A/N: This chapter was a literal bitch to write. I have had the majority of this written for MONTHS but there was just one bit I couldn't get so in the end I just copped out. Apologies for the less than put together nature of this chapter. I hope you enjoy despite! Thanks for all reviews and additional support you have shown me, you literal angels you!

You Were Conceived Next to a Tortoise Enclosure

The Frog and the Scorpion

Tayama Hitoshi had never felt so alive. The very tips of his fingernails seemed to vibrate on some unheard-of frequency as he adjusted the lens and zoomed in close enough that the vent's slats weren't in the way of the shot.

If he had known Tsukino Kame's co-operation would have given him such an extraordinary shot, he wouldn't have hesitated to collaborate for so long. And to put herself at risk like this with no understanding of what it was she was up against or how to defend herself; he had definitely misjudged how selfless she was. And it had only cost him three weeks allowance upfront. A steal really. Once he'd developed the shots and got them to the Paranormal Society it would be well worth every penny.

There was a click and the shutter went off, capturing the silvery outline of the spectre hovering gently behind the gallant young woman as she took off her school slippers and put on her shoes. A third year almost passed through the spirit on his way to his locker but hesitated before making contact and sidestepped it, probably sensing the chill generated by its incorporeal form. Yes! thought Tayama, that was it! That explained why no one ever seemed to pass through it. They could sense the unsettling aura of the undead and their bodies instinctively rejected its proximity thus forcing them to swerve around it. It was the only explanation.

"Kame-san," said Kuroko, standing at least a meter behind her as stipulated. "I need to go."

"Ssh," hissed Tsukino without turning around. "Lower your voice. And try not to move your lips too much."

"How much longer do you need me?" asked Kuroko. "I'm supposed to be helping out at the library today."

"Just a couple more minutes," said Tsukino, eyes darting to the vent where Tayama was hiding. "Remember to keep shaking so it comes out super blurry."

Kuroko continued to wiggle as he followed her out to the front entrance, where they could see the onset of a storm. Clouds had converged on the school and rain was beginning to come down, glowing a burnt amber in the wintery sunset. Soon it would be pouring.

"Kame-san, I really need to go now," said Kuroko, ducking behind a nearby bin to appear menacing.

"Fine, fine," said Tsukino, opening a black umbrella. She had stolen it from Ichiro, and because Ichiro liked to seem intimidating at all times it was huge and was able to conceal momentarily both herself and Kuroko. "Same time tomorrow."

Kuroko fixed her with a look. It was a look she knew all too well. She called it Tetsuya's Resting Critic Face, largely because Mama Tsukino had caught her calling it several other colourful things and forbade her from using that kind of language under her roof.

"What? You're getting your cut," said Tsukino.

"I'm just worried that this might be one of your 'too far' moments," Kuroko explained.

"One of the one's that'll land me in jail?" Tsukino asked, genuinely confused. She'd read up on the law enough to know what she was doing wasn't technically illegal, at least not so far as anyone could prove.

"No, that's not it."

"Then what's the big deal?"

They stepped into the rain and joined the exodus of students shielded by a sea of black and navy umbrellas. By now Tayama would have withdrawn to his supply closet where he would eagerly begin the development process of what he was sure would be his best work to date.

"Just be careful," he said, before pulling his hood over his head and breaking off in another direction.

Tsukino watched him depart, standing quietly as bodies rushed past her. A part of her tried to decipher his warning, but it was facing significant resistance from another part, probably the part that already had, and it was distracting the first part with all the shiny things she could buy with Tayama's money. Maybe, depending on how long she could keep this up, she would even be able to afford a nice dinner at that place Kise was always pressing his face up against when they went shopping at Craft Craft Craft. This thought made her smile, and she twirled her umbrella cheerfully and continued her walk through the rain. The uncomfortable feelings weren't worth feeling anyway.

It was a fact known and celebrated throughout Teiko that victory is absolute and every teacher, coach, and student was driven by this creed. Even the cafeteria staff ensured you could eat off their floors, lucky for a certain demon who did this regularly. The other fact known throughout Teiko, the less lauded, unadorned fact, was that Teiko would not hesitate to cut off the limb that dragged.

A muted thud sounded as Oshiro's ace dropped to her knees in front of the basket. She had missed her sixth three-pointer and trembled with adrenaline and fear. One of her teammates moved to help her but froze when the captain herself strode over from her game and grabbed the ace from under the shoulder.

"Captain," she breathed, staring wide-eyed at Oshiro as she was lifted effortlessly to her feet. "Captain, I can still-"

"Go sit on the bench," said Oshiro, nodding to the frozen girl to come over and bear the other shoulder. They sat her down on the bench where a manager came armed with tape.

"But I-"

"We aren't discussing this," said Oshiro already walking back onto to the court. Between the bleachers she spied a small figure that had been mopping the same patch of floor for the last ten minutes.

"Should I tell her to go?" asked her vice-captain, glaring at the unwelcome janitor.

"I'll do it," said Oshiro.

It had been weeks since their usual practice space had been encumbered by renovations that seemed to have no end date in sight and Oshiro had gotten used to speaking with the boys' team about how she expected things to be. It wasn't hard to understand. They kept out of her way, she kept out of theirs. It seemed simple enough and for the most part things had been going smoothly. There was only one small problem.

The janitor wore black plastic overalls, goggles, and a face mask, and would have looked intimidating were it not for the pink wellington boots on its feet. Upon Oshiro's approach, it stopped pretending to mop and lifted off its goggles. Neither spoke, a mental sizing up taking place.

"I'm mopping," Tsukino eventually said, a weight to her words that made such a rudimentary sentence sound like an act of divine providence.

"You don't need to," said Oshiro. For a split second she considered reaching for the mop but, having seen the way Tsukino placed it back into the equipment shed, with sheer reverence, thought better of it.

"I'm a manager," said Tsukino. "Manager's help clean up."

"A manager, huh," said Oshiro, head tilting. "Is that what you are?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Tsukino, her knuckles white on the handle of the mop.

Oshiro had to applaud the show of self-restraint. A year ago, Tsukino would have been gnashing her teeth like a rabid dog.

"I don't want to fight, but if you insist on disrupting practice, I'll have to go and speak with whoever it is that has you on such a tight leash."

"You know what they call you right, Captain?"

"I know what they call you."

A smile split Tsukino's face open and Oshiro was reminded of those scenes in scary movies where the zombie's mouth would crawl with insects. Good thing Oshiro wasn't afraid of scary movies. It had been Tsukino that had crawled into bed with her after they'd tried to summon Hanako-san in the mirror. Later she would tell everyone at school that Oshiro couldn't stop crying, and Oshiro wouldn't correct them because who would even believe the weird quiet kid who didn't have anyone to talk to until Tsukino had taken pity on her and shackled her with her friendship.

Oshiro didn't realise her hand was curled around Tsukino's on the mop until her fingers were being pried away by Momoi.

"Sorry about this," said Momoi. Tsukino's face was ashen as she stared at the spot where Oshiro's hand had been. "Earlier one of our managers spilled paint here and Kame-chan takes a lot of pride-"

"Kuroko's training you well," interjected Oshiro.

"Excuse me," said Momoi.

"You'll know you've made it when you have her brothers on speed dial," explained Oshiro, eyes fixed on Tsukino. "She likes to pretend she hates them, but she'd be nothing without them."

Before Tsukino could retort, Momoi snatched the mop out of her hands and stepped between them. "Oh, is that so," said Momoi, the sweetness in her tone belied by the cold in her smile. "That's so interesting. But since it's nothing to do with basketball, I'm going to have to ask you to return to your practice. After all, you are a guest in our gymnasium and as the Captain you wouldn't want to overstep. Your Championship games are in a few weeks and I'd hate for you to lose the space."

Oshiro smiled coldly at Momoi. The pink-haired manager's reputation exceeded her and in any other situation Oshiro would have tried to recruit her, but as luck would have it Tsukino had gotten to her first. As she always did.

"Fine, but I urge you to have a similar conversation with your… manager."

When Oshiro was gone, Momoi let out a sigh of relief and turned to Tsukino. Watery admiration swam in the demon's eyes. Momoi recoiled. Shit, she'd left the spray bottle in the changing room.

There weren't many occasions for Aomine to be in the library and helping the Demon of the First-String Gymnasium look for reading material on architecture was definitely not one anyone had been expecting. Although help was a loose term since Tsukino had disappeared into the stacks a while ago with a list of books the length of her forearm while he had opted to remain behind to do important research on Horikita Mai's new photo book.

"Aomine-kun," came Kuroko's familiar voice beside his ear. Aomine decided he was going to get him a bell. "Could you please put your photo book away? You're making the librarian uncomfortable."

"I've hidden it though, behind this thing called…" Aomine bent the cover of the book he was using as a shield; "The Male Gaze."

"That just makes it worse," said Kuroko, taking the book from him.

"My bad," said Aomine, tucking the magazine in his bag and stretching his arms above his head. He nodded at the trolley of books behind Kuroko. "So, this is what you do when you're not playing basketball, huh?"

"I enjoy the peace and quiet," said Kuroko.

Both boys paused and looked into the darkness of the stacks as if expecting someone to start screaming.

"You shouldn't tempt fate like that," Aomine said finally, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"I like to live on the edge."

Anyone who had been with Tsukino long enough became quickly acquainted with the edge. The edge of reason, the edge of decency, the edge of one's seat. Literally, not metaphorically. Someone had recently sent her a viral video of a student pulling out an entire row of classmates' chairs before they sat down and Tsukino was aiming to break their record. Nijimura was enjoying his retirement a little too much.

"I'm glad you've started coming to practices again," said Kuroko.

"Well, you did stick that ice lolly down my back," said Aomine, scratching the back of his neck. "I figured you were serious since that's the kind of thing you do to Tsukino when she's being a brat."

"Ah, so Aomine-kun admits he was being a brat."

"Yeah- wait, what?"

"Momoi-san has been more cheerful since you started up again," said Kuroko, king of the artful subject change. "She seems a lot more like herself."

"Yeah, you weren't the only one giving me an earful," said Aomine, recalling the nightly phone calls consisting of Momoi blubbering about how she missed his basketball idiot smile.

Kuroko's eyes followed a young man with spiky brown hair as he slipped into the stacks on the far end.

"Excuse me," said Kuroko, disappearing almost instantly.

Aomine reached back into his bag and took out the photo book. A second later it was plucked from his hands by the needle like fingers of the librarian who replaced it with a book called 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.' When her back was turned he tried to shove it into Kuroko's trolley, but the librarian swooped down moments later and slammed it down in front of him again, this time with the book open to the front cover where his name had been pre-emptively stamped in the lending column. They remained locked in an uncomfortable staring match until Aomine gave up and flicked over to page one.

A pile of books that was taller than Tsukino's head wobbled in her arms as she lurched out of the stacks. Trying to keep them balanced was like trying to spin a plate on a stick and she was relieved when her hip bumped the table and they spilled across its surface. Aomine did not look up from his book about birdcages. She even clicked her fingers in front of his face, but he slapped her hand away and turned the page. Emerging from the stacks right behind her, Tayama Hitoshi looked absolutely blissful.

"Thanks again, Tsukino-san," said Tayama, his face shiny with sweat. "Thank you so, so much."

Tsukino placed her hands on his shoulders. "How many times, man," said Tsukino. "Call me Kame. We're in this together now."

"Right," said Tayama, beaming at her. "But still, you've been amazing, Kame. What you did for me back there? What you've been doing for me these last few weeks… well, it's changed my life. I feel like a new man."

"No, no, no," said Tsukino, shaking her head and smiling at him tenderly. "It's you. You've changed my life, H… H…"

"Hitoshi."

"Hitoshi!" exclaimed Tsukino, wiping a non-existent tear from her eye. "Hitoshi, you brilliant, wonderful man."

"You're too modest. The way you got down on your knees and cried out to the Lord-"

A resounding snap that echoed through the quiet library as Aomine shut the book in front of him and rose to his full height.

"Look," Aomine said sharply, fixing the two with a stern glare, "I know what this isn't, but I don't know what this is."

"I let him take pictures of me," said Tsukino. "For money."

"Again," said Aomine, looking at the ceiling and counting to five. "Try again, Tsukino."

"Maybe I can provide some clarification," said Tayama, handing Aomine what looked like a business card.

Aomine squinted at it. "What the hell is a paranormal photographer?"

"PP for short. Exactly what it says on the tin, Aomine-san," said Tayama, holding his lapels proudly. Since finding a fellow believer in Tsukino he had become bold. "I photograph the weird and unexplainable. The supernatural forces of Teiko Middle School can't hide from my lens. Tayama Hitoshi, at your service."

"Sounds like bullshit," said Aomine, unimpressed.

"A moment please," said Tayama, patting his blazer down. He took out a photograph and raised it to Aomine's eyeline. "You see, Kame has been haunted by this figure since her entry to Teiko and I've been documenting this phenomenon since almost the beginning. This is irrefutable proof that we are not the only inhabitants of this earthly plane."

Aomine tiredly met Tsukino's shark like grin. "Tayama-san, could you give us a second?"

"Sure, sure, no rush. Not everyone can adjust to news of this magnitude as quickly as Kame did. I'll be over in the occult books section if you need me, reading up on phantoms."

When Tayama had disappeared into the darkest, dingiest corner of the library, Aomine walked around the table and grabbed Tsukino by her cheeks.

"Ow, ow, ow," whimpered Tsukino, clawing at his hands. "What are you doing? The librarian's gonna kick us out."

"No, we're good. We're friends now," Aomine said in a dark voice. "Now tell me why the hell some guy thinks Kuroko is a freaking ghost, you evil shit head."

"Aw, are we doing pet names now, because I still think Small Forward is a winner-GAK! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll talk, I'll talk. Just not the hair. It took me an hour to put the pins in."

Aomine relaxed his hold on her up-do and fixed her with a hard stare.

"Do I really need to explain myself though? I mean by now, don't you kinda know what the deal is?"

Aomine licked his thumb and held it above her eye. "Talk, or I'll ruin your shimmery eyeshadow."

"Oh my god, fine!" exclaimed Tsukino, withdrawing like her namesake. "So, I had this whole plan to seduce this guy, Tayama H… H…"

"Hitoshi."

"Hitoshi. Then I would get the pictures he had been taking of me and shit on his bed, but it turns out he's not interested in me-"

Aomine pretended that the little flip in his stomach was really one of disgust.

"-So I ask him why he's been following me around school like a creepy little stalker if not to confess his undying devotion for me, and he takes me to his store cupboard thing. Shows me all these pictures of me and in a lot of those pictures there's this fuzzy thing that's always a little out of focus next to me and well, what else is there to say."

"That fuzzy thing is obviously Kuroko," said Aomine. "And you're extorting this guy."

"Legally it's not extortion," said Tsukino. "I checked. Sakata helped me."

"This is gonna end badly," groaned Aomine.

"It's closer to fraud really."

"Tsukino!"

"Come on, I know how to handle myself. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot who once froze her tongue to a store window because there was a life size cut out of Takeshi Kaneshiro in the display."

"I'm going to kill Tetsuya," hissed Tsukino. "And that's not my fault. It was his character from House of Flying Daggers. Have you seen his long hair? What did you expect me to do?"

"Huh? What's so good about guys with long hair?" said Aomine, biting his lower lip the moment the words left his mouth.

"I don't know, man," said Tsukino, heat rising to her cheeks. "It's just so soft, and silky."

"My hair's soft and silky," Aomine said before he could stop himself.

They both stared at each other, their faces pink with confusion. A loud cough interrupted them, and they looked at the librarian whose arms were crossed over her chest as she glared at them from her desk.

"The librarian disapproves of students canoodling in the library," said Kuroko, popping up behind them.

Aomine, who's face was now burning red, practically flung Tsukino off him. Grabbing his rucksack, and his copy of 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings', he stormed out.

"But we're not eating noodles," said Tsukino, and whimpered when Kuroko threw a dictionary at her head.

A dusky orange glow settled over the field as the sun sunk and the floodlights came on one after the other. From a distance the short, controlled pants of a young runner could be heard as she made her third lap around the track. Slowing as she approached the finish, she removed her earphones, picked up the towel she'd left on her bag and dabbed at her sweaty neck.

A curse sounded from the bushes as she placed her water bottle to her lips. She continued drinking, listening to the colourful language interspersed with snapping twigs and trampled dirt. If she were sensible, she would have simply collected her things, tugged on her hoodie and headed home. There was a science test tomorrow that she needed to revise for and she still needed to plan what she would do in the event that her ace's injury got worse.

It was hard, Oshiro realised with a tired scowl, to be sensible when it came to Tsukino.

Stepping into the dense undergrowth, she climbed through until she came out on the other side and found the girl wrapped in a long length of rope, one arm caught against the side of her face, the other bent behind her back.

"Well would you look at that," said Oshiro, taking another swig of her water, "caught red handed."

Tsukino, who was a veteran con-artist wasn't going to fall for that so easily. "Caught red handed doing what, huh?" she snapped, wriggling ineffectually in the dirt. "Huh?!"

Oshiro shrugged. It was worth a try. "If I had to guess, could you hypothetically be setting a trap for someone?"

"Hypothetically, it's none of your business," ground out Tsukino. "Don't you have subordinates to torment?"

"Nope."

Tsukino's pitiful grunts continued while Oshiro watched leisurely from the side, resisting the urge to take out her phone and snap a picture. It was the sort of crass thing Tsukino would do.

"You're not even going to ask for help, are you?" Oshiro asked evenly.

"Says the person who hasn't even offered," snapped Tsukino.

"And you'd accept an offer from me, would you?"

Their eyes locked and Oshiro felt something hot rise in her chest and if she weren't careful it would bloom like a flower made of fire. Why did she have to look at her like that? Like it was her fault.

"Got me there," relented Tsukino, her expression smoothing over, much to Oshiro's bewilderment. Her fingers, which had been wiggling towards her ankle caught onto the handle of a small pen knife tucked in her boots. Moments later she had cut herself free.

"Still got that thing, huh," said Oshiro, mentally smacking herself. What was she doing?

Tsukino, who was examining the much shorter lengths of rope, appeared to stiffen. This was the longest they'd been alone in each other's presence in almost two years. It was so unnatural if only because it had once been the most natural thing in the world. Two strangers alone in the middle of the woods with guns would have cut softer tension.

"Comes in handy," said Tsukino, collecting up the now useless rope in a bundle and shoving them into her bag.

"Stole it, right?" Oshiro's tone was stinging, and she realised with a touch of embarrassment that she was goading Tsukino.

"Yeah, from that mechanic."

"You don't even sound sorry."

"It was like five years ago," said Tsukino, shrugging.

"So what, there's a time limit on crime?"

The two girls stared at each other; Oshiro's chest was rising quickly while Tsukino appeared strangely composed.

"Something you wanna say to me, Oshiro?" asked Tsukino.

"You know what," said Oshiro, taking a sudden uncertain step forwards, "there is."

Tsukino stared expectantly at the basketball captain and something, something that had been festering since probably the first day that little gap-toothed girl had grinned down upon her and took her hand without her permission, leeched out of her.

"Whatever you're doing," Oshiro said in an emotionless voice that conveyed a cold type of anger shouting wouldn't have done justice, "with the basketball team and your little friend in the swim club, it's all going to end badly. It always does with you. They're going to see you for what you really are. You can dress it up however you like, you can wear all that makeup, but it's not gonna change who you are."

For a moment, Tsukino looked like she was about to argue, but then she glanced down at her bag crammed full of ropes.

"You know I'm right."

"You good?" asked Tsukino.

"What?"

"You got that off your chest, yeah?" asked Tsukino.

Oshiro stared at her.

"Cool."

Then Tsukino hooked her bag over her shoulder and left.

Oshiro remained in the clearing, wondering what had come over her. The last time she had confronted Tsukino Kame, she had gone home and smashed all of her framed photos of them. She knew it was stupid and yet here she was again, that same empty feeling in her chest, of guilt where there should have been satisfaction.

Well, she had been right, hadn't she? Going by the rope and all the lurking around, some poor fool was probably about to discover what Oshiro had taken years to figure out.

No longer a lump in her throat but a veritable boulder, Tsukino felt unease permeate her as she waited by the tree that evening. The sun had long since set and the only light came from the excess of the track floodlights, basking her in a blueish tinge.

Ten minutes left until Tayama showed up and then it would begin.

From a distance, Kira and Nakadan were operating the haunted whisperings and wails that would come from the small Bluetooth speakers Tsukino had stolen from her brothers' bedroom and hidden along the pathway. At the end of the walk, dressed in his fortune teller robes, Midorima, who had been recruited on the pretence of taking revenge on the underwear thief, sat at a round table atop which sat a crystal ball. Meanwhile Sakata had climbed up an adjacent tree and, after being reminded several times not to dislodge any beehives, was in charge of ensuring the ghostly apparition, a translucent silvery sheet, dropped at just the right moment during the seance. And finally, lurking amongst the bushes, was the final act, faintly coated in white luminescent dust, the pièce de resistance: Kuroko.

[19:05] Honey Bunny: i just saw Kira and Nakadan climb onto the equipment shed. tf are you doing now

[19:25] You: creating a masterpiece

As Tsukino typed, she realised with a sinking feeling that the usual pride she felt in her deviousness was absent.

[19:25] Honey Bunny: this is gonna end badly

[19:25] Honey Bunny: i can already see u getting dragged by the leg onto the court

[19:26] Honey Bunny: by murasakibara

[19:26] Honey Bunny: and probably kise

[19:26] Honey Bunny: you're probably the reason akashi snaps and kill us all

[19:27] Honey Bunny: oi, Tsukino, reply

[19:29] You: do you think I'm a bad person?

Despite her phone buzzing with a response, she could not take it out. It looked like Tayama had arrived and texting didn't exactly lend itself to the aesthetic she was trying to create here.

"Wait, wait, who's that?" asked Tsukino, her body going cold as another boy stepped out behind Tayama.

"This," said Tayama, looking positively chuffed, "is Sone Yuu. He's the president of the local chapter's paranormal society."

"The what?" exclaimed Tsukino.

Sone Yuu stepped forward, flashing her his card. It said President of the 18 and Under Paranormal Society: Tokyo Chapter, Sone Yuu, and had what looked like a residential address printed at the bottom.

"Tokyo, huh," said Tsukino, gulping. "How many members do you have?"

Sone and Tayama exchanged glances.

"Upwards of ten," Tayama said, his chest inflating as he failed to mention that this number was eleven.

"We've been very impressed by Tayama-kun's work," said Sone. "After he told me how you've been helping him hunt down the elusive phantom man that's been haunting you, I knew I just had to see it for myself."

"Oh," said Tsukino, the boulder in her throat swelling to the size of a small asteroid. "Right."

"And of course, since Tayama is up for ascension-"

"Ascension?"

"Yes, it's a rite of passage that only our most prolific members can undergo," explained Sone, a glow in his face. "I still remember my own last year. My mother was so proud that she cried."

"Oh," said Tsukino, eyes wide and watery with the strain as she stopped herself blurting out why his mother was really moved to tears.

"In any case, Tayama-kun's work has meant that he has been put on the fast track for ascension. Today will decide whether or not he is truly worthy."

"Of course, with you by my side, Kame, there's no doubt about it, right?" said Tayama, grinning from ear to ear as he stared admiringly at Sone.

"R-right," said Tsukino, having lost the ability to use polysyllabic words. "This way," she said, stiffly turning and leading them down the pathway.

"May I ask, Tsukino-san," said Sone, "have you been touched by the paranormal before."

"Uh-"

"I mean to say," said Sone. "Is this your first time being haunted?"

"Uh, yeah," said Tsukino. "Well, when I was little, my brothers told me that we had a sister before I came along and they buried her body in the boiler cupboard so I used to think the noises that came out of it were her screams."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," said Sone.

"Oh no, don't worry," said Tsukino, waving it off. "I didn't actually have a sister. They just made her up to scare me."

"Yes, that's why I'm sorry," said Sone. "They sound terribly cruel."

Chest puffing with validation, Tsukino nodded her head in vigorous agreement.

"To manipulate the very real horror of the paranormal for a prank," said Sone, sounding outraged. "Please, don't take offence when I say this, but your brothers are the worst of the worst."

"O-oh," said Tsukino, her chest deflating again. "I mean, when you look back at it, it is kinda funny-"

"You need not defend them, Tsukino-san," said Sone, gripping his chest. "We as a paranormal society are constantly inundated with false reports from people looking to take advantage of us. I feel your pain."

"Uh-huh."

"Thankfully, once I publish my paper in our newsletter," said Tayama, pride glowing from his voice, "they'll think twice before messing with us again. Are you okay, Kame? You're shaking."

"Can't you hear it, Tayama-kun," said Sone, looking around the wooded pathway, mesmerised by the eerie noises filling the pathway at carefully placed intervals. "Tsukino-san is obviously shaking because she is highly attuned to the phantom. We have entered amongst the spirits."

In a way they had. They had entered amongst the spirits of old haunted house soundtracks Tsukino had downloaded onto her phone. Both boys looked expectantly at the girl who had somehow never quite felt her height until just then.

And then all hell broke loose.

I would like to tell you that the usual hijinks that usually pervade this story were also in store for our heroes on this occasion. Alas, in regard to this incident, pitiful is the only word that springs to mind. Perhaps our protagonist had failed the calculate all the risks that could go into such a massive operation. Perhaps her heart was simply not in it. Perhaps she had doomed herself the moment she had decided to learn Tayama Hitoshi's name. In other words, the operation had been a spectacular failure.

"I'm sorry Tayama-kun," Sone said sadly, placing a hand on the trembling boy's shoulder. "With the information coming to light there is nothing left to do but cancel your ascension. We'll also have no choice but to pull your article in the newsletter."

Six feet away, the false ghost was towelling off the luminescent paint while a young girl with dark hair folded up a white sheet and a tall boy wearing fortune teller robes carefully inspected his crystal ball for dings. In the quiet aftermath of their shame, they slunk away without a word to anyone.

"No, I-I completely understand," said Tayama, his lips twisted between his teeth. "I apologise once again-"

"You have nothing to apologise for," said Sone, his eyes narrowing on the demon of the first string, who had opted to stay behind despite Kuroko's meaningful stare. "It is not the first, and it will not be the last, people like her try to take advantage of us. She should be ashamed."

The words 'he deserved it' rose in Tsukino's throat on reflex, but she pressed her lips together and swallowed the accompanying bile.

Adjusting his collar and patting down his oil slicked hair, Sone bowed to the frozen Tayama, shot Tsukino one last withering glare, and made his exit.

"Look, Tayama," said Tsukino, inching closer so that she was in front of him. "I wasn't- It wasn't meant to go so far-"

"Kame, it's okay," muttered Tayama, taking his classes off and cleaning them on his jumper. She couldn't help but notice that he hadn't looked at her once since the phantom's true identity had been revealed. She should have just kept her damned mouth shut.

"Look," said Tsukino, "I've still got most of the money you gave me and-and I'll pay you back the rest. I didn't know that this was such a big deal to you- I just thought you were- I just thought-"

"Really, Kame, I'm not mad."

"Oh right," said Tsukino bitterly, "you're just disappointed."

"Yeah, I am disappointed," said Tayama, smiling weakly. Her throat felt tight. "I'm disappointed in myself. I've been watching you for almost two years now. I should have known better."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you ever heard of the story of the Scorpion and the Frog?" asked Tayama.

"Issat the one where they-"

"It's a fable," Tayama said quickly, before Tsukino could give his therapist another reason to charge him for added time. At Tsukino's blank look he explained. "A story that's supposed to teach children certain moral lesson. How to live their lives right."

"Never heard of it."

"The story is about a scorpion that wants to cross a river, but scorpions can't swim," began Tayama, still cleaning his glasses. "Near the bank it spots a frog lying peacefully on a lily pad and asks the frog to carry it across. Understandably, the frog is reluctant. The scorpion, it fears, will sting him. But the scorpion points out that if it did that, they would both drown. Satisfied by this logic, the frog lets him climb on his back and he begins to swim across. Halfway through their journey, the scorpion stings the frog."

"What the hell!" exclaimed Tsukino, who had become heavily invested in the tale.

"The frog is confused. In its last moments, it asks the scorpion why it stung it despite knowing that it too would die, to which the scorpion replies 'I couldn't help it. It's in my nature.'"

Tayama let that marinate for a moment. Tsukino's crumpled brow smoothed to realisation.

"I'm the scorpion," said Tsukino.

"And I'm the frog," said Tayama, shrugging.

And then he left.

A sheepish Oshiro emerged from the bushes in which she had been lurking conspicuously for the last few minutes. Tsukino did not look surprised. She had on multiple occasions seen the crop of orange hair poking out of the bushes throughout the entire fiasco. Oshiro had never been very good at stealth. It was one of the reasons they had always fought. Tsukino thought she was doing it on purpose and Oshiro insisted that she had never cared enough about Tsukino's bullshit for sabotage.

"Do you think it's possible for someone like me," said Tsukino, staring ahead at the place where Tayama had exited, "to not suck so much?"

"We've known each other almost our whole lives," said Oshiro, sighing. "I don't think I've ever seen you feel bad about something before tonight. So… I guess? Maybe?"

As Oshiro hooked her bag over her shoulder and moved past her, Tsukino stared at the back of her head, mouth half open with an unspoken declaration. Patting down her pride, she summoned the words that had been sitting stagnant in her chest for the last two years.

"I felt bad about us."

A bitter smile touched Oshiro's lips. She zipped up her hoodie and shrugged, "Yeah. So did I."

And then she too left.

Everyone else had gone home by the time Tsukino gathered up the energy to move from the spot she had been rooted to for the last twenty minutes. As she neared the front gates, she noticed a tall figure leaning against them. Aomine didn't jump out and demand to know where she'd been, nor did he ask about the elaborate failed prank she had played. Instead, he simply slipped into step with her.

It wasn't until they were on her street that he broke the silence. The reverie of guilt, which she had been swimming in for the past hour had waterlogged her ears and it took her a second to realise they had stopped and that he was speaking.

"Tsukino. Hey, Tsukino," said Aomine. He bent his knees to get close to her eye line. Even with her mediocre growth spurt he still dwarfed her.

She screwed up her mouth and stared fixedly at her feet.

This was new, thought Aomine. That expression on her face was very new and instinctively he hated it.

"What happened?" said Aomine, trying to make eye contact through sheer will alone. Her feet shuffled but her obstinance continued. He sighed. "C'mon, tell me."

She mumbled something under her breath and Aomine cupped his hand around an ear encouragingly.

"I took it too far," she said a little louder.

"Took it too far?"

"I- Y'know! I did what I always do," spluttered Tsukino, raising her hand. "I messed with someone for fun and now they hate me. Which makes sense. 'Cos I suck."

Two large hands grabbed hold of her face and gently manoeuvred it upwards. She screwed her eyes shut so that they matched her mouth.

"Hey, Tsukino," Aomine said in a low, threatening voice. "Open your stupid eyes."

She did not comply.

"Open your eyes or I'll," and the words came to him like a lightning bolt through the heart, "shit on your blanket."

Her eyes snapped open in horror.

"You don't suck," he said sternly. "And you're not a bad person."

Tsukino blinked, the horror dissipating into confusion. Then she remembered the text she'd sent him.

"You're a good person," said Aomine, scowling, "who does sucky things sometimes."

"You're just saying that 'cos-"

"Yeah, I'm just saying that 'because I'm in love with you'," Aomine grumbled, "and 'that's what good boyfriends do' right? But ignore that shit for a second. I, Aomine Daiki, the greatest human being on this planet-"

Her lip quirked in disgust.

"-Think you're a good person."

Normally, by this point, a shark toothed grin would have broken out on Tsukino's face and all would be right again. Instead, the corners of her mouth barely quirked and she shrugged her shoulders as if to shrug his kindness off like a coat that fit too loose.

"Anyway," she said, removing her face from his hands and punching him lightly in the shoulder. "Thanks for walking me home."

She made to leave but Aomine grabbed her by the scuff of her collar. Before she knew what was happening, her face was smushed against a warm chest that seemed to span eternity while two boa constrictor-like arms squeezed her close.

And she did as she had done back at the fountain when he'd first hugged her. She closed her eyes and hugged him back.

Author's Note:

Real feelings territory is sadly why it has taken me such an extraordinarily long time to get this chapter done and honestly I don't think I did it justice. I decided in the end to just shove it out here cos otherwise I'd never publish it. I do want to continue with the other chapters. I have planned out the next five or so chapters and am already thinking about the canon storyline, which luckily seems like a lot of fun in my head right now. WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE EMOTIONS, HUH?

Anyway thanks for sticking with me as long as you have. I hope you and your loved ones are as safe as possible, and I hope that if you're struggling or just not having a great time that this helped just a little. UK is careening towards disaster, so if any of my fellow Brits are out there wringing their hair, I'm right there with ya!