Edited 11..02.2021


An Interlude of Girly Proportions

"You've befriended Kise-kun," was the first thing Hana heard as she sat down in her math class. She hadn't even noticed Kuroko when she came in; but there he was, scaring the shit out of her, yet again.

"Have you ever been punched before?" Hana offered grumpily, "Because it's going to happen sooner or later."

"I have not, and I would prefer not to be," Her blue headed friend responded blankly. Hana gave him a sharp glance, but didn't reply any further. After the interesting meeting during lunch and subsequent mental dilemma, her emotions felt unsteady. Kuroko eyed her at the continued silence, "I was unaware you and Midorima-kun were also friends."

"We aren't," she deflected as she pulled her beat-up textbook out of the confines of her backpack, "What gave you that idea?"

Blue eyes flicked down to the button attached to her shirt then back to her. Hana didn't need his answer to be vocalized, the meaning perfectly clear. But what remained unclear, was how he knew the pin itself was from Midorima. She questioned, "What makes you think this came from him?"

"He said he was going to give it to you—"

"You guys talk about me?"

"Please don't interrupt, Imamura-chan," Kuroko chastised, "But yes, you've been the subject of a few morning practices. Today's in particular."

Hana was stumped. Her mind replayed that sentence on a loop as she tried to understand the implications. So far, the outlook wasn't favorable. A quick daydream rooted itself in her head:

"Have you gathered the information asked for?" A shadow questioned in the darkest corner of the room.

"Yes, sir. Our agents have befriended the target and are in the middle of the infiltration process," a similar shadow answered as a quick shine flashed across their glasses.

"Good. Agent Ghost?"

"I've discovered the targets weak spots. Target remains easily startled and unaware of their surroundings," answered the figure in front of the window. Another figure beside it let out a happy chuckle at their words.

"It was almost too easy, Boss-cchi! They didn't even put up a fight when I confronted them."

A sinister smile flashed across the bosses face as he turned around, "Perfect, all is going as planned. Agent Four? Prepare to eliminate the subject."

An annoyed sigh from the smaller of the two figures in the doorway, "On it. Could have given me something more challenging though."

The larger of the figures stopped their chewing to voice an opinion, "Just crush them. I'm bored of this."

"It will all be over soon," the boss stated, and his eyes flicked forward to stare straight ahead. Her mind was assaulted with red as the dark room faded.

"— Imamura-chan?"

Hana blinked back into focus. Green eyes moved toward Kuroko in a daze. His own stared back at her, showing a minute amount of concern. Hana cleared her throat awkwardly and tried to shake the memories of the daydream away, "Yes? Did you say something, Kuroko-kun?"

"You zoned out after I mentioned talking about you this morning. I hope I didn't upset you?"

"Oh no," she anxiously denied, laughing a bit to remove the lingering paranoia, "I just got lost in my thoughts for a minute. Er… You guys don't practice with the lights off, right?"

The subtle look Kuroko shot her made her feel like the dumbest person on earth, but he remained polite, "I believe that would be impossible."

Hana nodded with another forced laugh, "Sorry, stupid question."

Kuroko blinked at her, face blank. Hana could feel his eyes doing that strange stare-into-your-soul thing and she shivered. The blue haired boy furrowed his brows and Hana started to sweat. His lips turned down into a tiny frown and in turn, Hana felt her soul leave her body. Finally, he sighed before turning away, letting Hana release her captured breath. A few silent seconds passed.

"You're very paranoid, Imamura-chan."

"Stop reading my mind!"

"Your thoughts are too loud."

"—That's not even possible."

xXxXx

"41 out of 50! You're definitely improving, Uoya-kun!" Hana cheered from the sideline during her team's practice. Uoya offered her a smug grin before racing after the rebounding ball.

Practice preceded normally, as usual. Kitano was back in the game after recovering from his injury and his loud laughter and taunts were received with varying levels of welcome. Uoya was still working on his accuracy along with two other first years. Futabatei was leading the second and third years through some new drills for the next upcoming game. On the sidelines, coach was fiddling around with his phone, Saiki-san was studying for his chemistry exam, and Hana was enjoying the benefits of her lucky item.

She couldn't deny the power of Oha-Asa anymore. First, her math teacher agreed to let her retake the test, then she'd found some of her lost money in the recesses of her bag, and finally when she'd ordered a drink out of the vending machine after class, it had gifted her with not one, but two delicious beverages! It was safe to say that Midorima was now off her shit list.

"You look happy, Imamura-san," her coach interrupted her contentment. He was standing beside her, phone in hand but a curious look dominated his wrinkled face.

Hana scowled minutely; he didn't have to sound so surprised, "I guess so, Matsunaga-sensei. Today's been alright," she responded neutrally, but her face was shadowed by a frown. I feel like he's digging for something.

"Interesting," he hummed as he texted, "Mind helping the team with drills?"

Hana groaned dramatically. There it is. Coach spared her a quick smile, yet Hana could tell he was serious in his order. She responded by offering a pout, "What do you want me to do?"

"Just keep the balls in control. The shooting practice seems to be getting a bit wild."

Well, that was an understatement. If Hana didn't know better, she'd have said the three first years were missing their shots on purpose. Uoya was still taking things seriously, but the two others were half heartily throwing the ball at the hoop causing it to bounce in erratic patterns all over the court. Catching Hana's annoyed grimace, Coach continued, "Feel free to use any means necessary."

She shot him a look, "… Any means?"

"No blood, please," he amended.

"I'm on it, coach," Hana had so many plans. So many.

With a skip to her step, she made her way over to the three first years. Uoya stopped automatically, warily eyeing Hana and the observing coach. The other two only gave her a dismissive glance before continuing to massacre the hoop. Clearly, they had been free of her wrath for too long. Taking a long sip of her soda, Hana purred out, "Whatcha doing guys?"

Uoya whispered a small curse at her tone, but the other two remained dense and oblivious. The blonde one, Yanagawa-san, even smiled at her. The other one, Sugimura-san, answered, "Uh, practicing?"

"… Really," her formerly sweet tone was now drenched in sarcasm, "Looks to me like you're just screwing around."

"Hana-chaaaaan," Uoya whined out, "Don't do this."

Yanagawa-san had gone silent at her rebuke, but the other one seemed to take offense. He took a step toward her and growled, "Like you have room to talk. You just sit on your ass all practice. Give us a break."

Oh, boy. That was the wrong thing to say.

"Give you a break? Hell no, especially not after that statement. I sit on my ass, you say?" Hana advanced forward, "Who makes your schedule, who studies the other teams, who plans your drills, who brings you water, who does your goddamn laundry?"

Sugimura scoffed, "Fat load of good that did us. If we hadn't had help last weekend we would have been slaughtered."

"That is no way to talk to your seniors, brat. And did it ever occur to your microscopic brain," she jabbed a finger at his large forehead, "That if little brats like you actually practiced, we wouldn't have had that problem!"

"Okay, okay, let's all calm down…" Uoya started looking for his fellow sixth year, but Yanagawa had left the premise with the excuse of a bathroom break. Unbeknownst to the bickering group, Coach had put down the phone and was watching the scene with a smirk.

"Yeah, listen to your bitch, Manager-chan," Sugimura smirked.

"… You idiot," Uoya deadpanned.

"Uoya-kun is not my bitch," Hana hissed and came to stand face to chest with the arrogant brat, "But if you don't shut your mouth, I'll turn you into one."

"You can't even reach my face! What're you go—" he choked off as Hana fisted the front of his jersey and twisted. The fabric pulled against his skin, making him stumble as she yanked him toward her.

Pulling the sixth year down to her face, Hana smiled sadistically, "Oh look at that! We're the same height now."

Sugimura snarled at her, but Hana just kept smiling. The skin around his neck grew red with irritation. Refusing to admit to his defeat, he growled, "Let me up."

"No can do, Sugimura-san!" She chirped, "You are going to listen to me, you ungrateful little shit. I'll let you go afterwards, is that clear?"

"Crystal," he snapped at her. Hana smirked at his frustration before poking a sharp fingernail into his chest, causing his grimace to twist into a wince.

"Good," she purred, "I'm going to let you go and you're going to actually practice. You shoot that ball as best as you can; because I will be watching you."

"I've got it!" Sugimura responded, "Now let me go!"

Hana released him unexpectedly, causing the sixth year to stumble back and put a hand to his aching throat. Sugimura shot her a glare before returning to his position and shooting the ball as hard as he could. The ball slammed into the backboard, but instead of bouncing off the hoop like it had been, it went straight through the net. It was silent for a beat and Hana could swear she heard a cricket singing.

Another second passed before Sugimura gaped, "…Wah?"

"Weren't expecting that, huh?" Hana pondered loud enough for both boys to hear. She let a small smirk tug at her lip, "You play best when you're under pressure or, as we've learned, angry."

"I hadn't been able to do that all day!" Sugimura was still gaping, pointing at the hoop with a disbelieving finger.

"You didn't have the right conditions. Now you do," Hana's tiny smirk blew into a full-out grin at Sugimura's continued astonishment. The sixth year looked away from the hoop to stare at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Understanding the situation, Uoya drug a heavy hand down his face. His voice was exhausted when he spoke, "Next time, could you please inform us when you plan something like this."

Hana gave him an innocent look, "Plan what?"

A beat. Uoya stared at her, "You did plan that, right?"

"I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about, Uoya-kun," she daintily took a sip of her drink making Uoya groan. Behind him, Sugimura was still gaping, and Hana momentarily worried it would be a permanent look on the cute sixth year. Glancing back to Uoya, she caught the sight of his face paling at something behind her.

"Hey! Look out guys!" Hana recognized the yell as Kitano's.

Before any of their little group could respond, an extremely hard object slammed into the back of Hana's head. At the exact second the pain registered, she saw an orange ball rolling away from her. A beat of silence passed before Hana registered the now soaking wet sensation seeping across her shirt. A slow look downward proved that, yes, that was her delicious soda now spreading across her already stained shirt.

Her voice came out in a threatening rasp, "Kitano."

"It was not me!" Kitano stood a safe distance away, hands waving frantically as he denied the claim.

"Kitano," Hana raised her voice, ordering the boy to come closer. He refused and did the exact opposite by scooting further away. Her ire faltered— No one would look in her direction, their eyes steadfastly attached to the ceiling.

"Uhm… Hana-chan? Maybe you should go change?" Uoya prodded as he eyed the new transparency of his friend's shirt.

Hana had her lips pulled back in a snarl and was preparing to launch another verbal attack when a sharp whistle cut everyone off. Coach had come to stand near the grouping and both of his grey eyebrows were raised at the spectacle in front of him. He cleared his throat before speaking, "I believe Uoya-san is right. Practice is about over and, Imamura-san? Please go ahead and change."

Hana snapped her head to Matsunaga-sensei, mouth opened and ready to fire off a response. Ignoring his manager's ire, Coach looked to the ceiling in exasperation and gestured a tired hand at Hana's body. Someone in the background gulped.

Blinking, Hana looked down. She was greeted by her stained shirt, but on closer expectation she could see unwelcomed amounts of pink appearing in suggestive regions. Oh my god. Kitano!

Matsunaga-sensei watched his pupil dart out of the gym in resignation, letting out a forlorn sigh, "Why couldn't I have a normal team?"

xXx

"Stupid, Kitano. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!" Hana huffed as she scrubbed at her poor shirt. The purple soda had completely and utterly ruined it. Not to mention the coffee from earlier— she looked like a disgusting, technicolor mess. She huffed again, "Stupid."

As she scrubbed, she caught sight of the still pristine Hello Kitty pin taped to her shirt. She scowled. Clearly, the item possessed lucky powers, but they focused more so on itself then her wellbeing. Giving the inanimate object another scathing glare, Hana ripped it from her shirt and placed it on the washing machine.

She'd put it back on later. If she could ever find a clean freaking shirt.

"Kise and Kitano are going down," she vowed. She hadn't forgotten how Kise had taken her earlier change of shirt, thus leaving her with this mess covering her. When her hand began to ache, she stared at the soapy mess, begging for it to magically clean itself, but the fates ignored her plea.

"Well, this is going absolutely nowhere," she muttered to herself, "Might as well take it off."

Figuring she'd wait until everyone cleared out to go rummage through the boy's lockers to find a replacement, Hana stripped the sticky shirt off. Giving it one last disgusted grimace, she tossed it into the sink. She'd take care of it tomorrow. Now, to deal with the fact she was standing awkwardly in the middle of the club's laundry room half-naked.

"… I feel like the star of a bad porno."

Well, as long as no one came in she'd be okay. Walking over to the washing machine, Hana hauled herself up and sat on it. What to do now? She should have grabbed her bag, but of course she'd mucked up and forgot it. Left to entertain herself, Hana looked around the room for inspiration. The laundry room was painfully empty except for a large pile of sweaty jerseys.

She scoffed, "Screw that. That's Kitano's job now."

Maybe a nap? Yeah, that'd be nice. Hana smiled at her ingenious idea and curled her legs up to her chest. Resting her head against the wall behind her and closing her eyes, Hana prepared to drift off.

She was out in seconds.

"Wah!" a shrill voice screeched out. Hana woke with a start, arms and legs flailing around defensively. Sleepy green eyes landed on a shocked girl standing in the doorway with arms full of laundry. Recovering from her shock, Momoi realized she recognized the person, "Imamura-chan?"

Hana rubbed a tired hand over her eyes, "Momoi-san?"

"What are doing?" Momoi questioned, "Where's your shirt!"

"… my shirt?" Hana yawned out. Taking inventory of herself and the new person in the room, Hana realized that, yes, she was still half-naked. With Momoi-san. In the same room. That bad porno vibe just went up a notch.

Momoi blinked at her, incredulous, "What're you doing here, Imamura-chan? Your practice was out hours ago!"

"Hours ago?" She frowned as her brain tried to calculate, "… What time is it?"

"Six," Momoi answered as she looked away from the other manager to shake off her shock. Pushing her pile of laundry further into the room and dropping it beside Hana's team laundry, she glanced over her shoulder at Hana, "You haven't told me why you're here yet."

"I fell asleep," Hana replied as she forced herself to sit up. With a start, she noticed that she was still sitting on top of the washing machine. It was a wonder she hadn't fallen off.

"Where's your shirt?" Momoi continued as she sorted the laundry out.

"My shirt…" Hana tried to remember, "Oh yeah! Damn. It got ruined during practice and I didn't have another. I took a nap to pass the time so I could go out and steal one of the guys'."

Unbeknownst to Hana, Momoi scrunched her nose up. Borrowing one of her teammate's shirts sounded disgusting, unless it was maybe Testu-kun's. She turned back around, this time with her arms loaded with a smaller pile of laundry, "I need to put these in there, would you mind?"

"Ah, no. Sorry," Hana rubbed the back of her head sheepishly before jumping off the washing machine. Well, it would technically be classified as a jump, but due to the sleep clinging to her eyes, Hana stumbled on the landing and tripped. She flopped onto the floor with a pained moan, "This is not my day."

As she shoved the clothes into the vacated machine, Momoi let out a surprised giggle. Peeking over her shoulder again, "You okay down there?"

"Peachy keen," Hana responded before she covered her eyes with her palms and started to laugh. She tried to control it but couldn't— the resulting noise sounding embarrassingly like a choking cat. In return, Momoi's giggles grew louder until she finally had to stop doing the laundry in order to calm down.

"Uhm," Momoi tried to control her laughter, grin stretching across her cheeks, "Would you like to borrow a shirt? I keep a change in my locker. It might not fit, but I wouldn't want to wear a sweaty jersey home."

"That would be great," Hana offered from the floor. She hoped she sounded as grateful as she felt, because honestly, wearing the boys' clothing sounded nasty. She peered up at the first-string manager from the ground and could almost see a bright halo surrounding her head. Forget every mean thing I said about her, Momoi-san is obviously an angel of god.

"I'll go get it when I'm done with this," Momoi smiled at her. Hana grunted in acknowledgement before perching her chin on her now bent knees. As the washing machine door banged shut, Momoi turned around and tsk'd at her, "Don't go to sleep on the floor, Imamura-chan!"

Hana sighed, "… Fine."

"I'm going to go get that shirt now; if you're not up by then I'm not giving it to you!" Momoi informed her as she left. Hana's groan went ignored as she slammed the laundry room door.

Begrudgingly, Hana forced herself to stand up and wait by the dryer for her companion to return. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she awkwardly crossed them over her bra-clad chest. Not to long later, sleepiness crept back up on her. Her eyes had just begun to slip shut when the door slammed open again, but this time with a much less cheerful Momoi.

Hana could only hear a few words that she was speaking, but the few she did were tainted in aggravation, "Aomine-kun's such a jerk. Can't believe he— ugh!"

The fellow manager eyes were fiery as they glared down at her cellphone. Without sparing Hana a glance as she typed, Momoi gently tossed a bundle of clothes at her. Her brow furrowed as Momoi's sharp fingernails clacked against the glass screen of the smartphone.

Hana caught the pile of clothes easily enough, but her eyes stayed trained on the fuming manager. She spoke cautiously, "Thank's Momoi-san. I owe you one."

"Huh?" Momoi blinked up at her, ignoring her phone for a brief second. A smile bloomed across her pretty face, "Oh it's no problem, Imamura-chan! Us girls have to help each other out, right?"

"Right," Hana nodded, twisting the clothes between her hands like a lifeline, "But seriously, I owe you. Not too sure how I'd stand up to you, but if you need help with homework or something I'm your girl."

Momoi giggled again, but it was cut short as her phone tinged. Flipping it open aggressively, Momoi scowled down at whatever she saw. Her voice faded into discouraged mumbles, "Couldn't even tell me in person— Jerk— Aomine-kun—"

"Everything okay, Momoi-san?" Hana questioned. It wouldn't be polite to leave her hanging after all the help she'd done. Besides, Momoi's puppy face was something else. Not even the coldest heart could withstand it.

"I guess," Momoi pouted minutely, "It's just Aomine-kun. I was supposed to go shopping with him tonight, but he bailed on me."

Oh god, that face. Hana couldn't take it. One day her weakness for sad faces was going to get her in trouble because she promptly blurted, "Hey, I said I owed you, right? I need a new shirt anyway."

The offer hung in the air awkwardly before Momoi practically beamed, "Really? You wouldn't mind?" Momoi gifted her with a hopeful look and Hana couldn't look away. How the hell do you say no to a face like that?

"Yeah, I'll buy food and everything," Hana offered before glancing down at her still bra-clad chest, "Just let me, you know, put a shirt on."

"Good idea," Momoi giggled as she watched the prickly manager fumble around with the new blouse. It was pink and Momoi was surprised how nice the color looked on her.

"Sweet, well I'm good to go. I can't stand spending any more time in here," Hana glanced at Momoi before offering her a tiny smile, "Are you ready?"

"Definitely," Momoi agreed. As they left the laundry room, she couldn't help glancing down at her phone and in vengeance, decided against informing Aomine about her new plans. Served him right, anyway. He shouldn't cancel last minute and over the phone no less.

Besides, she needed to learn more about Imamura-chan and the opportunity had just presented itself perfectly. Slipping the phone into her purse, Momoi smiled

xXxXx

Hana had never enjoyed shopping, but this was turning out to be surprisingly alright. Momoi led her down the street to the nearest shopping center which featured a surplus of fashionable teen clothing stores. Er, somewhat fashionable in Hana's opinion at least. Clothing had never been her forte— her day-to-day outfits typically consisting of white skirts and hand me down shirts from her neighbor's daughter.

But now, standing in front of the large full-length mirror, Hana was beginning to understand why people might like clothes. Occasionally, she guessed, they could sometimes look mildly flattering. At least that was the case with this shirt. The grey blouse she had on brought out her eyes and, low and behold, she looked like she had some boobs. Now the skirt though…

"You know," Hana stated, "I wish we could wear pants to school."

Momoi glanced at her from the reflection of the mirror, pausing in her attempt to fix her hair, "Why? That shirt looks good on you, by the way."

"Thanks. But I hate shaving every day," she responded before pouting down at the price tag. No way, I do not have that kind of money. Boobs will have to wait.

Momoi laughed and spun around to admire her backside, which even Hana could admit looked good, "That's understandable, I guess. But I don't think people would like you showing up to school looking like a gorilla."

"How rude, Momoi-san," Hana deadpanned as she got off the platform and returned to the dressing room to exchange shirts. She'd have to go with the cheaper option, no matter how good this one looked. Coming back to the large mirror, Hana raised an eyebrow at the fellow manager, "I thought you needed a new bikini."

"I do," Momoi nodded empathically, "But Aomine-kun never lets me try things on, he's so impatient."

"Speaking of him, does he know you're here with me?" Hana queried as she gathered up her things. It looked like Momoi had decided on the skirt she was wearing as well as the green bikini from earlier. Thank god— I'm so hungry.

"Ahaha, about that," Momoi admitted, an awkward chuckle floating through the air. Having heard the inadvertent confession for what it was, Hana let out a loud groan and shoved her wallet into her bag. That was exactly what she needed, an overprotective miracle jumping down her throat.

Que the sarcasm.

"Please tell him so he doesn't kill me," Hana ordered as Momoi returned to the dressing room., "I don't need to deal with him today."

The lightweight door flung open with Momoi's departure, "He wouldn't kill you. He looks scary but he's just a big teddy bear deep down."

"Deep, deep, deep down." Hana corrected. How anyone could see the tall boy as a freaking teddy bear was beyond her.

With a hesitant hum of acknowledgement, Momoi stepped out of the dressing room with her clothing tucked under an arm before leading the way to the entry. Momoi glanced at her as they walked toward the cashier, her pink eyes calculating, "I bet you two would get along. You guys are really similar, it's kind of freaky."

Startled, Hana choked on her spit, "How are we similar? I have nothing in common with that boy," she added as an afterthought, "No offense."

Laughing Hana's comment off, Momoi grinned as she ticked off her fingers, "You're both very crude. Both very lazy. You both curse too much. And finally, you're both little teddy bears on the inside."

"I'm not—damn it. I don't accept this," Hana protested as she dumped her shirt onto the cashier's counter. "Anyone other than Aomine and Kise, I'll accept."

Momoi blinked, "Akashi-kun?"

"Egkh, no thank you," Hana coughed, trying to discretely hide her grimace, "Anyone other than your teammates."

"But that's no fun," despite her complaint Momoi was smiling as she paid for her items. Catching a glimpse of the price, Hana tried not to gape. Holy hell that thing was expensive. Who in their right mind paid that kind of money for a piece on fabric on string!?

"So, I'm hungry. Want to go eat now?" Hana prodded and tried to direct the subject away from Momoi's teasing. The cashier handed them their bags, but Momoi's head was directed downward toward her flashing phone screen. Because Hana prided herself on her outstanding politeness, she gathered both hers and Momoi's bags. Anything to get to the food faster, she consoled herself mentally.

"Mhmm," Momoi agreed as they walked, typing out a frantic message on her phone, "You're still paying, right?"

Hana hmphed at her, handing Momoi her shopping bag a tad too hastily, "I guess."

Grabbing the bag and texting simultaneous, how the hell does she do that, Momoi shot her a small smirk, "You offered, Imamura-chan."

"… Bah," Hana grumped, "I was hoping you forgot."

"Nope!" The pink haired girl beamed, but Hana could see her amusement as the edges of her eyes crinkled. In turn, Hana rolled her own. Not out of annoyance per say, more out of resignation. She had offered, even if she was regretting it.

The two girls made their way to the mish mash of restaurants located in the middle of the shopping center. It was an uneventful process filled with Momoi questioning Hana about every little thing. It was impressive really— curiosity was a hell of a drug and apparently Momoi had the same addiction Hana did.

Now they were sitting at a tiny table in the back of some ramen place. Momoi was chattering in excitement, regaling the tales of the miracle's finer moments. Some of them were funny, some of them were a bit threatening, but out of all of them, one was the most shocking. Talk about a plot twist.

"… They stopped a robbery?" Hana gaped. She couldn't see it, the picture Momoi was painting didn't mesh with her ideas of the devil team. As a fuzzy outline of the events developed, her mouth dropped lower, "Midorima-san threw a box of snacks and it actually hit him?"

"Yeah! It was amazing to watch," Momoi smiled wistfully, "They worked so well together."

Hana pointed a chopstick ladled with noodles towards Momoi, "They always work well together. Too well most of the time."

"I'm not sure about that. Lately, the teams been difficult," Momoi sighed and Hana didn't like the dejected face she wore. This girl had been a perky ball of sunshine all day; it was unsettling to see her this way. Not to mention the freaking puppy dog face! Momoi's lower lip jutted out into the tiniest pout she'd ever seen, and Hana couldn't handle it any longer.

Shoving another bite of noodles into her mouth, Hana dropped the chopsticks down and reached for her backpack. Crumpling a couple of homework assignments and pushing them to the side, Hana reached for her prize. A flurry of flying papers alerted Momoi to her friends change of pace and the first-string manger grimaced.

"God dammit!" Hana cursed as her arm disappeared into the black hole, "I know I brought it, where the hell is it?!"

"Uhm…" Momoi began but was cut off by a binder being flung onto the table between them. Hana released a satisfied cheer before noticing the mess around her and groaning in dismay. Meanwhile, Momoi blinked at the ratty looking notebook in front of her.

Hana shoved papers back into her bag, unconscious of how messy the buildup was becoming, "Open that, I think it's page 19? Yeah, that page."

Momoi warily pulled the binder toward her, plucking off a receipt stuck to its cover, and flipped the book open to the directed page. She was greeted with a black and white picture of the first-string team. Kise and Kuroko were missing and Momoi noted the presence of Nijimura beside Akashi with their old coach stationed in the background. She ran a finger over the picture. Aomine looked so happy. They all did.

"How'd you get this picture?" she questioned Hana in shock. Momoi didn't remember Hana being there for this and the only copy had been thrown away when coach retired. Watery eyes glanced up at Hana, awed and mildly suspicious.

"Er…" Hana rubbed the back of her neck, "I was a lot smaller back then. You know, tiny spaces and everything."

"You stole it?" Momoi's voice cracked at the end either out of humor or shock. Hana had a feeling it was both.

"No! No, no. I made a photocopy, see?" she motioned toward the photo, "It's in black and white!"

Momoi's lips pursed, "...That's not much better. The photo was in coach's office!"

"He never locked it!" Hana defended but avoided making eye contact with the incredulous girl. Mummering a few choice words under her breath, she continued, "That's not what I wanted you to look at anyway. The next page is a summary of their old stats."

Momoi looked at the old photo for a moment, unwilling to turn away from it. Letting out a wistful sigh, she followed Hana's directions and flipped the page over. At first, she thought Hana had been confused and told her the wrong page as the whole section was covered in different types of graphs. But as Momoi looked closer, she began to make out everyone's names.

Each member of the team had a tiny picture at the top of the page, with small lines indicating their power, even Momoi had one. There was also a bar graph with everyone's height, a pie chart detailing everyone's play time, a small timeline of their wins and losses, and in the middle of the page an unknown chart was detailing something Momoi couldn't figure out.

"What is this…" Momoi muttered in astonishment. She pointed her finger at the chart in the middle, mind reeling with the information stuffed into the tiny speckling of dots and lines.

"That's what I wanted you to look at," Hana admitted, "It's a correlation chart."

"Correlation of what?" Momoi had never seen a graph like this. At first glance it was just a pointless mess of dots and lines, but now she could see the information forming right in front of her eyes.

Hana leaned slightly over the table and pointed at the different colored dots, "Each of the dots represents an area of play that only that individual does. See Midorima-san's? It's basically all focused in the shooting section. But the lines that connect them show how one member interacts with another. See how almost all of them connect to Midorima's? It's because he's their main shooter."

Tilting her head at the old information, Hana pointed out another fact, "Aomine and Murasakibara have a lot of dots in the shooting section too, but the lines don't connect with as many as Midorima's."

Momoi stared at the paper, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, "But they all connect one way or another."

"Exactly," Hana nodded, impressed, "That shows that they use each other, as a team should. Take Midorima for example, again."

Hana pointed her finger at the section of green dots, then dragged it over the red section where most of the lines connected, "This is his and Akashi's correlation together. In order to score, most of the time when Akashi had the ball, he'd pass it to Midorima. They branch off into the purple, blue, and black section a couple times, but he mostly stayed green."

"I see that. But what are you trying to show me?" her pink haired companion had gotten serious. Momoi wasn't sure what Hana was implying, but the information was intensive and clearly leading to some sort of point.

"Okay, then stop looking at the details. Look at the whole graph. You see how many lines and dots there are?"

Momoi nodded in concentration. Hana was correct, there were multitudes of random lines connecting every single player. A few were bunched together in certain colors, like Midorima's and Akashi's, but every single dot had at least five lines connecting it to the others. But she'd already pointed that out; what was she missing?

"Now flip to page 29."

The sound of flipping pages was drowned out in the noisy restaurant, but Momoi could feel her heart beating in anticipation with every page. Page 26, page 27, page 28, page 29. This new page was like the earlier one, but the graphs had been updated with different information. They had more information, ranging from speed to reflexes and just like the last page, in the middle was a brightly colored correlation chart, but with different colors reflecting the new players.

Momoi stared at it for a moment, still not comprehending. The dots and lines were still there. Was it the different colors? It must be— because nothing else had changed. Momoi gasped, "They're the same!"

"Pretty much," Hana agreed, pointing at the new graph. Her brow furrowed in irritation, "It's not completely accurate, stupid ghost thing. But yeah, everyone's lines still connect to each other. Kuroko connects to everyone equally, but some of the others have grouped off a bit. You see how that dark blue is focused only on Kuroko? That's Aomine. But since Kuroko acts as a sorta, uhm, middle piece? Anyway, because he doesn't take an offensive role, most of the lines that pass through him stay the same color," Hana trailed off as her words registered, "I'm not making sense, am I?"

"No, no. I think I get it. You're saying Tetsu-kun's role basically binds the team together? It forces the team to continue to play with each other in mind," Momoi explained softly. It was incredible, really. Despite the growing strengths of her team, they still worked together. They were still a team.

"Sorta. It's not all Kuroko, though. See the red? Akashi still knows where his team's strengths are and uses them," Hana admitted. Across from Hana, Momoi was listening to her every word, eyes locked on the paper in front of her.

Hana continued her explanation after a pause, "It's the rest of them that are grouping together. Aomine has Kuroko, but he mostly plays singularly. Murasakibara has left his offensive role and focuses solely on defensive, alone. Kise is okay I guess; I don't have any information to compare him too. But Midorima is still shooting, although his passing has taken a hit. He forgets to pass the ball into a better position and takes shots irregularly."

Momoi absorbed the information as her awe faded. Everything Hana had explained reflected the past games they had participated . They had been drifting apart and now she understood— their developing strengths were forcing them too. Yet Tetsu-kun and Akashi were keeping them together, somehow.

"I think I get it. As they grow, they separate," Momoi muttered as pink eyes flicked to the different charts.

"Basically," Hana agreed, "But that's not really why I showed you that. I wanted you to know that they still play together, it's just a different style."

Pink eyes stared blankly at Hana for a moment, still lost in the charts. Then Hana's words registered.

"What?" Momoi's mouth dropped open. "That's why you showed me?"

"Don't look at me like that!" Hana waved her away, face blossoming into a blush, "You looked sad, it was unnatural."

"You're so sweet, Imamura-chan!" The pink haired girl plastered a large smile on her face, but inside her thoughts were whirling at this newly discovered personality trait.

"It wasn't that big of a deal…" Hana wiped her hand over her face as Momoi continued to beam. She hadn't planned for the other manager to be this happy; she'd just wanted her to understand. In fact, thinking about it, why was Momoi so excited? Hana had just admitted to having insane amounts of information on their team. Cautious green eyes peered at Momoi, "You aren't angry about it?"

Startled out of her thoughts, Momoi blinked. She didn't answer right away as she mulled the question over. As a member of the team, she was decidedly wary about the influx of information. As a manger, she was in awe over it. But as a friend, she was just happy Hana decided to share it. Momoi smiled genuinely, "I'm not. I don't think you'd do anything horrible."

"But…" Hana was stumped. If Momoi had told her that she possessed information about all her teams gaming styles, Hana would be pissed. Not worried, just flat out pissed— but this angel of a girl in front of her was smiling.

"You've had that for a year now and haven't done anything. I think that's a pretty good judge of character," Momoi offered in explanation. Her voice was gentle, but the underlying tone was firm and decided. It was almost as if Momoi knew her well enough to be certain— wait.

"You used this as a chance to spy on me," Hana deadpanned.

"Yup!" Momoi grinned, unashamed, "I just wanted to know a bit about you. Ki-chan and Tetsu-kun think highly of you. And even Midorin likes you!"

"He doesn't like me," Hana denied automatically. Meanwhile, green eyes narrowed at the other girl, "I really want to be mad you planned this, but I'm leaning toward impressed."

"Eh heh, I didn't plan for all of this to happen. I was just going to find you after practice and talk to you. Everything else that happened was coincidence!"

Coincidence, huh? Hana thought back onto their spontaneous meeting; there was absolutely no way Momoi could have planned all that. Humming thoughtfully, she accepted the explanation, "Alright, I guess. Have I passed your tests?"

"Most of them," Momoi admitted, "You passed my expectations at least."

Hana spluttered as she lost the reins to her anger, "That better be a compliment."

"It was! I hadn't been very impressed with you before this," she waved off Hana's offended gawk, "Sure, you stood up to Akashi-kun but that doesn't mean much to me," Momoi glanced toward the binder thoughtfully, "Though you did fail one test; I wanted to make sure you weren't dangerous. Which you clearly are."

"… so, where does that leave us?" Talk about a plot twist, Hana lamented mentally.

"Hmmm," Momoi hummed and rested her chin on a dainty palm. Hooded pink eyes bore into Hana, "I like you, Imamura-chan."

"Oh," Hana swallowed to dampen her suddenly dry mouth, "That's, uhm, great."

For a second there, Momoi seemed to channel her demonic captain. The girl could pull off the intimidating look well; it was no wonder she was the first-string manager. You'd have to be strong to keep all those boys in line. Across from her, Momoi cracked a smile before her serious mask dissipated and she burst into soft giggles.

"So, friends?" Momoi offered the metaphorical olive branch as her laughter died down.

"Friends," Hana agreed tentatively before picking up her forgotten chopsticks and shoving noodles into her mouth. She faintly heard another giggle, but her focus was now on the delicious food in front of her. Stress makes me hungry, I can't help it!

After the plot twist of hell, everything seemed to flow a lot smoother. Both girls found that they could respect the other— Hana for Momoi's shrewdness and Momoi for Hana's information. The resulting conversation never strayed too far from basketball, something which Hana greatly appreciated. She'd heard other girls blabbering about their crushes and that was certainly not a topic to talk about with Momoi.

Unfortunately, both Hana and Momoi were so involved in their conversation that they didn't hear the happy jingle coming from Momoi's phone. The jingle continued for another ten minutes with varying moments of silence. At last, it cut off.

"So this one time, Aomine-kun was trying to sneak up on Testu-kun—"

"Please tell me you filmed it?"

"Yes! Want to see?"

Meanwhile...

"Pick up your phone, dammit," Aomine cursed into the dial tone.

Annoyed blue eyes narrowed at the shopping center in front of him. He would never admit it to Satsuki, but he felt guilty for not going with her this afternoon. Texting her earlier had absolved some of the guilt, but his overprotective instincts had flared when she informed him she'd gone with someone else.

So now, he was here with his childhood friend not picking up the damn phone.

He huffed before pocketing it, "What a pain."