First off, I apologize for the wait. I got a new job in January and I haven't had time to catch my breath until recently.

Secondly, I'm sorry for dragging this arc out. It serves a very good purpose, but I know it can get dull. Please hang in there!

Warnings: Bad language, threats of violence, some themes of harassment/stalking

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or affiliated characters.


Let the Preliminaries Begin!

For someone that dealt with secrets as her unofficial hobby, Hana sure didn't like keeping them.

It hadn't been this hard in Teiko. Uoya and company served as a solid confessional and when she couldn't confide in them, Hana had the rest of her old team to fall back on. Nothing beats sharing the tea. Except, back then her problems had been minor. Crushes, bad grades, and the occasional miracle drama— nothing her little squad of basketball bros couldn't handle.

Unfortunately, the dilemma she found herself in now couldn't be classified as minor.

Between the not-so-subtle threat to Uoya's safety and the wonderful realization that her once mentor had no qualms following her around town, Hana had the sinking suspicion she needed to keep this little problem to herself. There were too many unstable variables at stake. Kagami might have helped, but with prelims right around the corner—

Ping!

Her phone rang, the sound nearly making Hana flinch.

That was the other problem she was currently facing. Apparently throwing caution to the wind in favor of intimidation, Torio had given up on hiding his mechanisms. For the last week, he'd taunted her with text messages. It was nothing too explicit or dangerous, nothing he could get implicated for. They just toed the line between friendly and too close.

Hana wasn't an idiot. She knew what he was doing— making sure she didn't forget he was watching. She just didn't understand why.

What could he have hidden in her locker that made him so desperate?

"Imamura-chan—" It took a minute for her brain to kick back into gear, but the sight of Riko's scowling face had her rationality spiraling into focus, "Can you hand me an eraser?"

She'd forgotten the coach was here. Honestly, she'd forgotten where here was. One second, she was diving through Riko's notes from last year in preparation for the first preliminary game against Josei, and the next, her phone rang. It was just the high-pitched ping that signaled a text message, but Hana couldn't bring herself to read it— finger stuck hovering halfheartedly over the little notification box.

"Shit," Hana blinked hard, trying to ignore the painful pounding of her heart. She plucked a yellow eraser off Riko's comforter, "Yeah, uh, here."

From his place against the furthest wall of Riko's room, Hyuuga peered over his glasses to shoot her a dry look, "Finally. Pay attention, Imamura. The game's tomorrow."

Really? Hana shot him a droll look. Way to state the obvious, captain.

She still wasn't really sure why he was here. Riko claimed he came to cut her hair, but Hana had yet to see any scissoring happening in or out of the bedroom. At least there hadn't been when she'd initially come over to reconnaissance with Riko, but Hana had the sneaky suspicion Riko'd invited him over for more than a haircut. Thank god. The tension between them during practice was slowly killing her.

One more longing look and Hana was going to lock them in the supply closet.

Giving the captain a scowl, she huffed as Riko snatched the eraser from the air without looking. Rubbing the plastic over her notebook, Riko spoke, "Thanks. Have you found anything?"

That was a good question. It also depended on what Riko classified as beneficial. The last thing she remembered reading was about how Josei's coach retired last year, letting his younger cousin take the mantel. There was a really interesting article about nepotism running rampant in high-school coaching, but it wasn't anything that helped their case.

"No," Hyuuga sighed, tilted his head against the wall, "It's the same information from last year. They've got a new freshman ace, but nothing about his playing style," he cut Hana a look, "How about you, Imamura?"

"Uh," Hana licked her lips, stare falling down to the mess of papers lying in her lap. She knew who Hyuuga was talking about, having stalked his social media the night before, "I think I've got a lead. It's just a little backhanded—"

Hyuuga snorted, running a hand through his short hair, "Not the first time you've said that."

Normally she'd have something smart to say, but instead, Hana winced. Before she could stop the wonderful flashback from ruining her evening, Torio's words were flooding her subconscious. You're just like me, flower. Disgust and some sort of vague self-horror made her lip curl. Fingers flexing, Hana dropped her phone and tilted her head back to the ceiling with a sigh.

It'd been a week now.

You'd think that'd be more than enough time to get over this tiny identity crisis Torio managed to gift her with before his departure. But noooo. Completely against what all the good little philosophers said, time did not heal all wounds. Revenge on the other hand

"Imamura-chan," Riko broke her out of her thoughts, "Are you okay?"

Sometime during her musings, Riko managed to turn around and had her arms wrapped over the back of her chair. There was a cute little furrow between the coach's brow, hazel eyes watching Hana's face with something she'd almost consider motherly. Oh god, not my mommy issues coming into play. She really was going off the deep end.

Pasting a brittle smile on her lips, Hana tried to wave her concern off, "I'm fine, just tired. Didn't get coffee after class."

Riko's head titled, hair falling over her forehead as she shared a look with Hyuuga, "Are you sure? You've been—"

Ping!

This time Hana flinched.

Silence tickled the air between the three of them, Hana's sharp intake of breath the only sound in the small bedroom. God, did it have to be so awkward? Trying to calm her racing heart, Hana laid a hand against her chest and scowled down at the traitorous phone in her lap. The screen blinked up at her, seven unread text messages flashing forebodingly on her screen.

That made it twenty-seven messages today. Did he really have to go to full-out harassment? Talk about messed-up priorities. Cornering me at Teiko must have released some dormant asshole genetics.

"Okay, that's enough," Riko crawled out of her chair, her hands plopped soundly on her waist, "Give me your phone."

For a second, all she could do was blink, "Wha—"

"Phone," Riko held her hand out in warning, "Let me see it, Imamura-chan."

Her mouth opened in a wordless gawp as Hyuuga beat her to the punch, "That's the fifth time it's gone off since you've been here and each time you've jumped. It's been happening at practice too," swallowing almost awkwardly, he brought a finger to his nose, "If someone's bothering you, a boyfriend or something—"

what.

"Uh," for once, Hana had nothing to say, "I don't—"

"We'll take care of it," Riko was crawling on the bed before Hana could blink. Her pale hands wrapped around Hana's own, hazel eyes shining as she spoke, "I know it's hard to speak up for yourself, but if someone's pressuring you into doing something you don't want to do, we can help," Riko squeezed her hands, drawing in a deep breath before asking, "It isn't Kuroko-kun, is it?"

"If it's Kise, I'll talk to Kasamatsu," Hyuuga added on, "I can talk to Aomine's captain too—"

Riko suddenly blanched, "Please tell me it's not Kagami-kun."

Woah, woah, woah. I've lost the plot. Hana held up her hands, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to piece together how the conversation suddenly got so derailed, "Okay, no— nothing like that, thanks. God, Taiga—" Hana nearly gagged. Why is it always Taiga?!

"If it's not them," Riko cut Hyuuga a look, a new worrying shine of suspicion in her stare, "What is it? Do you have a boyfriend?"

Hana nearly laughed. A boyfriend? In this economy?

"No thank you," she threw her arms in an exaggerated denial, "I don't have a boyfriend, nor do I want one—"

Before she could finish explaining, her phone was snatched out of her lap. Left blinking at the blur of flesh as he settled back into his spot against the wall, Hana could only gape at the captain. Did he just? Her teeth clicked as her mouth dropped open, "Are you shitting me right now?"

"Hyuuga-kun!" Riko chastised, but Hana noted she didn't do anything more than look sheepish, "Ask first!"

Oh, now we're asking! Hana gave the coach a dark look but didn't do anything further. There was a precarious balance to be maintained. She was stuck in a difficult position— either risk overacting and drawing more doubt or attempt at nonchalance. For now, she'd go with the latter.

Without looking for permission, Hyuuga flipped the screen open. The blue light reflected against his glasses, "I can't believe you don't have a password. What if someone steals this?"

Wow. Hana deadpanned, "Like you just did?"

"You don't have room to talk, Imamura," Hyuuga muttered, frowning down at the screen when the phone pinged again. He didn't open the message, proving once again he had better self-control than she did. That control didn't stop him from reading the contact information, "Who's Piece of Shit Torio?"

And just like that, all the pieces came falling down. Hana's heart shot into her throat, "Uhm, long story."

It was too late. Recognition smacked into Riko with a jerk, her eyes going wide with something Hana could only peg as shock. Dread sank into her bones. The coach's stare flickered from the phone and to Hana's face with a deliberate suspicion. Hana's mouth pinched into a painful grimace. She wouldn't lie. The doubt hurt.

"Torio? Torio Kano?" Riko's voice dipped in mistrust and ice crawled over Hana's heart at the disbelief in her tone, "Imamura-chan, that's—"

She couldn't meet her coach's stare, instead watching the way Hyuuga stared up at them and how his brow furrowed in slow confusion. Right before her eyes, she watched as he understood what Riko was inferring, shadows tightening his jaw as he finally looked at her. Days spent ruminating in uncertainty trickled to the surface.

They'll never trust you. Torio's honeyed voice tickled her ears, his laughter ringing in her head. You're a liar, Hana.

"Yeah, I know," Hana swallowed, closing her eyes, and flopping back into Riko's bed with a heavy sigh, "He's Kirisaki Daiichi's manager," for once, she didn't try to lie her way out of the admission, "We know each other from Teiko—"

X

Teiko Middle School, First Year

Four Years Ago

Coming back to Japan was weird.

Arms tucked into the deep blue pockets of her new uniform; Hana furrowed her brow at the receptionist behind the white counter. She spoke too fast. It was like she didn't breathe between her words, flowing through sentences faster than Hana could comprehend. Even her English teacher in America had spoken slower than this and she was from Jersey.

Shuffling on her feet, Hana realized she wanted her dad.

Since Hana was grudgingly sent back to Japan, he'd always made sure to draw his pronunciation out and took his time on the difficult words Hana still had trouble understanding. He wouldn't spit out acronyms and unfamiliar words at the drop of a hat.

The petite woman behind the desk smiled at her, bright white teeth flashing behind pink lips, "— class?"

"I'm sorry," Hana whispered, biting her lip into her mouth as she tried to understand what she was saying. She tasted blood on her tongue and abruptly stopped chewing on the flesh, "What class?"

"I said—" she repeated the word Hana still didn't know, but her pretty smile was fading, "Do you understand?"

No, she didn't understand, but she kept her mouth firmly shut.

That'd be a one-way ticket to the remedial classes. Her grasp of the more detailed vocabulary concepts was tumultuous at best. Hana's fingers twitched in her pocket, green eyes trailing over the pen on the desk as she nodded a false affirmation. She'd need something to write with once she got her schedule— her fingers twitched again, eyeing the receptionist and the clock behind her head.

She eyeballed the pen again, her hand slipping out of her pocket as the receptionist printed out her schedule. It was a pretty silver one, expensive. Don't do it. She rolled her hand into a fist as the lady scribbled her signature over her new schedule.

But dammit, it was so pretty.

"Thank you," Hana bowed her head, reaching forward to grab the sheet of paper that she slid across the desk. The paper crinkled in her fist as Hana brought it to her chest, tucking the pen she'd snatched into the open end of her new blazer, "I appreciate your help."

She really didn't, but she'd learned over the years that kindness opened more doors.

The lady smiled, but whatever she said was lost to Hana's ears as the door behind her smacked open, "Osaka-chan!"

"Torio-san," the receptionist tutted, but Hana could spot the smile blooming on her pretty face. It reminded her of the grandmother at her mom's church who always slipped her a dollar after the sermon, "Running errands again?"

Lanky and loud, the boy stuck his head into the office with a charming grin, "Just wanted to see my favorite staff member," his dark eyes twinkled as he looked toward Hana, "Who's this?"

A blush built on her cheeks, but Hana was saved from replying, "A new student, Imamura-chan," Osaka-san smiled as she winked in Hana's direction, like they were sharing a secret, "Think you could show her around?"

Hana blanched. Oh no. No, thank you.

She'd planned on spending the majority of her middle school career laying low and getting out of here. Just because her mom had splurged on getting her into a prestigious school didn't mean she had to enjoy it. I will not be bribed through education.

Luckily, the boy seemed to be in agreement.

He winced, "Normally I'd love to—"

"Oh, hold on," Osaka-san interrupted, patting at the pockets of her blazer. Thinly plucked brows furrowed, "I'm missing my pen. Did you see where I put it, Imamura-chan?"

Oops. She should have timed that better.

"No, ma'am, I'm sorry," she didn't meet Torio's gaze, staring resolutely at the floor as she shook her head. There was a suspicious chuckle coming from the boy at the door, but Hana chose to ignore it, "You were using it to sign my documents."

Osaka-san tsked, snapping her fingers as she spun her chair and rolled toward the printer, "You're right, you're right! Thank you, Imamura-chan!"

She didn't stick around long enough to see if she found another pen. Skirting past the tall boy in the doorway, Hana slipped out the door and into the brightly lit hall. Her nose wrinkled in discomfort— it smelled too strongly of lemons and antiseptic, making her miss the slightly musty smell of her old elementary school.

Before she could fully settle, a warm arm draped itself over her shoulders, "Now hold on, chibi-chan."

"Please let go," spying the familiar lanky body pressed against her left, Hana shrugged the arm off. She'd read about boys like this in her books and frankly, she wanted nothing to do with them, "I would like to go to class."

"So formal," Torio-san teased but he let go of her shoulder without any pushback, "Really weird for a little—" Hana lost track of the conversation at that point, not knowing what word he was using. Dor-ro-ba?

"I'm sorry," she bowed again, taking a step away, "I don't understand."

His brows arched high, and he repeated the word, smiling when Hana merely blinked at him, "You don't speak Japanese well, do you?"

"I'm speaking fine," she countered but even Hana could tell the language didn't come naturally to her anymore. She hadn't realized it was so noticeable though. Hana didn't look back at him as she left, his Cheshire smile already engrained too firmly in her memory, "I'm sorry, I need to go to my class."

Damnit. She'd have to practice the informal terms. She was really tired of formally addressing people, especially kids like this—

"Thief!" He yelled down the hall in English. When her steps immediately paused, he continued with what Hana could only call an impish grin, "I called you a little thief, but I guess I could call you a little liar too."

Hana froze, heart beating an angry rhythm as she stared back at the boy over her shoulder, "I did not—"

He couldn't have seen, could he?

"You did," Torio-san sang out as he nearly swaggered back into her personal space. Without regard to her sputtered complaints, he laced his arm back over her shoulder and directed her down the hallway, "I saw you, but I won't tell—" he winked then, a charming thing, "Unless you'd rather I'd leave you alone?"

"You can't tell," Hana swallowed. Dammit. Damn, triple dog damnit, "My mom—"

"Don't worry," Torio chuckled and in the empty hallway of her new school and the shattered remains of her old life, Hana found the noise almost comforting, "I won't tattle on a fellow delinquent. Hang out with me and I'll be sure to help you," he finished with an overt wink, "Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, yeah?"

She didn't trust him, but what choice did she have? Feeling the stolen pen burn a hole in her pocket, Hana peered up at the boy from under blunt bangs and frowned, "You want to help me?"

"Oh yeah," Torio squeezed her shoulder with a fond smile, "I think we've got a lot in common."

Great. She scoffed under her breath, but it went ignored.

It took a minute but tucked under the arm of what she'd soon learn to be a rising high schooler, Hana felt the first stirrings of ease since she'd arrived back in Japan. Where people once shoved and roughly scooted around her smaller form, Torio's added bulk made it difficult for them to even clip her shoulder. After he finished guiding her down the halls, pointing at classrooms right and left, they eventually made it to a set of tall, metal doors.

"Say, flower-chan," Torio grinned down at her, the florescent lights behind his head making the sharp angles of his boyish face more angular, "How do you feel about basketball?"

For the first time that day, Hana smiled.

X

"Anyway," flashback abruptly cutting off, Hana waved away the lingering tension, "That was then. He was my captain back at Teiko, but we're not close anymore. Wouldn't be after the shit they pulled with Kiyoshi."

No. Hana reflected with a slow-growing scowl. Never again. Her knuckles hurt just thinking about it.

Hyuuga frowned. The suspicion wasn't quite gone, but he didn't have that angry furrow to his brow anymore, "I didn't know."

There was something hidden in his statement and Hana had the brief realization that out of all her teammates, Hyuuga knew most of what went down after the match between Seirin and Kirisaki Daiichi. He'd been the one she'd given Hanamiya's wallet to, after all. He just didn't know all the secular pieces of the story.

"I didn't tell you," Hana shrugged, sending a probing look toward Riko, "I wouldn't talk with him if he was the last person on earth. This," she motioned to her phone, "Isn't willingly. He's just trying to psyche me out before the game, underhanded shit like that."

That was an understatement.

The text messages Torio had sent the last week were more than a game, they were a threat wrapped in pretty lace. Uoya's sure improving! Kitano still needs to work on his receiving though. One day he decided to venture really low. I saw Midorima today, has he always wrapped his fingers so tightly? And finally, just yesterday afternoon— Kuroko-kun has turned into an impressive player. I'm almost jealous.

"I understand, Imamura-chan. We all have a past," Riko finally smiled, a shy little thing, as she traded a look with Hyuuga, "I trust you. It's just—Kirisaki Daiichi is a sore spot for our team, and I know you understand why. With us having to face them in the preliminaries…" she shook her head as if shrugging off the memories, "Let me know if he gives you any trouble, we'll take care of it."

And there it was. The crux of Hana's vow of silence.

With the history between Kiyoshi and Hanamiya, there was no way in hell Hana was adding her own bullshit into the team's upcoming match. After Torio's threats and his warning regarding her teammates, Hana was more than determined to keep them out of his reach. All of them.

It wasn't just Seirin she was worried about anymore.

"I know," Hana stretched, trying to hide the tension slowly sinking its way up her spine, "Don't worry, it's just juvenile bullshit. I'll take care of it." She just needed to get to that damn locker. With the feeling of the entire world resting on her shoulders, Hana forced a smile on her face and sank back into the bed, "Now come on, ignore that shithead. We've got a game tomorrow."

If she'd been paying attention, she might have caught the way Hyuuga's stare narrowed on her face.

xXxXx

Josei Versus Seirin

Facing the mirror in the girl's bathroom, Hana adjusted her albeit small chest.

Her lips pursed as she plucked at the thin fabric of the tank top, twisting left then right to make sure the ensemble was complete. It'd taken her ages to find a bra with just enough padding to make this outfit work and by god, it better work. Let me have a win for once, fate.

Fluffing up the bulk of her two high pigtails, Hana gave her outfit one last final look before nodding.

It was nice to get lost in a scheme again. She'd missed these days.

"Come on, Narumi," Hana smiled at her reflection, "Show me what you're made of."

Ignoring the awkward clack of her heels on the bathroom floor, Hana propped the public restroom door open with her hip and peered down into the hallway. Hopefully, her team was still in the dressing room and she'd have enough time to slip down to the stadium without interference.

Her shoes clicked as she stepped into the hall and Hana grimaced. How do women do this shit? She wasn't too sure what had her nervous about running into them, but she'd rather not. Click-clacking into the stadium, Hana had a firm hand pressed against the back of her skirt to prevent it from riding up. Unfortunately, as she stepped into the stadium, it seemed today was an early day for the boys.

"Imamura-chan?" Someone tried to whisper, but it didn't work very well, "What are you…"

Hana stared at the group sitting on the bleacher. Well, shit. Looks like she didn't time that well after all. At Fuduka's call out, the rest of the group turned to look at the stadium doors, treating Hana to a wide variety of expressions. Riko looked like she'd died and gone to hell, Hyuuga's face was as red as the letters on his uniform, Kiyoshi tried to smile, but Kagami

"What the hell are you wearing?" The grumpy ace was up on his feet before Hana could blink, "Go change you idiot, this is a basketball tournament!"

Oh, he didn't just go there. If all eyes weren't already on them, they sure as hell were now.

"Am I going to be playing with said basketball?" Hana countered, propping a hand on her waist, "No. So keep your misogynistic bullshit to yourself. I can dress however I damn well please and wherever I damn well want to—"

Cheeks blowing up like a squirrel, Taiga's face went red, "You look like a—"

"If any variation of whore comes out of your mouth," Hana took a threatening step forward, the clack of her heels echoing over the suddenly silent gym, "I will shove Koganei's jockstrap down your throat and tie your tonsils in a noose with it. Do you hear me?"

Hana raised a brow, trailing her glare down his face and toward his throat with subconscious intent. Oh, I'll do it, bastard. Just wait and you'll see. Kagami's mouth opened once, then shut as he considered just how serious her threat might be. As the two stared at each other, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"Captain," someone whined on the other side of the court. Narumi, Josei's new freshman ace, was openly gawking at her from across the court, "I think I'm in love."

Red eyes flicked toward the other side of the room before realization slammed into him, a tired snarl making Kagami's face ugly, "You're kidding me," he glowered back down at Hana, brow twitching at the smug grin lighting her face, "You're a horrible person."

Hana's smile twitched, just the barest hint. He's just being a shit.

"Gotta catch flies with honey, or in this case," she cut her attention over to the now staring Narumi. At least that part of her plan was working. She tried to saunter past Kagami, but due to the heels, it was more of a stomp, "Catching perverts with boobies."

Kagami gawked, choking on his spit, "Don't just say that out loud—"

"You look nice, Hana," Kuroko offered in direct contrast to Kagami's bullshit. His lips quirked up the slightest bit as she bared her teeth back in a vicious grin, "Though, I think the heels are a bit much."

God bless you, Tetsuya. It was honestly a bit terrifying how the tension suddenly flooded out of Hana's body at the compliment. The rest of her team hadn't stopped staring and with Kagami's brutal call-out, she was struggling to fight off the sudden flare of self-consciousness. Catching Kuroko's eye, Hana smiled— her cheeks nearly flushing when he mimicked the expression.

"I'm not even going to argue with that," Hana agreed, clip-clacking her way over to the bleacher. They were some strappy little black shoes she'd snagged at the secondhand store and the Velcro patch rubbed against her ankle painfully, "I feel like I'm going to fall on my ass and ruin the whole charade."

Kagami narrowed his eyes at the pair of them, "Did you— did you know she was doing this?"

"No," Kuroko shook his head minutely, "But that doesn't change my opinion. You should always compliment a girl when they dress up."

Awh, you romantic little shit. Her chest was suddenly too warm. Hana jabbed a pointed finger in Kuroko's direction as she tried to delicately straddle the bench to sit down, "And that's why Tetsu's my favorite. He doesn't judge me."

So busy making sure her skirt didn't ride up, she missed Kuroko's self-satisfied little smile and the incredulous gape Kagami directed at his head.

None of her other teammates said a word as Hana settled herself primly atop the bleacher. Flattening out the ruffled edge of her skirt, she crossed her legs over each other and pulled out her phone. Someone sitting to her right coughed as her pigtail smacked him in the face, but Hana couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Imamura-chan," Riko eventually broke the awkward atmosphere. Her palm was pressed firmly against her forehead, "What are you doing?"

"Expanding my connections. Dude's into porn," Hana offered casually, tilting her head toward the still panting freshman on the other side of the court, "It's actually pretty bad. He's got like three subscriptions to a few local girls in Tokyo, pretty costly for a teenager," Hana frowned, "Makes me wonder if he's using his dad's credit card—"

"I— I don't think I want to know anymore," Riko brought both hands up to her eyes and rubbed hard, "Is this the underhanded tactic you were talking about?"

"Yup," Hana clicked her teeth together as she smiled, "Surprise!"

Sometime during her explanation, the first whistle rang, and the rest of the team headed out to the court. Furihata and company were situated to Hana's left while Koganei and Mitobe sat on her right. The bench-warming squad is growing. Hana peered around, looking for Kuroko. She lost track of them when they'd gone out to the court, but if she focused just enough on the right side of the court, he was tucked away behind Kagami and Hyuuga.

Despite the early stages of a blush highlighting her cheeks, Riko shot her a droll look, "I'm not sure I understand how you dressing up is going to help. It can't be that bad—"

Whatever else she had to say was interrupted by Josei joining the players already on the court.

"Come on, captain," Narumi, a burly brunette with half a brain cell and the beginnings of a superiority complex, whined, "I want to stand near the cute manager."

Seirin's side of the court stiffened. Kiyoshi blinked, his hand hovering in the air from where he'd previously been patting Hyuuga on the shoulder. The captain was in a similar state of surprise, eyes wide and furious behind his glasses. Tucked behind Kagami's suddenly tremblingly body mass, Izuki stared incredulously at the brazen freshman. Even Kuroko, the calm and collected ace-in-the-hole, was a bit too rigid to be natural.

Hana winced. Here we go.

From her brief foray into the forums surrounding Josei High School, the newest ace, Narumi Daisuke, had a bit of a nasty habit. Between his porn addiction and his newfound stardom on the basketball team, the freshman had developed a case of loudmouth. With his catcalling and just general bullshittery, Narumi was a popular topic among the girls of the school.

It wasn't anything that truly benefited their chances to win this game, but a nice tidbit of knowledge nonetheless. Movement from across the court caught her attention and Hana grimaced. Though, it does come with the added benefit of riling Taiga up.

Beside her, Koganei choked on the water he was sipping, "Did he just?"

"He did," Riko sighed, tilting her head up to the ceiling as if in prayer, "Imamura-chan, please don't encourage—"

Too late, sorry coach. Hana didn't have to speak. The damage was already done.

Kagami broke apart from the group, finger pointed threateningly at the other team's ace, "Oi! Pervert! Focus on the game!"

"I am focused," Narumi smiled in what might have been a charming manner if his captain wasn't currently hauling him back to their side of the court. He didn't even look at Kagami's face as it rapidly grew purple, "Talk to you later, manager-chan."

"Oi!"

A dopey grin was shot Hana's way as Narumi looked over Seirin's side of the court and laughed. He didn't get his wish, having to be half tugged, half dragged to the other side of the court, but Hana still shot Riko a proud look. Might not have all the goods, but at least I can fake it. Victoria's Secret was sure putting in some good work.

Staring after the big lug of a pervert, Riko cupped her head and sighed, "Imamura-chan."

"Yes, coach?" Hana blinked in an attempt at innocence.

Cutting her a look, Riko merely asked, "Why?"

"The spy ring has to grow before we play in the Winter Cup. I haven't had a chance to look into other districts and he has family from up north," Hana refuted, propping her chin in her hand and watching as the boys lined up on the court, "If I have to flash a little boob to get his cooperation, I'll do it." She motioned to her chest in emphasis, "Besides its not real boob—"

"They're not real?" Kawahara's muted whisper was ignored as Hana dove into her thoughts.

Hopefully, It'd be worth it. She was taking a gamble on this one. So far most of her contacts resided in Tokyo, but if Hana's knowledge was correct, Narumi transferred to Josei High after living in Akita for middle school. It'd be a long shot, but it was the closest she'd gotten so far to having a contact from Akita who might know more about Yosen.

She had Kaijo's district covered with Iseri so if she could find someone in Akita, that'd only leave Rakuzan. Which means I'll need someone in Kyoto…

Riko's hand smacking against the top of her head jolted her out of her thoughts, "Focus on the game, Imamura-chan," there was a tired yet bemused smile growing on her face, "I appreciate you wanting to plan ahead, but one thing at a time."

"One thing at a time," Hana agreed as the buzzer for the game rang out, "Handle preliminaries first, and then I can get rid of the big guns."

Deal with Torio and Kirisaki Daiichi and then you can focus on Rakuzan.

With that final thought, she focused on the game. It was starting off rough. Whoever was in charge of Josei's intelligence did a pretty decent job at sourcing out the best players to secure. Or the best player in the case. The first half of the initial quarter was spent with Kagami in a chokehold, two of Josei's team members cornering him and preventing Kagami from gaining enough ground to shoot.

It was touch and go for about eight minutes and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel concerned.

Things only began to turn around once Kiyoshi entered the scene, his height an equal match for Narumi. From then on out, Seirin took the lead. The points began to climb steadily in their favor. One quarter turned into three and their team was currently holding a twenty-point lead.

"Kiyoshi's good," Hana added, brow arching high as he twisted his shot into a pass, "Decent wrist mobility too. Ever consider extra exercises for that?"

Riko's head tilted, watching as the boys lobbied the ball down the court, "No, but it's a good idea. I'll ask my dad if he has any recommendations. It's not something we normally consider—"

"With the size of Kiyoshi's hands, it'd be a waste not to," Hana countered, watching as he went for another shot. Josei was unable to counter, "Might make his movements even faster. What's his special power called?"

Despite his easy-going manners, Hana never forgot that Kiyoshi was a foundational part of the Uncrowned Kings. Between all five of them, each one had a special talent they were remembered for. She just wasn't familiar with the cringy nickname given to Kiyoshi's.

"Special power?" Riko grinned, but she didn't take her eyes off the court, "They call it Right of Postponement."

Oh, lame. Sounds like a constitutional law instead of a magic power. Hana sighed, pouting as Kagami received the ball, "Should have called it The Claw. You know— like that grappler hand that picks up the alien babies."

From her left, Fukuda let out a rough woosh of air, "What?"

"You know, it's The Claw," Hana mimicked, hands in a mockery of a claw position. She even imitated the little alien baby's voice. Quite well, she might add, "Claw is our master, claw chooses who will go and who will stay."

Big brown eyes blinked back at her in bafflement, "Alien babies? What—"

The sound of the quarter bell cut off whatever else Fukuda was going to say, if he was going to say anything at all. Might be rude of her, but Hana didn't have high hopes of him understanding her reference. So far, he'd failed two of her pop-culture pop quizzes and she didn't think his average had much of a chance to improve.

As the team merged back around the bleacher, Hana scooted over to let Kuroko fall into the spot on her left. He sat down softly, with a muted thank you before he began finishing off the last of his water. Hana quirked a brow at his lack of hard breathing. I'm impressed. It was about to be the start of the fourth quarter and despite his lackluster endurance, Kuroko was still going strong.

"Too's here," Kuroko offered blandly between sips, his shoulder nudging against Hana's own as he caught her eye, "Momoi-san is trying to get your attention."

Kuroko tilted his head, nodding toward the south end of the stadium and Hana caught sight of Momoi's familiar pink hair immediately. She was waving, a light blue hoodie covering her arms and a bright grin splitting across her face. The wild arm movement nearly clipped the shoulder of the boy next to her and as Hana focused, her heart sank into her stomach.

"Tetsuya," her voice trailed off into the smallest hint of a whisper she could offer, "Is that—"

She recognized two of the additional faces as Sakurai and Imayoshi who both sat on the left side of Momoi, but the fourth figure was doing a very inconspicuous job of hiding itself. You've got to be shitting me. Between the hoodie draped on their shoulders and the black baseball cap tugged over their hair, it was only the height and the tan skin that gave away who she thought she recognized.

"It is," Kuroko agreed, watching the area over the top of his water bottle, "It's unexpected."

Those weren't quite the words Hana would use, "Why the hell is he here?"

That was not Aomine's standard operating procedure. He didn't put effort into trivial things like preliminary matches, much less attending them for another team he had no intention of facing. He didn't think they offered any competition against him, so what could he possibly gain by coming here this afternoon? Twiddling with the ruffled end of her skirt, Hana let her stare drag over the group.

She didn't want to consider why he might have let go of his ego long enough to venture out here. It reminded her too much of when he'd offered to walk her home. Sure, they'd been making progress in mending some of the cracks in their friendship, but it wasn't anything serious—

"I can only assume he wanted to watch," Kuroko offered. He switched his attention from the stadium stands to the side of her face. "I doubt he would admit it, but Momoi-san told me he was worried."

That should not have made her stomach erupt in butterflies. Betrayed by my own hormones. Great.

Hana scoffed, the sound not nearly harsh enough, "Yeah, because he can't mind his own business. I've told all of you guys— I'm fine."

Kuroko gave her a fond look, similar to what she'd seen a teacher give a student who kept missing a key factor of an equation. Hana scowled. Do not look at me like that, you shit.

Something like understanding ate at her skin, but she didn't want to think about it any more than she had to. Kuroko kept looking at her in a manner she'd come to identify as trouble like he knew something she didn't. Instead of focusing on it, she yanked her gaze away from the rival group and over the rest of the audience.

Only to wish she hadn't.

Time skittered to a halt as her tongue got stuck in her throat. Tucked against the frame of the stadium's back entryway, a lanky figure smiled down at the court. It was too far away for her to see any details of their face, but the glittering flash of metal in their eyebrow and the red bandana tied around their hair gave it away.

"Shit—" Hana whispered, the sound catching Kuroko's attention, "Shit, shit, shit."

Realizing she'd caught him, Torio's mouth tilted into a charming grin and a lump of lead grew inside her chest. Without breaking contact, he tilted his head to the left and let his stare fall down the chairs. Hana followed the movement— straight back to the chair Momoi was sitting in.

No.

"Tetsuya," Hana's hand was wrapping around his wrist before she could think about it. Breaking eye contact with the current bane of her existence, she gave Kuroko a sharp smile, "Kick some ass, okay?"

Hana glanced at the clock— Fifteen minutes. They were currently up by thirty points, so it'd be difficult for Josei to catch up, but not impossible. She cut a look toward Kiyoshi and Kagami, both of them engaged in a brief conversation at the end of the bleacher. Kiyoshi was a tad sweatier than Hana would have liked to see, but Kagami looked fit enough to handle the added load.

Kuroko blinked, startled as she suddenly stood up and pulled away, "Hana?"

"I've got to go," she waved off his concern, turning and finding Riko's eye just as the final quarter bell rang. Got to hurry. Balancing on one foot, Hana slipped one heel off and then the other, "I'll still be in the stadium, but I've got to go check on something. Give Narumi my number, will you?"

Hana cut a sharp look over her shoulder and focused on the place she'd last spotted the Too team, trying to ignore the way confusion was starting to dot Momoi's face. Even Aomine was sitting up now. The hat he'd shoved over his head was gone and the beginnings of a brutal frown carved the lines of his brow. Before she could get a better look, Hana yanked her attention off the group.

God, if Torio even dared to take one more step down those stairs.

I'll kill him.

"Imamura-chan—" Riko stared as Hana shoved her notes into the coach's chest. There was irritation but mostly confusion lining her face, "Where are you— what are you doing?"

"Taking care of some bullshit, I'm sorry," Hana was already pulling her things together, but she took a chance to shoot the coach an apologetic look, "I wouldn't do this if I wasn't sure we were going to win, but I know we are. And I know, I know you're going to have my ass over this— but I swear to god, it's for a good cause."

Riko didn't have a chance to respond. The referee blew the whistle to restart the game and Hana was gone.

There was a softer chorus of confusion from her remaining teammates, but without the clacking of her heels to signal her departure, Hana was able to slip through the stadium's exit with little fanfare. She didn't look back as the door smacked shut behind her. Instead, she sprinted down the tile hallways.

Her hand caught the corner of a turn, and she nearly threw herself down the next exit and to the stairs.

X

Narrowed dark blue eyes watched the stadium's door smack shut.

Trailing his attention from the door back to Seirin's bench, Aomine's mouth tightened. Tetsu was frozen in his spot. His water bottle was grasped between his palms and a faint frown burned between his brows. The loud-mouth coach was screaming something from beside him, but Aomine ignored the brash woman.

Relaxing back into his chair, Aomine tucked his arms over his chest and scowled. He knew Imamura had seen him; there was no mistaking the angry little scowl that'd covered her face when she'd caught his eye. It'd made something sour build in his mouth, something that tasted too much like disappointment for his preferences. He hadn't been given more than a second to think about it before she was sprinting out off the court.

He should have known coming to this game was a bad idea.

Why the hell would she run off in the middle of a match? That was beyond her normal levels of stupid. Imamura may be an idiot, but she wasn't foolish. Even that big oaf Kagami had started to bitch, his finger pointed toward the doors in accusation. Aomine shook his head in revulsion. What an idiot.

In the process of adjusting, a shadow moved in his peripheral. It darted from the lower rows to the top, their pace like Imamura's hasty departure. Trying to keep his movements lax, he reached up to pretend to pull his hat further over his eyes and glanced at the figure moving behind him.

A familiar face caught his attention just as the man slipped through the exit.

"You've got to be kidding me," Recognition slapped him in the chest. The stadium chair smacked shut as Aomine crawled to his feet, "Stupid woman."

Momoi blinked, twisting her attention away from the door Hana snuck out of to shoot her best friend a strange look, "Dai-chan? Where are you going?"

Aomine only shook his head, declining to answer the question, "I'll be right back."

"Dai-chan! Wait!"

Without further prompting or an explanation to her remaining teammates, Momoi slipped out of her chair and dashed up the steps after her friend. Crossing his legs, Imayoshi propped his hand on his chin. A mild smile crawled over his face as he watched his two youngest teammates vanish into the rest of the crowd.

"Imayoshi-kun," Sakurai trailed off, twisting over his chair to watch Momoi's pink hair disappear through the exit, "Should we go after them?"

Closing his eyes, Imayoshi hummed, "We can give them a moment," his attention traveled back to the court, catching as Kuroko-kun attention followed their teammates' departure. He was frowning, his focus straying from the match. Imayoshi's smile twisted into a smirk, "How interesting."

Wide brown eyes blinked back at him, Sakurai subtly scooting away from him and to the right, "If you say so, captain…"

X

It didn't take long for Hana to realize her mistake.

I'm doing exactly what he wants. She'd left the security of her team and the bright lights of the stadium, chasing after shadows and quiet threats— risking herself in favor of protecting what might be a threat to Momoi. It was exactly what Torio would have planned dammit, she didn't have another choice here!

"This piece of shit," Hana grumbled under her breath, spotting the bright white sign pointing toward the entrance to the stairs, "I'm going to kill him— who the hell does he think he is?"

She wished there was a manual for dealing with psychotic basketball players. Shit, if she managed to survive the season, Hana would probably have more than enough material to write the damn thing herself. Between Torio, Hanamiya, and Akashi? She had the makings of a best seller hidden in her notes app.

It didn't take long to scope out the best way to the upper stadium. Unlike Teiko's massive gym, the preliminaries were being held in the nearby community recreation center. There were only two exits to the parking lot and between the bottom entrances to the stadium, there were four walkways up to the seating. Catching sight of the dark stairs ahead, she was prepared to take them two at a time until a voice called out from the shadows.

Mother trucker! Nearly tripping over her own feet, Hana barely caught herself from faceplanting against the bottom stair by latching onto the rail, "Damn it!"

Hana spun on her heel, a snarl catching in her throat as she caught sight of the interruption.

"Well, that didn't take long. You look nice," Tucked against the corner of the hall and the emergency exit, Torio smiled down at her sweaty face, "But I just wanted to drop in and say hi, you didn't have to come running."

Her pride flared at the insult and the implications of his statement. Even knowing this had been his intention, hearing it confirmed didn't soothe her the slightest bit. This son of a bitch.

Hana panted as she forced her lungs to work again after her impromptu sprint, "Oh, eat a dick," hands fisting against her hips, she glared up at Torio's conceited grin, "I'm calling the cops."

It was a lofty threat, but an honest one. Three clicks of her phone's lock button and the emergency alarm would be activated. No pride lost in a coward's war.

Torio blinked at her, taken aback. His brows furrowed for the briefest moment before his smile notched up a bit, turning almost blinding in the shadowed alcove of the stadium, "You're going to call the cops on me for watching a game?"

"No, I'm going to call the cops because you're stalking me and threatening my friends," Hana hissed when he laughed at that, blood rushing into her cheeks as she bared her teeth, "I told you to leave me alone."

"And I told you, I can't do that," he was still smiling, but his grin lost the serene edge it once had, "If you threw away the binder, then I need your help. I'm trying to go about this nicely, Hana, I really am."

Heaving another breath into her still struggling lungs, Hana narrowed her eyes. This is about the locker. She still hadn't had a chance to sneak into Teiko and scope out the importance of the damn thing, but she was going to. Whatever it was that had him acting this desperately was something she was sure he shouldn't have.

It felt like she was toeing a dangerous line, but Torio had always responded well to monologuing. She just needed to get him talking, "My help with what?"

Torio smiled, a sharp and cunning thing, "I knew your curiosity would get ahead of you," he stepped out of the corner, the red light of the exit sign bathing his skin in crimson tones, "I have some information I need to retrieve. I've promised it in exchange for some help with one of my more," his mouth lifted into a curve, "trickier problems."

Oh, that's reassuring.

Hana barely swallowed the scoff that wanted to escape, "How is the crap from Teiko going to help anymore? Everyone's grown—"

"Ah, ah, ah. There you go again assuming things," Torio stepped closer as he tsked, "This isn't about basketball, Hana. Makoto's interests are well past that."

So, this is about Hanamiya after all. That added an interesting layer to the equation. Unfortunately, it also made Hana's job that much harder. Things were beginning to click into place, and she had the sinking suspicion that her continued defiance was about to cause the situation to take a turn. Shit, just how deep does this run?

"So, it's Makoto now, huh?" Hana scoffed, ignoring the bubble of trepidation his admission lodged inside her chest and trying to probe into the new implication, "When'd you turn into his bitch?"

While not fully content, Hana was satisfied at the ugly snarl Torio barely managed to hide at the unwelcomed title. It lasted less than a second, but that was more than enough time to clue Hana into the growing dissent within Kirisaki Daiichi's ranks. I can work with that.

"Come on, flower, don't be crude," Torio wiped the expression away as he spread his arms wide in false welcome, "It's just a business arrangement."

Right, and I'm Akashi's mistress. She scoffed, "And if I don't want any part of your business arrangement?"

It was a redundant question. Hana didn't have to be a physic to know what came next.

"Well, then Makoto will have to get involved," Torio glanced overtly over his shoulder and up the staircase, a grimace pulling at his mouth when he shrugged, "Not sure Kiyoshi-kun can handle that. Honestly, I'm not sure if you can handle that."

His words hit her slowly. For a second, the width of the threat didn't sink in— wouldn't sink in. There was no way he was implying what he just said, but Torio's smile never faltered. Goosebumps rising over the cool skin of her neck, Hana's mouth opened twice, "Handle what?"

"I think you know," he'd yet to stop smiling, "I'd hate to see anything happen to you or Uoya-kun. You've made a lot of friends, Hana."

Her throat felt too tight. Words weren't coming, the sudden surge of anger in her veins making it hard to concentrate. Something knowing flickered in his face and taking advantage of the way her tongue had been tied, Torio smirked— a wicked thing that ruined the once charming curve of his grin and pulled the skin under his eyes too tight.

"You know who we play next, don't you? Shutoku," Torio stepped into her space, only a foot away and far too close for Hana's comfort, "What would happen if Midorima-kun's fingers got injured? What would he do? What about his friend," he snapped his fingers in false remembrance, "Takao-kun! He's quite mouthy, isn't he?"

Static bled into her ears.

"It's just a little bit of information, flower," Torio took another step closer, "That's all I need."

The way he offered it sounded almost innocent. Instead of holding the safety of her friends over her head, Torio held out his hands like he was gifting her the chance to be the hero. It made her teeth ache— a sharp pain growing in her jaw as she gritted the enamel against itself and sneered. Without her control, her fingers knotted into a narrow fist.

The motion did not escape his attention. He tilted his head, black hair falling over his eyes as he smiled wide, "Are you going to hit me, Hana?"

What a stupid question.

It had to be premeditated, but Hana couldn't find it in herself to care. The static in her head grew overpowering, nearly painful as it blotted out the sound of the game's final buzzer ringing in the background. Rage dyed her vision red and before she knew it, she was moving. Her arm hiked back, a snarl building over her face and adrenaline flooding her lungs—

The sound of shoes smacking into the tiled floor forced her to pause, "Don't do it, Ima-chan!"

Her steps faltered. Please tell me that's not who I think it is.

"Momoi?" Hana stumbled, worry causing her arm to lose tension and drop back to her side, "Get back upstairs—"

Light from the stadium above was suddenly streaked with shadows, the echo of multiple footsteps the only warning before the little alcove under the stairs was suddenly too full. Momoi's pink hair came into view first, Aomine not more than a second behind her, his steps relaxed but intent. He hovered near the bottom of the staircase as his languorous stare trailed down her face.

"You can't hit him!" Momoi skittered down the steps two at a time, her pink hair flying over her shoulders like a waterfall, "There's cameras down here— Seirin will be disqualified!"

Green eyes flickered to the ceiling, the tell-tell blink of a red LED light catching her attention in the corner next to the exit sign. Shit. The tension inHana's shoulders zapped out like a punctured balloon, "I wasn't—"

She didn't have a chance to finish her rebuttal before a tan hand wrapped around her wrist. What? Without giving Hana a chance to gather her wits, she was unceremoniously pushed behind a muscled back, tucked away into safety like a scared puppy. Aomine didn't meet her eye as he pulled back, his focus on the tall boy simpering in the corner.

For once, she allowed the manhandling.

"Always a little liar," Torio cut in, but his stare never left Aomine's shadowed figure tucked against the stairway railing. A mirthless smile pulled his cheeks tight, "How convenient. Aomine Daiki, in the flesh."

A beat of silence rolled between the group, but Aomine's expression didn't budge. He stared down at Torio with the look you'd give a broken toy. Indifference, boredom, disgust. It made something ugly crawl over Torio's face, an odd mix of confusion and fury.

Aomine's shoulders rolled, his head tilting slightly as he assessed Torio, "I don't know you."

Momoi skipped down the last two steps, coming to a stop next to Hana, "But I do. Torio Kano. Junior at Kirisaki Daiichi High School, current manager. Treasurer of the student committee, and former captain of Teiko's second string basketball team," her stare drilled into Torio's face with a dead sort of apathy, "His specialty is manipulation."

Hana gaped, shock making her tongue lax. Why was that attractive? When she finished, Momoi cut a worried look at her face before her dainty hand intertwined with Hana's own. Okay, no. Not time for a sexuality crisis. She squeezed once, stepping closer to Hana's shoulder in a show of silent support.

"Captain to manager," Aomine scoffed, tilting his head and dismissing Torio with nothing more than a flat huff of air, "Makes sense. I wouldn't remember someone so worthless."

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, Hana watched how the admission rocked through Torio's already perilous stability. I applaud the low blow, Aomine, but I'd rather not get stabbed today. Face to face with one of the boys he hated so much and denied the humblest form of recognition, the pure loathing that slowly overtook her former captain's face was noxious in its intensity.

"Dangerous words," Torio hummed as he forced another smile over his face. The edges were too sharp, "You should always be aware of your enemies."

The threat sank into the air— turning the space between them into poison, laden with tension.

A harsh laugh barked through the air, "My enemy?" A savage sneer cut through Aomine's cheeks, "You think you're worth my acknowledgment? You're nothing."

Before Torio could get a word out edgewise, another masculine chuckle broke the air, "Five minutes and you're already causing trouble, Aomine-kun."

The former miracle's shoulders immediately relaxed. The tension dripped off his skin as fast as it appeared as Aomine tilted his head over his head, eyes devoid of emotion tracking the new arrivals, "You call this trouble? You've got to be kidding me."

"I can't argue with that assessment," light reflecting off his glasses, Imayoshi Shoichi turned his genial smile in Torio's direction as he made his way down the stairwell, "Ah, Torio-kun. It's been a while."

"Imayoshi," Torio greeted, but it was devoid of any mirth. Hana scoffed. Looked like his games weren't so fun when they didn't fall in his favor. She caught the way his left foot shuffled backward, putting space between himself and the growing group.

Yeah. Her eyes narrowed on his face, cataloging the way his brow twitched. Run bitch.

"I see Makoto's still having someone do the dirty work for him. How dull," Imayoshi made it to the bottom of the stairs, his pale hands tucked deep in his blazer, "I was surprised to see one of his teammates here so soon, but judging from what we've witnessed, it all makes sense now."

Having crept down the steps, Sakurai hovered at his back, peeking behind Imayoshi's shoulder with a worried frown, "He's from Kirisaki Daiichi? Why is he here?"

"Good question, Sakurai-kun," Imayoshi smiled, but it was a sharp thing, "I hope you'll tell Makoto I say hello."

The sudden standoff was slowly beginning to feel like a territory war between feral cats. There was so much being said that wasn't verbal and Hana could hardly keep up. Stare ping-ponging between the two juniors, she grit her teeth. There was a weird taint to the air— something electric, but too murky to be energy. Feel like I'm about to drown from all the damn testosterone.

Surprisingly, Torio broke first.

"I'll be sure to do that," He took a slow step back. A cruel grin blossomed over his face as he winked in Imayoshi's direction, "He'll be interested to hear about the company you've started keeping. Never knew you were such a white knight."

What a dick. Hana scoffed, her lip curling over her teeth in a mockery of a snarl. I'm going to murder you and your little boyband of dipshits. Momoi made a quieting noise beside her, but it was only Aomine's sharp look that forced Hana to bite her tongue.

"I'm only keeping the peace," Imayoshi shrugged, his thin shoulders arching gracefully, "You never know when an ally may come in handy."

Walking back down the hall, Torio laughed grimly, "Always pragmatic. Enjoy your win, Imayoshi," as he reached the end of the hall, he propped his hand against the corner of the wall and cut a sharp smile toward Hana's direction, "I'll see you soon, flower."

"I'll pass," she deadpanned, squeezing Momoi's hand in reassurance when she made a dissenting noise, "I'd rather suffocate in my own shit."

It took everything Hana had not to wince at the comeback. Alright, settle down girl. That's nasty. Momoi made a disgusted noise, but it was Aomine's snort that had Hana's back straightening in quiet confidence. Again, the interaction didn't go unnoticed.

Moving his gaze between the three of them, Torio's nose lifted in a sneer before he turned his back on the group and disappeared down the hall. He didn't look back once. This isn't over. Hana had enough sense to make a mental note to consider the implications of his submission later.

As his shadow finally vanished, Imayoshi made an amused sound from the back of his throat, "Elegant. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from you, Imamura-chan."

The address jolted Hana out of her thoughts. She blinked, once then twice before realizing Imayoshi was speaking to her directly. She squinted at him, trying to suss out his intentions, "You shouldn't have?"

"Of course not, it would be foolish to rule out such an interesting player," Hana was pretty sure he was smiling, but she couldn't really tell. Imayoshi just had one of those faces, "I'm looking forward to working with you in the future."

Sakurai squeaked in the background, his eyes going wide at the statement. You know, kind of getting why Torio skedaddled. Twisting her face into something bland, Hana gave the older captain a dry look. That felt less like a compliment and more like a very ill-hidden insult.

Before anyone had a chance to do more than stare at one another, a brash yell echoed from the stadium, "Imamura-chan!"

I'm dead. Hana threw her head up to the ceiling with a muffled curse, "Damn it. Riko's going to have my ass."

"I believe that's our cue to leave, Sakurai," Imayoshi hummed, a humored little noise as he turned toward the hallway Torio'd previously disappeared down, "I'd personally like to leave before Seirin discovers the whereabouts of their lost manager."

They didn't get much farther than five feet before Hana came up with an albeit stupid plan. It slammed into her like a freight and once it sunk its hooks into her brain, she wasn't about to let it escape. If she had any chance of outmatching Kirisaki Daiichi and Torio, she'd have to scrounge up all the help she could get. Pride be damned.

"Imayoshi!" Hana called out after his back, swallowing her nerves when he directed a serene smile over his shoulder, "Can I call you later?"

Okay, she probably should have phrased that better.

"What?" Aomine balked, his arms uncrossing from his chest to flop against his hips, "You want to call him?" He scoffed at her, unimpressed at the glare she cut his way. He whispered when he thought she couldn't hear, "How many more do you need, woman?"

Oh, screw you. That was entirely uncalled for. Hana cut him a dark look, "Go eat a dick—"

"Of course, Imamura-chan," Imayoshi chuckled at their interaction, pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose to peg her with an amused look, "Momoi-san can give you my number. After all, an enemy of my enemy is a friend, correct?"

Well, that sure didn't sound promising. Did he have to put so much emphasis on enemy?

"Correct," Hana swallowed, ignoring the way Aomine's stare burned against her forehead, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," the rest of his parting echoed around the corner as he and Sakurai disappeared, "I look forward to seeing you while we're in the Winter Cup."

Alright, yup. That was backhanded as shit. As he left, Hana had the distinct realization she may have bit off more than she could chew. Think on the bright side, Hana. It'll piss Hanamiya off.

Before she could fully wrap her head around the parting, her arms were stocked full with a frantic woman. Momoi's outlandishly strong arms wrapped around Hana's neck and pulled her into what could only be called a chokehold, wet tear tracks leaking down her neck and into her tank top, "Ima-chan! What were you thinking!"

"It wasn't—" Momoi's arms tightened and Hana's knees buckled, her own hand latching onto the other manager's shoulders to not fall over, "I'm fine, Momoi!"

"That was so stupid!" A small palm smacked Hana in the arm as Momoi continued to fuss, red-tinged eyes peering down at Hana's gaping face in disappointment, "You're being careless! He could have really hurt you and then what would we have done!"

Her mouth opened, "He wasn't—"

"There were cameras Imamura-chan! You would have been arrested!"

Okay, true. Not important right now, but fair enough.

"He threatened you!" Hana finally spit out, hands clenching against Momoi's shoulders as she explained. Pink eyes locked with green and Hana had to swallow to rid the lump from her throat, "He threatened all of you—" she hesitated, "He said he was going to hurt Midorima in their match this weekend."

She still needed to figure out what to do about that. It needed to be soon too. With the first round of preliminaries finished, she had less than twenty-four hours to figure out her game plan and how to explain it to Riko. God, I should have chosen soccer club. She was sure they didn't have to deal with this shit.

Aomine's spine straightened with an aborted jerk as Momoi gasped, "— What?"

Taking a deep breath, Hana sighed. This is where it gets messy.

"He hates you guys," she couldn't meet the other manager's eye, instead directing her gaze to Aomine's hulking figure, "His team is awful. All of them— I can't let that happen. I don't care if it gets me in trouble," blue eyes met green and Hana glowered, "If he hurts you, I'm going to kill him."

"Ima-chan—" Momoi whispered, "You're so—"

You know, Hana expected some type of revulsion at that admittance. Worry, maybe? Instead, Momoi was staring down at her like Hana had singlehandedly hung all the stars in the sky and baptized a school full of orphan children. Oh god, she flinched as her eyes welled with tears. Please don't start crying again.

If she did, Hana wasn't given a chance to see it.

A heavy palm landed on her shoulder, closer to her neck than her arm, and Hana tilted her head back. She wasn't sure what she expected to see, but it wasn't Aomine scowling down at her like the devil's personal bodyguard, "Quit being so stupid."

That's your response to this?! She glared, teeth bared, "Fu—"

"No one's telling you to do it yourself, idiot. I've been saying that from the start of this shit," he stepped closer, the heat of his chest against her back. A dark, feral smile cut through his cheeks and Hana really hoped he wasn't trying to look reassuring. If I thought regular Aomine was terrifying, blood-thirsty Aomine is even worse.

His words sank in slowly, Hana having to take a second to blink through the meaning of what he just offered. She stared up at him, narrow green eyes tracing over his face for an ulterior motive, "You're offering to help me? Who died?"

"Exactly!" Momoi nodded fast, pink hair smacking into Hana's face without mercy. Hana didn't miss the way she skipped over the second part of her question, "We can help! They're our friends too!"

Oh god, that was too cute. Power of friendship at work. Stuck like a broken puppet, Hana could do nothing except let Momoi twirl her into a hug. Her chest felt hot—a happy, gross kind of hot. She really needed to take some time between games to go to the doctor. This weird affection thing couldn't be healthy for her.

Aomine made a noise, disagreeing with the terminology, but didn't verbally deny it. Instead, he squeezed Hana's shoulder, dull fingernails scraping her skin, "Stop bitching already and deal with it. You're the one that dragged us into this mess."

Well, that solved the affection issue, "I didn't drag you into shit—"

"Sure," Aomine rolled his eyes, letting go of her shoulder to tug roughly at one of her pigtails, "I've never met anyone more of a trouble magnet than Tetsu."

Hana would have thrown her hands up if Momoi didn't still have her trapped in a bearhug, "I had it handled—"

With another rough pull of her hair, Aomine scoffed, "You were about to punch him in the face, Imamura."

"It would have," Hana growled, teeth bared in half a snarl, "been well deserved! And quit touching me!"

He only yawned, "Can you even throw a proper punch?"

"— how about I show you?!"

Neither one of them heard the subtle throat clearing behind them but Momoi did. Tearing her eyes away from the duo's bantering, her pink eyes flew wide at the sight of Seirin stuffed into the hallway. Their coach led the charge, slim hands propped against her hips as she observed the spectacle with a rapidly expanding scowl.

Either unknowing or ignoring the tension of his teammates, Kuroko waved from the back of the group, "Good afternoon, Momoi-san."

"Uhm, hi everyone! Guys—" With a pointed elbow jab, Momoi tried to interrupt their bickering, "Guys, we have company—"

When that still didn't stop the arguing, Momoi assorted to drastic measures—smacking Aomine against the top of his head. It served its purpose. He jerked up with a curse before he caught sight of their new audience, a sneer immediately growing on his face when he saw Kagami, "You."

Oh, shit. Hana twisted her attention over her shoulder, blood draining from her face. I'm dead.

"You!" Kagami parroted. Pushing past Izuki and Hyuuga, he jumped to the front of the huddle and jabbed an accusing finger in Hana's direction, "What the hell are you doing with him, Hana?!"

She opened her mouth once then twice before the reality of her position sank in. She peered down at the pale arms around her waist and swallowed. This does not look good. Momoi's arms were still wrapped around her like a chokehold and Aomine's hulking figure was nearly bent over their back from the fervor of their argument, his face uncomfortably close to her own. Add in the dark stairway and it didn't paint a pretty picture.

A blush burnt up her chest and over her neck.

"This is not what it looks like."


Love you guys.

Thanks for sticking with me!