I have received so many follower/favorite story notifications for this fic, and I have to say, for my first ever third person work, it feels amazing to have so much support for it so far, seeing as I rarely update it. I cannot thank you all enough for being interested in this work to say the least.

That being said, yes, your eyes are not deceiving you: this is a new and updated chapter! I finally got around to writing another one. I do apologize if the progression of the story is moving along a bit slowly. It'll begin progressing eventually.

Disclaimer: {Kuroko no Basuke, conceptually and character-wise, does not belong to me. I do, however, take credit for my OCs, Yuki and Akako. The quote belongs to John Wooden.}

Chapter V: The Third-String

A coach must never forget that he is a leader and not merely a person with authority – John Wooden

The rest of Yuki's day seemed to become ultimately muddled by rambling thoughts, some leaning towards her bizarre encounter with a certain red-headed child, others prompting her to wonder who could possibly be worthy to be looked upon in the third-string. If it were any other middle school basketball team, perhaps the third-string would have been more likely to have some diamonds in the rough.

However, such a concept did not pertain to her middle school. Teiko was special. Teiko was already a diamond, as flashy and eye-catching as one as well. For the life of her, Yuki simply could not understand the motive behind the request. She continued to drum her fingers along the edge of her desk, attempting to see any form of reason.

Akako was, on the other hand, frustrated. Yuki's incessant drumming was slowly beginning to drain any energy she'd had from earlier out of her as she seemed to almost witness her friend annihilate her brain cells with whatever she was so intensely focused on thinking about. After several unbearable minutes of Yuki's unwanted noise, Akako finally whispered, "Can you please quit it with that tapping? I'm dying over here."

Yuki broke out of her pensive trance, ceasing the movement of her fingers. "What?"

Akako rolled her eyes, "What is your problem? First, you freeze up in front of Akashi – no surprise there, but still – , and now, I swear on my life, the gears in your head were turning while you tapped on the table."

Yuki blushed, realizing that Akako was not the only one probably fed up with her noisy thoughts. She whispered back a hurried, "Sorry," and attempted to immerse herself into what they were learning in her literature class. With the stressful basketball practice yesterday coupled with the disastrous math lesson with Midorima, Yuki'd failed to read the assigned chapters. Now that her thoughts had been led astray by Akashi's words, she'd missed every piece of the commentary about said chapters as well. She inwardly sighed in defeat; it was most certainly not her day, maybe not even her week the way things were going.

"Sooo, Yuki, are we going to get to walk home together today?"

Yuki sighed while packing her school bag, organizing it so that none of her books stuck out in a haphazard fashion. Looking over at Akako's eager face, she realized that this entire basketball fiasco was quickly altering any sort of normalcy she'd had only two days prior, a fact that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"No, Akako. I have to watch the third-string players during basketball practice today. You know, the group Akashi told me to look at this morning?"

Akako closed her left and angled her head to the left, and then laughed. "Oh, you're right! You're right. Ah, well, good luck, Ice Queen. Don't completely blank out like you did in class today, or your grades won't be the only things that end up suffering." Yuki sighed again. Doing poorly in yet another class was the last thing on her mind.

She turned around, mentally preparing herself for her venture into the gym, when a voice broke her out of her reverie: "Do you know where to go to watch the third-string players, or will you need assistance with that as well?"

She looked up, mildly annoyed to have yet another individual feel the need to poke fun at her today. And naturally, that individual was the one, the only, Midorima Shintaro in all his green-haired, sarcastic glory. "Seeing as you walked over here, I'm sure you know that even if I didn't need help walking over to them, you wouldn't believe me in the slightest."

He only stared at Yuki in annoyance. They both knew she was needed all the help she could get directionally.

The third-string players were . . . well, they were normal. As seemingly uneventful a comment as that may seem, Yuki was not startled in the slightest to sit nearby these players and watch them pass to each other, dribble the ball and occasionally shoot for a basket. These players were simple in their methods, yet far less stressful to watch. They were unaware of their strengths, thus they did not hone in on their primary ability, or abilities, making them seem their age. And human. Entirely human, and forgiving of each other's errors as long as they did not affect their own playing style.

And she loved it. These rough around the edges players that teetered between excelling in basketball and being rather deplorable at the sport in general were individuals worth looking at.

"Why are you smiling?" A coach Yuki'd failed to remember the name of walked over, witnessing the ghost of a smile etched on her face. Whatever emotion she'd been feeling slowly faded away as the coach approached her.

Naturally, bashing the elite first-string players was a major "no-no" in their book, so Yuki stumbled through a, "It's just interesting to see how different the different levels of basketball players are," hoping her response didn't sound too ridiculous.

He nodded in agreement. "It's nice to hear an assistant actually appreciate the varying degrees of players our school has to offer as opposed to simply valuing them for their skills." Yuki looked up in surprise.

She must have made a certain expression as he continued, "Well, what I mean is that, like all things, some people grasp a concept easily while others struggle to achieve anything. Some do things for fun, others for competition. And a sport like basketball? It is not surprising to witness such a menagerie of players come together for a common goal: to play."

Yuki nodded, realizing she'd been able to build a minor rapport with one of the coaches. She decided it was better to continue conversing than sitting in silence. "Our school," at that the coach tilted his head to the right, "Well, our school is one for competition." At that, the coach nodded his head. "So, then, why do we have multiple strings of players, such as this one?"

He closed his eyes, realizing Yuki misunderstood a portion of what he was saying. "Despite the fact no two strings are completely alike in terms of the strengths of the players in them, each string maintains that competitive edge we seek in our players: to strive to win, to be the best. Even the boys you witness here struggling to make every shot they throw desire nothing more than to play in the first-string and defend our school's honor."

He opened his eyes to make sure Yuki was following along. She'd realized then that even though she'd praised their imperfect basketball conduct, she'd written them off as being lazier, less determined players.

"So, that's why Akashi informed me that I was to look at these students today?"

He nodded. "Sometimes a fresher set of eyes in needed to see even the slightest indication of a player fitting for a higher string. I'll leave you to it."

Her work was cut out for her.

That first day, Yuki's goal was to learn each of the third-string members' names, years and preferred positions, seeing as otherwise, she had no idea where to begin with such a motley crew. However, she'd become rather perplexed by the seemingly basic roster she'd been given. Each player's name had been written, yet each time she attempted to connect a face to a name, one individual would remain unseen.

That being a certain Kuroko Tetsuya.

For the life of her, Yuki couldn't understand how one boy could continue to either elude her field of vision, or entirely skip out on practice. It was something that truly did not happen at her school. Individuals were not known to slip under the radar, yet this boy continued to go unnoticed. After a painstakingly long half-hour of searching for him, Yuki realized she was fighting a losing battle. She proceeded to approach the coach she was speaking with earlier. He saw her walking closer and tilted his head, awaiting whatever she had to say.

"Erm, I was actually wondering where one of the third string players went?"

The coach gave Yuki a strange glance. "They should be all there. Which student seems to have gone off?"

"Kuroko Tetsuya. I can't seem to find him in particular. I've managed to talk to every other team member as well as gather information on their favored positions and the like, but I have yet to discuss anything with Kuroko."

The coach gave her a small smile. "He's here; he's just a very quiet player. If you call out to him, I'm sure he'll show himself to you."

Yuki nodded, but only walked away more confused than when she first asked the question. She certainly would have seen him practicing in here, quiet or not. She was growing frustrated waiting to find the peculiar player, and left his favored position blank. As practice continued on, she balanced organizing her paperwork, being mindful of Kuroko's possible appearance and seeing if any players may demonstrate a higher level of talent.

As the time dragged by, Yuki realized practice would be over in only a few more minutes, making it too straining to stop everyone and ask for Kuroko to make an appearance.

After the coach blew the whistle, the boys began to file away dabbing their necks and faces with towels after an undeniably intense practice. At that, Yuki began to place her paperwork into a folder, now officially organized alphabetically by position. She felt it was time to head over to the coach to inform him of her findings. However, as she stood up, she inelegantly smacked into one of the players chests, dropping the folder, and unfortunately all of its contents, onto the ground. As the cascade of papers began to litter the floor, Yuki let out a small yelp of surprise, and began to rush to pick up all of the previously sorted papers, startling both herself and the boy she accidentally hit. Yuki, having successfully recollected all of the papers, took a step back realizing her proximity to the player, and let out a semi-breathless, "I'm sorry!"

The boy looked at her, and in that moment, Yuki realized she'd seen him before when she went to pick up her sister in the snow. She could feel a blush starting to adorn her cheeks. She stuttered out an embarrassed, "D-did you need something?" before pulling at the hem of her skirt, attempting to quell her increasing feelings of mortification.

"My name is Kuroko. You didn't ask for my name or position throughout practice." Kuroko then gave her paperwork a glance, as if prompting her to write his name down on one of the haphazardly recollected papers.

"O-oh! Yeah, I'll put you into my notes right away." For the second time since meeting this boy, Yuki felt mystified by his character. Other basketball players wanted to be noticed; they stood out either by their height, their skills, or their attitude. Yet, Kuroko seemed to blend into the surroundings like a ghost. First, he seemed to disappear into the snow; next, he snuck around in the shadows. It confused her deeply.

Biting her lip, Yuki pulled out her pen and checked off his name, satisfied that at last, the missing link was found. "Erm, what position do you particularly enjoy playing in?"

After a couple of seconds, he said, "I'm not really exceptional in any one position." Kuroko put the basketball he was holding onto his left hip, somehow having managed not to drop it in Yuki's klutzy episode. "In truth, I'm not the greatest at playing basketball. I just find it enjoyable." A deadpan, honest answer.

Yuki opened her mouth to ask a question, and then closed it, realizing that perhaps there really were players like Kuroko that existed in this school. However, his lack of interest in a specific spot left her concerned. He'd eventually end up having difficulty perfecting any skills he may have without a distinct goal.

"Well, um, Kuroko, what do you enjoy doing when practicing with the other players?"

He looked at her with his blank gaze. "They don't really notice me practicing alongside them. I mainly practice by myself, especially once everyone leaves the gym." He sighed. "I try to shoot the ball into the hoop, and work on my dribbling."

Yuki nodded, still feeling ultimately confused by the information she was receiving. Out of all the third-string players, Kuroko was quickly becoming a stand-out – in a negative way. "Well, thank you, Kuroko. I have to bring my data to the coach." Giving a still slightly red-faced grimace, she walked away in the direction of the third-string coach's office.

"So, have any of the players caught your eye throughout the entirety of practice?" The coach asked her as she moved into his office. He was making several notes himself, what she assumed would then be brought to the first-string coaches.

Acknowledging the fact he wanted a response, Yuki said, "Well, yes. Kuroko Tetsuya, in fact. He has no idea what he's doing. He has no interests, no notable skills, and yet he continues to show up to practice in what appears to be a fool's errand."

"He joined this club out of his volition, which means he wants to play, Yuki," Coach Matsuoka, as Yuki saw his name from the plaque behind his desk, responded naturally, as though this concept was a matter of fact.

She shook her head, unsatisfied with his lack of concern for one of his players. "He cannot grow or move up as a player without some sense of direction besides the fact he wants to become a first-string member. For him, -"

"—that is a goal he won't achieve?" Matsuoka finished, finally looking up from his paperwork. Yuki nodded, finding what the coach said to be accurate.

"Yuki, I have worked with Kuroko for quite some time since you've arrived, and I can tell you, in simplest terms, that as both a player and a basketball advocate, Kuroko has shown more dedication than any other member on this team," he paused to let his words sink in to Yuki. Unlike the coaches of the first string, not attaining perfection was not a primary concern. Matsuoka continued, "However, I do agree. His lack of inherent ability to do even the simplest of skills is something to worry about."

"Then what should –"

Coach Matsuoka raised his hand to stop her. "That worry is where you and I come in, Yuki. As members of this unit, we have the responsibility to guide our players and unearth their talents. You have a good eye, I can see that. You may be able to help him, but that is something you must figure out on your own."

Realizing she was being dismissed, Yuki bowed to the coach and left his office.

Apparently, she had far more on her plate than simply assisting what she had previously assumed to be a perfect team.