A/N: Thank you so much for all your feedback. If there's a beta-reader among the readers who would be interested to work on this story, then I would gladly appreciate your help. I have already finished writing the first draft of the entire story (except for the extra story), and now I am working on rewriting and editing them before posting them. I hope you'll find this chapter to your liking. Enjoy!

Warnings: Unbeta-ed. May still contain OOC-ness, grammatical errors, and misspells.

Part 2: Innocent Days

Ever since that night, Akashi Seijūrō would be often seen during his free time talking to the fish. At first, no one minded him, but when the servants started hearing spontaneous bouts of laughter coming from the direction of the pond, they thought that the stress of losing his mother, and having a very strict father, had finally caught up with the poor boy. Pity welled in their hearts, and they did their best to be extra kind to the young master by giving him sweets, smiles, and a lot of praises. Seijūrō thought that the change in his household was very weird and suspicious, but that thought was quickly replaced with thoughts of games he was planning to teach his pet.

It was two weeks after the odd fish was brought home that they came to a conclusion that their young master was turning mad. It was one Saturday morning when the young master suddenly burst out from his room with his shogi board in hand, went out to the pond, and -to everyone's horror and alarm- tossed his shogi board to the pond before he promptly challenged the fish to a match. The servants, troubled by their young master's pitiful state, finally reported the boy's weird behavior to the master of the house. They would have wanted to spare the boy from his father's punishment, but their love for the boy and his well-being won over, and they hoped that the master would be able to bring back some sense to the poor lad. But contrary to what they expected, Mr. Akashi merely shrugged it off and told them that it was just a phase. Kana, however, was unconvinced.

"I beg your pardon, Master Akashi, sir," said she, "but I think your child needs help. He should be playing with kids his age, not pouring over books and questions that are ought to be left for high school. And now, he thinks that the fish is his friend! A fish, mind you! It would have been a little better if it were a dog instead, but that's not my point. My point is, he ought to be playing with kids his age."

But Mr. Akashi masterfully steered the topic and made a very convincing argument that in no way was the fish detrimental to his son's well-being. In fact, it was the other way around. He started going on about statistics, graphs, and charts on his son's performance and compared it to his previous data. The servants didn't really understand a thing, but they were nonetheless astounded and more than intimidated by the graphs and figures.

"I appreciate your concern, Kana," he said after his long presentation. "However, you should realize that it will be hard for him to have normal friends of his age. Even his choice of games: chess, shogi, and igo, are not attractive games for children. Seijūrō is an intelligent child. I believe that he is capable of making sound decisions, and that includes his choice of companions."

"I respect your opinion since you are practically the one who raised Seijūrō," he continued. "If you still have any misgivings, I shall ask Seijūrō to consider playing a competitive team sport in the near future. The competition will keep him entertained. And since it will be team sport, he will have learn to put up with different types of people– which is what you want for him. But for now, don't you think that he's acting more like his young age when he's playing with his fish?"

Thus ended their discussion with Akashi Masaomi's complete victory. However, Kana's womanly instincts was telling her that underneath her master's complete confidence in his son, it was possible that the master was just trying to avoid dealing with the said son. Her master had always been an awkward father.

...

Meanwhile, Seijūrō was having his patience tried on teaching shogi to his unmotivated fish. He knew that Tetsuya was intelligent enough to learn the game; after all, it learned how to play three-in-a-row in only three days, which he thought was quite a feat for a fish (since there were no past records of fishes successfully learning board games to compare with Tetsuya's progress). He loved shogi, and he was determined to show the fish why he thought that the game was best board game ever invented. Tetsuya, however, was completely uninterested with the game, and would often times ruin the setup and swim far from the boy, which would mark the end of their shogi session for the day. However, it was to Tetsuya's misfortune that as stubborn as it was, Seijūrō was the more stubborn one. He would not admit defeat since he's been taught that an Akashi must never fail. It was thus on the seventh day that Seijūrō was finally reduced to bribery. He declared, "Tetsuya, if you will make an effort to learn shogi, then I shall reward you generously."

It was no surprise that on the next day, Seijūrō found that a pawn piece was moved from 1c to 1d. He was so pleased that he immediately summoned for Kana– to the woman's dread– and asked her to accompany him in choosing a special dinner for his pet. The experience was so terrifying that Kana could still recall the events even after years of trying to forget that memory...

...

It was on a dark and cloudy– and foreboding– Wednesday afternoon that a reluctant Kana and an overly-enthusiastic Seijūrō– who Kana could even hear humming– visited a pet store that was nearest to Seijūrō's school. A very friendly middle-aged woman greeted them behind the counter and asked them about their errand. Kana could still remember the events too clearly for her liking.

"I would like to buy a few small fish for a friend," her young master declared, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

The woman just smiled at him sweetly. "Ain't that a sweet lad. I hope your friend will like it." Then the woman called her coworker: a dark-skinned younger woman with short-cropped hair, who she guessed was a college student working part time. "If you'd please follow Kei-chan here, she'll lead you to the aquariums. You can ask her anything you want."

The younger woman, Kei, led them inside a room that held an impressive display of fishes and other aquatic animals. Her young charge set off at once to examine the contents of each tank.

"What may you be looking for?" inquired their aid. Her speech had a faint but distinct accent found only in the southern provinces. She must have come a long way in order to study in Tōkyō, and that was something Kana can relate, herself coming from Fukui before she entered in the service of the Akashi household in Kyōto and moved with them to Tōkyō.

"Something very small since Tetsuya is still young. I heard that Tetsuya's kind are fond of minnows. Could you show me some?"

"His kind? His family, you might mean?"

Seijūrō smiled sweetly. "You could say that." Kana suddenly felt a chill run through her, but their guide didn't seem to notice it.

"That sounds nice," said Kei. "Minnows, eh? Not only are they easy to keep, but they also make fine baits. We have three kinds here, I think: the White Cloud, the Rosy Red, and the European Minnow. I personally recommend the red ones; they'll look real pretty inside your friend's tank. Here, let me show em to you."

As Kei led them to the right tank and Seijūrō studied the pinkish minnows, Kana fervently hoped that her misgivings were unfounded. But that was not to be; Akashi Seijūrō was not impressed. Seijūrō demanded to be shown the other minnows, and found them all unremarkable.

"They don't look... tasty enough," her young charge said. "I think I'll have to introduce Tetsuya to the finer things of life."

"I think minnows do just fine," Kana thought. "They'll probably be eaten anyway, and I don't think that scary fish would know anything about fine dining."

But their guide just chuckled. "Tasty? Kids sure have some way with words. I remember when I was a young lass, ol' aunt Hina hit me hard when I told her that her precious koi looks yummy." Kana noted with amusement when their Kei's accent grew thicker when she mentioned her aunt. "So, what might your friend like?"

"Hmm." Seijūrō seemed deep in thought. The young boy had a habit of crossing his arms and tapping his index finger when he was thinking. "Based from my experience, the price usually guarantees the quality, which means that they are bound to be tasty. Because I am feeling generous, I think I'll have your most expensive ones."

"I don't think a fish would know the difference," retorted Kana inside her head, though she would never dare say it out loud.

"My, this Tetsuya sure is a lucky fella," said Kei. "But are you sure that your friend can take care of em?"

Seijūrō grinned. "Yup. Tetsuya's family is very experienced with dealing fishes."

"They are predatory fish too," added Kana inside her head.

"Alright, that sounds good enough. Now if you'd please point out which ones you'll be having..."

"I'd like the smallest ones, if possible. And I'd like to inspect them first to make sure that they are of the finest quality."

Kei let out a small laugh. "Don't worry, young sir. Our provider is very trustworthy," she assured. " Everything here is of high quality."

"What a pity," thought Kana. If only their aid knew what was the fate of those fishes, she wouldn't have had that smile on her face as she enthusiastically scooped out the fishes and packed them on individual containers for her capricious customer.

They ended up buying 46 fishes, all very attractive and expensive; all to feed one scary fish. Kana shuddered.

...

If only Kana knew that not everything would fall accordingly to his young master's designs, then she wouldn't have felt so bad about the fate of the fishes they bought. But because her presence was not needed during the actual feeding (to her utmost relief), she missed out the fact that there was another powerful being in that household that was capable of defying the young master: the fish called "Kuroko Tetsuya".

It was right after they arrived home that Seijūrō placed all the fishes in a wooden bucket and went to see Tetsuya. He was very proud of his accomplishment, and he wanted to show it off at once.

"Tetsuya, come here," he called. "I have your present with me."

The fish was surprisingly obedient; it must have been anticipating its reward. It excited Seijūrō. He knew that flounders like Tetsuya ate other smaller fishes, but he had not seen it in person yet.

"You are very lucky that I am your owner. Tonight, I shall treat you to a feast!" He lifted up the bucket, and poured all its contents into the pond! The fishes quickly scattered. "Go on, eat to your heart's content!" The boy, not wanting to miss out the action, leaned with his hands on the ground and stared expectantly at Tetsuya.

Seijūrō expected Tetsuya to do what flounders loved to do: to hunt. He knew through research that flounders camouflage themselves with sand at the bottom to ambush their prey. But his fish didn't move; instead it just continued to stare at him.

"What are you waiting for, Tetsuya?" he pointed at the fishes swimming away. "The larger koi might take them first if you won't act now." Still, there was no sign that the fish was moving anytime soon. Seijūrō withdrew his hand and studied his fish. "Are you, perhaps, that overwhelmed by my gift?" he tried. "Surely you haven't tasted such a wide variety of fishes, all of excellent quality. I'm sure that you haven't tried most, if not all of them, since these fishes were specially bred. I doubt that you can even find them under your sea."

The fish finally moved, and Seijūrō was delighted. But to his bewilderment, the fish swam towards him instead. Then, SPLASH! Seijūrō found that his face was now wet. The fish quickly swam off before the boy could come back to his senses.

Seijūrō was flabbergasted. "Did you just do what I think you did?" He rose with fists clenched and glared at the direction where his ungrateful pet swam. "Did you just threw water at my face?" he accused. However, the fish was smart enough not to answer– not that it could without showing itself– and did not leave its hiding place. Seijūrō was mad. "Confound it all, you miserable sea critter! After all that I have done for you, you dare repay me with disrespect?" He waited for any indication that the fish was listening, but found none. Then he felt really stupid because he realized that he was actually getting into an argument with a fish. The fish probably did not even know what it had done to deserve his ire. Perhaps he had expected too much from the fish; no matter how intelligent it was, a fish was still a fish. His anger bated down, but his annoyance still persisted. "Fine, be that way," he ground out. "See if I'll ever give you something again."

He was about to turn and leave when he caught sight of his thankless fish swimming back towards him. His pet held a dead root in its mouth, and what was more baffling was the presence of two other fishes he had bought earlier, and were now nibbling at the ends of the root.

"You shouldn't befriend your food; it will only end in tragedy," the boy recited sagely.

The fish dropped the root and the smaller fishes swam away.

"See? Even your new friends left you. You're better off with just me."

The fish turned and splashed at his direction again. He sighed. "It seems that you didn't like my present. Why?"

The fish only picked up the discarded root, nibbled on it, and dropped it once more. Seijūrō raised a skeptic brow at the incredulous display. "You are kidding me." The fish just stared at him unblinkingly, which unnerved him, before he remembered that fishes do not blink– except for sharks.

"You know, flounders like you need to eat fish if they want to grow healthy," he chastised. He thought that a tactic that was commonly used on children would be more effective to a fish that acted the same way. There was still no reply from the fish, so he pressed on. "You shouldn't be picky with food. Even I have some that I don't want, like seaweed, but I still eat them."

The fish swam and disappeared out of sight, then reappeared with a seaweed on its mouth. Then it ate it.

"Are you trying to provoke me?"

The fish quickly dropped the half-eaten seaweed.

"Eat the fish," he ordered.

The fish moved. It swam upwards, then downwards, then cut a diagonal to the upper right, and down again, before it cut again another diagonal to the upper left. Then it stopped and turned to him. Seijūrō recognized that the fish just did a figure of eight, just like how he taught it to do. Earlier that week, Seijūrō and Tetsuya agreed on a new gesture: Tetsuya would swim around in circles in agreement, or swim in figures of eight otherwise. He was a little proud at the current display, but his annoyance with its defiance remained greater.

"Just eat the fish!" he ordered. "That's what I bought them for!"

This time the fish splashed at his direction.

He sighed, tired of arguing with the fish. "Sticking on a vegetarian diet would do you no good. You should act your species and eat fish."

The fish formed another figure of eight.

"You refuse to eat it? You are the queerest flounder I've ever seen."

This time, the fish swam in a circle.

"That was not particularly meant as a compliment."

The fish swam in a circle again.

Seijūrō just shook his head and gave it up. "You aren't cute at all, Kuroko Tetsuya."

That was how the boy and his fish had their first fight, and how Seijūrō experienced his first defeat. To Seijūrō's chagrin, Tetsuya still continued its strict vegetarian diet even after he tried to dissuade it many times after. Nevertheless, they always mended their friendship over a game of underwater shogi, wherein Tetsuya kept on making moves that were illegal and moves that were out of his turn; in fact, it seemed that the fish was only interested with pushing the tiles out of the board.

...

Those were only a few of the many ups and downs of Seijūrō and Tetsuya's strange friendship. The first few weeks were the most difficult, especially for the servants who had to cope up with their young master's ever changing moods. But as time passed, Seijūrō got used to his pet and regained back his... what they dubbed was his normal behavior– all to the relief of the servants and his father.

To the Akashi household, they could finally see that the fish had a positive effect on the young master. The servants saw that Seijūrō was happier, and the master found that his son was excelling even more in school and in his extra lessons. The master regarded with pride the increasing number of gold trophies and medals in his son's study room.

On the other hand, to Seijūrō himself, Tetsuya provided the much needed distraction from his very stressful life. If he were to describe it, it was like talking to a plant, only that Tetsuya was more responsive and a lot more amusing than plants. He would often wonder aloud beside his mother's prone form if that was what it felt like having a pet. He wondered once how it would feel like to have a more domesticated pet, like a dog or a cat, instead of a fish, but he quickly dismissed it. He would die first before someone would catch him hugging a dog or a cat; at least a fish was cold, literally and figuratively. The same could be said with talking to a fish or a plant, but Tetsuya was different; Tetsuya was far more intelligent than the koi in their pond, and was far more interesting– and even exasperating at times– than their obedient guard dogs. Tetsuya was simply one of a kind, and he badly wished that his mother could see his pet too.

Thus the boy and his fish developed a nightly ritual of talking, though it was only the boy who was doing the actual talking. Seijūrō would talk about his school, teachers, classmates, and the strange theories he had about anything that he knew. He also loved to have a one-sided discussion with the fish, especially about his theories. And lastly, they developed a shogi ritual. Before the night would end, Seijūrō would make a move and give Tetsuya the whole night to think about its move. Come morning, Seijūrō would find that Tetsuya had already made its move. He would make another move before he prepared for school, and the fish would have made its move before he returned from school. On weekends, however, the number of moves they made depended on Tetsuya's pace. Their matches went like that, until Tetsuya was either defeated, or would resign by ruining the game.

On Seijūrō's elementary graduation, he was surprised that his father had a gazebo built in the middle of their pond. It was round, and had a red-tiled roof that matched the traditional style of their house. The wooden bridge that connected to it was arched, and the top of its rails were painted red. Seijūrō's favorite feature was the inside of the gazebo, where, on its center was about a meter wide square hole that would let him view the bottom of the pond. It was the perfect size for Tetsuya. He sincerely thanked his father, to which his father's only reply was that the gazebo's design was based on the 'mon' coin for good luck. Seijūrō didn't point out to his father that neither he, nor his father, believed in luck.

The gazebo quickly became Seijūrō's and Tetsuya's special place. Often times, the boy would be found in the gazebo, sometimes practicing his violin, and other times doing his homework. Most times, the boy would just be talking about his new middle school, his new friends, and the basketball club that he recently joined. At rare times, he would ask the fish for his advice, which was a very challenging feat to achieve since the fish could only answer with either a yes, a no, or a splash that also served as an act of indignation or reprimand. It was apparent to all who could see that boy had formed the most peculiar and unique friendship with the odd fish.

...

For the longest time, the gazebo only saw Seijūrō and the fish as its guests– except for the servants who cleaned it at least once a day. It was a day in summer that brought a change to that. It was Seijūrō's first summer vacation in Teikō middle school, and the boy brought home friends with him for the first time.

The first other friendly human that Tetsuya met was a tanned male with midnight blue hair. The fish had quickly taken a liking to the other boy because his hair reminded it of the color of its home deep down the ocean. The boy was grumpily reading a colorful book filled with pictures of women, and soon became quiet when his entire attention was turned to the book. Seijūrō was nowhere in sight, so Tetsuya took the initiative to introduce itself to the boy's guest. The fish went under the gazebo and directly below the square hole, and with a splash of its tail on the water, it tried to get the other boy's attention.

Perhaps it was too effective because as soon as the other boy heard the splash and turned towards the sound, the boy suddenly let out a high-pitched shriek and stood up. In his surprise, the colorful book flew from his hand, up behind him, and sunk down deep into the pond.

Seijūrō was quick to rush to the scene, and with him were three other humans with green, purple, and pink hair. It was the oddest colors of hair that the fish had ever seen on humans. Tetsuya first thought that Seijūrō had the most unnatural hair color on humans, so it was well surprised to find out that there were queerer humans besides its self-proclaimed owner. "If Seijūrō-kun hangs out with queer humans for friends," it thought, " then it's no wonder why he's very queer!"

It was Seijūrō who spoke up first. "It seems that you've met Tetsuya," said he. The blue-haired boy didn't respond but continued to eye the fish warily.

"I did the introductions myself," was what the proud fish wanted to say.

"Why is Mine-chin the earliest?" asked the purple-haired boy. He was the tallest and largest among them, and Tetsuya immediately thought that he was their school leader. But then, it thought that even if Seijūrō was relatively small compared to the other humans in the house, everyone obeyed him, which could mean that Seijūrō was also a school leader. The fish thought that humans were the most confusing creatures.

"Actually, it's my fault," the pink-hared girl gave a sheepish smile. "I gave him the wrong time on purpose. "

"And for a good reason. Good call, Satsuki," approved Seijūrō.

The pink-headed girl only gave a thankful nod in return. Then she turned to the blue-haired boy who stood stock-still. "Dai-chan, is there something–"

"Satsuki, don't go near it!" the blue-haired boy burst out all of the sudden.

The girl paused to see what the other boy meant, and her eyes fell upon the black fish. She turned to it and studied it carefully. The fish felt as if her eyes bore deep into its scales, revealing everything about it including its last meal. The fish felt intimidated, and it was right to do so because there were a lot of species wherein the females were more aggressive than their male counterparts. What it didn't know was that the girl had realized something, and that the way she eyed at the fish was far from threatening– albeit it could still be categorized as aggressive.

"That fish... is the friend, Kuroko Tetsuya?" asked the green-haired boy who was holding a fake-looking chick. He was nervously shifting the odd contraption on his eyes, which the fish would find out much later that it was called glasses.

Tetsuya thought that the green-haired boy's doubts were only right. "You shouldn't befriend your food," was what Seijūrō often said, and according to the food chain, fish were human food. Tetsuya briefly wondered why it wasn't afraid of humans, or other predators for that matter, and thought that perhaps its survival instincts were very flawed. It would have liked to continue its inner debate, but that would have to wait for another time when it was alone. Then it realized that its thoughts were starting to sound more and more like Seijūrō with his appetite for debates. It quickly turned back to their conversation.

"Interesting fish, isn't it?" said Seijūrō.

Now the green-haired boy shifted on his place and glanced at the entrance. He seemed to hesitate. "I–"

"Mido-chin thought that Kuro-chin was a kid you kidnapped to be your playmate," the purple-haired boy interrupted. Then he said as an afterthought, "Aka-chin, Kuro-chin doesn't look tasty at all."

The fish appreciated that the boy thought that he was not good enough to eat, and since not being eaten was always a good thing, the fish even took it as a compliment. Seijūrō, however, didn't sound like he appreciated it as much as he did.

"Murasakibara, Tetsuya is not for eating," admonished Seijūrō.

"Maybe that's why he doesn't get along well with the other humans," Tetsuya thought. "Seijūrō-kun is just socially awkward."

"Tetsuya," Seijūrō commanded the fish's attention, "here is Midorima Shintarō, Murasakibara Atsushi, Satsuki Momoi, and Aomine Daiki. They are my basketball teammates." He motioned his hand over each of his friends as he called their names. "Everyone, meet Kuroko Tetsuya, my pet flounder."

Midorima, the green-haired boy, warily stared at Seijūrō as if he was suddenly going to snap, which would be a pretty much normal occurrence for Tetsuya who had seen a lot of the red-haired boy's weird moments. On the other hand, Satsuki, the pink-haired girl, continued to stare at Tetsuya with adoration– which the fish took as threatening since it felt the same as how a predator would eye its prey– while Aomine, the blue-haired boy, stared at the same fish with apprehension. Lastly, Murasakibara, the purple-haired and the tallest boy, just continued snacking on his potato chips that he brought with him.

"Your pet has a very interesting name," commented Midorima. "It also didn't escape me that you introduced us to him first, not that I mind it or anything," he added the last part hastily.

"So this Tetsu-kun is the one you're trying to teach Shogi?" asked Satsuki. Her curiosity was piqued.

"Fish can't play shogi," Murasakibara absentmindedly remarked. "Ah, but if it's Aka-chin teaching, then maybe it can." The purple-haired giant seriously believed that even pigs could fly as long as they were under Akashi Seijūrō's tutelage.

"It's impossible for fish to learn Shogi. They simply don't have the capacity," stated Midorima with no nonsense. The fish seemed to take offense because it lifted its tail and splashed at Midorima's direction, to which the boy just dismissed as a fishy gesture(no puns intended).

"But I saw a stone shogi board under the pond. We passed by it earlier. It was an ongoing game," said Satsuki. "Besides, I feel that this fish is special."

"Perceptive as ever, Satsuki," praised Seijūrō. "You are correct. Right now, Tetsuya is still having difficulties with differentiating promoted units, but I know that given time, Tetsuya has the potential to beat at least Aomine."

That seemed to bring Aomine back to his senses. "Shit," he cursed, still eyeing the fish warily. "Akashi, you sure this thing doesn't bite? It looks big enough to chew your hand off. Dammit, and I just bought that magazine this morning," he complained.

"I doubt that a fish could be that intelligent," said Midorima who, again, shifted his glasses. " But I could see that it's perceptive enough to be... observing us like that." True enough, the fish was eyeing them with curiosity– and dare he say, intelligence– and it almost reminded Midorima of the dolphins in the public aquariums. "Is that why you bought it, Akashi?" asked Midorima.

"No," Seijūrō answered truthfully. "At that time, I was only interested for its mythical properties. It is said that Tetsuya's kind can grant wishes."

"That doesn't sound like you, Akashi-kun," remarked Satsuki. "Myths and fate-altering items are more like Midorima's thing. But now I'm getting more curious..." The fish didn't like the way the girl was eyeing it more intensely than before.

"Fuck, Satsuki, stay away from that ugly thing!" shouted Aomine when Satsuki moved closer to the fish.

The fish inwardly liked the fact that it had so much power over Aomine. Seijūrō, however, seemed displeased. "Aomine, that was uncalled for."

"Don't be like that, Dai-chan," reprimanded Satsuki. " Tetsu-kun is a gentle creature. He won't bite. Besides, he's not ugly. In fact, it's the opposite: he is very beautiful," said Satsuki. Midorima choked and Aomine blanched.

"Oi, Satsuki, are you blind? How could you call that ugly thing beautiful?" Aomine said with incredulity.

Satsuki ignored him. She knelt down at the edge of the hole and raised a hand. "Can I touch him, Akashi-kun?"

To Tetsuya's horror, Seijūrō gave his approval. "You may, but please avoid the head. Tetsuya's left eye has started shifting to the right, which took a lot later than I expected. It might be a little sensitive, so let me help you." Seijūrō knelt beside Satsuki and firmly held Tetsuya's sides. "And Aomine, calm down. It won't bite. It's even hardly two-feet long."

"He, not 'it'. Tetsu-kun is male," Satsuki corrected Seijūrō, and the boy accepted her correction even if he knew that 'it' was also grammatically acceptable. He never actually gave a serious thought about his pet's gender, nevertheless it delighted him to know. Perhaps he was getting more and more attached to his pet.

On the other hand, Tetsuya wanted nothing more than to swim away far and safe from their hot and uncomfortable hands. It- he knew that he could easily escape Seijūrō's grip, but he also didn't want to deal with the possible repercussions, especially if it will involve Seijūrō and all his nonsense trying. He fervently hoped that Seijūrō wouldn't let the girl eat him.

"It's something I asked my uncle when I was young," Satsuki continued. "He said that like birds and many animal species, in fishes, most males are more beautiful than their female counterparts." Satsuki was about to touch Tetsuya when suddenly, Aomine pulled back her hand. Tetsuya was growing more fond of Aomine.

Unfortunately, it only took one glare from the red-haired boy to make Aomine release her hand. "Fine, do whatever you want." He cast Satsuki a worried glance, but remained silent.

Satsuki was only too thrilled to touch Tetsuya. Her hands slid on one of his scales and gently scraped it with her nails. The fish squirmed." Hush, I won't harm you," she whispered. But the fish could feel her prodding and scratching his scales, which made his survival instincts kick in. He struggled hard, and was finally let go. Seijūrō commanded Tetsuya to come back at once, but the fish was hearing nothing of it.

"Aww, too bad," Satsuki whined at the loss. But then, she turned to her friends and triumphantly showed something black between her fingers. "These are just barnacles. He must have gotten it from his sea home. His new ringlets were clean, and I bet they will shine a different color when hit by the sun."

It was true indeed. Underneath the ugly matting of barnacles, Tetsuya's clean scales shone as black and lustrous as obsidian, and when hit by the sun at the right angle, part of his scales would take a pale blue shine that was the exact same color as his eyes. It would still be many months until Seijūrō would be able to clear out all the barnacles, but at that moment, Seijūrō and Satsuki knew that Tetsuya's scales was bound be most beautiful.

As for Tetsuya, he silently observed them from a safe distance. He thought that friendship among humans was a very noisy and rowdy thing. Before he met Seijūrō's friends, he thought that Seijūrō was the noisiest human. The boy would spend too much time talking, or forcing him to move tiles with squiggly black lines drawn on top. Also, unlike the females who actually cleaned his home (which they call a pond), Seijūrō did nothing but play games. But, the Seijūrō with his friends was a very different human. That Seijūrō was less talkative and didn't throw fits. Even more baffling for the fish was that even if Seijūrō was not the most talkative, nor the largest human in their group, and most definitely not the most hardworking, his friends still treated him with respect and obeyed him without question. Humans, the fish thought again, were the strangest creatures.

...

As time passed, the fish became more accustomed to the uncommon and unannounced visits of Seijūrō's friends. Aomine was his second favorite human next to Seijūrō, and he would always try to surprise or scare the boy at every chance. It took a while for Aomine to finally get over his fear of the fish and get used to his antics. Aomine once remarked about how Tetsuya shouldn't spend too much time with Seijūrō; the boy was genuinely frightened of how the fish was developing an 'Akashi' sense of humor.

Midorima, as Tetsuya observed, was closest to Seijūrō. The both of them often played shogi and held serious conversations which the fish couldn't follow. Midorima, however, was awkward when he was with Tetsuya. The boy would feel embarrassed whenever he tried talking to the fish, and he often claimed how stupid the entire thing was. Nevertheless, Tetsuya admired him. Tetsuya didn't believe in gods since fishes didn't have gods, but he believed that Midorima was somehow connected to the god of fortune. It explained why Midorima knew about a lot of things, including daily fate-altering items. It was also from Midorima that Tetsuya learned that he was not only a fish, a flounder, a he, and a Kuroko Tetsuya, but he was also an Aquarius. It came out of nowhere when Midorima suddenly asked Seijūrō about Tetsuya's birthday.

"I don't think that fishes have the same concept for birthdays as us," answered Seijūrō. "However, if I were to pick a date for it, then it shall be on the day I named him. It was past midnight after the auction which was held on... ah, 013013: January the 30th of 2013. Therefore, his new birthday shall be on the 31st January."

"An Aquarius," said Midorima. "How fitting."

According to Midorima, the reason why Tetsuya and Seijūrō got along so well was because of their signs, and it was for the same reason why Midorima and Tetsuya didn't, and wouldn't. Tetsuya really did not know about the significance of the signs, but while Midorima explained it, the boy looked so confident and sure that it was hard not believe him.

Murasakibara, on the other hand, was the most well-behaved and the most gentle of Seijūrō's friends; he didn't ask him a lot of questions, and he would remain quiet for most of the time. Sometimes, he would share his snacks to Tetsuya, which would always make Seijūrō snap and scold the giant, telling him that candies and junk food could actually kill fishes.

Out of all of Seijūrō's friends, Tetsuya found Satsuki the most threatening. She would always have that shine in her eyes that would make him think of how much she wanted him for dinner. He believed that the reason why Satsuki was holding back was because he wasn't fat enough. He was very grateful that he had stuck to his vegetarian diet.

The summer of Seijūrō's second year brought in a new friend named Kise Ryōta. Tetsuya thought that everything about Kise seemed to sparkle like his blond hair, and it made him think that he was the manliest human in their group. He thought that if Kise were a fish, then no female fish would be able to resist his sparkling coat of golden scales.

At first, the new boy was indifferent towards Tetsuya and was content to observe him from a distance, to which the fish was grateful for; answering the beck and call of five humans was already a very tiring job for the fish, especially when one of them was Seijūrō. But that changed when they roped Kise to ask him a question, to which his reply amused Kise to no end. Kise started to ask him to do some tricks like the dolphins in shows, and Tetsuya thought that having Kise was like having a pet that constantly needed attention. It wasn't long before Kise became Tetsuya's no.1 fan– along with Satsuki. There were times when the fish thought Kise was too much, but for most of the time, Kise's company was appreciated. Perhaps it was as Midorima said: Gemini and Aquarius would get along well.

Despite having met all of Seijūrō's friends, Seijūrō still remained as Tetsuya's favorite human. He learned to like Shogi not because of its odd rules, but rather because of the boy's company. And Seijūrō would talk to him at night about his day and about his friends that Tetsuya felt that he had experienced the whole day with the boy. Then he thought how it would be like to actually spend his day with Seijūrō: playing basketball with Seijūrō and his friends, and going to Teikō with all of them.

Tetsuya knew that Seijūrō was very fond of his friends, even if he wouldn't show it. That Seijuoro talked less, complained less, and demanded more, but he also had those small smiles and silent chuckles. Tetsuya found that he also liked that Seijūrō.

Little by little, the fish grew more and more fond of the times where all seven of them were together inside the gazebo. It even reached to the point where he was actually anticipating their visits. Human friendship, he thought, felt very nice.

Little did they know that the year after would bring about great changes that will bitterly test their bonds.