They didn't mention the elephant in the room. No, the next time they met was at the library by pure chance. Akashi was already at their usual table when Kuroko entered. Before Kuroko could make any decision on whether he should leave or not, Akashi's head turned and perused his skittish figure with curiosity (Kuroko wasn't even going to ask himself how Akashi knew he was there).

It was too late to turn back, Kuroko didn't wish to be disrespectful.

He calmly walked toward the redhead (steady, steady...) and sat across from him. They both glanced at each other for a split second before Kuroko twitched and quickly opened his book, concentrating on the words and closing off the environment around him. Silence ensued between the two. They didn't even share a greeting.

The next time the two met, Kuroko was positive fate was against him. Kuroko's belongings were spread out on the park bench, almost as if he owned it. A set of paintbrushes, tubes of blues, reds, and purples, palettes stained with abhorrent shades, and tarp that wasn't even doing its job all littered the wooden rest stop.

Kuroko couldn't help but stare at him. It must've been a humorous display. Mouth agape. Paintbrush wobbling in hand. Harden material streaked ungracefully on his face. "Akashi-kun...?"

"Kuroko." He flinched hearing his surname (though it was a relief to hear an answer.)

"Um." He hesitated and turned his canvas away from those fiery eyes. "Why are you here?"

Akashi frowned with his hands casually in his pockets. "This is a public park, is it not?" He tilted his head (possibly a sarcastic gesture). "What are you doing here? This seems like an unconventional place to be working."

"Reference." Kuroko responded quickly.

"Reference... Oh, you mean for the stars?" Akashi was quick to pick up on what he had meant (as usual). Kuroko nodded. "Can't you just look up some pictures? Or even just look out your window?"

Downcast eyes followed an exiguous reply, "It's... not the same."

They happened to meet once again, same place, same time. But Kuroko had saved a spot for the other on the bench, clearing away the useless tarp in favor of a companion. Akashi sat without much protest. "It's warm tonight."

"Yes, it is." Kuroko muttered, feeling Akashi's acute gaze on his back. He continued painting (fill in the negative space, blend the colors, fill in the negative space, blend the colors), fully away he was being inspected.

"Isn't it a bit uncomfortable?"

(Extremely. Not to mention difficult to work in-)

"Not really."

"I see." Akashi tore his vision away from Kuroko to look at his implements. "This is an expensive brand." He picked up one of his paintbrushes (size 16, flat) and checked the company name. "Did you buy these yourself?"

Kuroko shook his head. "They were a gift." His next stroke was uncharacteristically rough, but he swiftly covered up his mishap.

"May I ask from who?"

A tranquil moment passed before the air grew dense. Kuroko contemplated this request. Akashi had asked for so many things before, why shouldn't he refuse this question? This was, in fact, his personal information. He didn't have to share everything with this man. Someone he wasn't even sure he could call a friend.

"My (deceased) grandmother."

"Oh." A lull. "She has exquisite taste." Akashi ran his finger along the bristle.

The blue male bobbed his head in agreement.

"Akashi-kun."

"Yes Kuroko?"

"Stand up, please."

"That sounds like an order."

"It's just a request."

"Alright. Now what?"

"Stand completely still."

Kuroko received twenty-three marks on his Japanese history test. His average dropped tremendously that day.

"You're usually making decent grades in this class." His teacher enlightened him. "This isn't high school, so I'm not entitled to lecture you. You're an adult now." Kuroko stared at the older woman blankly. She sighed (long and drawn-out, her patience was thinning). "But to see such a drop is a little disheartening. Please try harder next time."

She handed him his test. "Thank you, sensei. I'll do better next time." Kuroko walked out of the classroom (his footsteps were light, blending into the empty halls), strangely unfazed by this negative development. He stared at the red number on his paper. He knew why he received this, and he knew he deserved it.

As a child, he was constantly reminded by his parents that grades were important to keep up with. Yet even with this failure, he just shrugged and moved on.

Kuroko called and apologized over the phone. His mother was livid.

"Do you need me to stand up again, Kuroko?" Akashi immediately asked once he arrived at their (not their, it was a public place) park bench.

Kuroko paused and looked up at the sky. He then glanced at his work before answering, "No. Not today."

"Hmm?" Akashi questioned. He began walking toward the canvas before being stopped in his tracks by Kuroko. "Kuroko? What are you doing?"

"You're not allowed to see yet."

The red man let loose a groundless smile, "Why not, Kuroko? You're not opposing me now, are you?" He crossed his arms and stood tall (expecting Kuroko to move first).

"Yes." He stayed firm though. "Akashi-kun is not allowed to see it until it's done."

Akashi's demeanor dropped a few shades. Kuroko tensed. "I've seen it before, why are you withholding it now?" He glared at the artist. Kuroko felt dread and horror grip his heart. He felt minuscule under him. He felt submissive.

Akashi Seijuurou's egotistical, reigning side shimmered, newly awakened. He was being challenged. No one stood against him. No one survived unscathed standing against him. Not even Tetsuya.

"I..." Kuroko faltered. "Please, Akashi-kun. I just need to keep this to myself."

"Kuro-"

"All this was done by heed of your outlandish application. I only ask one thing."

Akashi stared down at Kuroko (the only way he ever looked at him). He regarded what he said, pondering what his next move should be. His mind went through all the options and outcomes. He weighed each choice and saw the benefits and downfalls of each action (like he was playing shogi).

"Alright," He smirked, "but on one condition."

"Akashi-kun..."

"Tetsuya." (Checkmate).

"Eh!? You're painting for Akashichhi!?" Kise overreacted (what else was new), pushing out of his chair.

"Kise-kun." Kuroko stopped and took a quick sip of his vanilla treat. "We're in public. Please refrain from yelling."

Aomine kicked the back of Kise's chair, scowling. "Don't stand up like that either, idiot." His tone was dull, but filled with annoyance.

"That is kinda weird, though." Kagami inhaled his food, eating burger after burger (Kuroko always regards similar to that of a vacuum on good days, a black hole on bad). "Akashi Seijuurou, noticing you and randomly asking for a favor. For some reason it just doesn't sit well with me."

"What do you think it's for?" Kise asked once seated. "Hey, Murasakicchi, you're pretty close to him. Do you know?"

"Hmmm... No clue." Murasakibara lazily munched on his chips, choosing them over the food at Maji Burger. "It's not like anything special's coming up."

"Maybe Midorima knows." Aomine said off handedly. "That guy always use to hang around Akashi."

"Playing shogi," Kise grinned, "yeah I remember. You should ask him, Kurokochhi!"

Kuroko shook his head. "I don't think so." He vaguely remembered the numerous tasks he was given after asking about astronomy on the first night of drawing (whilst receiving no helpful advice once so ever).

"Akashi's weird, maybe he's just gauging your skills as an artist." Aomine yawned. He looked away from the group, already bored of the conversation.

Kagami frowned. "I don't know the guy personally," he took another large bite, "but he sounds like trouble. He suddenly invited you over. That's just strange." Kuroko shrugged, choosing to focus on his shake instead on the creeping memories of red eyes hungrily staring at him (he felt like he was supposed to feel icky about the thought).

Kise changed the subject, ignoring the fact that Kuroko went to the other's flat. "Kurokochhi, Kurokocchi~!" Kise looked to the quiet male with a bright face. "Paint me something!"

"I refuse."

"Ehhhh!? But that's not fair!"

"Shut up, Kise!"

Kuroko stared at his work in progress. He ran his hand along the dry texture, wondering how or if Akashi is even going to like it. Sure, the redhead had assured him that his art was very appealing to him, but a bubble of worry swelled in Kuroko's gut.

It was unfamiliar, foreign. He didn't get requests often (ever), so he didn't know how to calm himself. Usually he would paint, but he's run into a roadblock.

The moon wasn't full.

Kuroko hasn't touched his paintbrush in a week, yet he and Akashi were still meeting up at that park. They sat on the bench, no art tools, no canvas. Just two bodies at peace.

"Akashi-kun."

Akashi hummed in response. He was focused on the night sky, watching and waiting.

"Can I ask you something?"

"That depends, Tetsuya." They looked at each other. Akashi smiled. "What are you going to ask?" he returned his eyes to the sky.

"Well..." Kuroko trailed off, wondering if it was an okay question to ask. Would Akashi get irritated? Would he even answer? "I was thinking and..."

"And...?" Akashi parroted, playfully smirking.

Kuroko kept an empty expression, unamused. Akashi chuckled. "Why does Akashi-kun want-"

"Tetsuya," Akashi interjected, pointing at the sky in a serene manner, "it's a shooting star." Kuroko's attention went to the tiny blazing light traveling quickly across the black space. In a blink of an eye, it passed.

"Make a wish." Kuroko whispered.

Akashi looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you believe in that, Tetsuya?" His tone wasn't condescending and he looked genuinely curious.

"... Yes." Kuroko answered quietly. He looked at the stars, knowing that his question was ignored and interrupted. He looked at the tranquil man next to him. Akashi's sight was affixed on the night.

(Geniune doesn't seem to fit Akashi's image.)