A few days late from my internal promise to update in a month. Hope you guys can forgive me. The next one will be faster because I split this in two because it's a big ol' boy. Also, apologies ahead of time but this one is mainly some filler and some character growth (it's got to go somewhere and boy oh boy, do these games drag).
As always, thanks for the love!
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke
Warnings: bad language, bad editing, bad writing (sorry friends, it's true)
(We're) Going Through Changes
Rain echoed against the front windows as dual-colored eyes scanned the woman in front of him, a distasteful hum creeping from his throat.
He hadn't missed the damp transition to fall that the tepid Tokyo weather so commonly brought. The greenery so familiar to Kyoto was nowhere to be found. Industrialism intermixed with a bustling pedestrian force, turning the city into a wet muddle of brown puddles and polluted air.
The hotel lobby had a pungent order of dried roses and bleach. The floor to ceiling windows behind the reception counter were streaked with thin trails of rain, collapsing into a thin puddle on the exterior façade of the building. Short nails tapped once against the marble countertop, blandly watching as the thin woman in front of him stumbled through the last section of his paperwork.
The noise made her startle— thin shoulders hiking high as she ran his card.
Another small sound crept out of this throat, a sour tinge of distaste building on his tongue as he observed her frantic movements. His eyes narrowed as her hand shook, dropping the card against the marble with a deafening clack. Sweat built on her temple, dampening the strands of thin hair that she kept tucked behind her ears. Terror seeped into the air, her posture curling inward as his focus drilled into her skull.
Her lack of spine caused his irritation to flare.
"Akashi-sama—" the receptionist fumbled over his name, her dry lips pinching as she pasted on a thin smile, "Here are your keys."
Her fingers continued to tremble as she held the twin key cards out. An exasperating flaw. Her fear wouldn't do well in this type of environment. Stare crawling over her face, he tilted his head minutely to the side before reaching over the barrier of the concierge desk. The startled catch of her throat wasn't enough to hide the way her fingers flexed, flinching at his sudden movement.
Casting an apathic glance toward the name tag fastened against her silk blouse, Akashi allowed himself to nod, "I trust the reservation is complete?"
"Yes, sir," the feeble woman bowed, bland strands of brown hair falling out of her thin ponytail. She didn't meet his eye, "This weekend and the next have been reserved for your use."
A brow hiked, mild bemusement slinking into his stare, "Good." Finger rolling over the curved edge of the key card, Akashi slipped it into the pocket of his ironed slacks, "Thank you, Shizue."
She made a stunned noise at the familiarity of her first name, but he didn't linger to see the way color crept up her cheeks. He knew enough about the woman from the span of their five-minute conversation to deem her worthless. The leather heel of his boots clicked against the marble floor of the empty hotel. The elevator automatically slid open at his appearance, a mirthless chuckle snaking out of his throat as he pushed the button for the highest floor.
The doors glided shut behind him, casting his form in shadow.
A sole orange eye gleamed.
xXxXx
"Narumi, you're a godsend. I owe you one—"
Her pen scratched against the napkin she had propped against her knees, the cool chill of the bench creeping up under her skirt. Spread out throughout the changing room, the team spared her a few strange looks. They'd been focused on switching into their uniforms for the Shutoku game the last fifteen minutes, but with the majority ready to go, it was starting to look like Hana was the last holdup. She tried not to pay attention, but it was hard.
Especially with the way her coach and captain were flambéing her with their eyes— focus, Hana!
The ever-patient Kagami broke the dam first. With half his shirt off, he twisted his head over his neck to scowl at her, "The hell is she doing?"
"I'm not sure," Furihata trailed off as he exchanged a look with Koganei, "She's been like this—" he waved his hand in the air in emphasis, "Since we showed up."
With a grunt, Kawahara threw his gym bag into an open locker and grumbled, "She practically tackled me when I walked in. Something about needing a phone."
That was a bit of an exaggeration. There had been no tackling. More of a gentle push—
A shove, if you will.
Kagami snorted in the background, but Hana didn't have a chance to focus on whatever no doubt rude verbiage he threw her way. Narumi was talking again and if she wanted a chance in hell of one-upping Midorima for this game she needed to pay attention.
Now, if he would just shut up about taking her on a date.
"Yeah, I saw that. Yup— Josei is doing great. Yeah, I saw that too—" She rolled her eyes before forcing the conversation back on track, "Yeah, Narumi, you're awesome. I didn't forget, I know— we'll get coffee before winter cup. Can we go back to Shutoku now?"
Hyuuga glared down at her at that subtle diversion, but Hana ignored him in favor of scribbling out another line of notes. Most of his information was basic, based off their few games with Shotoku before the preliminaries. Tied in with the analysis she'd done for their game against Kirisaki Daiichi yesterday, it was painting what Hana might consider a pretty decent picture.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
Sure, the decision to break her phone was the lesser of two evils, but it really hadn't sunk in just how bad it was until this morning. After nearly three hours spent flipping through her old notes from Teiko and coming up with jack shit, the reality sank in. Nothing matched. They'd grown, both in skill and personality, and the notes of the past didn't even begin to encompass them now.
Hence her early arrival to the stadium and the subsequent kidnapping of Kawahara's phone.
By the time she heard the blessed beep of the line cutting off, she'd collected an audience. Jesus, can't a girl plot world domination in peace? Choosing to ignore the inevitable for now, Hana scratched out another line of notes on the napkin, focusing on Narumi's recollection of Midorima's shooting range. Talk about a superpower. Ten three-pointers a game? Jesus. Crossing off all her metaphorical T's and dotting her I's, she finally gained enough balls to look up.
"So—" Hana trailed off, sheepish smile growing at their attention, "Here's our notes."
She raised the napkin in the air, letting the breeze of the air conditioner tug at the crinkled edges.
Only three little lines of scribbled notes stared back at her.
Her audience was sufficiently unimpressed. Really? Cut me some slack here. Hyuuga's brow was wrinkling near his headline, a worrying flare of irritation making itself physically known as he huffed a long breath through his nose. Hana would have preferred to deal with his wrath over the tensing of Riko's shoulders.
"Imamura-chan," the coach was the first to break the silence. Riko's mouth was set in a pleasant grin, but the curve of her eyes promised pain, "Why are they on a napkin?" Hazel eyes narrowed on the object in question, "Is that used?"
Hana blinked, green eyes flicking back down to her impromptu notepad. Huh, didn't notice that. She really hoped it was coffee, but for now she ignored the brown stain on the right corner of the crumpled sheet napkin, "Well— it's really a funny story—"
Hana planned to launch into a wonderful tale about how she was working on trying to save the environment— one sheet of paper at a time, but it seemed life had other plans. Other plans known as Kuroko. That's really turning into an issue these days.
"Her phone was broken during our altercation with Kirisaki Daiichi yesterday afternoon," Kuroko chimed in before her mouth could even open, "I apologize, I should have warned you."
And there goes tact. Riko's mouth dropped open once before it clicked closed, her thin hand outstretched into the air like she was going to grab Hana by the collar of her jacket. Behind her, Hyuuga and Izuki gawked. Well, Izuki gawked. Hyuuga just looked like he had a nasty case of hemorrhoids.
Choosing to focus on one issue at a time, Hana robotically turned her attention to the shit stirrer. The full span of her betrayal painted the curve of her glare, "Tetsuya, I'm going to kill you."
"Please don't," he merely stared back at her, "It was better to acknowledge it sooner rather than later."
Fair point, but not the problem. One green eye twitched, "You couldn't have waited like an hour—"
"You two ran into Kirisaki Daiichi?" Hyuuga cut her off, taking a step forward as he threw his hand between the two of them, "When did that happen?"
"It seriously wasn't that deep—"
"After the game yesterday," Kuroko interrupted again. Those deep, soul-sucking blue eyes of his were pinned on her face with an emotion that Hana refused to acknowledge as concern, "Hara-san and his teammates were waiting for us near the exit."
And didn't that just set everybody into an uproar? Before Hana had time to blink, her entire team began to talk at once. There was a smattering of colorful language exchanged, Kagami being the main highlight with his observation of her apparent stupidity, but her focus stayed rooted on Kuroko. Trying and failing to murder him with eye contact only. Just you wait, Tetsuya. Revenge will come.
He didn't look worried.
She'd change that.
Before she had time to think any further than how best to disembowel him, Riko's hand jutting into the air cut off her murder plots, "Explain."
Head hitting the wall behind her with a thump, Hana groaned, "Can't it wait until after the game—"
"No."
"Jesus christ, fine! Look it wasn't too bad— Tetsu's making it sound all sketchy and shit," scrubbing her hands on the hem of her skirt, Hana tried to collect her nerves. "We may have gotten cornered after the game and there may have been some words exchanged and maybe— uhm, there was a teeny-tiny bit of physical violence over my choice to help Shotoku out yesterday."
Again, Kuroko decided that her explanation was subpar. Like the little shit that he is.
"Kirisaki Daiichi was under the impression that Hana used an unfair advantage to help Shotoku win," Kuroko elaborated in the suddenly too quiet air, "They believed they should be gifted the same advantages and tried to steal her phone."
"Key word— tried!" Hana helped to clarify, wincing as Riko's face turned ashen and an alarming shade of red crept over her captain's cheeks, "I busted that bitch before they could take it."
It took five seconds for Kiyoshi's shoulders to fall. I feel like I just kicked a puppy. He'd been hanging on by a thread during the midst of the reveal, but apparently couldn't take it anymore. He stared at her, despair written all over his face as he whispered, "Imamura, I told you—"
"And you were right," she admitted, trying and failing to appear nonchalant, "Ten points to Gryffindor."
Mournful brown eyes stared at her, Kiyoshi's mouth pulling tight as he reprimanded, "Imamura, this is serious."
Well, shit. She knew that. It was the whole reason she'd broken her phone to smithereens. Instead of relaying that internal observation, Hana tried to paste on an appeasing smile, "Don't stress it, Kiyoshi. I knew it was a possibility, but I saved Shotoku from getting their ass beat— I can deal without a phone for a couple of days."
He was already shaking his head, "You need to stay out of this. Hanamiya isn't your fight."
Oh, but he was. Hana knew where Kiyoshi was coming from— his honorable shtick a familiar presence during these tense little get togethers, but what he didn't know was that Hana had history with Kirisaki Daiichi. Hanamiya may not be her problem, but Torio was.
Maybe it was time to enlighten them to that fact, "This would be a really bad time to tell you I punched their manager in the face, wouldn't it?"
Kiyoshi froze. Hana didn't even think he was breathing until he managed to spit, "You did what?"
"It was over a year ago, but yeah—" she motioned to the thin skin under her eye in explanation, "Nailed him pretty good. Hurt like a bitch though."
Wow. Who would have thought he could make that kind of face? Kiyoshi looked like he was going to throttle her— or maybe lock her up in a padded closet and hide the key. Riko didn't look much better. One hand was cupped over the coach's mouth as she gawped down at her, muttering something illegible under her breath.
"Anyway, he doesn't like me, I don't like him," Hana twisted her hand in a so-so motion, "So, technically speaking, Kirisaki Daiichi is still kind of my fight?"
Kuroko made a considering noise from where he'd bent to retrieve his water from his bag. Oh, no you don't! Hana had just enough time to scowl at him before he chose to drop another bombshell on their team, "It would also be a good idea to mention that their manager has been harassing you."
I'm going to rip your eyes out of your skull and shove them down your throat. Her brow twitched, "Okay, let's keep this on track—"
"What?" Hyuuga gaped just long enough for his furious red flush to creep into his hairline, "And you didn't think to mention that? Either of you?"
Taking a quiet sip of his water, Kuroko blinked, "Kagami-kun knew as well."
"Like hell I did!" The ace in question barked. It was severely impended by the shirt he still had hanging off his neck, "I thought it was just that one time—"
"You should pay more attention, Kagami-kun."
Ignoring the bickering pair of their freshmen starters, Kiyoshi drilled his stare into the side of Hana's skull instead, "What do you mean harassing? Imamura, has he been bothering you?"
"It's just been a few text messages—"
"There were also photos," Kuroko chimed in again, digging his grave further. He has to be doing this shit on purpose. "He confronted her after the game last weekend with Momoi-san and Aomine-kun as well."
Throwing her hands up, Hana hissed, "Can we not!"
"I'm going to say it again—" Hyuuga was pacing now. Not good. Pinching the skin between his eyes, he took a steadying breath before repeating, "Because apparently you freshmen have a problem with listening. Why didn't you say something?"
Kagami made a noise like he didn't agree with being lumped in with them, but Hana interrupted him before he could say something equally stupid, "Because it happened just before preliminaries. I was trying to handle it," she threw a glare at Kuroko for emphasis, "I didn't mean for it to be like a secret or anything—"
"How long?" Her captain echoed, grey eyes narrowing dangerously over his glasses, "Obviously it's been going on for a while."
Awh, shit. Hana winced, "A couple weeks?"
Kiyoshi's face went through an alarming array of color changes while Hyuuga stared. It wasn't a kind stare, "And you didn't think to mention it at all? You thought you and Kuroko could handle it all on your own?"
For safety's sake, she scooted a bit further down the bench before admitting, "If I say yes, will you kill me?"
Judging from the vein pulsing in his forehead, the answer to that question was a resounding maybe.
"That's enough," Riko drug her hands down her face, eyes squinting as she appeared to fight off a nasty headache, "We'll talk about this later. Just—"
"Look, I know I fucked up," Hana cut in before her coach could finish. Her palms were sweaty against the skin of her knees, but she tried to keep her head up high, "I'm already working on gathering new information and I know the game against Shutoku is going to suck without it, but I'm working on it—"
Whatever else she planned to say was thwarted by the thunk of Riko's clipboard nailing her in the head.
"That's not what I was going to say, you idiot," her coach was frowning, but Riko's hazel eyes were soft, "I don't care about that. We're worried, Imamura-chan. We just want to make sure you're safe."
Hyuuga made a noise of disagreement but didn't voice it. Instead, he shook his head, "Seriously, what is with you kids? That's what we're here for. You don't have to handle this kind of crap yourselves."
"He's right, Imamura," before Hana had a chance to flinch, Kiyoshi plopped down on the bench beside her. His palm landed on top of her head, fingers ruffling her hair before he admitted, "I know you're trying to look out for us, but you got to let us help you too. You can't save the world by yourself."
Izuki nodded, but his face was still pinched, "It is concerning that it's reached this level, though. I didn't think Kirisaki Daiichi would go that far."
"Izuki's got a point," Koganei frowned. He was still hovering by the lockers, Mitobe and Tsuchida right beside him, "Don't you think it's kind of excessive?"
Hyuuga shrugged. It did little to hide the irritation still clinging to his shoulders, "Well, it is Hanamiya."
That brought up another good point. Trying to ignore the way Kiyoshi was still petting her like a dog, Hana licked her lips before admitting, "About that— since we're being all honest and shit, I sort of maybe stolehiswallet."
There was a pregnant pause, Kiyoshi's hand falling to a standstill, "Can you repeat that?"
Hana sure as hell didn't want to, but oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that.
"So, technically, I stole Hanamiya's wallet. Uhm— after your game last year, we exchanged some words. It happened after the whole punching thing. He called me a bitch, I threatened him, yada-yada," she trailed off, looking to Hyuuga for backup, "That's how I gave it to you, anyway."
Riko's spine snapped straight, hazel eyes flinging toward a suddenly sheepish Hyuuga, "You did what?"
"Don't drag me into this!" He countered, but it did little to hide the sweat dripping down his brow at their coach's rage, "I didn't know how she got it!"
Really? Hana gave him a droll look, "You thought he just handed it to me?"
He swallowed, stare ping-ponging between Riko and Kiyoshi's dark focus, "Well—"
"Uhm, excuse me," Furihata cut in before Hyuuga could get started on forging together an explanation. Sometime during the conversation, he and the rest of the freshmen trio had congregated on the floor like elementary kids listening to an interesting story, "I'm not sure we understand what's happening?"
At once, all the upper classmen stopped talking. Oh god, this is not the time for this. Several looks were exchanged between them, most of them toward Kiyoshi. The man in question seemed like he'd been hit with a lead balloon— his shoulders slumped inward and a resigned flare curled the edge of his frown. When Hyuuga caught his eye a second time, he only nodded.
"Well, you'll hear about it sooner or later," Hyuuga sighed, exchanging a look with Riko before launching into his elaboration, "We played against Kirisaki Daiichi last year. We'd been doing good that season—"
Izuki finished where he couldn't, "Until we faced them. It was awful. Their style of play isn't right. I left that game with more bruises than I had all year."
"Seriously!" Koganei chimed in, Mitobe nodding along in agreement, "And they didn't get a single foul!"
The three freshmen leaned in closer, eyes all wide as they asked in tandem, "What happened?"
"We were winning, we did win. But—" Kiyoshi finally spoke. His hand had dropped from Hana's head a while ago, turning into fists against his thighs, "I'm sure you've all noticed my knee. That was the match where I injured it."
A cool chill seemed to sink into the air, all three freshmen jerking back in shock. Behind them, Kagami's lip curled up in a snarl. He hadn't moved from his spot against the farthest wall, but he didn't need to. The seething rage wafting off his figure spoke for him. Even Kuroko had frozen, wide blue eyes locked onto Kiyoshi's face.
"We don't have a way to prove it, but it looked like the player defending Teppei purposely landed on his leg," Riko finally admitted. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she refused to meet anyone's eye as she finished the story, "He spent the next couple of weeks in a sports rehabilitation facility at the hospital and we lost every game the rest of the season."
No one spoke for several seconds, letting the implications hang in the air. Hana didn't say anything, instead choosing to fiddle with the hem of her skirt. Sure, she'd seen it in person, seen the outcome face to face— but she'd never broached the topic any further. It hadn't been her place. They hadn't been her team.
But they are now.
"I'm okay," Kiyoshi added, a resigned smile pulling his face too tight, "But it was a close call."
When the silence from the rest of their teammates grew too long, Hyuuga jerked a finger in Hana's direction, "That's why we're so worked up about this. It isn't an issue for you freshmen to have to be dealing with— it's our problem."
"We just need you all to trust us to handle it," Kiyoshi confirmed with another pointed glance at Hana and Kuroko. It made Kuroko dip his head in acknowledgement, but Hana met his stare head on. Kiyoshi's face twisted into a frown, obviously not liking the deflection, "We're a team. Remember that."
Exactly. Hana countered mentally. That was exactly why she didn't plan on sitting on her ass when the time came. Because I will kill them before they even think about hurting anyone on this team.
When the time came, she'd be destroying Hanamiya and Torio just as much as the rest of them.
"Yeah, and you've got us now," Kagami grinned at Kiyoshi's declaration. It wasn't pretty. His teeth flashed white in the glow of the fluorescent lighting, "I can't wait to kick their ass."
The rest of the freshmen trio joined in with a war cry, "Yeah!"
Hana stared, face going slack as Koganei and Tsuchida joined in the cheering. What is it with men? Do they get off on emotional turbulence or something? Gods, even Kiyoshi was smiling and he'd looked seconds away from falling into one hell of a depressive episode. By the time the season's over, we're going to need a hell of a therapist.
Before she could voice her thoughts, Hyuuga snapped to attention. There was a watery sheen in his eyes and he refused to meet anyone's focus head on, "Don't get too excited! We've got a long road ahead of us! Focus on beating Shutoku first!"
"So, we're just going to roll past that," Hana muttered under her breath, watching with a vague sort of apathy as Furihata pulled Kawahara into a bro hug, "That's fine. Just another traumatic backstory shoved under the rug for plot development."
The comment made Kiyoshi chuckle, his hand falling back atop her head with another unwelcomed pat, "We all deal with stress in different ways."
She debated jabbing him with the sharp point of her elbow, but ultimately thought better of it, "I know— I just think Taiga's hard on for basketball is weird as shit."
"Try not to judge him too harshly," he ruffled her hair once before crawling to his feet, "You two really have a lot in common."
Hana was left gawking at his back, "We do— we do not!"
Another hearty cry drowned out the rest of her outrage and without further ado, Riko launched into the beginnings of their game plan. Pulling in information from their last game and their match up at training camp, she began to craft out how the pace of the game was going to go as the team listened in with an unnatural fervor. By the time she was done, they had about twenty minutes until the game began, but everyone looked raring to go.
"Practice your offensive maneuvers before the game starts," Riko ordered as the team marched out one by one. Patting Kagami on the back, she turned back to the locker room and zeroed in on the last two people left, "Kuroko, we're counting on your new drive. Don't blow it!"
Hana could only sigh. Hell of a pep talk, coach.
As the door shut behind Riko, Kuroko broke the silence and the morbid press of her thoughts, "I'm sorry if that was uncomfortable for you."
Ha. Understatement of the year. She glanced at her hand in thought before effectively deeming her notes useless. Wadding up the napkin, Hana lobbed it at his head, "You're worse than Taiga. Seriously, could you have chosen a worse time to drop that?"
She wanted to stay angry with him, but it was hard. Something that sounded an awful lot like her conscious chided at her that this could have all been avoided if she'd opened up in the first place. Hana promptly told it to shut the hell up. I've got bigger things to focus on. Namely, the slaughter of one Kuroko Tetsuya. Seeming to catch her indignation and simultaneously avoiding the projectile, Kuroko's brows hiked high.
She was only given a minute of murderous rumination before he stepped toward her, an arm extended in silent forgiveness.
"Probably not," he admitted. His hand was still outstretched in front of her, the beginnings of a rueful smile only just tipping the corners of his lips, "It needed to be said though. Our seniors deserve to know."
Of course, that's why he did it. Ugh, why did Kuroko have to be such a high example of moral standing? Making me look bad.
"Could have said it later, but nooo," Hana smacked her palm into his and allowed him to pull her to her feet, "Just had to be a dramatic little shit. Wasn't your white knight complex satisfied after last night?"
Between all the tossing and turning she did instead of sleeping, Hana was very much not over the fact they'd all sprung to her rescue like some bad Shonen manga. Next thing you know they'll have their own theme song. Honestly, they couldn't have chosen a worse time to turn a new leaf. She needed them to be helped her keep everything locked away and tucked back in her head for future Hana to deal with.
But since when did the rainbow squad ever match her expectations? No, instead of being their general egotistical dickheads, they'd come barreling into her life, helping her— reminding her of what they once had. It'd been nice. Too damn nice. In the span of a night, everything she'd considered fundamental in their new relationship was suddenly void. Screw those bastards and their savoir complexes.
If they'd just stayed away— if she hadn't had to face them all together— it might have been okay.
Instead, there was a strange feeling in her chest. Something a poet might label bereft.
Hana just called it bullshit.
Before she could blink, he reached a hand between them to teasingly poke her right on the tip of her nose, "Please don't be offended, Hana. It's okay to let people help you."
She could still feel the heat of his skin tickling against her nose even when he dropped his hand. Hana gawked, "Did you just? Tetsu—"
"I didn't know that everyone would come last night. I only contacted Kise-kun," he didn't let her finish, instead choosing to intertwine their hands together and lead her toward the door, "The others came because they care about you."
Instead of dwelling on the sticky feeling that brought up in her chest, Hana defaulted to her favorite diversion method as they made it into the hall. Sarcasm. "I'll be sure to ask Takao just how much he cares about me—"
"You could," again, like a tried-and-true master, Kuroko ignored her ire in favor of delivering another gut punch, "Or you could ask Midorima-kun. I'm sure the conversation would be better."
Her steps clicked to a halt. Did he… Hana stared at him. He stared back. Seconds clicked into minutes as she waited for some clarity on the shifty statement. None came. So, we're going to ignore that like it never happened. Great. Her eyes narrowed— chasing the brief flare of laughter in his gaze before she released a loud huff.
Not today, Satan.
"Oh my god, we are not doing this," smacking him in the arm, Hana jabbed a finger toward the rest of their teammates ahead, "Go hang out with Taiga or something. I can't handle this today."
And like the little shit he was, Kuroko blinked, "Would you rather discuss it tomorrow? I believe Murasakibara-kun is staying with Kise-kun for the weekend."
She was going to kill him. Stuff his disemboweled body in a suitcase and toss it down the river. Kagami wouldn't mind— he could find a new shadow to his blinding ego. Not moving from where her steps stalled, she dragged a hand down her face. If she was lucky, it'd manage to hide the godawful blush creeping over her cheeks.
Regrettably, judging from Kuroko's amusement, that wasn't the case.
"Tetsuya," Hana deadpanned in lieu of continuing the conversation, "Go away before I hit you."
He simply nodded. It did jack shit to hide the thin smile tainting his normally apathic face, "Of course. I agree, it's better to have these types of conversation in private."
"Tetsu. Go."
He listened, but it wasn't without mirth. In a few silent steps, he snuck up behind Kagami, surprising the fiery ace enough to let out a subdued screech. Laughter followed their steps and as Hana watched them stride through the stadium doors, she took a deep, steadying breath before roughly scrubbing at her cheeks.
Goddamn it.
This is not how she wanted to start this game.
xXxXx
She didn't know what to do with her hands.
As the team practiced before the game, Hana sat on the bench next to Riko and eyed the appendages in question. In any other circumstance, she'd be flipping through a docket of information and taking note of particularly troublesome opponents. Cough, cough, Takao. But without her phone and her backups, she was left quite literally empty handed.
To be fair, she'd picked up the napkin. You know— just in case.
"Okay," Hana eventually spoke, "This is bullshit."
She caught Riko's mouth twitch into a smirk, but the coach didn't turn to look at her as she countered, "The swear jar is still in effect, Imamura-chan. The only reason I'm not getting it right now is because I feel sorry for you."
"Thanks for that. Really feeling the love," releasing a sigh, Hana used her otherwise worthless hands to balance as she leaned back, "Glad to know the whole trauma bonding thing works. At least the team's worked up."
The team in question was cycling through various drills. Kuroko and Izuki took the center position and right point against an imaginary battle against Kiyoshi and Kagami, while Hyuuga practiced his free-line throws. Behind him, Furihata and Kawahara ran the length of the court to retrieve the balls. She lost track of Koganei for a second— only to see his cat like eyes pop up behind Kimura on Shotoku's side, making the rival player stumble in surprise.
"I wouldn't say it's just because of that," Riko hummed, peering down at her clipboard before tracing Kagami's figure on the court, "Kagami-kun is a really good motivator."
"That's one way to describe it, I guess," Hana scoffed, following her coach's focus. Better than calling him a raging asshole.
She didn't linger there for long though. Before her thoughts could catch up to her actions, Hana let her eyes trail over to the rest of Shotoku's line-up. Now, she'd like to say her attention went to Takao, but that would have been a bold-faced lie. No, Hana's traitorous eyes locked in on Midorima and stayed there— crawling over the line of his back as he practiced shooting into his team's net.
Truth be told, she hadn't really known what to expect from him after his spontaneous rescue attempt yesterday evening. Maybe a glare? A quick jab about how troublesome she was and how she needed to do better? What she sure as shit wasn't expecting was silence. Since entering the gym, Midorima hadn't looked her way once.
Not that she noticed, of course.
It was just weird. Sure, Midorima was quiet, but he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Not to her at least. Now though, it was like he was stuck in his own head. Green eyes trailed over the sharp lines of his shoulders as Midorima secured another goal— and Hana froze. He'd twisted just enough during that shot that she could see the stern line of his face, the thin press of his brows, and the twitch of his fingers.
A groan got caught in the back of her throat, catching Riko's attention. There goes my hopes for a peaceful game.
All of her former acquaintances at Teiko had their specific tells. They were a big group of clashing personalities, but they each had a flare to them that dictated their differences. Aomine was rash and full of hot rage. It burned when he was angry and simmered when he got riled up. Kise was a constant bubble of energy— until he focused and his mouth canted upwards in danger. Murasakibara was bored, but when he got in the zone, his eyes would narrow and a crease would build between his brows.
Out of all of them, Akashi and Midorima had been the hardest to pin down for one reason and one reason only. Their attitudes didn't change physically. For the two smartest boys on the team, their energy was a mental thing. It didn't show up in quick bursts of emotion or loud words.
Their excitement was quiet. Only noticed in the smallest change of focus, the quick flash of too sharp eyes. It wasn't something she caught initially, but after nearly a year and a half of close contact with all of the Generation of Miracles, Hana knew their tells. She knew what it meant when Akashi's face went blank.
And in Midorima's case, she knew what happened when his shoulders rolled back and his fingers twitched in their bindings.
"Well, shit," she echoed her thoughts just as the referee blew the whistle for game start, "That's not good."
While the team coalesced around the coach for the pre-tipoff huddle, Koganei caught her statement. Curious, brown eyes blinked at her as he settled in on Hana's left, pulling his jacket off, "What're you talking about, Imamura-chan?"
"Midorima," she motioned to the other side of the court, a sigh building in her lungs, "Just look at him."
Ever the observant one, Kuroko nodded along to her explanation, "It's his face. He looks different from the last time we saw them."
In front of her, Kagami peered over his shoulder. For just a second, he looked pensive, "I guess he does look weird."
"Nah, I've seen that look before," Hana countered. Perching her chin in her palms, she leaned forward to get a better look at Shotoku's side of the stadium, "Not recently, but a couple of times back in Teiko. Before they started being dicks."
"He's determined," Kiyoshi chimed in on the other side of Koganei. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he peered up at Kagami and warned, "We beat them last time, it's not something he's going to forget."
"Yeah, he's determined," Hana agreed then shook her head, "but Midorima is always determined to win. This is more than that— see! His fingers are twitching!"
The rest of her team turned to follow her finger as she jabbed it across the court. Nobody said anything but they didn't have to. Their doubt is ringing loud and clear. Down at the end of the bench, Furihata was the first to question her logic, "… is that a bad thing?"
"Yes!" Hana threw her arm out wide, unknowingly gaining attention from the team stationed at the other end of the court, "It means he's excited and that is a very bad thing."
Izuki blinked at her, confusion ripe on the upturn of his brows, "It's a bad thing that he's excited?"
She stared at him, "Izuki— do you know what it means when the Generation of Miracles are excited? It means bloodshed. It means pain. It means death."
There was a second of silence, letting Hana's warning hang awkwardly in the air as the rest of the team digested it. Well, most of them. Hyuuga just looked two seconds away from kicking her out of the gym, "You're basing all that off of him having shaky hands?"
"Yes!" Hana still didn't know what to do with her own hands, letting them hang awkwardly in the air as she explained, "He's a shooter, they don't get shaky hands. I'm telling you, he's going to be a bitch to beat this game."
As she finished explaining, green eyes trailed back to the other side of the court only for her heart to catch in her chest. Talk about a jump scare. For the first time that day, Midorima was staring at her. Not through her, like he tended to default to, but right smack dab in the eye. Beside him, Takao said something loud, but Midorima's focus never wavered. Green met green as his mouth tightened, the curve of his jaw jumping as he watched her.
For all she knew about him, Hana didn't have a clue in hell what that expression meant.
"Imamura's right," Kiyoshi stated as he crawled to his feet, effectively breaking her out of her impromptu staring contest, "This game is going to be different. Shotoku isn't here to lose."
"You all better listen to Teppei," Riko took a step forward, flipping to the second page on her clipboard as she stared down the team, "This isn't going to be easy, but I want you to try your hardest. Kagami, Kuroko, Izuki, Hyuuga, Teppei! You're up!
It was that encouraging statement that hung in the air as the game officially started.
As Shotoku and Seirin moved onto the court, Hana couldn't help herself. Her eyes stayed rooted to Midorima's figure, narrowing at the stiff hold of his back and the strange expression tinting his cheeks. Something's up with him. It wasn't normal, but what it was— Hana couldn't say.
"I hope you have a plan, coach," she muttered under her breath as the teams lined up on the half court line, "Because I've got jack shit."
A considering hum crept through Riko's mouth, her lips twitching in the beginnings of a confident smirk, "I have an idea. After our last game, I rewatched the footage and I noticed Midorima has a weakness. Each shot he takes, he spends more time preparing for the next one."
Makes sense. Hana nodded along as the whistle blew, "All those big throws wear out his shoulders."
"Exactly," Riko's twisted, looking down the line of teammates on the bench, "Which means all we have to do is wear him out."
Koganei suddenly grinned, throwing his fist into the air, "And we've got just the right player for that!"
It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was referring to. There was only one guy on the team with enough energy to keep up with the Generation of Miracles and it was a flaming idiot with red hair. Furihata and Fukuda cheered along with Koganei, excited at the light at the end of the tunnel. Their excitement was almost contagious, but something held her back.
It can't be that easy, can it?
xXxXx
Momoi ducked through the stadium doors, fifteen minutes late.
Wild pink strands of hair were tangled in the hood of her jacket and she used a cold hand to drag it away from her neck. While it was chilly enough to warrant the need for more layers, the rain had soaked the visible skin of her legs and arms, making the cold even more unbearable. The sound of excited chatter caught her attention— pink eyes dragging down to the court with an audible pout.
"Stupid, Dai-chan," the door smacked shut behind her, "Now I'm late and he didn't even come."
An excited intake of air cut her thoughts off, "Momoi-cchi?"
"Ki-chan? You're—" Momoi twisted to the right, mind going worryingly blank as she caught sight of a face she hadn't seen in nearly a year, "Muk-kun?"
Tired, purple eyes met her own as Murasakibara raised a lazy hand in greeting, "Sa-chin."
She'd heard from Aomine that he'd showed up, but she hadn't expected him to stay. It'd nearly taken an act of god to convince the taller boy to travel back to Tokyo, but Aomine'd pulled through. Momoi wasn't exactly what sure he'd threatened Murasakibara with, but whatever it was, it had to have been effective to force him to stay for the weekend.
Or maybe, her thoughts trailed off in concern, he has another reason to stay.
"I didn't know you were coming," Kise's pleased babble broke her out of her musing, pink eyes flicking toward the other teen as he let go of the dividing rail separating the stands and stepped closer, "It's good to see you again."
When we aren't rivals. The aftermath of their last game hung in the air, but he didn't mention it. Momoi swallowed, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Kise didn't budge. His patient smile never wavered, arms tucked lackadaisically in his pockets as he watched her.
Despite her surprise, Momoi smiled. Like she'd done so often in the past, her feet led her closer to the blonde, "You too! How's the game going?"
"Boring," Murasakibara answered before Kise could. His large hand cupped the bottom of his jaw as he yawned, "They're being weird."
Leaning against a retaining wall, Murasakibara looked away from her and down to the court. One purple eyebrow twitched as he watched— but the expression didn't grow any further than apathy. Momoi forced herself to swallow. It was hard to reconcile this new Murasakibara with the one she remembered from Teiko. Even though he'd never enjoyed physical activity, he never looked this dead inside.
She eventually blinked, startled eyes twisting to the court as his statement sank in, "Did something happen?"
Waving off her concerns and Murasakibara's sass, Kise shook his head, "I don't think so. The pace is just different— Midorima-cchi is really going at it. I haven't seen him this worked up in a while."
She peeked back down to the game at the reminder, catching sight of Midorima running down the court. Seirin wasn't far behind him— Kagami very nearly keeping pace as the game continued. Pink eyes flicked over the rest of the area, finally catching sight of the person she'd been looking for. Tetsuya! Her attention moved slightly to the right and caught a glimpse of Seirin's pouting manager.
"There's Ima-chan!" Momoi grinned, balancing on the tips of her toes to get a better look, "She's—" her mind stuttered to a halt, "She doesn't have her notes?"
That wasn't normal. For as long as Momoi could remember her interactions with the other manager, Hana always had something. Through the years, it'd ranged from her binder, to her phone, to a handful of files stapled together. Sometimes it was too large for her to hold and other times only a few scraps of paper. But she always, always had something.
Kise grimaced, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, "Ah, Aomine-cchi didn't tell you?"
"Aomine-kun didn't tell me what?" Momoi spun on her heel, narrowing her eyes on the suddenly sheepish blonde, "What happened?"
"Oh, boy," Kise took a step back, shooting a look to Murasakibara for help. The taller teen didn't budge, "He didn't tell you anything?"
"Ki-chan," she smiled, a tad too sharp, "Explain."
Despite her growing worry, Momoi was mildly satisfied by the way color crept out of Kise's face, "So you were right. Hana-cchi did something kind of dumb during Kirisaki Daiichi's game against Shotoku—"
Pink eyes narrowed, "Dumb? What do you mean by dumb?"
"She gave them some notes on their playing style," Kise winced, one eye peeking open as he watched Momoi's face flush red, "Apparently they caught on and there was a confrontation."
"She— I knew she'd do something stupid!" Fisting her hands on her hips, Momoi barked at Kise while she mentally planned her best friends murder, "Was everything okay?"
Kise hesitated a tad too long, "They stole her phone after threatening Kuroko-cchi—"
"Mura-chin kicked the ugly one and then broke her phone," Murasakibara added drily, the first input he offered to the conversation, "It was kind of funny."
"And then Midorima-cchi fussed at her— I thought she was going to combust. I've never seen her face get so red," Kise trailed off in consideration, "Except that one time when I—"
That didn't clarify anything at all. Momoi's face fell flat, staring at the two boys in disappointment, "That's it? You can't describe it any better?"
So far, the most she'd gotten out of this conversation was that Hana did something stupid, kicked a boy, and then broke her phone. It did nothing to clarify how they were all involved or why Midorima was upset enough to worry. Making a mental note to torture Aomine for details later, Momoi turned her attention back to the two boys.
"Well, it was all kind of a blur," Kise scratched at the back of his neck, trading a look with Murasakibara, "I got a little worked up."
Cupping her head in her hands, Momoi sighed. What do I do to deserve this? Her thoughts trailed off to Hana, another sigh escaping her lips at her semi-self-sabotaging tendencies, "Was everyone okay at least?"
Kise nodded, jerking back to attention like a hyperactive puppy, "Oh, yeah! Hana-cchi didn't get hurt and Kuroko-cchi was fine. She threatened to kill me then we got to go get dinner together. It was just like old times!"
Momoi deadpanned. I think we have two different recollections of old times, Ki-chan.
Despite the sudden burst of energy, Kise suddenly sighed, shoulders slumping just as quickly, "I wish I knew if she was okay without her phone though. I wanted to call her—"
Her attention flicked toward Kise, brows hiking at his forlorn expression, "You really like Ima-chan, don't you?"
The light from the gym caught Kise's eye, something that looked eerily like stars sparkling in his golden irises, "We—" he went to speak, but caught himself. Instead, a hand scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck as he blushed. She nearly squealed. "Something like that."
Momoi caught the way Murasakibara straightened from his slouch, finally expressing interest in their conversation, and smiled. Despite her worry at Hana's predicament, she couldn't help but find it a tad funny how quickly the giant teen had fallen into the same emotional dilemma as his former teammates. Another one bites the dust!
"She'll be fine," Momoi said instead of voicing her observation. Her thoughts flickered back to their interactions in the past, something confident making her admit, "I'm sure she's got something prepared."
Kise's mouth pinched, but whatever he intended to say was interrupted by a loud yawn. Arms stretching over his head, Murasakibara drawled, "Kise-chin," his meaty hand shoved Kise forward and toward the door, "Go get me food. I'm hungry."
Tension of the previous conversation forgotten, Kise slipped at the force of the larger teen's push. When he gained his foothold, the blonde gawked over his shoulder, "But we just ate!"
Murasakibara merely blinked, "I'm still hungry."
The declaration made Kise stumble further over his feet, an accusing finger jutting in the other teen's direction, "You can't seriously—"
"You're supposed to be nicer to me," Murasakibara droned, flicking his gaze down to Kise with a twitch of his brow, "You're a bad host."
"Guys—" Momoi sighed, "Remember, we're in public—"
"You slept in my bed," a precarious red flush built on Kise's neck and knowing the entire conversation was about to racket up in volume, Momoi took several quick steps away from the duo. Gold eyes narrowed even as Kise's mouth twitched into a strained smile, "I had to sleep on the floor—"
Murasakibara only yawned, sticking a finger in his ear, "You wouldn't fit."
Kise's mouth plopped open in offense. Without another glance backward, Momoi made the executive decision to ignore the bickering between the duo. Still, a fond smile tugged at her lips. Her boys may have changed since middle school, but deep down, they were still the same idiots. Bringing her finger to her mouth, she tugged at her lip as her attention locked back onto the game.
Despite the distraction, Kise's insulted squawk echoed, "You pushed me off!"
Momoi sighed.
xXxXx
Hana knew this game would be brutal.
She just hadn't realized how awful it would be until it started.
From the get-go, both teams were playing hard. There had been no build up, just spontaneous action from the second the tip off finished. Bunch of testosterone filled idiots. At first, it looked like Seirin had the lead— Kagami managing to jump high enough to block Midorima's shots. But then the play changed.
Midorima changed.
He began to fake, pulling his shots back so Kagami was forced to jump a second too early. As the seconds clicked down, Kagami grew slower. The momentum continued in the same manner throughout the first two her lip between her teeth, Hana watched as Shotoku slowly regained their standing.
"Takao's riding Tetsuya's ass—" she winced as Shotoku's point guard sunk past his defense, "He's not going to be able to keep up."
"The quarters almost over," Riko reminded her, but it did little to hide the worry creeping over the coach's shoulders, "We'll switch him out then."
Hana nodded, but it was a hesitant thing.
It was weird to watch without contributing. In the past, her thoughts had always been broken up with observation and introspection. She didn't have enough time to watch the game in the manner she was doing now. It was the only thing to focus on and as Takao blocked Kuroko a second time, the taste of iron crept into her mouth.
Hana honest to god didn't know what to do with herself.
She didn't know what to do about anything really. Not about Torio's bullshit, or Hanamiya, or Kuroko— shit, she didn't know anything. Her safety net was gone. When things went to hell, she'd always been prepared. She had the notes, the data, the knowledge to understand what might happen.
And now? Now, she only had herself and wasn't that just horrifying.
Hana wasn't given time to linger in her thoughts. Before she could start spiraling, the sound of dribbling yanked her back into the present. Shotoku was driving the ball down the court, Midorima in the lead— his hand outstretched to keep Izuki's grabbing at bay. Passing the three-point line, Midorima shook Izuki off and Kagami was left to take charge.
Hana's nails dug into the thin skin of her palm as she waited. They were too close to the goal.
Seirin was only ahead by a single point and if Midorima made this shot— they'd be fighting again for the lead.
Her coach didn't breathe, watching the play as her fingers tightened on the edge of her clipboard. Her stare was locked on the movement out on the court— holding out for the hope that Kagami would intercept Midorima's shot. Time clicked down into milliseconds as the two aces got closer, Midorima's glasses flashing as he twisted his head toward Kagami. It was just quick enough for Kiyoshi to join in, blocking his front.
Midorima left shoulder flexed under his Shotoku uniform and Hana knew.
"He's going to pass," she whispered, realization smacking into her chest like a lead bullet, "Riko— he's going to pass!"
Hazel eyes flung to her in surprise before Riko snapped to attention, "Izuki! Guard the center!"
It was too late.
Kagami's reached out and Midorima moved— lobbing the ball toward Takao on his right.
"Shit," Hana barely had enough time to curse before Takao was sprinting down the court, ducking between Kuroko and Izuki's defense to pass to Kimura. Kiyoshi wasn't quick enough to block, the ball swooshing through the net seconds later. "Damn it!"
Her breath caught in her throat, comprehension sinking in. He'd changed more than she realized. Midorima didn't do teamwork. Yet, sometime during the past month, he'd realized he couldn't do it on his own anymore. Hana didn't know how to feel about that revelation. He couldn't have waited until next year to suddenly turn into a team player?
"He actually passed," Furihata whispered under his breath as he watched the teams reset. Hana tried to ignore her coach's probing stare as Furihata continued, "He didn't do that last time—"
With another strange look at Hana, Riko explained as she concentrated back on the court, "It looks like they've changed since our game."
"How'd you know, Imamura-chan?" Fukuda leaned forward, brown eyes wide as gawked at her, "It was so fast!"
Hana didn't look at him, focus zeroed in on the game, "It's his shoulders," she explained, cataloging the way Hyuuga threw the ball in, "He's used to being the main shooter so he leads with his shoulders. Most players lead with their hips," she motioned toward Kagami as an example, watching the way he dodged past Kimura to pass to Kiyoshi, "Midorima's always been stiff— he's not good at pivoting like Aomine and Kagami."
It was half due to his stature and half due to his personality. Midorima just wasn't as flexible as the other players on his team— something she'd never say to his face. I'd rather live, thanks.
"Imamura-chan," Riko's demand was stiff in the sudden quiet on their side of the court, "You're on Midorima. He's your target."
Coach say what now? Hana couldn't stop her mouth from clicking open if she tried, "He's my— my target? Why the hell do I have a target?"
Her attention was locked on the court, something like concern growing in the furrow of Riko's brow, "You may not have your notes, but you know Midorima," keen eyes flicked toward the sitting manager, "I trust your judgement."
Her mouth snapped shut, dry comeback dying on her tongue. That was— that was a lot. Hana wasn't sure her little heart could take it. Sure, she knew her team tolerated her, but trust? In something this big? Hana didn't know if she deserved it. Not after how badly she'd screwed up with Kirisaki Daiichi and lost her only information. I can't— not a game this important.
Green eyes trailed up, meeting Riko's gaze head on, "I don't think—"
"You can do it," her coach smiled, a blinding white flash of teeth and crinkled lips, "I believe in you."
Hana had no words to combat that. Her heart was beating too fast for her to talk even if she wanted to.
Guess I've developed a praise kink all the sudden.
"Mitobe!" Riko broke her out of her thoughts as she called out to the silent boy beside her, "You're in!"
Before Hana had a chance to really blink, Kuroko was stepping off the court. Exhausted blue eyes met her own and for just a second, Hana froze. He was smiling. Despite everything that happened on the court, despite Midorima's newfound love for team bonding, Kuroko was smiling.
Her chest felt tight, a weird surge of determination making her sweat.
Damn it. I'm really going to do this, aren't I?
The sound of the whistle blowing had all their attention traveling back toward the court. Shotoku threw the ball in, Takao taking it down the court. He hesitated at the half line and as Hana watched, grey eyes flicked toward Midorima. The ball dribbled once, then twice, the stagnation growing as the teams spread out. There wasn't an exchange of words, but she could see it all the same.
The way Midorima's feet stalled, his left leg moving just the faintest hint to the right, his shoulder's rolling low—
"Riko, block Miyaji," Hana swallowed to ease the pressure growing in her throat, hands curling into fists in the safety of her lap. She tried to ignore the way they shook, "Midorima's watching him. He'll pass when he runs by."
xXxXxXx
Kise leaned over the railing, gold eyes narrowing on Seirin's bench.
"What is she doing?" He muttered, confused at the strange way Hana was interacting with her coach. One of her pale hands tapped Seirin's coach in the thigh, the older girl's attention flicking to her once before she called out for the point guard to move, "Is she—"
No, it wasn't possible. He had to be seeing things. Kise swallowed, taking a step back from the ledge, his certainty dying in his throat as the dark-haired point guard blocked Midorima's pass. It sent the ball flying straight toward Kagami's hands, the redhead twisting on his heel and sprinting down the court. Two of Shutoku's players leaped up to block the charge, but it was too late.
Another point to Seirin.
"She knows Midorin's moves," Momoi whispered behind him. Her thin hand clutched tight against the faded green fabric of her sweater, "That's amazing."
Murasakibara rustled behind her, the sound of wrappers crumbling as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. A long sigh snatched Kise out of his thoughts, "Mura-chin's going to be annoying."
Mouth pinching, Kise gave the taller boy a bewildered look over his shoulder, "I wouldn't say annoying. Hana-cchi is—"
"She's getting better," Momoi finished, taking another step ahead to balance her palms on the edge of the rail, "She's learning how to predict movements."
"Like you can?" Kise queried, head tilting as he peered at the rival manager.
"Not quite. Our talents have always been similar, but we concentrate on different things," she countered, eyebrows furrowing as she watched Seirin play, "I can do it because I know the team's strategy well enough to realize their next movements. Ima-chan can do the same to an extent, but she always focused more on their personalities instead of their skill."
Too many times it'd been a point of entertainment during their recognizance back at Teiko. Where Momoi would concentrate on tracking the plays the team defaulted to, mapping out their defensive and offensive strategies, Hana would chime in about how a certain player was too hot headed. How they reacted under pressure. How they had a bad habit of thinking too much.
Momoi hadn't put much stock into it then, but she'd noticed.
She hadn't been the only one.
"It's why Akashi-kun wanted us to work together," she trailed off, half-stuck in her whirling thoughts, "He told me once when he brought her closer to the team. His goal was for my strategic knowledge and Ima-chan's personal observations to complement each other and make a full intelligence profile for each team."
"So, if you can predict their movements through familiarity with their strategy," Kise pondered, gold eyes flicking back toward the court just in time to see Midorima shoot, "How is Hana-cchi doing it without her notes?"
"She's doing it blind," Momoi explained, canting a look toward the boy beside her, "It makes sense. Her information is good, but her talent at Teiko was manipulation. It doesn't have much use on the court, but it's all about body language."
"That means she's reading Midorima-cchi as he plays," Kise muttered under his breath. His chest grew tight at the implications of the possibility, "That's—"
"It's concerning," Momoi finished where he left off, fingers fiddling with the zipper of her hoodie, "Right now she's focusing on Midorin because she knows him best, but if she learned how to prefect it, we'll all be in trouble."
Kise mouth popped open as he balked, "Wait— are you saying—"
"We're going to have to assume she'll be able to do the same thing with all of us. Think about it, Ki-chan," with a contemplating noise, Momoi motioned briefly to the court, "She's been watching us for years and most of us are friends. I'm not surprised she's picked up on a few things."
Seirin and Shotoku faced off again in front of Seirin's net and Momoi traced the ball as it rolled off court. It led her attention back to Seirin's bench. Hana had crawled to her feet sometime during the game, dark hair obscuring her face as she spoke into their coach's ear. Before Momoi had time to focus back on the game, she caught the flash of keen green eyes sweeping over the court, a sharp smile cutting Hana's cheeks as she twisted to say something to Kuroko.
In the span of several seconds, Momoi realized something as she stared at the familiar expression.
Ima-chan's going to be dangerous.
"It's not quick enough to be effective," Momoi trailed off, a smidge of worry nestling in her chest as she watched, "But if she practices getting faster at picking out their tells, it's going to be really hard to get past her and Seirin's coach."
"It's going to be annoying," Murasakibara repeated. Lilac eyes were narrowed on the court, languidly tracing the way Midorima and Kagami faced off, "I don't want to deal with her and Kuro-chin."
Kise blinked, surprised at the admission, "You think they're going to win, Murasakibara-cchi?"
Casting a glance past Kise, Momoi eyed the teenager in question. Large hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he slouched, somehow keeping pace with their conversation despite his lethargy. But it was his eyes that got her attention. Those lazy, lilac eyes were focused on the court with an intensity Momoi hadn't seen in years. It was a strange combination of apathy and genuine interest— like how a child might regard an ant before crushing it beneath their foot.
"I don't care who wins," he countered, but the sharp furrow of his crinkled brow gave him away, "It's just basketball."
Twisting her head back over her shoulder, Momoi caught Kise's eye through the veil of her pink hair. Murasakibara said he wasn't worried— they both turned their attention to the boy in question. But, while he might not realize it, he was considering the possibility that Seirin might present a challenge. Momoi licked her lips, trying and failing to hide her smile at the giant boy's budding irritation.
It might not be pleasant for Seirin, but it was nice to see Murasakibara getting interested again in the sport he once enjoyed.
xXxXxXx
He seriously disliked Kagami.
It wasn't anything personal, Takao didn't know him well enough for that, but the stamina the freshman had was insane. Almost on the verge of unnatural. Spreading his hands wide, Takao glanced at the sweating redhead behind him— lip curling up as he tried to dodge right. Ahead of them, Hyuuga dribbled on the line, dark eyes narrowed behind the sheen of his glasses.
What is with this momentum? Kagami feinted and Takao followed—
The whistle for the start of half time cut his movement off.
He took a chance to glance at the scoreboard, frowning at what he saw.
45 – 43. Seirin's in the lead.
With a long groan, Takao scrubbed his hands through his hair, vaguely watching as both teams moved off the court. Seirin exchanged a few conciliatory back pats, nearly knocking Kagami off his feet as he side-stepped Kiyoshi. Pushing the sweaty hair out of his face, Takao's eyes narrowed as he watched them move off the court and to the sidelines.
It didn't take long for their manager to hop off, accusing finger jabbing Kagami straight in the chest. Takao huffed out a short, irritated breath.
Her little scheme hadn't escaped his notice. It'd be hard to miss anyway with how characteristically loud Seirin's side of the court had been during the last quarter. He'd even managed to hear a few of her warnings himself when the ball crept too close to the boundary and he'd swoped in to save it. He got lucky that it just happened to coincide with her giving her coach another heads up.
A heads up that proved frustratingly effective when Mitobe managed to shield Midorima from advancing down the court.
"Shin-chan—" Takao panted, hands moving to his hips as he watched Seirin recoup across the court, "I know you think Imamura-chan's cute, but she's being really annoying today."
For once, Midorima didn't bust his gut at the backhanded jab. Still lingering under the net by their side of the court, Midorima followed his focus, a thin line pulling down his brows, "I agree."
"She's got her eye on you. More than ever," Takao huffed, pulling up the bottom of his jersey to wipe at the last strands of sweat on his brow, "I thought she'd be out of the count today."
He'd known the game was going to be tough enough with Kagami and Kuroko. Their newly reinstated center, Kiyoshi, also promised a difficult game, but Takao hadn't been counting on more. Seirin's coach was directing their game with a startling efficiency— obviously aided by the manager's own input. Since when could she do that?
"She should have been," Midorima concurred. His fingers twitched on his forearms from where he'd crossed them over his chest, "Something's changed."
Twisting on his heel, Takao scoffed as he strode past Midorima, "I should have known she'd be keeping secrets. That's a dirty trick—"
His statement skittered to a halt as he turned to peer at his teammate.
Face locked on Seirin's side of the court, Midorima watched them as they moved toward the locker rooms. His fingers twitched again, the pointer finger going as far as to tap against his arm— counting down to a beat Takao couldn't hear. But it wasn't his stance that captured his attention. It was his face.
Midorima was smiling.
xXx
Heterochromatic eyes narrowed, red and orange gleaming in the shadowed alcove of the upper stadium seats.
These new developments were concerning, to say the least.
It was time to intervene.
Review time!
(because ya girl hasn't done this in a while and I miss you!)
meldemort: welcome back, friend! I missed you! Thank you for the love and thank you for sticking with me. I'm not planning on giving this bad boy up yet! I'll keep updating until the story is done (I swear, you're welcome to hunt me down if I fail)
nikioamaya: thanks friend! I'm glad you liked it!
addicted-to-gazette: THE ASS HAS BEEN KICKED, BUT WILL THE ASS RETURN? (yes) Thank for checking in friend! My daddy issues also like Aomine, but I'm also an indicisive little hoe so I can't choose. Interesting that Murasakibara is your second pick though! I don't get that one often. Also, your redhaired man has returned for a little sneaky peek. wink, wink.
michikolyvie: Thank you! I love you just as much as you love this story!
MoonlightFlower54: ya girl is something, that's for sure. I'm so glad you like her though, even if I've been putting her through the wringer these last few chapters... THANKS AGAIN FRIEND!
alittledirtyfangirl: THE PROTECTIVENESS! I GIFT! THANK U FOR GIFTING UR REVIEW! I LOVE YOU!
MemmyLu: Thank you friend! I appreciate the well wishes and for sticking with me through all these sporadic updates. You have my heart and my love and my everything! Thank you again!
NinjaPenguinLover: Thank you! I love hearing that this whole mess of a fanfic is worth the reread. It makes all of it worth it to know people enjoy it enough to sit through it again and again and again. Thank you so much!
xxjaelee: I screamed at your review! We all scream! Thank you for making my day! It might not have been grand, but Akashi is making moves... what moves are they? We don't know, but they're there! Thank you and I love you so much! I really appreciate you sticking with me and all your comments! They make my life!
OneWhoReadsTooMuch: Always fun to reunite over a sole idiot. Makes the bonding so much easier (jk, they've still got a long way to go). Pepperspray would be fun though! Maybe during a little trip to America... wink, wink. THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEW! It's so great hearing from you again!
the.apple.seed: your review makes me want to hug you. it was so sweet and just what I needed to hear. thank you friend, I love you!
wolf girl123098: No, thank you for the wonderful review! I'm glad my story manages to get your heart pumping in excitement! I love hearing that kind of reaction because sometimes I forget that it's not just words, but a full on story that people actually enjoy. (which is so crazy to me, oh my gosh) Anyway, thank you!
Gemilang23: I am back! I am still slow! But I am back! Thanks for reviewing, friend!
armydancer01: He totally deserved it. He deserves more, but it shall wait. Gotta lead up to the action so you guys don't get bored (except, maybe it's the other way around. oops haha) Thanks for your review friend!
And to all the lovely Guests who commented, thank you for taking the time out of your day to leave me such sweet words!
