Daiichi player's wrist, squeezing in a way like the hold Furuhashi had grabbed her with. He didn't let him move. Beside him, Takao glared at the rival player before scanning his keen gaze over the rest of the group— frown growing.
Near Hara, Kise was standing next to Kuroko. His long arms were crossed tightly over his chest, staring down Hara and begging him to move. He reminded her a bit of Aomine right now, coiled like a viper and waiting to strike. Hara shuffled once and near instantly, narrowed gold eyes pinned him in place.
Unlike his former teammates, Kuroko didn't spare the rival players another look, rushing forward to stand next to Hana's side and catching her before she could do so much as breath. Concerned blue eyes met her own and immediately, she was enveloped into a hug. As he pulled her close, she could feel his heart beating hard beneath his uniform.
Seto, the only one without an escort, yawned. Throughout it all, he hadn't moved from his perch against the wall. His dark stare flickered once to Murasakibara before switching to Midorima and staying there, "I think we're done here. Don't you?"
Murasakibara scowled, but Midorima cut in before anyone could say anything they'd regret, "It appears so," despite the allowance, he took a threatening step forward, "I will warn you now, there will be consequences."
"Understood," Seto drawled, but his lips twitched. Just the slightest bit, "Looks like we'll have to finish this on the court."
Yamazaki wasn't so keen to give up, "Hanamiya's going to be pissed—"
"He'll handle it," pushing off the wall, Seto waved the concern away without a backwards glance, "Let him take care of the trash, Yamazaki."
He led the silent parting of the rest of Kirisaki Daiichi. While Yamazaki didn't hesitate to offer another venomous glare in her direction, Hara laughed. It was a low, teasing sound and the smirk he tossed over his shoulder as he ducked past Kise promised more to come. Stepping out of Midorima's range, Furuhashi blinked before shaking his head and following his teammates stead.
While it was a bit difficult to breathe due to Kuroko's hold, it didn't stop Hana from getting the last word, "Tell Hanamiya he's got to try harder next time! I'm not—"
A hand fell over her mouth, Kuroko's stern glare meeting her own affronted expression, "Do not encourage them, Hana."
She didn't try to fight it. Mainly because there was still tension hanging in the air and she didn't want to get on the bad side of the vibe. She also had a vague sense that if she stepped out of line, Kuroko wouldn't hesitate to lock her in the nearest supply closet. No, thank you. By Kuroko, Murasakibara continued to frown at the back of the rival team as they ventured down the hall and out the doors.
Hana didn't want to think about what might be rolling through his head— nor about what Akashi may hear when this was all said and done. Knowing him, he'd try to kill her just for involving his precious teammates in another scandal of her own making.
Meanwhile, Kise turned his affronted stare to Midorima, "Midorima-cchi—"
"Leave them," Midorima didn't watch them leave, his steely gaze focused on her, "Their fate is sealed."
That really shouldn't have sounded so threatening, but Midorima nailed the scary mafia vibe Kirisaki Daiichi failed at. With the sheen of the lights reflecting off his glasses, he looked one second away from murder. While he wasn't the scariest of his former team, Midorima was inching ever closer to that label with the way he frowned down at her. Yeah, should have gone with Taiga for backup.
At least he'd vocalize his thoughts.
"Kuroko-kun?" Takao called out, the first to bridge the silence, "What happened?"
Letting go of her mouth to respond, Kuroko recounted the events, "We were cornered. Hara-san passed our team in the hall early, shoving Hana, but he must have been keeping an eye on our exit. The rest of his team appeared shortly after."
"They wanted my notes," Hana chimed in, trying not to wince at the way all their eyes turned to her, "Said it was only fair since I helped Shutoku out. I told them to go eat a dick and well, you saw how that went."
Awareness sparked in Midorima's face, but it didn't temper his scowl, "You knew this would happen. Didn't you, Imamura?"
That was a reach. She might have expected some fallout, but nothing at this scale. Hana didn't hesitate to voice her opinion, "I knew they'd be pissed, but I didn't think they'd do anything about it today. I was expecting to deal with their shit tomorrow— a twenty-four hour waiting period is only polite."
"And you intended to deal with it yourself?" Midorima took a step forward, ire growing in his jade stare, "Don't be a fool. You knew they were planning something and yet you—" his lecture abruptly cut off, a strange flare of emotion taking over his face, "You shouldn't have intervened."
What?! She gawked back at him, "They were planning on hurting you! I wasn't just going to sit on my ass and let them!"
He didn't like that. A pink flush built in his cheeks, but for once, it wasn't due to embarrassment, "And if they hurt you? What would you do then?"
"I'd—" she stumbled through her explanation, knowing I'd deal with it wasn't going to earn her any favors, "I'd—"
In just two more swift steps, Midorima was in front of her. The light from the hallway shadowed his face, but not well enough to hide the curious crinkle of pain in the corner of his eyes. His entire presence seemed to fill the area, his next statement an order. "Do not risk yourself on our behalf," mouth pinched tight, Midorima held her stare until she was forced to look away, "I won't allow it."
She gaped, lost for words, "I didn't—"
"She won't," Kuroko cut in before she could finish, "I promise, Midorima-kun."
It wasn't what she was going to say, but Midorima appeared satisfied by his declaration. Really? You're just going to take Tetsu's word for it? He's worse than me! Midorima nodded once before twisting his attention to the floor. Like he hadn't been reaming her a new one just five seconds ago, he stared at the decimated remains of her phone spread across the tile. A furrow built in his brow, thoughts she'd never be privy to racing through his head.
Kise, on the other hand, wasn't so afraid to vocalize them, "Why did you break your phone, Hana-cchi?"
"It has, uh had my notes in it," she explained, slumping in Kuroko's arms with a tired eye roll. Men and their damn emotions. "Their manager's had a hard on for them since he started bugging me. Figured it would be better to just get rid of it then deal with this shit later."
Nose scrunching, Kise frowned, "But now you don't have a phone. We could have helped get it back."
She lifted her shoulders in half a shrug, the only movement Kuroko's unrelenting hold would allow, "To be honest, I wasn't expecting a five man back up squad. I was hoping for at least Midorima— so I thought if I killed the thing we were fighting over, the fight would you know, be over."
Takao snorted. Out of all of them, he was the only one who didn't look like their puppy had been held at gun point, "They were pretty mad. You've really got a knack for making friends, Imamura-chan."
She couldn't agree more, "If I make it to the Winter Cup without dying, I'm calling it a win."
"Hana-cchi! Don't talk like that!"
Easy for him to say. Kise really should try being a manager one of these days. Let him see how much he likes dealing with these assholes. If it wasn't Torio and Kirisaki Daiichi taking her out, Akashi was still cradling a knife somewhere in the background. Sooner or later, one of them was going to get their pound of flesh. She'd just have to see who got there first.
Before she could voice that pessimistic train of thought, a giant hand landed on the top of her head. Long fingers squeezed once before the hand retreated with a gentle pat, "Bad, Mura-chin."
"Don't fuss at me—" she went to smack at his hand, but Kuroko still hadn't released her from his hug, "Why are you even here, Murasakibara?"
Purple eyes blinked back at her. Curiously, they weren't tinged with his usual apathy, "Mine-chin told me to come. I see why. You're a lot of trouble, Mura-chin."
She glared, both at Aomine's involvement and Murasakibara's sass, "That little shit. I'm going to—"
"I'm glad you could make it, Murasakibara-kun," Kuroko cut her off again. Finally, he let go of her and stepped out of the impromptu hug. When she caught sight of his frown, she almost wished he hadn't, "I appreciate your help."
That makes one of us. Now, don't get her wrong. Hana was stoked to be able to leave that little altercation without a black eye, but four of them? Her heart couldn't take this. The adrenaline from Kirisaki Daiichi's bullshit and the weird, gross, nasty feelings in her chest were clashing together horribly. The only thing that could make this whole thing worse was if—
The door Kirisaki Daiichi left out of suddenly smacked open, the entire group freezing at once. Before she could so much as blink, Kise's hand was on her shoulder, gently tugging her back, and Murasakibara was turning around. Except it wasn't the purple of Kirisaki Daiichi's uniform that greeted her. It was worse.
"Good," Aomine drawled, pushing a wayward strand of navy hair out of his face as he stepped into the hallway, "You're still here. I'm starving."
The door whacked shut behind him.
Hana was already moving, "Oh, hell no. I'm leaving—"
Or not. Kise wasn't letting go. Even when she jabbed an elbow into his side. Instead, he grinned, "Aomine-cchi! You said you couldn't make it," his gentle tugging turned into full out manhandling as he looped an arm over her shoulders, "Where were you?"
He merely yawned, sharp teeth flashing in the light, "Had something to take care of."
Aomine left it at that. No clarification whatsoever. Typical Aomine bullshit. Unlike Hana, Kuroko apparently didn't need the dirty details. He blinked once before he addressed his former teammate, "Oh, I see. Thank you, Aomine-kun."
"Thank you?" Hana gaped at him around Kise's shoulder, "Why are you thanking him—" she twisted her attention to the man in question, scowling at his smug smirk before her attention drifted downward. Her thoughts abruptly paused, "Why are your knuckles bruised?"
Now that she had time to really look him over, it wasn't merely a bruise. Reddish tones marred the skin above his fingers, but there was a strange fleck of red on the collar of his shirt. She squinted, trying to get a closer look, but he wouldn't have that. Of course not. Hiking his brows toward his hairline, Aomine smirked at her before canting his head toward Murasakibara.
"Don't worry about it," without breaking stride, he turned on his heel and vanished out the door he came from, "I'm hungry and I owe that asshole dinner. Hurry up, already."
Without asking what kind of demon suddenly possessed Aomine, Kise followed with a jubilant skip to his step. He didn't stop to ask Hana for her opinion before dragging her along for the ride, "Aomine-cchi~ I didn't know you cared!"
Aomine scoffed, "I don't. You're buying."
"Wait, what— Aomine-cchi!"
Hana gawked between them. What happened to the tension?! Last thing she'd been tracking, Aomine and Kise were at each other's throats. There was no way they'd suddenly smoothed everything over from their last game this quickly. It shouldn't be possible.
Frantically, she threw a look over her shoulder, "What the fuck is happening right now?"
If she'd been looking for help, it was nowhere to be found. Kuroko followed in their stead, a minute smile lighting up the planes of his face, "I'm not sure what you're talking about."
Beside him, Midorima was stiff as board. Like Hana, he didn't seem to know what to do about this strange alternate dimension they'd unexpectedly found themselves in. Casting an annoyed look over his assembled teammates, he shook his head once before walking in the other direction, "I'm leaving. Takao, come on—"
"Mido-chin," Murasakibara snatched the lingering player by the back of his uniform collar, "Hurry up. I'm hungry too."
There was a brief scuffle where Midorima tried to remove his grip, but it was no use. Once Murasakibara had his mind set on something, there was no going back. Midorima seemed to come to the same conclusion. Snatching the taller player's hold off his shirt, he huffed once in discontent before falling in line with the rest of his old teammates. Obediently, Takao followed.
As Kise continued to chatter in her ear and Kuroko refused to meet her eye, Hana suddenly had the urge to scream.
Where the hell is this sudden teamwork coming from?!
xXxXx
Fifteen minutes later, Hana found herself stuffed in a booth between Kuroko and Aomine.
On the other side of Kuroko, Kise prattled off their order to the waitress. Her poor hand was shaking as she struggled to capture the entirety of the five entrée items Murasakibara had requested and the strange modifications Midorima ordered for his dinner. Opposite of Kise, Takao tried to clarify as best as he could, mortification growing as the order just kept going.
"I should have called Taiga," muttering mutinously under her breath, Hana glared at the men on the other side of the table, "I didn't know this was a setup."
Midorima didn't meet her eye, instead choosing to glare at the ceiling. He'd gotten the short end of the stick in their seating arrangement. Pushed between Takao and Murasakibara, he'd scarcely moved since he'd been forcefully shoved into the restaurant. The hand he had perched on the table tensed as Murasakibara stretched, pulling a tattered bag of chips out of his pocket.
Taking the side of the booth closest to the wall, Aomine slouched in his seat. His eyes had been closed for the last five minutes, but at her voice, one peeked open, "It's your own fault. If you wouldn't be such a pain in the ass, none of this would happen."
"I tried to help," she repeated for the fifth time in a row, "I was helping. Can't you appreciate my good deed and stop being an asshole for like, ten seconds?"
"Don't be so loud, Mura-chin," Murasakibara drawled. It wasn't as effective with chips half-way shoved down his throat, "You'll scare Mido-chin."
"Don't involve me in this nonsense," green eyes flicked toward the giant at his side in annoyance, Midorima's spine shooting straight at the sound of Murasakibara's chewing, "I had no part in this scheme."
Ah ha! Hana jutted a finger at him from across the table, "So you admit it was a scheme!"
"When is it not a scheme when you're involved?" Midorima levied back even as he tried to unsuccessfully scoot away from Murasakibara, "In the end, it all falls back to you and your half-witted plans."
"That half-witted plan you're bitching about saved you from a broken nose—"
He scowled, "I would have been fine. Victory was assured."
"Sure, it was. I bet Takao appreciated my notes—"
"It's okay, Midorima-kun," Kuroko cut into the conversation before they could derail it further. He took a sip of his milkshake before mildly offering, "You can say thank you."
"Is this—" Takao blanched, done with ordering. Grey eyes flickered between the entire party before he swallowed, "Are you flirting?"
Are you kidding me? Hana flushed as she snarled, "No! What part of this is flirting?!"
Takao either didn't hear her or chose not to. He continued muttering in increasingly panicked intervals, "Am I sixth wheeling?" Hana went so far as to lob a wadded-up napkin at him, but he didn't do anything more than whine, "Seirin was right! Shin-chan— I thought you were dating!"
That snapped Kise out of his thoughts, "Dating?! Midorima-cchi! How could you!"
While Midorima choked on air, Aomine snorted. Unlike Kise, he didn't seem too miffed about that statement. He'd since sat up from his slouch and his focus was now on Murasakibara, "I was surprised you actually came."
"Sa-chin promised snacks," Murasakibara shrugged. Lazy purple eyes blinked at Aomine from across the table, "I didn't have anything better to do."
"That's interesting," Kuroko added, taking another sip of his milkshake, "I didn't expect Akashi-kun to allow it."
Well, there goes the moderately stress-free atmosphere. Talk about a mood killer. Embarrassment forgotten, Midorima jerked to a halt. His shoulders curved high, a suspicious flare growing in his gaze as he turned to Murasakibara, "Akashi knows?"
"He better not," Hana threatened. Using one of her chop sticks as a weapon, she lobbied it in Murasakibara's general direction, "Do you want me to die? Because Akashi will kill me."
Not before he gave her a lecture about how terrible she was, probably. He'd likely include some anecdote about how she was distracting his former teammates from their full potential, blah, blah, blah. Unfortunately, or fortunately in Murasakibara's case, their waitress came back with their food at just the right moment. As she passed the plates out amidst them, Hana didn't take her glare off Murasakibara's face.
Only when his pile of food was stacked high, did Murasakibara move. Grabbing a shrimp dumpling by its tail, he plopped it into his move with a tired shrug, "Dunno. Aka-chin wasn't surprised when I told him I was going to Tokyo."
"Well, shit," Hana slumped back into her seat, ramen forgotten in front of her, "That means he definitely knows. Akashi knows everything."
"Probably," Murasakibara agreed. He didn't seem too worried, "But Aka-chin doesn't care."
"Sure, he doesn't," taking a stab at her food, she shoved it angrily into her mouth, "I'm telling you, if I somehow make it to Winter Cup alive, I'm taking a vacation. Maybe Taiga will fly me out to California."
Ignoring the complaints that comment spurred from Kise, Hana focused herself on her food. It was the only safe thing to do right now. Shoving another full bite of noodles into her mouth, Hana scowled down at the bowl. This situation was still too weird for her to fully comprehend. She had five of them here. Five of them! And not only that, but they'd been nice. Protective.
It was too much for her little emotionally repugnant heart to take.
"Hey, Hana-cchi—" Kise's curious drawl broke her out of her eye contest with the table. When she blinked over at him, he tilted his head in a remarkably canine manner, "I've been meaning to ask, but what happened with Kirisaki Daiichi's manager?"
She quirked a brow, "They didn't tell you?"
"No, Kuroko-cchi said he didn't want to talk about it in the group chat—" Kise abruptly cut off with a cough, his arm coming to cradle his stomach as he pouted at Kuroko, "That hurt!"
Great. The group chat exists. Kill me now. Trying to not focus on that new tidbit of information, Hana shrugged. She slurped up another noodle before trying to explain, "Torio was my old captain, back when we were first years. He graduated and went to Kirisaki Daiichi. Came back third year and tried to recruit me. I punched him in the face. Now we're mortal enemies."
Kise gaped, "When did that happen? I don't remember—"
"Last game I played with you in Teiko," she shoved another bite of noodles in her mouth, refusing to make eye contact, "We had a moment and he dropped it on me. Thought about it for like a day. Luckily, I saw his team in action during the tournament and didn't follow through."
That shut the table up pretty fast. Which was damn good timing. Hana didn't want to dive into the emotions that statement held. It was awkward enough even bringing it up around so many of them. Sure, they knew they'd hurt her back then, but she'd never laid all the cards out on the table. Nor will I ever, thank you very much.
"Kirisaki Daiichi tried to recruit you?" Takao broke in. He had half a shrimp hanging out of his mouth as he gaped at her down the table, "That's terrifying."
Jabbing a finger at him, Hana nodded, "He gets it. You guys should be thankful I never got to live out my villain arc."
Not that she would, but well, middle-school Hana could have easily taken a different route. That type of revenge had never been on the forefront of mind after Akashi's bullshit at Teiko, but that was likely because Hana had the benefit of a strong support group. If it'd been just her? No Uoya, Iseri, or Kitano? Well, things might have turned out very differently between them all.
"It would appear so," surprisingly, it was Midorima who broke the awkward tension first. He was watching her across the table, an odd look on his face, "You're formidable enough in Seirin."
What. Hana paused with another bite of noodles halfway to her mouth, "Was… was that a compliment? It sounded like a compliment."
Midorima didn't answer her question, instead focusing on his own plate of food. There was a pinkish tinge to the flesh of his ears that gave him away though and for a second, Hana couldn't look away. That was totally a compliment. Her heart nearly skipped a beat, confusion and a weird type of embarrassment clashing for space inside her stomach. She immediately batted it down with a well-practiced shove. Bad hormones.
Taking the conversation back to safe ground, Kuroko twisted his head toward her, "And Hanamiya-san's wallet?"
"Caught that didn't you?" Hana smirked, plopping the bite of food into her mouth before shrugging, "One of my finer moments, I think. Took it the night he hurt Kiyoshi."
Kuroko blinked once then twice before he tilted his head back to his plate. It wasn't fast enough to hide the small smile that bloomed between his cheeks even as he shook his head in disappointment, "You shouldn't steal, Hana."
"Kuroko-cchi's right!" Kise leaned around him to playfully scowl at her. There was still a strange somber tint to his expression, one mirrored in Aomine and strangely Murasakibara, "How many wallets have you taken now? Just the two?"
She only shrugged, falling into the teasing, and ignoring the awkward tension of their lingering past with practiced ease, "That you know of."
The open-ended response was enough to send Kise into another spiel and Hana let it wash over her and the rest of the table. Aomine eventually joined in with a few personal jabs at Kise's personality, which forced Midorima to scowl and tell him to shut up. Before long, the entire table was dragged back into conversation and even with Takao's addition, it felt right.
It felt like it had been.
By the time the conversation ended, they'd finished their food nearly an hour ago. Crawling out from the table, Takao lifted his arms over his head and stretched. His grunt of relief was nearly eclipsed by the yawn that crawled out of his throat. On the other end of the table, Kise repeated the same action, twisting his arm back and sighing when his shoulder popped.
"Ouch," he hissed, rubbing at his shoulder blade with a pout, "I'm going to be so sore tomorrow, Kuroko-cchi~"
"I'm sure you'll be fine, Kise-kun," Kuroko deflected as he stood up. Offering a generous hand to Hana, he helped her to her feet all while addressing the rest of the group, "It was nice to see you all. I hope we can do this again."
Aomine scoffed, obnoxiously crawling over the back of the booth instead of waiting for his turn to get up, "Don't get all sentimental, Tetsu."
"You're just being a dick because this was your idea," Hana countered. Reflexively, she went to pull her phone out of her pocket only to whine when she remembered it'd died a brutal death, "Dammit. This phone thing is going to get old fast."
Midorima caught that, a slight furrow to his brow growing as he stood up, "That was a poor decision. You shouldn't have thrown away your only advantage before our game tomorrow."
"Wow, thank you for that vote of confidence," Hana deadpanned, cutting her eyes up at him before scoffing, "We're going to win anyway— I don't need notes to know how to beat you."
While Midorima quirked a disbelieving brow, her comeback only made Takao laugh, "Big words, Imamura-chan! Don't get cocky~"
And there he goes. Being a dick. She snarled, twisting on her heel to smack at him, "Come here— I'll show you cocky—"
"Hana-cchi~" Kise's arms wrapped around her in a very unwelcomed hug, "Don't ruin the moment. We're bonding!"
What is it with you assholes and bonding! Kise couldn't see Hana roll her eyes, but they very nearly got launched into the back of her skull with the force of the movement. Arms propped over the back of the booth, Aomine caught the action and a smile ticked up his cheeks. It was almost juvenile in appearance. His face suddenly looked younger, cheeks no longer strained with the force of his arrogance.
The slack in self-control vanished as quick as it came, and before Hana could really treasure the change, Aomine scoffed as he moved toward the door, "You better figure out something soon, Imamura. If you manage to make it to finals, you're going to need all the help you can get."
"If this is bonding," Hana offered blandly, "I don't want any part of it."
"Whatever," Aomine waved her snark off, rubbing a finger in his ear as he stalked toward the exit, "Try not to be an idiot."
Whatever comeback she prepared was trumped by Kuroko's pleased response, "Goodbye, Aomine-kun. It was good to see you."
If he expected a reply, he didn't get one. It didn't seem to bother Kuroko in any way, his satisfied smile transferring to her without a hitch in intensity. Tone it down, Tetsuya. She met his eye with a raised brow, trying and failing to mentally express her annoyance with this entire get together.
"I'm tired," Murasakibara whined in the sudden silence. He was the only one that hadn't gotten out of the booth. Perching his chin on his arms, he blinked up at Midorima, "Can I stay at your house, Mido-chin? I don't want to take the train."
"No, I'm leaving," Midorima was moving before Murasakibara could finish speaking, latching onto the back of Takao's uniform and taking him along for the ride, "I'll see you tomorrow, Kuroko. I hope you are prepared for your defeat."
"I'm prepared to play, Midorima-kun," Kuroko nodded easily, ignoring the jab with ease, "May the best team win."
The Shutoku players didn't have much to say beyond that, but just as Midorima reached the door, he paused. Twisting his head over his shoulder, he caught Hana's eye, "Imamura."
"Midorima," she copied the address, propping her hands on her hips. See? I can be grumpy too!
He watched her, green gaze traveling down from her face to the soles of her shoes. Mouth pinching, Midorima swallowed, seeming to struggle with articulating whatever it was he wanted to say. Time clicked down, seconds growing before he shook his head and sighed, "Thank you."
Without another glance, he was gone. The door clicked shut on his heels.
"Oh," Hana was left standing there, feeling a bit like a fool, "Well, uhm—"
That wasn't what she'd thought he'd say. Tongue feeling too heavy for her mouth, Hana shuffled on her feet— looking anywhere other than at the boys beside her. Her heart felt odd, too heavy for her chest. Something like happiness skittered through the defenses of her walls and she huffed, suddenly pissed off at herself. Come on, Hana, grow some balls.
Before her thoughts could get the better of her, Kuroko slated his hand into her own, "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah—" Hana swallowed, blinking away the strange emotion, "Let's get out of here."
As they made their way to the door, she offered one last peek over her shoulder. That damn nostalgia hit her straight in the chest, arms going slack as she watched Kise slide into the booth next to Murasakibara and poke him in the arm. There was a familiar groan of annoyance, but it did little to deter Kise's pestering, "You can stay with me, Murasakibara-cchi!"
Murasakibara swatted at his hand, "No. Go away—"
Kuroko opened the door for her and Hana took a steadying breath. Focus on the present, bitch. Unfortunately, that meant looking at Kuroko. The streetlights caught the shine of his hair, making the soft blue strands glow almost purple as he glanced at her. Unlike Hana's turbulent emotions, Kuroko was clearly pleased with the way the night turned out. His cheeks were rosy and the smile he'd worn most of the night grew soft when she caught his eye.
She tried to smile back, but it felt odd on her face. There was too much in her head, too many emotions. As the group broke apart again, like they always did, Hana prayed to Satan's asshole that this never happened again.
She didn't think her heart could handle it.
xXxXx
Earlier that evening…
"Cut me some slack, woman," Aomine drawled into the phone. Back against the retaining wall separating the street from the sidewalk, shaded navy eyes watched the stadium's exit, "I know what I'm doing."
Momoi continued to nag, making his mouth tighten in annoyance, "Ima-chan won't like this—"
"She'll be fine," he scoffed at the thought.
That damn woman. Momoi was right, Imamura would probably throw a fit if she had any idea what he planned to do. Her stupid sense of self-righteousness was grating on his nerves. Aomine wouldn't consider himself kind or merciful by any means, but he knew a piece of shit when he saw it. He wasn't going to let an idiot like this fuck around with Seirin's chances. There was only one person who'd beat Seirin and that was him.
"But what if—"
He didn't hear the rest of the sentence. His spine straightened as he crawled to his full height, the man he'd been waiting for stepping out of the doors and descending the steps. He didn't even have to move to greet him. Nose stuck in his phone, Kirisaki Daiichi's manager didn't notice who'd he'd just passed until Aomine called out to him.
"Oi," startled black eyes swung to him, his target's placid expression immediately dissolving into fury when he spotted Aomine's slouched figure, "I need to talk to you."
Aomine had never liked this kid. Not when Imamura brought him into the gym during third year and not when he was a freshman, watching the second-string team practice. Remembering the way he'd talked to Imamura then and now— all the motivation he needed to deal with this problem was suddenly in his grasp.
"Aomine Daiki," the kid smiled, all sharp teeth and intentional impudence, "Did you come to watch the game?"
Stalking from his perch, Aomine took a lazy step forward, "Nah, I don't care about that."
He knew they had it handled. Knew Imamura had it handled. Aomine didn't give a shit about what kind of stunt this idiot thought he could pull. Tetsuya and Imamura had the strength to deal with it and if they didn't, he made sure someone was there that could.
"That's a shame. I'm sure Hana could really use your help—" he glanced at his phone, a dirty smirk blooming between his thin cheeks, "You might have enough time."
"She's fine," Aomine took another step forward, the shadow from the sun eclipsing Torio's body, "You should worry about yourself."
He blinked, momentarily startled, "What—"
Aomine didn't give him a chance to finish.
Thank you for all the love and comments!
They fuel me and my imagination better than any coffee could!
Special shout out to Shivi who sent me some amazing fanart they made! If you get a chance, please check it out! It's beautiful!
