Hi everyone! So this took awhile because I was truly confused as to where I wanted the story to go. During my morning shower today, inspiration struck, and this is the result. I hope you all enjoy this! And I apologise in advance, there isn't much Kuroko/Aomine interaction in this chapter but we're getting there!

Chapter 6

"Your turn, Shinatro."

Midorima swallowed forcibly and opened his mouth, preparing to launch into his well thought out spiel of reasons as to why he shouldn't, couldn't and wouldn't pretend to be romantically interested in the phantom player. But before he could utter a single syllable a pair of mismatched eyes turned its laser like gaze towards the tall green haired man at the table. Said shooting guard felt the blood leave his face and dread settle heavily in his stomach.

Akashi clearly took his silence and look of trepidation as agreement as he turned to Kise and commanded him to write down tips and lines for Midorima to follow and practice before the next week.

With a sad mental farewell to his psychological health and stoic reputation, Midorima resigned himself to the performance of a lifetime.

"…remember to smile, maintain eye contact, blush if possible…flutter eyelashes?!"

Midorima was about ready to kill all his middle school team mates. But remembering how Akashi was a member, hell, head of said team, he settled for attempting to glare a hole through the smudged, stained and rumpled piece of paper that a certain bubbly blonde had handed to him cheerfully and with no small amount of glee and anticipation. Taking a deep calming breath, the talented long ranged shooter raised the guide and braced himself for further frustration and homicidal thoughts. He was so immersed in mentally commentating – with a heavy dose of snide and sarcasm – at each ridiculous line of script that he failed to notice his team mate creep up behind him, peering over his shoulder curiously. When Midorima felt gentle puffs of air – which sent wonderful shivers up and down his spine and made his leg muscles go weak and jelly like – on the back of his neck, his head shot up and spun around, looking at the dark haired boy guiltily whilst smuggling the cursed sheet unobtrusively into his pocket.

Shutoku's point guard regarded him suspiciously for a moment before beaming at him and chirping in his annoyingly bright voice, "So, Shin-chan! What's happening with you? You seemed reeeaaally absorbed in that piece of paper."

With that, Takao began to manipulate and manoeuvre his way towards the pocket which contained the instructions. Blushing and backing away, Midorima fended his friend – not that he'd admit that to anyone – off with his arms.

"N-nothing! It's nothing!" It was unfortunate that his voice squeaked with nervousness by the end of his adamant denial. Taking a breath to steady himself, Midorima cleared his throat, pushed up his glasses and repeated, firmly this time, "Takao. It's nothing for you to worry about. Now, I think we're late for training."

Turning, Midorima strode briskly towards the gym leaving Takao staring after his back in the hallway.

As Midorima dragged his feet towards Maji Burgers, a black blur could be seen bounding from corner to corner behind him. Clothed in an outfit of pure black – along with a dark cap and sunglasses – Takao was on a mission. Specifically, a mission to spy on his Shin-chan. The shooting guard had been acting strangely distant and distracted the whole week, he hadn't been parted from a certain sheet of paper and during any moments of down time the green haired boy would take it out, smooth it reverently and study the words on it in depth, occasionally raising his head and make furtive glances around him to ensure he was alone. Suffice to say, Takao had been intrigued and if prodded further, grudgingly admit a little jealous. Since this…document – this was thought with no little distaste – had appeared, Shin-chan had been completely absorbed and as a result had spent little to no time with Takao, acting defensive and evasive whenever questioned. Finally, after four days of little success, Takao had managed to get a glimpse over Shin-chan's shoulder. And he had immediately wished that his streak of failure had continued, that he had never managed to lay eyes on that page, for written across the top in bold black letters was, "How to Seduce Kuroko Tetsuya, an Indepth Guide by the Amazing, Brilliant, Fantastic Kise Ryota".

Takao's heart had pounded and ached like nothing he had ever felt before, threatening to crack right in two and subsequently sunk to the tips of his toes. How had he not known? He had made it his business to know everything about Shin-chan, from his daily horoscopes and lucky items as ordained by Oha-Asa, the nearest shops that carried the sometimes random and downright lunatic auspicious charms, to the certain phrases, faces and antics Takao had to pull to make him smile on one of his bad days. All of this was meticulously researched, recorded and after many blunders and failures, the end near-perfect data was guaranteed to win the green haired boy's heart for himself. How could he have been so blind to where Shin-chan's true affections lay? He had almost given up after seeing what that sheet had so brazenly pronounced but if he was anything, Takao was stubborn. He had to see them for himself.

A thick uncomfortably and awkward silence had descended upon the table of the Generation of Miracles. Murisakibara shuffled minutely in his seat, Kise coughed discreetly, Kuroko sighed internally, Aomine was determinedly scowling down at the table and Midorima was wracking his brains, trying to recall the obnoxious advice Kise had written down. Only Akashi seemed to be perfectly at ease with the tension, delicately picking at his special order from the luxurious restaurant down the road.

Clearing his throat, Midorima tried again, "So…Kuroko…you…um look good today." Seeing the unimpressed look Kise was shooting him, the bespectacled boy added in a lewd, horrendously fake wink. Wincing at his pathetic excuse of flirtation he glanced desperately around for help. Unfortunately for him, the only one game enough to meet his gaze was his captain and he froze upon being on the receiving end of the demanding narrow eyed stare. A part of his mind idly wondered if this was what prey in the wild felt like right before the predator at the top of the food chain pounced and tore them to pieces. Akashi's eyes seemed to bore straight into his brain and the message was suddenly clear, crystal clear, as if the red head had said it out loud, "Up your performance, or there will be consequences."

Panicked and abruptly aware of the potential that his life span might end right that day, Midorima did the first thing that popped into his head. He reached out, grabbed Kuroko by the ears and planted a big, wet smack onto the phantom player's lips.

If Midorima had thought the silence before was awful, it was nothing compared to what it was now. It was broken by a tearful gasp from the table beside them. Thinking that he recognised the voice, the green haired boy turned and immediately stopped cold. Oh fuck, his mind helpfully supplied.

Next to them sat Takao. Takao who had tears threatening to spill from eyes that were full of hurt and betrayal. Seeing that he had been discovered he attempted a wobbly smile of greeting then impatiently dashed away the wet trails on his cheeks and practically sprinted out the diner.

Midorima was still for a moment, horror like he had never felt before settled on him like a thick blanket. It was only when Kuroko jabbed him gently in the side with his elbow and giving him a sympathetic look uttered quietly, "Go. Go after him, Midorima-kun." That jolted him out of his daze and with a quick glance to his ex-captain, he dashed after the dark haired boy, praying that he could catch up to him.

"Well," Akashi stated, taking a sip out of the china teacup he had procured out of nowhere at the start of their meeting, "That was unexpected."

The rest of his ex-team mates shivered sightly. It was clear from the tone of his voice, that everything that had happened that afternoon was in fact not unexpected – maybe even planned – by their uncanny leader.

Thank you for reading! As always, I'd be ecstatic if you left a note!