Old A/N: I don't know much about basketball (in fact, most of my knowledge of it derives from KnB sigh), but I've tried my best to write this fanfic nonetheless. I am a pioneer. A brave pioneer with a soul that will *bleep* and *haha*

New A/N: Dear past self - same. But fear not, for I still have hope in reviving this fanfic and not disappointing the fans of this fic and myself for being a not-beach bum. Lol. Let's have at it.


0.5 : Teikou Junior High : Tip Off Unseen!

I didn't like Japan.

I was used to America.

I had great friends there, and not a bad home or living, or a bad school, you know?

And now, I had to start a new life at a new school, in a different country, with unfamiliar faces and no friends, sob.

Perhaps the only good thing about moving back to Japan was that I could freely speak Japanese without getting foreigner looks. But what was the good thing in that, when I could be playing in the court, eating ice cream after with my "brothers" and Alex-san? I couldn't call Kagami or Himuro because I didn't have the cross-country calling ability on my outdated phone. And my parents only bought a phone for me to have for safety purposes.

Sometimes, I regretted meeting them and getting to know them. I had to suffer for it. I couldn't even email them. Well, I did, but Himuro was always busy and replied weeks later, and Kagami never replied back.

I wouldn't feel bad going back to Japan if I didn't meet them. I'd be actually happy, feeling free from the English and the Americans picking on my silvery white hair and name. Plus, Kagami wouldn't be so mad at me if I didn't meet them. But I met them— and I became best friends with them, sharing good times, doing childhood and whatnot... only to stab them in the back and leave some years later.

It felt terrible each day I lived in Japan from then on. The kids saw me as a quiet, shy, yet reserved person, and most of them pretty much avoided me at my school. Teikou didn't seem interesting at all to me.

Any and every small conversation I'd get revolved around either English homework, my hair, or my name. They'd ask me the stupidest things about them, and nothing that could act like friendship stepping stones. It felt pathetic that I had no friends.

"Yukishiro, ha. You'd think that she'd have a more appropriate and prettier name like Shirayuki."

"Or Yukishira."

"Guys, that's her family name. Can't change that... but Mitsu though..."

"Right? Doesn't suit her at all."

"Maybe they thought she'd be a leader when she grew up. Guess they thought wrong."

"She's so shy, I can't get to her! God, seriously!"

Eventually, some students got in trouble for picking on the new girl, which was me. Frankly, I didn't mind them picking on me. I was no pushover, but it became worse after the teachers intervened. It felt like I was put more on the spot, and it was very uncomfortable being forced into the spotlight.

One day, a girl decided that I was worth the conversation, and roped me with three other girls talking about— what do you know?— basketball.

"Our basketball club is the number one!" one girl squealed. "And the boys there are smoking hot too."

"Aren't they though?" second girl agreed. I think she was hyperventilating. "And their names all are so appropriate!"

"What?" I quietly uttered. No one heard me of course.

"Right?" The girl who roped me in breathed in awe. "Akashi Seijurou, Midorima Shinatou, Aomine Daiki, Murasakibara Atsushi, and— you know."

She nudged her friends, who all looked like they were having a series of spasms, seizures, and heart attacks. Eh. I wasn't sure if I could handle any more of these die-hard romantics.

Also... were their names colors? Like... mine? Did that mean that their hair was—

"You know who we're talking about, right Yukishiro-san?" one of the girls asked me. I blinked and didn't even give it a second thought.

"Um. No?"

All four of those girls gasped loudly, attracting attention. I was suddenly being pinned again, and the four girls backed away from me like I was disgusting to be around. It's pitiful, I know, and maybe I should've just lied to them to appease them, but maybe this was a good thing. I could leave sooner.

Except they just had to gush about Kise Ryouta to me. They made sure that I would never, ever forget about him.


Later that day, I looked up about Teikou in the computer room. Yeah, I know, my own school.

They were known well for their basketball team, and how invincible they were. Words "unbeatable," "miracle," and all sorts of competitions came up, and how they won every single game this year. So they're that good? I wondered, my brow twitching in thought.

Being Yukishiro Mitsu, basketball semi-enthusiast (I had a love-hate relationship with it) and shy but curious cat, I had to see them.

I tried finding my way to the gym, and got lost in the large school. It was very different from the American schools I got used to. There were chalkboards and such to keep things traditional, but I couldn't help but feel like they could modernize a few things. Whiteboards were way more helpful, and easier to clean. Chalk was dusty and would go everywhere, and I had a habit of sneezing excessively every time it was my turn to clean the classroom after school.

With my irked thoughts, of course I bumped into someone.

I knew the person was tall from the height difference, so I assumed that he was a player. I was lucky to be correct, since I couldn't afford to be more exhausted from embarrassment and squealing girls today. "Oh God, I'm so sorry," I managed, hand on mouth.

He laughed on the spot, a bit more than what was expected. "You're so sweet! You're fine!" he exclaimed, leaning down to pat my head like I was some puppy to him. When he looked into my eyes, he blinked. I blinked.

His eyes and hair were a beautiful golden yellow hue. He can't be, I thought, immediately flustered.

"What a rare white-haired young lady," he complimented with a warm smile.

He didn't say anything more about my hair, which was very relieving, or else I'd be stuck in this stupid hall for the rest of the day.

"But you look lost. Need any help?"

I cleared my thoughts with a shake of my head. Since he asked, I might as well take advantage, even though my words weren't as graceful as my thoughts. "Do you, um, know where the gym is? I'd like to visit the basketball team for er, something."

He stood up straight, laughed again, and placed a large hand on his hip like a posing model. "You're going the opposite way then," he told me, his cat-like eyes gleaming.

"Ah!" I stupidly squeaked. I covered my mouth. "Are you serious? Oh, and sorry for that random sound, I don't know where that came from..."

"Why are you apologizing again? Did you do me any harm?" he chuckled. Then he leaned forward again, "This is the part where you say no."

"Oh." Curse me! "No?"

"Something the matter, miss?"

I looked at him with wide, grey eyes. "Are you— or rather, do you happen to be... what was the name... Kise Ryou—"

"That's me!" he interrupted with a wide grin, as if proud and flattered simultaneously. He was kind of getting on my nerves all of a sudden. I just wanted to visit the basketball club.

"Okay, Kise-san. Since you're part of the club as I've been, um, told... can you show me where it is?"

"Alright, but aren't you a student here? Shouldn't you already know this stuff?"

I was new, first off, and secondly, I easily got lost in any place I found myself in. Old habits died hard. But all I could bring myself to say was, "Well, I-I don't."

Apparently, he thought that was cute.

Kise proceeded to tell me that he was going to use me as an excuse for being late to practice. I laughed nervously and sucked a breath. Maybe his handsome vibes were getting to me, because I was acting off around him the whole time. Thankfully, he wouldn't know that, since he just met me.

He started to make small talk with me, such as who I reminded him of. It was this underrated player in his team who was small, maybe three or so inches taller than me, who was a great asset to the team. I tried to picture him, but I only imagined a black blob dubbed "Kurokocchi." It made me wonder if his hair was black, but that'd be just like most other people.

... How could green, or purple, or even blond (I mean, Kise was full Japanese, right?) be natural colors?

Haha. I forgot about myself. Never mind.

He then asked about myself. I decided to give in a little, telling him that I liked basketball in the past, back when I lived in America. He was amazed that I was an exchange student, and asked me a bit about my experiences. I told him that it was difficult, but not impossible to learn the language and fit in, and I met some Japanese friends there anyways. I also let him know that we were trained by a retired WNBA player. Kise's eyes just sparkled in astonishment.

I never knew that someone could be so interested in what I had to say, since I was friends with Kagami and Himuro. It made me wistful.

I guess he noticed, since he patted my head again. If we knew each other more after this, I hoped that this wouldn't be a habit of his.

(Sadly, I was wrong.)

Just when I thought he purposely made us go in circles around the school, he pronounced that "we were at our destination." It made me laugh out of the blue, startling both him and myself, but we just smiled it off.

Inside the gym, I heard the familiar sounds that I was not ready to take in. The basketball shorts and tees, the pungent smell that I was used to, and the balls dribbling, passing, and shot around. It was mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time.

"Gosh— um," I stammered, "maybe, just maybe... I should not have come—"

"What nonsense did I just hear?" Kise dramatically gasped, model hands on his model hips. It was getting increasingly difficult not to acknowledge his aesthetic figure.

Then, the room abruptly went silent. Perhaps it was the first time a girl like me came into the room during practice, or I wasn't allowed to visit during practice. I couldn't help but hide behind the closest thing around me, which happened to be Kise himself.

"Come on," he nudged, wearing an easygoing smile on his face. I was not encouraged enough. "Don't tell me I brought you all the way here to be like that! Come watch us and tell me what you think!"

"Huh?" I let out, my face blank, as I was dragged further inside by Mr. Pretty Boy. My heart was tangled with my lungs, my ears throbbing, as I felt like a hot mess. Eventually, the silent players reluctantly resumed, though it was clear that they had questions regarding my presence.

I looked around, and the first person who caught my eye was #4.

Aka, I thought, my eyes pinned to his red hair. Akashi Seijurou?

The captain had distinct red hair with long bangs that draped his forehead, and attentive, bloodshot eyes that could see through my soul. His eyes caught mine, giving me a disapproving glance. I was in such a frozen state, feeling like a deer in the headlights, that I couldn't look away.

Kise shook my arm, alerting me back to my senses, and gently sat me down on a bench where regulars would sit on. "You can watch really closely here," he told me with a wink. Then, he jogged to his captain, while I inwardly winced. Even I couldn't deny that he was beautiful, as much as I wanted to!

I glanced around, looking for any mops of hair with unusual color. I caught neat green hair and square-framed glasses on a certain boy, as I took my time to study him. He was wearing an armband, telling one of the people that it was his 'lucky item' of the day.

Midori, I thought. Midorima Shintarou.

It wasn't long before I saw this really, really tall purple-haired boy, who looked like the lazy type. Bless his height. Though, couldn't he even bother to cut his hair, since that's rather bothersome in the court? Or maybe he didn't care about his looks at all? He looked like the type—

As fate would have it, he stopped playing, and sat on the benchers where I was, right beside me. He reeked of sweat, but it didn't disgust me entirely. I grew up familiar with this smell.

His lazy eye looked down at me, as I tentatively looked up. I noticed our massive height difference, and it was like he was twice the size of me. He probably was.

Oh, and I also heard someone talking to another person saying how strange we were on the bench. I instantly reddened, while the purple-haired giant ignored them and commented, "You're tiny."

I nervously laughed, trying to ignore some stares. "Yeah. I know. Um, well— by the way— if you wanted to know! My name is Yukishiro Mitsu!"

Was it obvious that I was freaking out a little? He was the only one whose name I couldn't remember. It was long. That was the only thing I remembered from those basketball fangirls.

"Murasakibara Atsushi," he said to me. I breathed in, my internal freak-fest rejoicing.

"Thank you—" I slapped a hand to my mouth. Did I just say that?

He stared at me for what felt like ages, and then shrugged. "You're welcome."

I stifled a laugh, inwardly thankful for his passiveness. And this time, I really tried to keep it inside. "T-That was weird. I'm awkward. Let's forget that happened," I sputtered.

"Sure," was all he said.

"Hello then, Mura— Murasaki— huh?"

"Is it that hard to say?" he drawled, though he wasn't that interested if I answered. "I don't really care what you call me."

I said, "How about Murasaki-kun?" I laughed again at this. "Ah, that sounds girly, doesn't it?"

He just shrugged. He probably didn't care, but little did I know that that nickname would stick.

"Your hair is weird," he said suddenly, glancing over me. I followed his gaze and found new water bottles beside me, and the first thing I did from there was to hand him one. He probably was silently asking, as he chugged it down in a few gulps.

That wasn't the first time I had comments about my hair. Despite that, I self-consciously raked a pale hand through my white bangs. "Your hair is... also weird," my voice found itself saying.

"But it's pretty. Like vanilla ice cream."

For some reason, that made me feel fuzzy inside, like I won something. Maybe I made a friend? Was Kise my friend too, then?

"Thank you," I couldn't help but say, genuinely grateful. "Though purple is a pretty color too! Like, um, grape soda!"

Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw the corner of his lips twitch up at this. For some strange reason unbeknownst to me, this natural conversation was the most comforting thing about my day.

Murasakibara was called back onto the court, and I was left alone on the benchers. Sighing, I continued to look around. There was a boy with dark blue hair who pummeled his opponents, and it was funny how I didn't notice him first. With his aggressiveness, his tan skin, and his clear enthusiasm, he'd probably be the main attraction.

He glanced at me, and our eyes met. He gave me a careless grin, and resumed playing.

Ao, I thought. Aomine Daiki.

My eyes wandered back to Midorima, who uncannily shot from the other side of the court. I blinked, grey eyes widening, as if my eyes were both blessed and cursed to witness that moment. "What just— what even!?" I squeaked, my voice octaves higher.

"This is my team, Yukishiro Mitsu."

My head whipped to the voice's source, and there stood the feared Akashi Seijurou. He didn't bother to look at me, watching the court. "We are a proud team. We're prodigies, and I trained them to perfection."

"Perfection?" I repeated, looking at Kise. He perfectly copied Aomine's street-style play, just for fun. "Are you sure?"

The redhead twitched a small scowl. "You don't believe what I just said?"

"I mean, you— didn't you say perfection? You can't be perfect..."

"You've just witnessed perfection. You are seeing wonders and impossibilities before your eyes, and yet you don't accept to admit their impeccability?" he asked me. He was sincerely puzzled by my response. Maybe he never heard anything like it before, to which I should've given him a hearty laugh at.

"Well... I think there's no one in this universe that's perfect, even though they may seem like it. Everyone has a weakness, and basketball isn't counted out. That's what I believe. There's always room for improvements," I explained, surprised at my clear voice and hoping not to jinx it. "Even though your team leaves me speechless, I think one day, you'll understand that there are people who could beat your team."

"I highly doubt that. We have never been beaten, Yukishiro."

I shrugged. "I— I still don't think your team is purely perfect on all sides. Maybe your stamina isn't as good, because their abilities use up some energy? Maybe your special moves are limited? Maybe your secrets to your trump cards will be revealed soon?"

Akashi finally looked at me, with interest shining in his red eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

"Akashi-kun. Right?" With no response, I proceeded with, "Was what I said w-wrong?"

He averted his eyes, but I caught an unbelievable glimpse of amusement in it. "Your perspective merely defies everyone else's."

Was that his way of saying yes?

Kise jogged over to me seconds later. "Yukishiro-chan! What'd you think of our practice?"

I stood up, and smiled meekly. "It was nothing like I've ever seen, Kise-kun," I assured him.

"Haha!" He gave me thumbs up, and offered, "Do you want to play? Our practice is over now."

Akashi then really suddenly put his attention on me. The hairs on my body stood on end, I felt zapped and on the spot, and it was especially uncomfortable. We're talking about Akashi Seijurou's emperor eyes staring into my very being. There must've been something beyond my soul that he was looking into at this very moment.

"Oh, well— t-that's okay!" I managed to Kise, my hands quivering now. "Maybe next time—"

"I'd like to see your play, Yukishiro," Akashi said. He sounded like he was simply interested, but the undertones swelled like a demand. There was no doubt, he could rule this basketball court like a king, using the other players and I like puppets. Our sole purpose was to entertain him.

Defeated more easily than what I would've liked, I squeaked an, "Okay."

Kise passed me a ball, and I caught it with slight difficulty. He threw it with power I should've expected.

The ball, though— it felt like I should've played it first thing when I came here in Japan. I didn't though, because of how terrible I felt when I looked at it. Yet, it was in my hands, a little sweaty from the use, but I still felt over the black in the rough orange like the first time.

With my feet moving on its own, I stepped onto the court. Many eyes were on me, especially the Generation of Miracles. Exhaling a shaky breath, I habitually twisted my right ankle and threw with my left hand backing up the ball for some forward strength. It went in. I threw a two-pointer, and it went in without a hitch!

"Whoa, amazing Yukishiro-chan!" Kise said in glee. Murasakibara raised his brows, and Aomine smirked. Midorima gave me a strange expression I couldn't put to words. Did none of them ever witness a girl do this, or was it because I specifically did it?

I was told I looked frail and delicate, even sickly.

"It wasn't that good! It was just a two-pointer, nothing special," I laughed skittishly, as I moved to get the ball. My grip on it whitened my fingers.

"But your position was really weird," Kise started to explain. "It looked so strange! Do Americans play like that?"

My mouth parted, and a hand habitually shot up to run through my waves. "N-No. I had a habit of twisting my left ankle, but I'm left-handed, so my friend Tai-kun helped me grow this habit of twisting my right ankle. It'll even out for me to shoot straighter and with more control."

"You're left-handed?" he exclaimed, then paused to think. "Midorimacchi, aren't you left-handed?"

"I appreciate your acknowledgement," Midorima said sarcastically, bandaging his left hand as he spoke. He proceeded to file his nails, and it was hard not to laugh at that. He cared so much about his hands... it was admirable.

"Hey! Yukisomething, was it?" I looked to my right at the voice, and it belonged to the tan-skinned, blue-haired ace. "Shoot a three-pointer," he ordered.

I may as well have been wrong about the puppet thing. At the moment, I was the only puppet on the stage, with everyone around me having a turn to play with me.

Was I this stupid to play along with their sick games?

Apparently so. But! This was mostly because the adrenaline from scoring coursed through my veins and refused to just leave after that long-ago exhilaration.

Before I knew it, I stepped back a bit, positioned myself, and shot again. It barely went in, to my surprise, as, well— it actually went in. For someone so small and rusty to be able to do that in one try, I told myself that it had to be a fluke.

Kise didn't know that, though. No one did. The blonde praised me again, to which I fell bashfully modest.

"Shoot from the back of the court," Midorima promptly ordered, without warning. I flinched, and Kise wasn't prepared to shut up.

"What the hell, Midorimacchi!" he shouted, sounding whiny. "Why'd you ask her to do something as ridiculous as that?"

"I just want to know how far her capabilities take her," he said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms. "If she can do something as uncanny as that, then we've just witnessed a female basketball prodigy."

I shook my head rapidly, "No— no! I'm not— I never said— I'm no prodigy!"

Hearing my voice come out louder than expected, I covered my whole burning face with both hands. Peeking through the cracks, I saw Midorima's startled expression, as if he didn't expect that response at all. He probably never realized that girls were not to be messed with; girls like me tended to be far more sensitive than boys.

"Let's not push her into things like that," Kise dismissed, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "Also, apologize to Yukishirocchi!"

He twitched his eye. "Pardon?"

I widened my eyes at the nickname (did I deserve that?), my hands leaving my face, "Kise-san, I'm fine, really—"

"Apologize to her, Midorimacchi."

"What harm have I caused her?"

"Stop being stubborn!"

"Stop being insistent."

"Enough you two." Akashi's voice sliced through the tense air, and the two fell silent. He then faced me from ten feet away. "Yukishiro, if I may call you Mitsu, since I'll be seeing you more often—"

"Wait, what—"

"— it isn't fair to do the impossible, so let's take it down a notch. Play with Ryouta."

"Who—" My voice cut off. Kise grinned like he won a prize.

"And Daiki, and Tetsuya."

Kise-san, Aomine-san, and... My brows furrowed. Who's Tetsuya? Wait, am I actually going along with this? Is this normal for them to do things like this?

"Me and Tetsu?" Aomine scoffed, his face scrunching. "Is it a two-on-two?"

"That's correct," said Akashi.

"Why?" Aomine and I asked at the same time. We looked at each other, and he shrugged.

"Jinx," he said. Curse me.

Kise asked if I needed to warm up first, and I did some simple stretches and some in-place jogging for a few minutes, while everyone but the Generation of Miracles started packing up to leave. Just what kind of situation was this? This whole... thing felt very bizarre.

As I stopped to breathe in deeply, I felt a ghostly presence brush past me. My nerves spiked at this, when I heard Kise say, "Kurokocchi! Be my partner!"

"Seriously? So I get the girl?" Aomine sighed.

Wait.

Kurokocchi is Tetsu... ya?

"Do I have to stay here?" Murasakibara asked, his eyes on me for a minute.

"I must ask this as well," Midorima said coldly, zipping his bag. "I have a test to study for."

"You two will serve as witnesses to someone you'll see more often now," Akashi simply responded, his eyes burning. I shivered at this.

Why me? Why not the next white-haired basketball girl?

"The basketball which Mitsu plays," said Akashi, and that was all he said of that. He never finished the sentence. It was probably on purpose.

"Hello," said someone, his hand out in front of me. I looked up, my eyes adjusting rapidly to notice more and more features of a boy I did not see before. His hair was a light blue, his eyes were gentle and wide, and he looked at me with such an inexpressive expression that I was a bit jolted.

"Hello, Kuro-kun— ah, your name isn't that." I let out a shaky breath. "It's Kuroko, isn't it?"

He simply nodded. My head really wasn't in the game at all, but my body refused to shake off the adrenaline. My heart really did want this, not only to play basketball again, but with friends. I wanted and needed a place to belong here, or else I'd spend my junior high days in absolute misery. I'd be invisible the whole time, picked on, and I wouldn't have been able to endure it for much longer.

Thank you, Kise-san, for being kind enough to show me here. Murasaki-kun, for being comfortable enough to talk to. And the rest of you guys, for making me feel like I'm going to be okay.

This is going to last all of middle school... right? This joy?

"Hey, Shiroka," Aomine called, waving his tan hand over my vision. Snapping out of my stupor, I sucked in a breath. I was just going to ignore all of the weird nicknames I was getting.

"I thought there were only—" I counted briefly with my pale fingers, "— five people in the kiseki no sedai?"

"Oh yeah, about that," Kise started, slinging an arm around Kuroko, "Kurokocchi's the 'Phantom Sixth Man'!"

I blinked. "Phantom what?"

"You'll see when you finally decide to play," said Aomine, grinning excitedly. He took my arm with a roughness he wasn't aware off, but I was once used to being dragged around by Kagami. In fact, in some ways, Aomine reminded me of him.

I miss Tai-kun...

My mind wasn't focused, but my body moved accordingly. Partnering with Aomine was like working with Kagami. They both kicked powerful offense, and not practicing that since I came to Japan, I struggled with the adjustment again. It was clear that all three of the boys weren't playing too rowdy, since I'm playing too.

At first, Aomine's passes were fast and clear, packed with power that my wrists could barely handle. My fingers were red from receiving his passes, but it wasn't like I often gotten them. I really was out-of-shape. That, and Aomine was obviously convinced that he could beat this whole game without me. The pattern he played in was entirely street, and I was familiar with it, but his level was completely out there, entirely different. His passes were irregular, and he had his own unreadable rhythm.

Later on, I noticed something very off. His passes were somehow redirected, as if the air bent to pass the ball to Kise. My eyes dilated, attempting to fathom what was happening, when I saw it.

A blue light, a beam, and I felt so stupid from not noticing it before.

Kuroko's lack of presence gave him an advantage that blew me away. Once I noticed, it was difficult to defend from there initially. It was fast each time, something my brain couldn't slow down to expect. When the ball reached me, and I was ready to dribble it over to where I needed to be, it was slapped out of my hands.

The sounds blurred in my ears. They were distant, and time slowed for a moment. Perhaps I looked completely stupid standing there, or I was really taking the world in with insane concentration. But I noticed him, noticed the ball, and ran.

My breath was short, my heart went haywire in my poor body, but I had enough determination for this.

Seeing the pass, I ran and slapped it to the ground before it could reach Kise for another point. It hurt my hand, bounced straight up and down, and I nearly fell to my knees at the impact. Panting, I could hear muffled sounds of the game ending.

"Wait," I breathed, slowly standing up. "Kuro-kun..."

I could feel him. He was right beside me, his warm hand on my sweaty shoulder.

"Phantom... I can't." I looked at him straight in the eye. "You do misdirection?"

He nodded, handing me a water bottle. Kise laughed, and Aomine grinned wolfishly.

"You've played for only twenty minutes," Aomine moved on, brushing a hand over my bangs and wiping it on his jersey. That was crazy. My heart pounded in my ears, a memory resurfacing.

"Gross! Look at how much you're sweating, haha!" Kagami had roared, smacking my forehead and wiping it on his shirt.

"But still," Kise said, "that was... Yukishirocchi! How fast did you see him?"

I thought for a second, "I lost track of time, so I wouldn't—"

"Eleven minutes," said Akashi, walking to where I stood. "Mitsu. The average time a person notices Tetsuya is forty-five minutes. Tell me how you noticed him in eleven."

Kise's eyes bulged out, expression in utter shock. "Say what!?"

I was equally as shocked. How should I know how I did that?

"It was likely her concentration," Midorima supplied, pushing up his glasses. Random fact that I really shouldn't be mentioning now, but I had a crazy attraction to boys in glasses, but extreme un-attraction to green hair. I suppose it neutralized?

Still, I just noticed this now as he walked towards us too, but his lower lashes. They were dark and the most beautiful things I've ever, ever seen. I was paralyzed for a minute there. It made me seriously wonder in all-caps:

WHY ARE THESE BOYS SO ODDLY ATTRACTIVE FOR BASKETBALL PLAYERSand am I going to be okay!?

The rest of the conversation was surreal. I don't have much to say about it, really; the rest could be imagined. The thing I knew for sure from this, however, was that this wasn't the end of them.

The next day, during lunch, Murasakibara found me eating on a bench outside and joined me. The day after, Kise picked me up after class to see them play. That weekend, I bumped into Aomine and Kuroko at a convenience store, and we spent some time to talk. The next week, Midorima was off at practice, and he needed a phone charm... so I gave mine to him for the day. Akashi got me to meet Momoi Satsuki, a sweet girl who was like the extroverted version of me.

It was all heartwarming.


But it didn't last.


Rewritten on: November 28, 2016