A/N: Thank you for your reviews, favourites and alerts. I'm using my chapter buffer to update for the moment, so replies to reviews will still be delayed. Thanks again for your patience. You're all awesome.

You Were Conceived Next to a Tortoise Enclosure

The Unholy Stall

The sticky spring weather was beginning to get to people in the wrong way, turn their brains to short-tempered mush, make them act rashly without a thought to the consequences, blah blah blah… That was the excuse Tsukino Kame planned to give the vice-principal when she was asked about the students from the disciplinary committee in the Nurse's office.

"Two weeks into the school year and you're already causing trouble," said Papa Tsukino, pacing back and forth in the waiting room. With every step, he seemed to shake the foundations of the building, his large shadow flitting across the faces of his wife and daughter. "My daughter's going to be the first student in the history of Teiko to be suspended(1). I won't be able to show my face in public. Seppuku? Maybe I can commit seppuku."

"Papa is overexaggerating because Papa's having a hard time channelling his anger," said Mama Tsukino, smiling as she tucked a strand of her daughter's hair behind her ear. Tsukino merely scowled into the distance. "Although, if they do suspend you, you can help me look after your baby brother while you're off school."

Tsukino's mouth fell open in horror.

"If she gets suspended, I'm abandoning her at a convent."

Tsukino let out a sigh of relief.

The office door opened and one of the students from the disciplinary committee came out. Greeted by Kame's creepy grin, which was filled with promises of their next meeting, the girl tried to withdraw but a hand fell on her shoulder and thrust her forward. The vice-principal waved her off with a pursed smile.

Papa Tsukino swung round and glared at his daughter. "Stop. Grinning."

Tsukino stopped.

"Gekkou-san, Beniko-san," said vice-principal Yamamoto, shaking her parents' hands. "It's a pleasure to see you both again. I trust the boys are doing well?"

Tsukino made a face like she had bitten into a lemon as Mama Tsukino beamed at the vice-principal. "They are. Thank you. You're so kind to enquire after them."

"We do miss them here at Teiko," said Yamamoto-sensei, her gaze falling on Tsukino a millisecond longer than necessary. "They were a great asset to the school."

Tsukino wondered if she would still say that if she knew what Zinan used to get up to in the toilets after practise.

"You'll wait here a moment, Kame," said Vice-principal Yamamoto. "I'd like to have a word with your parents first."

Tsukino slumped into the chair.

Alone now except for Old Lady Hashimoto, the eighty-two year old receptionist, Tsukino was tempted to skip out on the disciplinary meeting and face the wrath of her parents when she got home. Or at least her father's wrath. Her mother, the resident hippie, incense sticks and aromatherapy abound, was almost impossible to piss off. If it weren't for the fact that she always smelled like freshly baked cookies and breast milk, Tsukino would have been inclined to agree with their neighbours' suspicion that Mama Tsukino was a pothead.

Just as she was contemplating whether or not Kuroko would let her hide out in his house until everything blew over, Zinan, the second oldest and least favourite of her brothers, walked into the waiting room. She slumped further into the chair and tried to make herself as small as possible, which wasn't too difficult.

"Oh hoh hoh! Midget Middle Child," exclaimed Zinan, going over to her, a swagger in his step. Zinan boasted a height of one hundred and ninety centimetres. Literally. He never shut up about it. "What's this, the third time they've been called in?"

Fourth, but who was counting.

"What are you doing here?" said Tsukino, glaring sourly at him. "Shouldn't you be at your own school, far, far away from here?"

"Kuroko called me and told me what happened," said Zinan. Tsukino made a mental note to beat the traitor later. "What did they do to piss off The Almighty Midget Middle Child this time?"

"They called me The Almighty Midget Middle Child."

Zinan threw his head back and laughed that infuriating glittery laugh of his.

"Why are you here?" asked Tsukino, feeling the vein pulse in her forehead.

"Well, Kuroko suggested I use my charm on the vice-principal to stop you from getting suspended. I'm missing practise for this so you better show some gratitude. Takeuchi's a stickler for rules."

"You have about as much charm as a donkey fart," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go away, I don't need your help."

"Ah perhaps not my help, but you might need his," said Zinan, cocking his head back. "Oi, Buro, stop dragging your feet."

With an almost imperceptible tread, Saburo, Tsukino's favourite brother if only because she could bully him into doing her bidding, appeared in the waiting room, his droopy eyes averted nervously to the ground.

"Hi, Kame-nee," said Saburo. "Zi-nii said that you were about to be suspended and that I could help you."

Standing at one hundred and fifty six centimetres, he was almost as tall as Teiko's Akashi Seijuro. He was also still two years away from joining Teiko himself. That was, Tsukino realised, unless he decided not to apply for some reason. Like his sister being suddenly suspended perhaps...

"You're going to pimp out our innocent, baby brother," said Tsukino, eyes wide.

"Do you have a problem with that?" asked Zinan.

"Nope," she said, slumping further into the chair.

"GREETINGS TETSUYA," Tsukino announced loudly into Kuroko's ear as he exited the changing rooms.

He wriggled his pinkie finger in his ear. "Maybe we should take you to see an Otolaryngologist."

"An Otalagoblawhat?"

"Ear doctor."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Haha."

Kuroko stared at her.

"Get it? Because ear doctor."

The kind of judgemental silence only Kuroko could generate expanded between them.

"Anyway," said Tsukino. "At the suggestion of the disciplinary committee, they're making me speak to someone once a week. I am also required to have perfect attendance for the rest of the year. All because that bastard president still holds a grudge."

"You did leave dog pooh in his locker."

"Last year! And he deserved it," said Tsukino. "What happened to the honour code? Thou shalt not rat, or whatever. What kind of spineless creature willingly forms a school disciplinary committee, I ask you, Tetsuya?"

"Mmm," said Kuroko, eyes darting absentmindedly to the court.

"Am I keeping you from fraternising with the cool first-stringers?" Tsukino said, reaching up and pinching Kuroko's cheeks. "You are obligated, Tetsuya, obligated until the day you die to listen to me complain."

"Please don't do that, Kame-san," he said, batting her hands away.

"Don't you want to know what my punishment is? Courtesy of Buro's soul?"

Kuroko blinked. He didn't like the look in her eyes. "What?"

Before she could answer, a wave of first-stringers started pouring out of the changing rooms sweeping Kuroko along with them.

As Tsukino watched him head towards his dream, she remembered all the gruelling practices and after-school training sessions that had culminated in this and felt something swell in her chest. Then she burped and the feeling was gone.

"Um, Tsukino-san?"

Tsukino turned and found herself face to face with a girl holding a clipboard to her chest, smiling politely. Tsukino's posture automatically went limp upon seeing her.

"Hey, Momoi-san."

Though they had both heard of one and other through Kuroko and Aomine, their first official meeting hadn't occurred until a week ago when Momoi dragged Aomine over by the scuff of his collar and forced him to apologise to Tsukino for nearly drowning her. It seemed Aomine had failed to mention to Momoi about the beehive incident, or the subsequent beating Tsukino received as recompense. Of course, upon seeing the glare Aomine was sending her from behind his childhood friend's back, tacitly advising her to keep her damn mouth shut, Tsukino had swiftly accepted the apology and run far, far away.

"Welcome to the first-string gymnasium," Momoi said warmly. "I don't know if Aomine-kun told you, but I'm one of the managers for the basketball team. I'll be supervising you today."

Tsukino was only thankful that it was Momoi and not Nijimura. Two years was a long time, but he was the type to hold grudges through several reincarnations. Judging by the way he was currently yelling at some grey haired kid on the other side of the court for speaking out of turn, his vengeance would be severe.

An incomprehensible whine fell from Tsukino's lips.

Momoi cocked her head to the side. "Eh?"

"I'm going to die," she mumbled pathetically.

"Uh… ahh," said Momoi, following Tsukino's line of sight.

Aomine and the other regulars were standing in a semi-circle around the captain watching as he punished Haizaki.

"Did Aomine-kun do something to you again?" Momoi demanded, flinging her clipboard down and rolling up her sleeves. "That pig-headed idiot doesn't ever learn."

Eyes wide, Tsukino put herself in Momoi's murderous path and held her hands up.

"Misunderstanding!" she squeaked. "Misunderstanding!"

"Tsukino-san, you don't have to be afraid -"

"Aomine is a kind and merciful being," Tsukino said robotically. She repeated the script Aomine had made her recite as he sat on her back, mushing her face into the grass while unashamedly eating the sweets she had bought him as a peace offering. "To even know him is one of the greatest of honours."

Momoi's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"U-uh… isn't there some sweaty basketball player underwear I'm supposed to be cleaning the skid marks off right now, Momoi-san?" asked Tsukino.

This seemed to distract Momoi for the time being, perhaps glad to find a foothold in the bizarre conversation.

"Ah, you don't have to worry about that yet. Laundry isn't until after practice. And it's mostly towels and uniforms."

"Oh right," said Tsukino, not hearing the last part. Her body radiated despair. "you have to wait until they've gotten all their sweaty juices locked in, huh. Hey, Momoi-san?"

"Mm?"

"Do we get special clamp stick thingies?" asked Tsukino, extending her arm and making strange claw-like gestures with her fingers. "So we don't have to touch the underwear?"

Momoi pressed her pen to her lips thoughtfully before scrawling it down on the clipboard. "That would be a really good idea actually."

Tsukino's shoulders slumped. "So that's a no."

"Sorry. The assistant managers will be here soon though. We'll help with laundry, so you won't have to deal with it by yourself."

"So there are people out there who willingly volunteer to touch sweaty basketball underwear?" Tsukino asked, raising an eyebrow.

Momoi led Tsukino into the locker room. "I guess you could say it's one of the duties in helping out the basketball club, and again it's mainly towels and-"

"You know they say that boys who can do their own laundry make good husbands," said Tsukino.

Their noses were hit with the overpoweringly dense aroma of antiperspirant uncomfortably mixed with sweat. Both girls, having grown up around the various odours of the male species, and in Tsukino's case her own, didn't bat an eyelid.

"Does that mean Kuroko-kun can do his own laundry?" asked Momoi, smiling suggestively at Tsukino.

It took a moment for the comment to sink in.

"TETSUYA!" Tsukino bellowed. Somewhere on the court, a distracted Kuroko passed to the opposing team and received a death glare from a purple haired giant.

"Oh sorry, I just thought- Aomine-kun said that you two were always together."

"By that logic shouldn't you and Aomine be expecting your fifth child right about now?"

A mortified blush sprung to Momoi's cheeks. "It's not like that!"

Tsukino straightened up suddenly, lifting her hand up to convey that she needed a moment to mentally prepare. Momoi, utterly confused at this point, obliged nevertheless. When Tsukino began speaking, it sounded like she was reciting a pre=prepared speech.

"Tetsuya and I met when we were three years old at Day Care. For a long time Tetsuya was in love with me, which is understandable because, well-" here she gestured to herself. Momoi bit her lip to restrain a smile and nodded. "-Eventually his feelings for me became too much to bear and he confessed (it was very sweet, he bought me a lollypop). Long story short, I rejected him, he pulled my hair, I poked his eye. It was all very messy, but so ends the romantic tale of Tsukino Kame and Kuroko Tetsuya at the ripe age of three and a half."

"That's a cute story," Momoi said with a sigh, her thoughts turning dark as she remembered how she and Aomine first met.

"He likes to deny all knowledge of the incident. Sometimes he even tries to claim that it was I who confessed to him. Can you believe the nerve of that guy?"

"So do you play basketball too?" asked Momoi, deciding there was no right answer to that question.

Tsukino scratched the back of her head, eyes narrowing. "Well… I'm a little out of practice right now."

"Oshiro-san recently told me that the girls' basketball team would love to take on new members if you're interested."

Recalling the face of the captain of the girls' basketball team, Tsukino's expression darkened and she muttered several nasty words under her breath.

"Sorry?"

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," said Tsukino, grinning at Momoi with all her teeth. It looked painful.

"Ah…well, here we are."

They had stopped outside the toilets. Tsukino peeked in and saw a bunch of cleaning supplies propped up near one of the urinals. With a frighteningly blank expression on her face, she stretched her arm out and pointed inside.

"I have to clean the toilets?"

Momoi gave her a strained smile as if to say she had no choice in the matter. "Yamamoto-sensei's orders."

"That is where they pee and defecate!" Tsukino blurted out, all cool flying out the window. "Zi-nii told me he took a girl in there once and they- they did things in one of the stalls!"

Nodding sympathetically, Momoi placed a hand on Tsukino's shoulder and shoved her inside. "Good luck."

"It's funny. The managers have never been asked to clean the toilets before," Momoi said an hour later.

Tsukino was lying on her belly on one of the benches in a zombiefied state, groaning and uttering mystifying statements about crescent moon shaped urinal cakes.

"Detention, huh? American's come up with the weirdest punishments."

"I think I found the stall… the unholy stall."

"Makes you wonder why Yamamoto-sensei would suggest something like that."

"Yamamoto… she holds a grudge," Tsukino muttered, rolling her face to the side so that she could meet Momoi's pink eyes with her dead fish ones. Many held a grudge when it came to Tsukino, Momoi would soon learn.

"Eh? Why?"

Tsukino averted her eyes. "It may have something to do with me smashing her car window during the opening ceremony."

"How-?"

"I threw a rock at it."

"Oh. On purpose?"

"I was aiming for Zi-nii. But I regret nothing."

"Well… Yamamoto-sensei can be pretty scary I guess."

"She always used to flirt with my brothers when they went here. And I once caught her checking out Tetsuya's butt."

"No way! Seriously?" exclaimed Momoi.

"Yep… total perv."

"You know, now that I think about it, she does come to practice a lot."

"She has a thing for the young ones."

Momoi giggled, mock realisation dawning on her features. "She and Akashi-kun are always off to the side talking."

"They're probably discussing their weekend love hotel reservations."

"Or exchanging love letters."

"Of course. They can't leave an electronic trail otherwise they'd be sure to be discovered."

"It's like Romeo and Juliet," said Momoi, with a swooning sigh.

"What's that?"

"Momoi-san," said a third voice.

Momoi yelped, flying backwards into the lockers with a clang. Standing at the end of the row, glaring at them through his spectacles, was Midorima Shintarou.

Tsukino met his green eyes with her dead fish ones.

"Forget everything you just heard," she said in her most eerie warning voice.

For a moment, it seemed as though Midorima was going to say something; she could feel the sparks of contempt coming off him. Then, without a word, he opened his locker, retrieved a small teacup and walked away, shoulders squared officiously as if to say he was above their childish tittering.

"Shintarou," called Tsukino.

He stopped, his shoulders twitching, probably at being referred to so casually. "Refrain from referring to me so casually, Tsukino."

"Is that today's lucky item, Shintarou?" asked Tsukino.

Sitting behind Midorima for the entirety of first year had meant they were often forced to partner up with each other, which was actually, if she overlooked his personality, a blessing in disguise. She was bottom of the year after all. As a result, she had developed a good understanding of his strange habits, particularly his obsession with Oha-asa.

Wearily, he lifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Of course. A Japanese imperial tea cup-"

"Would be a shame if something were to happen to it."

Sighing, Midorima turned away. It worked both ways. Midorima had also become accustomed to Tsukino's idiosyncrasies, including her daily threats to his lucky items. So far, she had never gone further than to mock drop them. Then again, he had never given her reason to. He wasn't going to start today. It was simply too tiresome.

"Barbarian," he muttered and then left them in peace.

"Ah Tsukino-san, I appreciate your concern, but you didn't have to threaten his lucky item," said Momoi, staring after Midorima. "He takes those things pretty seriously."

"I know," explained Tsukino. "He used to snap at me if I so much as looked at his lucky item 'improperly'. But now he's gotten so used to it that it doesn't bother him anymore."

"So… in a way," said Momoi, biting the end of her pen, "you made him loosen up a bit."

Continuing as if she hadn't heard Momoi, Tsukino reflected aloud, "Next time I'm really going to have to break one of them."

Perspiration broke out on Momoi's brow. Unlike most people she knew, Tsukino was jarringly inappropriate, almost as if she was trying to shock people on purpose. Momoi wondered what kind of influences could have made her turn out that way. She was beginning to understand why Aomine, whose patience was generally at a baseline of zero, had pushed her into the canal. However, even if Tsukino was a bit on the unsettling end of the serial killer spectrum, Momoi could sense something uplifting in her manner, a natural easy charisma that made people want to listen to her, no matter how crass she was. This did not bode well if she really was a serial killer, of course.

"Um, Momoi-san."

"Hm?"

"Now what?"

"Well… there's still a bit of time till the end of practice. We could go watch if you'd like. I'm sure Kuroko-kun would appreciate the support."

A disturbing grin widened Tsukino's mouth and she leapt off the bench with newfound vigour.

"Yes, I'm sure Tetsuya would appreciate that."

The usual sound of sneakers met them as they switched from tiled to hardwood floors. She had gone in there fully intending to tease Kuroko to within an inch of his reputation, if such a transparent guy like him could even generate one, but when she entered the gym and saw the boys playing, she paused. It had been a while since she herself had played in an actual game, the last time being before she Oshiro fell out, and the nostalgia of watching one in full flux was... bile inducing. Then something made her pause.

One of the players had just blazed passed the opposing team's defence, including Murasakibara, a boy who should not have been allowed to be so tall, and scored a layup.

"Momoi-san's boyfriend is not as bad as I thought he would be," said Tsukino, eyes darting side to side as she followed his movements. His speed really was ridiculous.

Momoi's cheeks doubled in size and she blew out an angry raspberry. "How many times- childhood friends!"

"How long has he been playing?" asked Tsukino, trying to recall if she'd ever seen anyone their age quite as good. Even Ichiro her eldest brother, Teiko's former prodigy, had never displayed such raw, natural talent.

"Since before I can remember," Momoi said with a sigh, unable to keep the smile from her face. "Sometimes I think he has a basketball in his head instead of a brain."

"Hm."

"Is something wrong Tsukino-san."

The next words were spoken in such a bland voice that it seemed to negate all meaning in Tsukino's words. "It's just… I haven't been this turned on in a while."

"EH?!"

"She means switched on. She wants to play basketball."

"UWAH!?"

Momoi's heart was just about ready to burst. Kuroko had appeared between them, wiping the sweat off his brow. He was wheezing so hard that it looked like he wouldn't be able to hold out till the end of practice.

"W-what?" asked Momoi.

"Kame-san means that watching Aomine-kun has gotten her in the mood to play, although she phrases it poorly," he explained, as he was usually forced to do when it came to Tsukino. "Please don't take offence. She grew up surrounded by a lot of rowdy men so she's developed a very vulgar way of speaking."

"R-right…" Momoi stammered, still trying to recover from the mental image of Aomine and Tsukino in a passionate embrace.

"You make it sound like I grew up in a motorcycle gang or something," said Tsukino, unaware of Momoi's inner turmoil. "Anyway, Tetsuya, shouldn't you be over there with the rest of them."

She nodded at the three-on-three match taking place on one half of the court where Aomine's team was winning only by a small margin. It was proving challenging for them to get through the mighty purple tree's defence.

The sound of retching reached her ears and turning around she was horrified to find Kuroko kneeling in the corner puking his guts out. He had told her that he was finding it difficult to keep up during practice, but clearly he hadn't been telling her the full story. Approaching him, though remembering to maintain an appropriate distance to avoid any potential splatter, she knelt down and gently patted his back.

"Oh you had today's special for lunch," she remarked flatly, viewing the green lumps of curry swimming in yellow bile. "I've been meaning to try it. Any good?"

But Kuroko was too busy working on dessert to reply.

Momoi had run off to get a mop. A depressed aura radiated from Tsukino as she tried to weigh up what was worse; mopping up her best friend's fresh vomit or wiping up a stranger's dried urine.

"Want me to tell the coach to let you sit out the rest of practice?" Tsukino asked him when he finally stopped being sick. "Hey, Tetsuya?"

He shook his head, wiping his mouth with his t-shirt. "I'll be fine."

His breathing was still heavy and his skin an off-green colour, the kind you'd expect to see on a sea monster.

"The multi-coloured vomit spreading ever closer to my sneakers would beg to differ," said Tsukino, backing up.

"You can't interfere," he said firmly, shakily getting to his feet. Tsukino's hand automatically shot out to steady him, but he batted it away, not impolitely. "I have to do this myself."

Several of the players had stopped what they were doing to stare at them. Some of them, having never seen Kuroko play were probably thinking that he couldn't cut it, that he didn't belong in the first-string. Tsukino was about to swing round and issue a long and colourful statement about how they could all go to hell and take their disreputable mothers with them when Aomine gestured for a time out.

"You alright there, Tetsu?" Aomine asked, patting Kuroko on the back hard enough to make his cheeks blow up. To Kuroko's credit, he managed to get it under control. "Well either way, you gotta hurry up. Murasakibara says he'll crush you if you don't stop being pathetic."

That seemed to do the trick. Tsukino watched as Kuroko sprinted off without so much as a second glance, grabbing a water bottle on his way and taking a long swig before switching out with one of the other first years. Murasakibara, the exceptionally tall one with purple hair rested his large hand threateningly over Kuroko's head. All was right in the world again.

"Murasakibara's huge," said Tsukino, voice full of awe. "He's in our year, right? How tall is he?"

Aomine spurted a jet of water into his mouth from his water bottle before replying. "Ah? One-eighty-five or something."

"That means when he's older he'll probably be like… like two metres!"

"What, you got a thing for tall people?" he said, smirking down at her.

"Some might even classify it as an obsession. I prefer to think of it as a healthy interest."

There was some truth to her statement. It wasn't that she loved the horizontally privileged bastards exactly. In fact, she hated them, with a passion, and had the occasional urge to chop off their legs and sew them onto her torso.

Her eyes glinted as she watched Murasakibara.

"There's nothing healthy about you," said Aomine, observing her warily.

Granny Tsukino said that Kame had inherited her looks from her, however, since everyone in her family, including both sets of grandparents were amongst giant status, her odd growth was put down to a freak of nature and she was mocked mercilessly by Zinan. This naturally gave rise the green-eyed monster. The figurative one, not Midorima.

"I wonder if scientists are working on leg transplants," Tsukino speculated, trying to estimate the girth of Murasakibara's legs and whether they'd be compatible with her figure. "I mean they've practised head transplants on animals. If you can transplant a head then legs should be easy."

"Tch, idiot. It's more complicated than that. You don't just sew them on like with a doll."

It was eerie how well he could read her thoughts.

"Plus your body would probably just reject the transplant," he continued, "and then you'd die or end up as an amputee."

"You sure know a lot about this, Ao-chan."

"Kaa-chan likes to watch docu- Ao-chan?"

There were witnesses. He couldn't attack her with witnesses.

She took one wide side step closing the gap between them. "Hm, you're pretty tall for a first year too, Ao-chan," Tsukino said, tilting her chin up and batting her eyelids at him so that she looked like she was having an aneurism. "What are you… one-seven-five? One-eighty?"

Unfazed at this point by Tsukino's general inappropriateness, Aomine covered her face with his hand and shoved her away.

"Come back when you've grown a few cup sizes," he said, running back onto the court.

"Mazophile!"

He merely tossed the water bottle over his shoulder expecting her to catch it and give him an especially cool exit. He didn't count on her moving out of the way and allowing it to drop with a squelch into Kuroko's puddle of vomit.

Couldn't get angry with her for that, she reasoned smugly. It was his own stupid fault.

Unfortunately, the thing about poetic justice was that it was always timely.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Momoi talking with Nijimura. Then she saw Momoi point in her direction. She tried to remain very, very still as Nijimura followed Momoi's gaze and looked over at her. Too late. A flash of recognition sparked in his eyes. Nijimura started walking towards her. He started to grin. Walking faster now, faster, faster, breaking into a jog. Tsukino tried to duck back into the changing rooms, but it was too late.

"Hey, brat, almost didn't recognise you with that haircut," he said, voice unsettlingly pleasant as he threw his arm around her neck.

A whole year. A whole entire year at Teiko she had managed to avoid him.

Tsukino's deferent smile was a little feverish as she glanced around the gymnasium searching desperately for someone to come save her. Kuroko met her gaze, immediately gauged the dangerous situation she was in, and turned his back on her.

"So Momoi-san tells me you're the responsibility of the basketball club from now on," said Nijimura, twisting his arm so that she was almost in a headlock. "Good, good. Let's all do our best."

"I'm going to die."

"Slowly but surely."

As the members of the first-string poured out of the locker rooms at the end of practice, several snuck glances at the human-shaped lump lying face up on the floor outside of the equipment storeroom.

"Ah, is she dead?" asked Murasakibara, munching on a chocolate bar as Momoi ran over and attempted to wake it up.

"Oi Murasakibara, be careful where you spray your crumbs," said Midorima, glaring at him.

Murasakibara opened his mouth wider as he chewed, increasing the spray radius. "Huh? Did Mido-chin say something?"

"Anyone would be dead after being put through the captain's Punishment Trials," said Aomine. To her credit, she'd lasted a lot longer than Haizaki the first time he had done them.

"Works for me," said Haizaki, smirking lazily as he sauntered towards the exit. "Someone else can be the captain's whipping post for a while. See you losers later."

Akashi had remained silent, listening to the exchanges of his team. It wasn't until Kuroko appeared kneeling beside Momoi, who almost fainted in surprise, that the vice-captain spoke up.

"Does anyone know the nature of the relationship between Kuroko and Tsukino-san?" he asked.

"From what I've gathered, they're old friends," said Midorima.

"More like Tetsu's her keeper," Aomine said, clasping his hands behind his neck. "If it wasn't for that guy Tsukino probably woulda burned the school down by now."

"He seems concerned for her," said Akashi. He observed Kuroko as he took out his water bottle and unscrewed the cap. At first, it looked like Kuroko was going to make her take a sip from it, then he turned it upside down and poured it over her head. "…In his own way."

Tsukino jerked awake screaming. Kuroko stood up and offered her his hand. After glaring at him for a few moments, hair stuck to the sides of her face like a drowned dog, she took it, letting him haul her to her feet.

"You gotta have a pretty strong personality to deal with Tsukino," said Aomine.

"Mmm, like Sachin and Mine-chin."

"Oi, Murasakibara, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

It was clear to Akashi that an unpredictable variable like Tsukino Kame couldn't be left unchecked with their phantom sixth man. There was too much chaotic energy bottled up. For now, he would have to keep an eye on her.

"Let's go."

(1) In Japan they don't give out detention and practically never suspend students, and expulsion is pretty much like a unicorn. They believe every student has a right to an education and if they act like a delinquent then they're usually deemed a lost cause and ignored. The fact that her father thinks she's going to be suspended means that she's pushed her luck. A lot.