••••••••••••

Chapter Ten

So this is…

••••••••••••

The hustle and bustle of the dormitory's morning rush is muffled once Himuro closes the door behind him. The soon-to-retire captain of Yosen's formidable basketball team pads into his room, drying his wet hair with a towel and disposing of used clothes into the laundry basket along the way. Plopping down on his still unmade bed, Himuro picks up his phone to find two new messages waiting. Himuro smiles as he reads Murasakibara's confirmation of bringing over breakfast, replying with a smooching emoji before moving to the next one.

From: Alex
Subject: none
:: Heyy! Get online ASAP!

Eyeing the message's timestamp, Himuro sees that he is a few minutes late in reading it. He picks up a hair brush on the way to his study desk, sliding the wireless mouse across the surface to revive the laptop from sleep mode. As he waits for his account to sign in, Himuro fixes his hair with a towel wrapped around his shoulders to catch any wet drops that might soak into his tank top. While it is an uncontested notion that Himuro is meticulous about presenting himself, he doesn't find any need to hide his imperfections from Alex.

A video chat invitation appears the second Himuro puts his brush down, he accepts it and greets Alex with a smile. "Good morning, Alex… rather, good afternoon."

"Well don't you look excited?" Alex's image on screen gives a wide grin, speakers delivering her words without the usual static. "Slept well?"

"Surprisingly, I did," Himuro reveals as he dries the fringes of his hair with the towel. "I thought I'd be nervous but… I'm frightfully calm."

The warmth of Alex's expression isn't lost despite the pixelation on screen. "That's good to hear. I was worried that you'd be losing your cool before the match even starts but… I'm glad. You worked hard to get this far, Tatsuya. What a way to end your high school basketball career!"

"Alex…" Himuro chides gently and the glee in the blonde's expression chips off a little.

"Are you sure you don't want to pursue this professionally?" Alex lays down her question in a motherly fashion. "You have the skills and the means to do it, Tatsuya. I know how much you love playing, so why…"

"I already told you why," Himuro reminds her, placating.

Pursing her lips, Alex concedes to Himuro's stubborn stance.

"I'm not going to quit playing altogether." Himuro sends a smile in hopes of lifting up his dejected master. "It's just going to take a backseat while I get a university degree. I am aiming for a financially stable future, you know?"

At this point Alex isn't even hiding her pout. "Ahh. Why couldn't you have stayed young and impressionable?"

"You can still work on Taiga, y'know?" Himuro says breezily. "He's very impressionable."

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Alex's next words come out sly.

Himuro checks himself not to give anything away, tucking back strands of hair over his right ear. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Aha!" Alex smirks in triumph, pointing her finger at him (well, at his image on her screen, at least). "You did the thing! You always do that hair thing when you're avoiding something."

Maintaining his composure, Himuro opens a web browser and checks his email while keeping the chat box on top. "Enlighten me."

"Taiga told me all about what you did," Alex presses.

"Uh-huh, for his problems to reach the other side of the globe must mean he's in really big trouble." Himuro raises a brow in amusement. "So. What's his side of the story?"

Alex is stalled by a sense of déjà vu. It brings her back all those years ago when she had to get in between middle school squabbles. Looking at Himuro now, Alex finds that her protégé hasn't really changed one bit. "You meddled with his love life again."

"It wasn't going anywhere." Himuro shrugs unapologetically. "He should be glad I gave him options. You know how blind he can get especially when good things are already right in front of him."

"Still!" Alex crosses her arms to counter the young man. "You have to let Taiga pursue who he wants at his own pace."

"Who he wants and who he needs may well be very different people," Himuro says evenly.

"Tatsuya…"

Himuro sits back. He hates that tone. It's the one that makes him double-think every intentional foul, the one that made him accept the one-sidedness of his affections for Taiga. Alex has a way to talking to him and Himuro regrets being so eager to listen to everything she said back then that makes it impossible for him to tune her out now. The most recent and memorable incident with that tone was when Murasakibara confessed to him at the start of the year and Himuro turned to her for advice. Alex had given him a good earful on how to let go of past failures and to let himself have another chance at happiness.

"Alex…" Himuro sighs but before he can say anything more, a series of knocks break the standstill. He cranes his head back and excuses himself to get the door.

"Muro-chi~n, good morning~" Crossing the threshold, Murasakibara bends down and gives Himuro a kiss.

It's little more than a brush of the lips but the sensation of it still warms him to his core. Himuro's ears redden as he reprimands the younger teen. "Atsushi, what did I tell you about getting dessert before proper meals?"

"Nn…" Murasakibara averts his gaze, unrepentant and even hiding a little smile. "I brought katsudon…" He presents the warm takeout box that's been hanging off his hand. "There's also miso soup and jellies and some extra rice…"

Himuro closes the door as Murasakibara proceeds to dictate their breakfast menu.

"Who's that, Tatsuya?" Alex's voice drifts over from the main room.

Murasakibara looks over at the laptop and beams. "Alexa-chin!"

"Oh!" Alex leans closer to her monitor as if to see past the constraints of the web cam. "Murasakibara! How're you doing?"

"'M fine…" Murasakibara answers as he sets their food down on the study desk since there was no other table. Himuro picks up the laptop and places it on the bed.

"You brought Tatsuya breakfast? How sweet!" Alex gushes and Himuro has half a mind to disconnect the video call before she spouts something more embarrassing. "So? Are you excited for the game later?"

Looking over at Himuro, Murasakibara gives a slow nod. "It'll be my last game with Muro-chin so… I'll definitely make it count."

Himuro freezes in the middle of sorting out the take out box contents. His blush returns twice-fold and he realizes it's a two-way assault.

Cooing, Alex cradles her cheek on one palm. "Oh my heart! Just for that I'll add a dozen more chocolate bars in my next mailing!"

"Yay!"

"What?" Himuro looks incredulously between the two before directing a scowl at the American. "Alex! I told you to stop sending useless things! Are you trying to give him diabetes?"

"I'm showing my gratitude here," Alex says with an air of superiority. "It's a thank you package just for Murasakibara, anyway."

Himuro's visible eye twitches, already dreading the answer to his question. "And you're giving him sweets, because…?"

Murasakibara raises a hand, still giddy at the prospect of getting imported candy. "I gave her Masako-chin's number!"

"Teehee!" Alex claps her hands together.

"Oh dear…" Himuro shakes his head, eyeing his boyfriend with a look that's a cross of pity and adoration.

••••••••••••

Kuroko catches up to Kagami who has obviously slowed down his jogging. It's a bit annoying that his partner felt the need to do that but he knows that the gesture isn't meant to be patronizing. They're rounding up the corner to Kagami's apartment, anyway, thereby ending their circuit.

Unlocking the front door, Kagami eyes Kuroko who is leaning against a pillar, steadying his breath. "You'd think after all this time, you'd be able to match my pace," he comments, smiling as he holds the door open for Kuroko. He pulls off his shoes at the entry way and heads straight for the kitchen in his socks.

Kuroko grabs a water bottle from the side pocket of his gym bag and follows Kagami further in. "I can't afford to overexert myself right before our game," Kuroko states, planting himself on a barstool around the island counter.

"Right. And speaking of, that means you need a heavy breakfast to store up on energy," Kagami declares as he ties an apron around his waist. The ingredients have been thawing out while they jogged. Kagami grabs some pans from their space under the sink so he can start cooking.

Soon, the heavenly smell of toasted waffles and sizzling bacon fill the air. Kuroko sighs, watching Kagami cook enough dishes to feed a small family. It's been a long while since he had Kagami's cooking and while the serving sizes tend to leave him bloated, Kuroko is slowly getting accustomed to the taste of "American" food.

They eat in companionable silence, for once not disturbed by Kagami's shrieking when Nigou rubs against his leg under the table. Nigou is sick with a case of the sniffles so Kuroko had to leave him at home under the care of his mother who's on her day off. Kagami makes Kuroko finish two waffle squares, refusing to budge even in the face of Kuroko's lame attempt at using puppy dog eyes. After they clear the table, Kagami takes the first shower while Kuroko loads the dishwasher. He takes out the tableware Kagami has forgotten to unload and puts on a new batch for washing. Pulling aside a chair to use as a ladder, Kuroko stores the cleaned tableware on the cabinets above. He knows the arrangement of Kagami's kitchen better than his own, which is why he pauses in the middle of his work upon noticing something amiss.

Nestled in the midst of Kagami's growing collection of drinking cups – which includes a big red mug almost the size of a regular soup bowl, Himuro's black mug intended solely for hot chocolate as indicated by the tiny marshmallows parading around the lip, Alex's red and white UCLA mug set, a gag gift from Aomine where the blue tint fades into a picture of Touou's ace giving him the finger – is a new one. Kuroko picks it up, blinking at the English text printed on the white ceramic body, it declared in black capitalized text – I SEE GAY PEOPLE.

Another gag gift? Kuroko thinks it most likely and returns the mug where he found it. He waits out the dishwasher, its low humming filling in the silence as he goes over his itinerary for the day.

The team will be meeting up at the school gates where vans provided by the administrative board will transport them to where the Winter Cup stadium. The 3rd place match is scheduled this morning and the championship will take place in the afternoon, following it is the awarding of winners and other honorable mentions. For a brief moment, Kuroko allows himself to daydream, reliving their glory moment at last year's finals. A smile eases into his expression, reviving the vibrant memory of the look that Kagami gave him after the buzzer sounded, after their last shot swishes through the hoop, after the deciding score is announced for all to hear. Kuroko had gone deaf for a couple of seconds back then but he didn't need any words. He thrived in the smile Kagami sent his way, sustained by the strong arms that held him in a celebratory embrace and kept him there as the rest of Seirin came onto the court and dogpiled them. They were so close, so close –

"Kuroko. Shower's yours." Kagami's voice echoes from the hall and Kuroko wonders if it's just his imagination that made it sound so comfortably domestic.

A door closes within the apartment and Kuroko picks himself up. He leaves the dishwasher still rolling and grabs his towel. The bathroom is steaming, mirrors fogged from the hot shower Kagami had taken. Vainly fighting the surge of arousal, Kuroko locks the door behind him and breathes in deep.

••••••••••••

Kasamatsu groans, shuffling under the covers and tossing aside the pillow he'd been using to cover his ears. Today is the one day that he's mercifully spared from morning classes following a rigorous night of exams. Of course it has to be ruined early on.

"Pick up your damn phone, Kasamatsu!" His roommate yells from the top bunk, followed by a muttering of choice curses. "I've got a killer hangover!"

"Shut up," Kasamatsu grouches, one hand fumbling for the ringing device that's buried somewhere in his sheets. "You shouldn't have been drinking on a school night in the first place." His hand finally latches on to the mobile phone but the ring tone is cut short as he's bringing it up. With even more grumbling, Kasamatsu glares at the name on his screen, wishing nothing but the worst on the hapless soul that dared to disrupt his sleep.

3 missed calls
Kise Ryouta

Furrowing his brows at the display, Kasamatsu nearly drops his phone when a fourth call patches through.

"Kasamatsu!"

"Fuck off, Shindou," Kasamatsu snaps before channeling his anger on its rightful target. Pressing the answer button, Kaijou's ex-captain doesn't bother with hello. "What can you possibly want at this ungodly hour Kise?"

To which he gets a preppy greeting of "Senpai!" from Kise's end.

"Get to the point, moron, I'm trying to sleep here." Kasamatsu slaps a hand over his eyes, wondering why he didn't change his number when he had the chance.

"Eh? But it's past seven already," Kise muses. "You're supposed to be in class!"

"Same to you."

Kise's laugh trickles despite the curtness of his upperclassman's reply. "Wow, you really are growing old. Today's the championship for the Winter Cup, don't you know?"

That gets Kasamatsu blinking wide awake. He actually did forget… not that he's going to give Kise the satisfaction of being right about it. "Of course. And Coach is taking the team to watch?"

"Yep."

"Would've been better if Kaijou were taking part instead of just watching," Kasamatsu mutters.

"Don't be stingy! We tried our best." Kise's growing pout is evident in his tone. "It's just that Shutoku is relentless; Midorimacchi and Takaocchi didn't show us any mercy."

"Hn." Kasamatsu makes a noncommittal sound. This time last year, he led Kaijou against Shuutoku and saw for himself how the King of the East personified their motto. He watched the quarterfinals match last week, hoping that with Kise now in play his old team might stand a chance but it was still for naught.

"If anything, I should be telling you off for fraternizing with the enemy!" Kise huffs, though his tone remains playful. "Just kidding!"

It takes the collegian a few seconds to understand Kise's insinuation and when he does - "Hey, I didn't plan on meeting those kids," Kasamatsu says, annoyed. "I don't even know how Takao managed to get us all in one place by accident."

"So maybe it's fate," Kise chirps. "Ah. That sounded like Midorimacchi just now."

Kasamatsu stifles a yawn. "Whatever. If you've got nothing important to say, I'm hanging up."

"Ah no! Senpai–!"

"Just get to the point already!"

There's a second of silence where Kise's deep exhale sounds over the static. "Touou's Sakurai sent me a message yesterday… It's a little troubling and I need your advice."

Kasamatsu doesn't realize he'd been holding his breath. He lets it out in the guise of another yawn. "Touou, huh? Go on."

It's a dilemma that Kasamatsu has already heard from a different perspective. Still, he listens, patient and supportive, because no matter how juvenile Kise can act sometimes there is a depth to him that only a select few are graced to witness. The genuine Kise, as Kasamatsu knows him, only reveals himself to those who the man trusts in full. Kasamatsu never asked for it but he's glad all the same.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Kasamatsu queries, propping a pillow underneath his head. Anyone with a sane mind would know to dump a cheating partner but Kise isn't just anyone. He has surprised Kasamatsu countless times with his unique perspective.

"Sakurai said he'll stop if I tell him to," Kise reveals. "Said he'll even make sure Aominecchi doesn't fool around with anyone else at their school but…"

Here goes…

"Sakurai was crying the entire time."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Kasamatsu remembers how flustered Sakurai had been last weekend. "If he was going to feel bad about it, then he shouldn't have started it in the first place."

Kise hums thoughtfully. "You don't know Aominecchi, senpai. He does what he wants and god help you if you get caught up in it. That's how he's always been."

"So you're fine with being cheated on?" Kasamatsu clarifies, a little incredulous.

Kise keeps quiet for a worrying number of seconds, then, "Aominecchi never said that we'll be exclusive in the first place." Sensing a sermon about to come on, Kise hurriedly adds, "I-It's not a bad thing! He made it clear from the start and I… I was just so happy to be given a chance that I told him I didn't mind…"

"Hmmm."

"Aominecchi is unpredictable," Kise continues with a tone that Kasamatsu finds too affectionate given the topic of their conversation. "But he isn't heartless. He treats me right when we're together so I'm not complaining. I mean, my idol image actually benefits from our arrangement so…"

Briefly, Kasamatsu recalls Himuro's jesting suggestion. He mentally cringes and shakes his head to clear it. "But now that you can put a face on at least one of Aomine's other partners, it makes you think of how many others there might be."

"Yeah…" Kise murmurs. "Still, I don't want to call it off. In a way, Sakurai and I are the same. I just hope Aominecchi is as happy with Sakurai as he is with me."

"Sounds like you're already decided on what to do," Kasamatsu says, heaving a sigh as he sits up. His legs dangle off the edge of the bed and he rakes a hand through messy spikes of hair. "What did you even call me for?"

"Oh." Kise sounds sheepish. "I was waiting for you to tell me off."

"Idiot," grumbles Kasamatsu. "I'm not going to waste spit on that. Rather, I suggest calling up that Touou kid and clear up things with him."

"I will," Kise promises. "I'll tell him everything's alright… I just hope that he's tougher than he looks."

"And Aomine?"

"I'm meeting up with him and Momoicchi for lunch today," Kise says, obviously happy and that, Kasamatsu decides, is what's important.

••••••••••••

The dining room is spacious, opening up to a much wider zen garden outside. Frost swirls over the pond, undisturbed. Minute clinks of fine china break the serene monotony.

At the head of the table sits the head of the house, the morning newspaper folded before him. Propped over the newsprint is his tablet, showing a review of the Japanese stock market side by side with the rest of the world's. He picks up a dumpling and eats it, eyes never wavering from the screen. His mouth thins as the next display loads and he peruses the negative developments.

Opposite him, Akashi sets his chopsticks at the edge of the plate and wipes his lips with a napkin. Having finished his meal, Akashi excuses himself from the table. Even now, he'd really rather not linger in the same room as his father as much as he can help it.

Crimson eyes meet a strikingly similar pair. A frown pinches at the corners of the senior's mouth. "Not going to school?" he asks, eyeing the jersey his son is sporting.

"I'm bringing the team to the stadium to see the battle for third," Akashi states calmly.

"Tsk." The older man breaks eye contact. "Have you finished reviewing the progress report on our affiliates?"

"I have."

"Good. You'll be sitting in on our board meeting, Friday evening. I'll have Namikawa fetch you from school." He swipes at the touch-screen with a pointing finger, the gold band around it gleams upon catching the light.

"Understood," Akashi says out of courtesy. He exits the room and heads straight for the stairs, rigid posture easing somewhat once he's out of his father's sight.

"Young Master, good morning."

Akashi jerks to attention, masking his surprise at the sight of an unexpected presence in his room.

The woman puts the sufficiently fluffed pillow in her hands back on the bed, clasping her now-free hands together.

"Sayaka," Akashi acknowledges, stepping into the room but not letting the door close. "Where is Hino?"

"Madam Hino is resting today," Sayaka answers. "She slipped over some wet tiles at the kitchen last night and dislocated her hip. I was sent in her place to tidy up your room."

"Last night?" And nobody thought to inform him? Akashi presses his lips together, keeping cool. "Has a doctor looked at her?"

Sayaka nods. "We called the town clinic and a pair of medics came over last night. Hasn't your father told you?"

Akashi keeps his discontent to himself. Hino has been with him for as long as he can remember which is why he has specifically asked for her to be the only one to look after him. She stood as something of a second mother to him, filling the void left by his own mother's passing. Hino is one of the few people in this household (and in his life, for that matter) that Akashi has entrusted with his truth.

Taking the teen's prolonged silence as a bad sign, Sayaka speaks up. "T-the medics said that Madam Hino will be back in shape in no time, so you don't have to worry, Young Master. I'll be doing her rounds for today so – please allow me to be in your service."

Despite the cheerful tone and soothing words, a feeling of dread still creeps around Akashi's chest. Sayaka is new, she doesn't know and doesn't need to. A placating smile masks his expression. "Thank you for your dedication, Sayaka. If you have finished with the bed, however, you may leave."

"But… Your laundry. And the waste bins, too."

"It's fine." Akashi uses just enough authority to dissuade her. "Consider your duties here done."

Having no choice but to follow such orders, Sayaka bows respectfully and makes to leave. She stops short of the door.

"Sorry to cause you any inconvenience," Akashi says, eyeing the help from his periphery. "I know you're just doing your job but I only trust Hino in overseeing my room. No offense. Kindly let all the others know that no one is to enter here. The place can stand not being meticulously cleaned for a day or two."

A natural curiosity begs Sayaka to ask why but she decides against it in the end. The young master's orders are absolute. "Of course."

Akashi nods as she finally closes the door. The sigh of relief resounds loudly in the now empty room. In the silence that settles around him, Akashi walks over to the bedside dresser and unplugs his phone that he'd left charging over breakfast. The interface lights up with a new message notification. URGENT, the subject line exclaims and Akashi wastes no time in reading its contents. By the end of the short message, a fond smile has cracked through Akashi's carefully constructed façade.

Oh, Shintaro.

••••••••••••

"Shin-chan, seriously, get your butt out of there!" Takao's reprimand ends in laughter as he coaxes his partner out of the school bus that had been their ride to the sports stadium. He stands outside, right under Midorima's window like some olden suitor beseeching his beloved… which is actually not that far from the truth.

"Don't tell me he's getting cold feet," Kinoshita whispers to Takao, brows crinkled in disbelief.

"Nah, nothing like that," Takao grins at his teammate. "It's his horoscope for the day. Something about Cancers faring too well and stuff."

Kinoshita shakes his head, looking up at Shutoku's ace through the windows. He never understood the guy's obsession with his luck and whatnot. In any case, shouldn't Midorima act more ecstatic since his sign is apparently topping the charts? "Well, he's gotta get off the bus sometime this century."

"Hehe, leave it to me." Takao claps Kinoshita's shoulder, "Tell coach and the others we'll be with you soon."

"Sure."

The bus driver hardly spares Takao a glance, busy with doing the morning paper's crossword over the steering wheel.

Takao plops himself on the empty seat across the aisle from where Midorima has holed himself up against the window, narrow eyes focused on the mobile in his hands. "Oi, Shin-chan…"

Finally, Midorima looks up at him. "I'm meeting up with Akashi to get my lucky item," he states. "Do you want to go ahead or…"

"If you don't want me around–"

"It's not that," Midorima quickly dissuades his partner. "I get the feeling that the two of you don't get along swimmingly…"

Takao's grin exposes his teeth in a not entirely friendly manner. "I'll behave. 'Sides, I don't know what I'll do if he kidnaps our ace right before the battle for third."

"Akashi would never–" Midorima is interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He flips it open and scans the new message, looking back at Takao. "He's here."

"Let's not keep the emperor waiting, then."

••••••••••••

Akashi stands outside the southwest gate, gripping the handle of an old yet well-maintained suitcase. His varsity jacket is zipped up, body leaning back against the wall where framed posters of previous sporting events are displayed. He looks up upon hearing his name, brows arching when he sees who Midorima has brought with him.

"Shintaro." Akashi appraises the shooting guard in greeting before moving on to the other teen. "And Kazunari."

Takao's smile goes frigid for a split second. "Yo."

"Thank you for lending me your shogi board on such short notice." Midorima steps up and Akashi deposits the dark leather suitcase into his hands.

"It's no bother," Akashi assures him with the slightest smile. "Anything to help." Slipping his gaze past Midorima, his smile peaks seeing how much Takao fails to appear unaffected. "You should check inside to see if it truly fits Oha Asa's criteria, Shintaro. I brought the set that I thought fit your description but I can't be too sure."

Midorima gives a jerky nod, settling on the empty bench a couple of steps away and undoing the suitcase's latches. A polished wooden board takes up most of the space inside, surrounded by velvet cushioning and kept in place by leather straps. A compartment has been set for gleaming ivory pieces with ebony ink inlaid on the engraved kanji.

With their mutual friend sufficiently distracted, Akashi turns to Takao, offering a chastising smile. He clasps his hands behind his back, benevolent. "You've been causing Shintaro a lot of trouble recently."

Takao meets crimson eyes, an involuntary chill wracking his spine at the memory of a piercing golden stare. Keeping his chin up, Takao maintains an even tone. "It's our problem to solve."

"Indeed," Akashi agrees with a condescending air about him. "But the frequency with which Shintaro has come to call on me for advice is worrying… He is a dear friend, you understand?"

Before Takao can come up with a reply, Midorima joins them. His calm expression indicating his satisfaction at the borrowed game board. "We should be heading back," he says, coming between the two point guards. "Takao."

"Sure, Shin-chan." Takao agrees, wresting his gaze away from Akashi. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket, putting on an easy smile.

"I'll find time to return this to you," Midorima nods at Akashi.

"Of course." Akashi looks like he's still about to say something, rendering the other two unable to leave. "Ah, yes. Shintaro has informed me of your promotion Kazunari," he smiles pleasantly. "Allow me to offer my congratulations."

Takao stares at the hand extended to him. He took on Shutoku's captaincy for the next year less than twenty four hours ago. Briefly glancing at Midorima, Takao deflates at the expectant look directed at him. With all the sincerity he can muster, Takao reaches out. "Thank y–eaoww!"

Akashi jumps back and so does Takao, hands balled into fists and held as far away from the other as possible. Red clashes with silver, brows furrowed in surprise and suspicion. Midorima looks between the two of them, blinking. "Um."

"Static," Akashi says without any prompting, fingers still twitching from the unexpected jolt.

Takao shakes out his hand, bewildered. His heart is gently pounding. "Was that divine intervention or what?" he cracks his joke with a half-hearted grin in Midorima's direction. Running his hand through his hair – no static – Takao maintains an aloof expression when he faces Akashi once more. "Anyway, thanks. For the lucky item, as well. Now Shin-chan can finally focus on the game. You have no idea–"

"Oh but I do," Akashi cuts in politely, finding his new footing in the disrupted balance. "We had a practice match back in middle school where he refused to participate because his lucky item was this comic print underwear. The store didn't have anything his size yet–"

"I think that's enough, thank you," Midorima says through gritted teeth, face blotched red, eyes hidden behind his glasses. "We really must go." He turns on his heel and walks away. "Takao."

There's a desperation in that tone that makes Takao snicker a bit longer. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He makes to follow but for a split second he's held still by the look of genuine amusement on Akashi's face. At least, Takao thinks it's genuine; it's different from the patronizing look he'd been on the receiving end of for as long as he remembers, at least. The look dissolves as soon as Akashi catches him and Takao decides it best not to dwell on it.

Akashi watches them leave, watches the way Takao bounces with every step, how Midorima's hasty pace slows so they're walking side by side.

Every time, Akashi hopes that there will be a moment when Midorima would look back at him again – wait on him like he did in middle school – but he never does. He's solely fixated at the buzzing ball of energy that orbits him, spewing frivolous words and poking at his defenses under the guise of friendship. Akashi isn't fooled, though; nobody ever does things purely out of the goodness of their hearts. Takao has long earned Midorima's attention and for him to keep pushing only means that he is after something more. Akashi cannot understand how Midorima bears with it; the man is known for his impatience, after all. Either Midorima has built up tougher walls or he has completely surrendered to the inanity. Whichever it is, Midorima doesn't look like he minds Takao's constant barrage very much.

For all the complaining that Midorima does to Akashi, it's evident that he still prefers to have Takao beside him. It is most pitiful, the way Midorima holds himself back from outright declaring his affections for his partner. More than once, Akashi has been tempted to intervene (and maybe he did give Murasakibara a call before the semis) but there's a line that Akashi dares not cross – for his own sake – because his involvement needs a limitation or else he might lose control of his own emotions.

••••••••••••

The referee calls on the players to line up, facing each other at the half-court line. Hyuga and Jenrya shake hands, wishing each other a good game. The captains bow and the rest of their respective teams follow-suit.

Midorima steps up for the tip-off, brimming with confidence now that his lucky item is in hand. From the Seirin side, Kagami takes his place opposite Shutoku's ace. Everyone else disperses to get into their starting positions. The referee dribbles and catches the ball with one hand, a split second before he releases it Kagami meets Takao's gaze. He nods and Takao grins back.

The whistle blows and the battle for third begins.

••••••••••••

A/N: Sorry the chapter is super late. I got my visual novel cherry popped by DMMD and now all I can think about is whether Takao will take Midorima's or Kagami's route in this silly fic haha. No seriously.