Notes: The new semester starts tomorrow, I'm panicking, so I'm doing the only sensible thing I could in this situation: writing fanfic.

Aomine had once said to him that he could achieve anything if he worked hard enough, even a place as a regular player in the infamous Teikou Middle School basketball team. He had said he believed in Kuroko.

What would that Aomine say if he was here now? Would he still have faith in Kuroko, knowing he'd already failed him once?

The lack of an answer made him nauseous, as did the prospect of having to rely on someone like Kagami for all of this. He longed to ask Ogiwara-kun for advice, but he'd squandered the right to do so already long ago. He had to make it through this on his own.

"For you alone that will be impossible," he said. It was only a half-truth — who knew, Kagami had potential, maybe he could do it alone —, but he had nothing more to bargain with at the moment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kagami demanded, giving him the stink-eye.

"I am a shadow," Kuroko responded quietly. "Without shadows there would be nothing to contrast the light. I will help you become number one. I am going to make your light stand out from the rest."

Kagami blinked, then broke into a smirk so wide it looked almost painful. "You sure talk big for someone so small," he said, more breath than voice. Floodlit by the street lamps, he glowed in the night as though he truly was some sort of light source of his own and Kuroko his shadow.

What an idiot, Kuroko thought, a bit unsure whether it was directed at Kagami or himself, but later he would only remember this: Kagami, illuminated and tall like the Tokyo Tower, staring off into the middle distance as if he was expecting one of the Generation of Miracles to pop up right here, his teeth an uneven row of razors, glinting with mad certainty — a boy like molten lava cast in a spark of time.

On some level, Kuroko knew that he was kind of in over his head.

Originally, he had decided to leave his past in Teikou behind when he entered high school, and now he was agreeing to work together with some egomaniacal jackass to defeat his old teammates. He suspected his ongoing fixation on Aomine and the Generation of Miracles wasn't quite healthy, and Kagami's influence on his resolve perplexed him, but Kuroko kept going with it, and he really, really could not fathom why. Perhaps Kagami's special personal brand of crazy was simply very contagious.

Becoming a regular player on Seirin's team, as it turned out, entailed a tad more than Aida-san had first let on. When Kuroko asked her about it on Friday, she told him to come to the school's rooftop on Monday at 8:40 AM sharp. Idly excited and somewhat anxious, he wondered what she was plotting. He liked Aida-san because she was smart, perceptive and preternaturally gifted, but that also made her scary as hell. In that respect, she was rather like Momoi-san.

The weekend came and went, and then Monday morning was there. On the rooftop, all freshmen candidates had gathered around Aida-san to learn what their last trial would be.

With sinister glee she heralded, "You're going to shout your name, class and goal for this year so that everybody at the assembly down there can hear you!" She motioned toward the mass of students beneath them in the schoolyard, lined up neatly in front of a podium on which the principal and the student council president were about to give their monthly motivational speeches. "If you don't, I'll have you confess to the girl you like while absolutely naked."

At that most of the boys shrieked in horror or exchanged terrified glances with their neighbors. Meanwhile, Kuroko wondered in how far this would apply to him as there was no girl whom he liked that way, and there never would be.

Next to him a few people got shoved sideways as Kagami pushed forward, stepped out of the crowd and jumped on the rail. "Class 1-B, Kagami Taiga," he bellowed. "I'm gonna beat the Generation of Miracles and be the best basketball player in Japan!"

Below, the swarm of students broke into a hum of bewildered murmurs. Content with his result, Kagami smirked and hopped back down. Kuroko felt something hot flood his ribcage at the sight, which made no sense, because that had been loud, obnoxious and overly dramatic, much like everything else about Kagami. He blamed it on the rush and the general tension of the moment.

"Next one?" Aida-san prompted merrily.

Kuroko was about to raise his hand, but then a handful of indignant teachers burst through the door and busted the meeting. He sighed. So much for that.

Kuroko was not going to give up on his place on the team. Admittedly, he could no longer do that shouting from the rooftop thing because the school board had decreed that students no longer be allowed up there and hence locked the entryway, but surely he could prove his worthiness of the club some other way. Maybe —

A clattering sound in his near vicinity drew him away from the thought. Kuroko peered upward to see Kagami settling down on the seat across him, huge mound of burgers and all. It seemed intentional, not accidental, this time, like he'd wanted to sit at Kuroko's table, which … huh.

"I've been thinking. There's something bothering me," Kagami said, knees jittering nervously under the table. It was a bizarre view. What could possibly evoke that kind of edginess in him? "Why didn't you join a seeded school like all the other miracle guys? Did something happen in middle school, or do you — do you have a special reason for playing basketball?"

Kuroko was actually kind of taken aback. Objectively speaking, it was pretty ridiculous that Kagami was so jumpy about that, but Kuroko got it. Unlikely as it was, the two of them shared that — this intense, slightly freakish fervor for basketball.

Truth be told, Kuroko didn't really know what to say. He had thought Kagami would tell him to be glad he hadn't gotten the opportunity to take part in Aida-san's shouting contest or that he'd insist Kuroko should quit while he was ahead or — or something, but not this. Had Kagami's opinion of him changed that much? And if so, why? Only a few days ago he had compared him to a hamburger.

Kuroko bit his lip. "The Generation of Miracles was very powerful but lacked something important. We — they were not a team. I played on the same side of the court as them, but that was all. I never played together along with them, so I quit. I planned to stop chasing them, I wanted to find a place where I could just play basketball in peace. I found this school and — and you." He swallowed. He was confessing a lot right now, and he had no idea why. It appeared, by sheer proximity, Kagami was making him lose his mind. "When you said you wanted to win against the Generation of Miracles, that gave me hope. That is why I intend to help you. For the time being, this is my reason for playing basketball."

Kagami sat back and studied him for a moment. Blushing slightly, he asked, "How can you say stuff like that with a straight face?" He cleared his throat, and his gaze flitted downward.

Kuroko felt himself go hot. Warmth spread through his body until every nerve was alight with it. He cursed under his breath while Kagami fled the scene, ostensibly embarrassed by them both. Kuroko could relate.

One day later there was a message scrawled all over the front yard of the school, clumsy strokes of white paint against the gravelly black of the asphalt. It read, "We will be number one. Class 1-B, Kuroko Tetsuya."