While I didn't post this chapter as soon as I wanted to, I did end up writing one fairly quickly. I'm slowly starting to expand the cast of KnB allowing my OC to make more connections with different players. It's a struggle trying to keep everyone in character. It's also so hard writing when you come up with an idea and realize that in a previous chapter, the two ideas contradict. Luckily, I think I fixed one of the more glaring mistakes that I noticed back in the third chapter.

Thanks to everyone that has been keeping up with me so far! And to my latest followers and favorites, I thank you so much!

Disclaimer: {I do not own Kuroko no Basuke. I only own my OCs. The Korean candy mentioned is in fact an authentic brand, as is Pocky, and of course, neither treat belongs to me.}

Chapter 8: Leave the Nicknaming to the Girls

"Titles are but nicknames, and every nickname is a title." - Thomas Paine

Entry #2: Apologies

I guess it goes without saying that I most certainly bombed that quiz we had in class today, Sensei. While it was not at all intentional, I must admit that my mind was ultimately preoccupied with a rather horrible conversation I had only fifteen minutes prior to class starting.

Even while writing, I can't seem to shake that conversation from my mind. I won't go into the finite details, but never have I had someone insult me so much in the span of the fastest shogi game in history.

I almost entirely regret not performing better at shogi, as I used to play a lot when I was younger and clearly it showed today. Not that my speaking skills were much better.

I wonder if Midorima-san knows what my horoscope looked like for the day? I'm sure it was rather deplorable.

On an entirely unrelated note, I'm currently unsure as to how long to make these entries, Sensei. This one seems a bit short, but I don't want to ramble about my events for today.

"He threatened you?"

"You know what, Kuroko-san? Yes, he absolutely did threaten me, so our surplus of opportunities has diminished into only one option: create and execute a plan in three months to improve your skills."

"I didn't realize –"

Yuki cut him off, "Save it! No worries. Wouldn't be the first time someone attempted to put me in my place for not doing everything as they wanted it." Kuroko raised his eyebrows. "I live in a family of three sisters, naturally we aren't always going to see eye-to-eye."

"What should we do first, Morine-san?"

Kuroko and Yuki were sitting on one of the bleachers in the gym after classes. Despite Akashi's threat, it wasn't as if the world slowed down for Yuki to learn to manage her time. She was still an assistant manager, a student under Midorima's tutelage, a normal student herself and a coach for Kuroko. Just because one individual expected more from one position, it did not mean all the other positions ceased to exist.

"I'm thinking we talk to my father, honestly."

Kuroko looked at her. "Your father?"

She nodded. "Obviously I'm no athlete, but my father used to play a good number of sports growing up, especially in high school, for scholarships. One of his favorites happened to be basketball."

"You think he can help?"

"Well, I certainly hope he can, Kuroko-san," she said quietly. "I make no promises, though. He's busy throughout most of the day. I'm not sure cramming in lots of practice over the weekend would be productive."

Kuroko nodded. "It's okay if he can't do it."

"Nonsense!" Yuki told him loudly. "Even though Akashi directly threatened me, he indirectly also had his sights on your efforts in this project, and I, for one, would rather no one else have to deal with an interaction so mind-numbingly brutal."

Kuroko looked at her, a slight emotion in his eyes that Yuki was unable to place. "It was that bad?"

"I mean, perhaps I am exaggerating a bit, but I have to say, he has a way with ruining whatever confidence you may have had about yourself."

Kuroko looked down, a downward expression on his face. "I feel like it's my fault, Morine-san."

"It's more or less my fault, honestly. I have a bad habit of including myself in situations that certainly do not mandate my being there." She smiled at Kuroko, trying to raise the dark mood between the two of them. "You never have to worry about me; I'm simply here to serve."

She saw his lips raise a bit and knew she won that internal battle he was waging concerning her discussion with Akashi.

"Now, I hate to lower our spirits, but three months is both a lot and not a lot of time for improvement," she started to explain to Kuroko, tucking her long, dark hair behind her ears. "Whenever you learn anything, an instrument, a sport, how to write even, your body converts these actions into memory. So, if you learn something improperly, like . . ." Yuki trailed off trying to think of a good example. "Like, for instance, having an improper bow hold on the violin, it is that much harder to go back and fix it after you've done it for a long time."

Kuroko looked at Yuki, nodding.

"Not to say you play basketball wrong, but your body has already imagined playing basketball in a certain way and suddenly we have to change it entirely to benefit a playing style solely for you. It's a difficult thing to deal with."

"Do you think it's possible to create a playing style for me within this time period?"

Yuki looked up at the gym ceiling and laughed. "Oh, Kuroko-san, if I could fix my entire playing position on the violin to adequately hit all the notes on the fingerboard, then I certainly believe that we can get you playing your own version of basketball very soon."

"Did Akashi-san happen to tell you what we discussed after you left the room?"

Midorima was working on a paper for their history class, something about the impact of the samurai during one of the warlord periods. At least, that's what Yuki hoped he was working on, as he was writing a lot and that was the only essay that came to mind.

"He did not," Midorima pushed his glasses up. "He's a private individual when he wants to be."

Yuki scoffed, "Oh, yes, how could I forget that Akashi-san can be a private individual, but everyone else is an open book. Fantastic."

Midorima gave her a stern look. "It is wrong to talk about someone when they aren't around, Morine-san."

"Yes, well, it's also wrong for said individual to snoop through personal school information and then threaten that very same person over a board game, but I guess that's irrelevant in the grand scheme of things."

He sighed deeply, stretching out his writing hand. "I take it you lost, then?"

"If by 'lose,' you mean he absolutely obliterated my side of the board in a ridiculously short amount of time, then yes, by all means, I lost."

"He's the best," Midorima mumbled out, looking a bit frustrated himself.

Yuki was surprised. She grabbed some of her hair and began to twirl it realizing that her anger with Akashi may not be falling upon deaf ears. "You've never won against him either?"

"Never. Akashi never loses," he glanced up at her again. "If you're this frustrated about one loss, I might have to reevaluate your entire character, Morine-san."

"What do you mean by that?"

He went back to working on his essay. "I just meant that I thought you had more fight in you than that."

Yuki dragged Kuroko away from the gym after she finished her math work with Midorima. The numbers were still a challenge, but something about the way Midorima presented the information made it seem a little less confusing to her. Perhaps one of the few good things she had come to glean from knowing him.

Kuroko didn't want to intrude on her family, nor did he want Yuki to push her father to assist them. However, Yuki would hear none of it. If Midorima said she had a fighter's tenacity, then she would bring all she had to take on Akashi.

"Kuroko-san."

He looked at her.

"I understand that the circumstances of you coming to my home are a bit bizarre and the hour a bit late, but I can assure you that any guest in our home is a welcome one. It may catch my parents by surprise, but it's not like you're a noisy individual in any way." She gave smiled at him. "I haven't had a guest over in quite some time, beyond Akako occasionally asking for me to go to the park with her."

"It is late, though." Kuroko's deadpan reaction made her pause a bit.

"If we can at least explain to my father what's going on, he might have some pointers for us! Think of all the possibilities we could use."

As much as she wanted to utilize this time to hear about ways to help develop Kuroko's playing style, Yuki also wanted to hear about her father's basketball glory days. She'd never really asked him, even after all her reading about the sport. Probably because sports never truly appealed to her, so asking her father about them might give off a bad impression.

"This is my home," Yuki said, pointing to the gate brandishing the 'Morine' name. "Welcome, welcome!" She walked up the steps feeling better about her home than she had recently. Kuroko slowly followed, taking in the external appearance of her home.

The house was nothing extravagant. Her mother always carried a modest belief of simplicity. Small trees lined the perimeter of the home, ranging in sizes and varieties of green. The steps were composed of older stones, a few having broken or corroded – obvious signs of age having afflicted them. The discolored wood of the home gave it a worn appearance, but the vines that seemed to have rooted themselves to the pieces emphasized the opposite appearance – new life.

Opening the front door for Kuroko to follow, Yuki proceeded to take her shoes off and place her slippers on instead. Kuroko continued to stand in the doorway, looking a bit lost. "Come, come," she whispered. "There's no need to stand in the doorway."

After ushering Kuroko further into the hallway, Yuki than began to motion for him to move into the living room. "You can sit on the couch over there, Kuroko-san. I'm going to look for my father, would you like anything while I'm up and about?"

Kuroko shook his head, seemingly lost in the living room décor. The living room was filled with books of all shapes, sizes, textures and designs, ranging from textbooks, to English books and even Chinese philosophical texts. While a television had been placed in the room, it looked like a secondary activity to all the literature present. Different plants were on display, some interwoven between bookcases, others in larger pots near the doorway. For someone with a colder disposition, Yuki's living room told an extremely different story.

However, what truly caught Kuroko's eye was the picture hanging on the wall near the television – a family portrait of the Morine household: Yuki's two parents, Yuki herself, a younger girl, one that Kuroko was familiar with after the snowball incident, and a third, older girl, who seemed eerily reminiscent of Yuki, but with lighter, russet hair.

"Otou-san! He's in the living room!"

Kuroko looked over to see Yuki's father approach, taking in his taller stature – six feet even. Facially, he and Yuki were nothing alike, but behaviorally, they were very similar. He could tell from their gait that Yuki had taken after her father in certain instances. Kuroko stood up and bowed to her father out of respect.

"No, no. There's no need for that," Yuki's father told Kuroko in a playful tone. "Any guest in my home will be treated as such. And anyone that can stand to be around Yuki deserves a bow, truthfully." He grinned mockingly at his daughter.

"Otou-san," she mumbled out, a faint blush beginning to adorn her cheeks.

"Sit, sit, you two," Yuki's father called out, motioning to the couch. After everyone was comfortably seated, he began to speak. "So, I was informed a mere few minutes ago that you're the wonderkid."

Kuroko gave her father a weird look, not understanding what he was talking about.

"Well, maybe you don't think that way because you haven't gotten to truly experience your talents firsthand," Yuki's father paused, glancing at his daughter for support.

She continued for him. "What my father means is that he's known for a while that you've had a good passing technique since the snowball incident with my sister."

Kuroko looked surprised, remembering nothing special about the incident. "But that's just passing."

Her father smirked a bit. "Well, aren't you just brimming with words, kid?" He shook his head. "You've never really had someone play the sport with you, have you? And no, I don't mean fellow classmates or a coach, or my basketball-challenged daughter seated next to you."

Yuki cleared her throat. "Otou-san was wondering if you'd like to practice a bit with him, Kuroko-san? Just to gauge where you are currently."

He stared at Yuki for a moment before asking, "Right now?"

"If that's all right?"

"That's fine, Morine-san," Kuroko replied, no more emphatic than he was a few moments prior.

Yuki smirked. "Shall we head over to the court then?"

Kuroko left later that night, but early enough that Yuki's father didn't feel too guilty about having him practice that long. He took it slowly with Kuroko, analyzing his stance, the way in which he dribbled and how he proceeded to throw or catch the large orange sphere. Yuki's father asked Yuki to take note each time he mentioned Kuroko's hand and foot placement as well as how many fingers he had on the ball at each instance. If his wrist was angled to one side over the other, Yuki was to make note. The smallest of details, the minutia that others would disregard – Yuki was expected to record it.

And record it she did.

"Thoughts, Otou-san?"

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. He sighed and looked down at his daughter as they walked back from the nearest court. "He's one of the strangest kids I've ever seen."

Yuki laughed quietly.

"No, I mean it, kiddo. Where did you find this one?" He smiled a bit. "Perhaps a more accurate question, how did you find this kid?"

"You have difficulty seeing him as well?"

Her father nodded. "You weren't messing around when you said he seemed to appear out of thin air. It's almost magical how one second I couldn't imagine anyone in the living room, and then suddenly, he was there, standing."

The two were almost at the front step when her father stopped. Yuki looked up at him, nudging his elbow playfully. "Did you have fun?"

"Oh, Yuki, it'll take a lot more than merely throwing a basketball for me to truly have fun," he smiled down at her. However, his smile was short-lived, and he began to frown. She tilted her head in question. "He needs a lot of work. A lot of time. Time, something I don't have much to spend."

"You can't help him, then?"

Her father shook his head. "I didn't say that. But there needs to be someone else."

Yuki sighed. She knew it would most likely come down to a debate between how much her father could work and how much he could train Kuroko, and obviously an individual's occupation comes before helping a middle school student. She had hoped there might have been a slight miracle, but her father was a busy man.

"Now wait a minute," her father drawled out, catching the forlorn look that crossed her features. "I might not always have the time, but it doesn't mean I don't know anyone else in this universe who does."

"You know someone who can help?"

"I just might." He winked at her.

"Do you need anything from the market, Okaa-san?"

Yuki, in the hopes of earning good fortune from her mother, had been attempting at every moment possible to help serve her, be it grocery shopping or running random errands. As it was the weekend, Yuki had a greater opportunity to do more for her mother.

"Some green onions, mushrooms and milk would be nice. If you can pick up that bizarre candy your sister has become infatuated with, I would appreciate it. I never know what to buy, and she's been hounding me for days to get some."

Yuki smiled, realizing it was probably some "My Chew" or version of said taffy-like candy. "Is there a specific flavor she wanted?" Her mother shook her head. "Well, I'll be back soon, then!"

The market was equidistant to her home as was the school, so Yuki felt comfortable with the commute. The older she got, the more daring she had been in taking public transportation, and with her allowance, the bus fare was never a daunting one. Her only qualm with the bus ride was the large amount of people that also rode throughout the day; she was almost certain to be standing round-trip. She was pleased when the bus dictated that the next stop was her own – she'd been in extremely close quarters with a few extremely grumpy looking individuals and hoped not to bump into any of them during the twists and turns across the streets.

Before heading to the market, Yuki thought it would be best to grab her sister's candy first. One of the convenience stores closer to the school looked promising; she and Akako had purchased interesting Pocky flavors there only a short while ago.

Upon walking in, she nodded to the clerk at the counter and proceeded to hunt for the candy. Seeing the different kinds of sweets was always a temptation, but Yuki had gotten rather good at evading her sweet tooth. She'd been so preoccupied scanning the aisle for the treats, she bumped into another individual rather harshly, causing them to drop a plethora of candies and other desserts onto the ground.

Yuki called out in embarrassment, "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" only to realize she was looking at a skyscraper, rather than a human being. The individual in front of her had to be over a foot taller than her – even taller than Midorima! Rather than wait for him to respond, Yuki rushed to pick up all the food he was holding. "I was looking for some weird new candy my sister has been desiring for days and didn't even realize you were there." Yuki looked up at him, hoping to find forgiveness for her actions.

"I don't want it."

She stumbled a bit at that. "You don't want what?"

The skyscraper sighed, "The food that you dropped."

Yuki grumbled a bit, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "I thought you dropped the snacks."

"No, you dropped my food."

The purple-haired giant didn't move. He just continued to stare at his food in a state of lethargy.

"Oh, come on. I'm sure the sweets are fine," she tried to release some of the tension building between them. "If you'd like, we could go find some other treats as well?"

"Only if you buy them," he mumbled out, his voice taking on a rather childish tone in Yuki's opinion.

She could feel her anger starting to rise within her and had to restrain herself from commenting in a biting manner. "I already apologized for dropping your candy," Yuki breathed a bit shakily. "I really am under no obligation to buy more candy for you."

"These are ruined." He proceeded to point to a few of the cakes that he had been holding. "They were a lot better looking until you walked into me."

Yuki sighed, realizing she was talking to an overgrown child. "If I purchase more cakes for you, will that be okay?" She felt it would be a good time to check what money she had saved up beyond what her mother gave her.

"Fine," he mumbled out, still looking perturbed that she wouldn't purchase new candy for him. Deep down, they both knew very well that the cakes were fine, squished a bit and certainly unattractive, but still well wrapped.

They walked over to the baked goods section of the store, Yuki ogling at the variety of chocolate cakes they had to offer, while the purple-haired snack-addict began to hold cakes out to her. "I want these."

She looked down at all the cakes in her arms and shuddered at the cost these were going to amount to. "Uh, you do understand you picked out seven cakes rather than the three you dropped?"

He nodded, continuing to look at the sweets on display. "It's interest for waiting so long to get me more."

A large, rather unbelievable sigh came from Yuki. She closed her eyes in disbelief. Of all the people to run into, she would hit an immature boy in the body of a man. "Let's just buy these for you, then. That way you don't have to wait any longer."

The clerk at the counter looked mildly impressed at the ridiculous amount of small cakes and tarts Yuki brought up. After having recently scanned the boy's original order, and then to see him having returned with a girl in tow, beyond the simple formalities of "Hello," and "Would you like these in a bag?" the clerk was at a loss for words.

Yuki was beyond annoyed at the amount of money all these things cost for the stranger, but she reined in her temper – well, after she practically threw the bag at him. Just as she was about to walk away, the stranger began to talk to her again. "You know Aka-chin, right?"

Her heart stopped. She rattled her brain for any other individual that may have the start of 'Aka' in their name, but beyond Akako, there was only one person that could possibly be the candidate. She slowly turned around, her annoyance morphing into nervousness. "Do you happen to mean Seijūrō Akashi?"

The boy was biting into one of the tarts he purchased and nodded. "He talks about you at practice from time to time."

"Oh, does he now?" She almost whispered.

He'd already gotten to his third cake before responding, "Aka-chin is really scary when he is angry." Looking down at her, Yuki was met with several different emotions, an overhanging feeling of laziness, annoyance and what looked to almost be a sadistic spitefulness. "I liked the cakes I picked out better the first time."

That was when she decided she officially hated the color purple.

She'd deduced that that was yet another member of the first-string team. Certainly, it was obvious by the very mention of a specific mental terrorist, but for the life of her, Yuki could not remember anything about the creature she met today. He must have been at the practices before Yuki monitored the third-string, but with everything being thrown at her, he must have slipped from her memories.

He was a creepy kid. All those sweets would easily lead to an early heart attack and by the rate to which he was consuming them, it would be soon. However, it was his outward feel that made Yuki so nervous; he didn't feel threatening, he was just a tall kid. What made him frightening was the inner switch that seemed to activate at random within him – that split second in which he went from a complaining teenager to almost a threatening person in general scared her.

She almost wondered if it was a bad idea to get Kuroko up to the level to play with these boys. They seemed so violent in their demeanors. Even Momoi's friend, Aomine Daiki, as fearful as he was of ghosts, seemed like a terrifying force to be reckoned with. To be honest, Momoi herself seemed devious. If anything, Akashi probably got some of Yuki's records from her – that was the kind of individual she seemed to be.

Brilliance was a scary thing, and Yuki felt like running from it.

Her errands began to feel like mundane chores by the time she was complete. Having lost all interest in being in the public eye, Yuki decided to venture back towards the bus stop. Her inner ramblings must have been too powerful, however, as while she was humbly unaware, a cotton-candied-haired pair was also waiting. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk causing a woman walking behind her to almost smash into her with the speed she had been walking at. With a huff, the woman gave her a dirty look and walked away.

Yuki felt bad, but another encounter with those insanely bright-haired individuals might just be the final nail on her coffin. Yuki was unsure of what to do – she could easily take the bus and deal with her two classmates, or she could wait and prolong her time to get home, leading to a later dinner. She must have been making quite a face based on the looks a few of the adults were giving her, but she couldn't help it. Yuki sighed in defeat and walked over to the bus stop.

The girl just wanted to go home.

Yuki knew it would be too much to hope for that if she simply silently stood close to the bus stop, neither fellow Teikō student would notice her, but Momoi was like a shark with the scent of blood in the water. The minute Yuki was in range, Momoi shot up in joy.

"Kiki-chan!"

Yuki almost choked. Rubbing her throat, she turned to Momoi, feeling the red hue permeate on her face. "Momoi-san, what did you just call me?"

Momoi pouted. "I told you to call me Momo-chan, Kiki-chan!" She smiled widely, her pink hair blowing softly behind her. "See, now you and I have cuter names!"

"Momo-chan?! She wants to emphasize her hair color?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Yuki saw Aomine roll his eyes at his friend's antics. She was envious of his ability to be completely unphased by the pink-haired girl. He was lazily seated on the bench, legs stretched out – the epitome of comfort. Unphased, unbothered, disinterested – yes, Yuki was absolutely envious.

Trying to be less stiff, Yuki smiled politely. "Well, thank you for the nickname, Momo-chan," the smile faltered a bit. "I haven't been given one for a long time."

Momoi lit up happily. "You know what else I realized?"

Yuki shrugged, playing along for the benefit of the passing of time. "What?"

"You, Dai-chan and I all have the 'ki' sound in our given names!" Momoi seemed to be unbelievably pleased with this discovery. "We absolutely must become better friends, Kiki-chan! It was meant to be."

If Yuki was meant to die back when she bumped into the purple-haired giant, she wished she did at that very moment.

"Ne, Momo-chan," Yuki started, not really knowing where to go from here. Momoi was a carbon copy of Akako with almost three times the energy. "You really don't have to go out of your way to include me in your friend group – with us being in different classes and all." Yuki bit her cheek; that was rude. Everything she was doing today was coming out wrong. Did Oha-Asa curse her or something? Was she turning into Midorima with the amount of times she had referenced these horoscopes in the past few days? What on earth was happening?

Momoi looked a bit downcast. "Kiki-chan, is it the nickname? I can think of a different one for you, if you'd like?" While Momoi's happiness wasn't infectious, her sadness was the real deal; Yuki felt a bit depressed seeing how forlorn her classmate looked.

Aomine looked up from the magazine he was ogling at. "It ain't the nickname, Satsuki. She just doesn't want to hang out with us," he drawled out, emphasizing the last bit of the sentence.

"Oh," she pouted. "Is that true, Kiki-san?" Momoi looked down, her pale bangs falling into her face. "I just thought with us all being a part of the basketball team, we should be better friends, but if you're not interested . . ." She broke off quietly, her voice having lost most of its joviality.

Yuki sighed. Leave it up to yet another basketball player to ruin her mood. "No, no, Momo-chan. I just don't usually hang out with other students outside of class. You, uh," Yuki held the back of her neck, feeling rather awkward about the whole thing. "You took me by surprise is all." For good measure, Yuki added in her compliments concerning the nickname.

As though someone flipped a switch, Momoi sprung back into the universe as the bubbly pinkette that she was. "Oh, yes! I am so excited, Kiki-chan! I cannot wait to spend so much time with you!"

Aomine rolled his eyes again, but a small smirk was begging to stretch across his face.

Yuki tried her best to smile, starting to think about how this decision was going to impact the already small amount of time she had throughout her days.

Tired wasn't going to be a concept nor a lifestyle anymore; it was going to be a living, walking manifestation.

Where on earth was that bus?