When they emerged from the apartment complex into the street, Kuroko was shaking. Kagami placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him to a bench, and Kuroko practically fell into a sitting position, his legs collapsing under him at the last moment. There he sat, shivering, his hands wrapped around his knees in an effort to keep them still.

Kagami remained standing. His entire body vibrated with rage that had no outlet now, nowhere to go. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began a search, but his eyes kept straying to Kuroko. Sweat began to appear on Kuroko's face despite the chill of the early spring night that pierced through their light school blazers. Kagami didn't like the color of Kuroko's face. It seemed nearly translucent in the unflattering light of the streetlamps and traffic signals.

It was dark. It was late. Kagami wanted to go home.

"Are you cold?" he asked. "You can have my coat." Shock might be a problem. Kagami frowned at the duffel hanging from his shoulder. Maybe Kuroko had packed a sweater he could pull out for him.

Kuroko shook his head. "I don't want your coat." He looked up at Kagami. The dullness faded away from his eyes, just a little. It was as if he'd forgotten Kagami was there for a moment. "What are you doing?"

Kagami punched a finger at his phone. "Looking for the nearest hospital. We need to get you checked out."

"What? No." Kuroko half-rose from the bench, then fell again when his legs couldn't support his weight. "No hospitals. Please. You said you were going to take me home."

Kagami scowled. He didn't like how panicked Kuroko looked. Like a child terrified of monsters in the dark. "Maybe I should call an ambulance instead. You can't even stand up."

"Yes, I can." Kuroko forced himself to his feet. This time he remained standing through sheer willpower, though Kagami could clearly see just how much effort it was taking, just how quickly it was draining what few reserves of energy Kuroko had left.

"Stop that." Kagami dumped the bags by the bench and moved around to face Kuroko. He put his hands on his shoulders and exerted just a little downward pressure...and Kuroko fell on his butt on the bench again. He glared up Kagami, though, and his face looked positively awful.

Kagami looked back at him for a moment, then groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. He had no choice but to revert to English. "Oh my freaking God, what is this...what am I supposed to do..."

"I'm fine," Kuroko said, small but clear.

Kuroko lowered his hands and looked at him again. Kuroko believed that was true, it was clear on his face. Or at least he wanted it to be true.

Well, and who wouldn't?

Kagami sighed and plopped down next to him on the bench, loose-limbed and drained of energy. He couldn't blame Kuroko for wanting to go home, to not have to deal with any of this. But they didn't have a choice.

"You are not fine," Kagami said as reasonably as he could.

"Yes, I am."

"You aren't."

"I am."

"No, you are not."

Kuroko opened his mouth, and Kagami raised a hand sharply to cut him off. Kuroko flinched at the sudden movement, and whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips.

Kagami felt his heart crack in half. It had been threatening to do so all night, all week, ever since he'd realized that something was very, very wrong with his friend. But this, this involuntary reaction to his own movement, as harmless as he knew it to be, as they both knew it to be... That did it. It was too much. Kagami's heart couldn't bear the strain anymore, so it broke.

His breath caught, his hand sinking slowly to his side. Kuroko stared at the ground, and his face flamed red with embarrassment, which looked terrible layered over his sickly pallor. Kagami had to swallow a couple of times, choking down pieces of his shattered heart, before he could speak again.

"Kuroko...that bastard punched you in the stomach. So hard that I swear I could feel it two rooms away. That's not good. That...that can cause internal damage. It's how Houdini died. We need to get you checked out."

Kuroko shook his head, slow but certain. "No." His voice was soft, but it was sure. "I know what that feels like. This isn't it. It's just a bruise." He laid his hand carefully over his abdomen, like a frail bandage that cured nothing, comforted nothing. "Just a bruise," he said again, even softer. So soft that Kagami almost couldn't hear him.

Kagami swallowed again. He wanted to ask how Kuroko knew that. When did you feel that kind of pain? What happened? How many times? How old were you? At the same time, he didn't want to ask any of that at all.

Kuroko glanced sideways, meeting Kagami's eyes for a bare moment, then stared forward at the sidewalk again. "Believe me. I know the symptoms. If it starts to get that bad, I'll tell you, and we can go to a hospital. But now... I just want to go home. Please."

It was the "please" that did it. It sounded too much like the way Kuroko had said it to his father back in that hallway. When he was practically grovelling, doing everything in his power to get that drunken bastard back to his room without seeing Kagami. The word was small and pleading and it didn't sound like Kuroko at all. Not the Kuroko that Kagami knew, anyway.

Kagami slumped down, and the hand holding his phone slid into his pocket. "Fine," he said. "We'll go home. But if you won't let a doctor check you out, you have to at least let me take a look, okay? Just to make sure..."

To make sure what? That there were no gushing wounds? No broken bones? Nothing that warranted better expertise than Kagami's? Everything about this situation screamed for better expertise than Kagami's.

"To make sure," he concluded lamely, unable to say anything else.

Kuroko nodded. The bargain was struck.

They sat there a while longer, gaining strength. Kagami fidgeted inwardly, longing to get home and put this day behind them. He considering offering Kuroko a piggyback ride if it would get them going faster, but he knew the suggestion wouldn't be well-received, so he kept it to himself.

This entire situation felt utterly, utterly horrible to Kagami, but he knew that it was much worse for Kuroko. Seirin's shadow was a fierce competitor on the basketball court, but off the court he was one of the most polite and reserved people Kagami had ever met. Kuroko kept careful boundaries between himself and others, not because he didn't care or because he wasn't an emotional person—Kagami knew very well that he was—but out of a desire not to intrude. It was very Japanese of him, really, and Kagami was never more aware of the cultural differences between this nation and the one he'd spent many of his formative years in than when he was with Kuroko.

And now all of those careful boundaries had been shattered. Kuroko hadn't wanted Kagami to know what was happening to him. Maybe he would have asked for help eventually, when he was ready, when he was truly comfortable and truly felt that he could trust Kagami with his troubles. Maybe. Kagami chose to believe that, anyway. But now that choice had been taken away from Kuroko in the most horrific and violent way possible. He had to be feeling dreadfully out of control, as if his life had ripped free of its moorings, as tenuous and haphazard as they may have been, and hurtled into the roughest part of the river.

Kagami didn't want to make anything worse for his friend. He didn't want to contribute to his loss of control and choice unless there was no other way. So Kagami would agree to skip the visit to the hospital, at least for now. He would not offer to carry Kuroko no matter how much easier it would make the journey. And he would sit here, waiting, until Kuroko was ready to move.

The traffic signals blinked, on and off. Kuroko sat and breathed, long and steady. Slowly, slowly, the pallor of his face eased until he looked more like his usual self, though still profoundly disturbed and shattered under his usual veneer of serenity. His hands let go of his knees, the shaking eased, and his ramrod-straight posture began to relax.

At long last, Kuroko looked at Kagami and blinked, slow and meaningful.

"Are you ready?" Kagami asked.

Kuroko nodded. "Let's go home. Please."

Kagami gave a brisk nod and popped to his feet. He scooped up the bags and offered Kuroko a hand to haul him off the bench, but was not offended when Kuroko brushed aside the help and stood on his own. It was good that he was feeling strong and steady enough to do that.

"Do you know which train we should take to get to my place from here?" Kagami asked.

Kuroko nodded and led the way. Kagami kept close behind him, his gaze barely wavering from Kuroko's figure all the way to the station and onto the correct train. He still couldn't help the feeling that Kuroko would disappear if he didn't keep an eye on him every step of the way. If anything, the feeling was stronger than ever now.

Kuroko had a lot of reasons to want to disappear. For the first time since they'd met, Kagami understood that.

On the train, Kuroko slumped into a seat and leaned his head back against the window. Exhaustion painted his face and loosened his limbs, akimbo at his sides. Kagami sat next to him instead of standing, this time. He sat close enough that their sleeves brushed, but not so close as to make Kuroko uncomfortable. Or so he hoped.

Kuroko fell asleep with his head lolling on the glass. Kagami watched him, staring as long as he wanted to, since Kuroko couldn't feel the gaze on him and be discomfitted. Kuroko's eyelids fluttered uneasily even in the depths of slumber, so it must not be very good or very restful. Hopefully he would sleep better once they got back to Kagami's apartment.

When he'd had his fill of staring at Kuroko, Kagami faced forward and gazed blankly into the distant. He was exhausted, too. But the night was far from over. He knew that he needed to do things, now. Probably a lot of things. But he didn't know what they were.

Kagami needed help. He knew without asking, though, that Kuroko didn't want anyone else to get involved. Kagami might be able to persuade him otherwise, given time, but for now... It was best to keep this between the two of them for as long as possible. Let Kuroko continue to feel at least a little sense of control. That would be the best thing.

But Kagami could ask for advice, at least. After a long, considering interval, Kagami pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the messaging service.

To: Himuro
Aniki, I found out that one of my classmates is being abused by his father.

He stared at the message for a long time before he hit the send button. Abused. Kuroko was abused. It seemed like a horrible joke, like one of those sappy made-for-TV dramas that aired in America on Sunday afternoons. It didn't seem like it could possibly be happening to Kagami in real life. Surely that wasn't the way the world was supposed to work.

Alex used to like those dramas, sometimes, and Kagami and Himuro had been conned into watching a few with her when she was in a weird mood. Kagami usually fell asleep halfway through. Maybe Himuro remembered more.

Kagami touched the send button, then swallowed against the lump in his throat. He had no idea when Himuro would respond, if he even had his phone with him or would notice that he had a message.

To: Himuro
Before you tell me that I should tell the authorities, I know. I know I should. I probably won't, though. Not until he's ready.
I got him out of there. I'm taking him back to my home. I told him that he'll never have to go back to that place again.
It was a stupid promise, maybe, but I made it. Now I want to keep it.
What should I do, Aniki? I'm...scared.

Kagami stared for a long time at that last message, too. Longer than he had at the first one. Finally, he touched the send button. He let the hand holding his phone fall down to rest on his leg, and he looked up at the metal ceiling and blew out a long, gusty sigh.

This day was horrible. It was the worst.

The train rattled and shook as it chugged around a bend. Something small and warm touched against Kagami's shoulder, so soft and light that he barely noticed. He rolled his head over and looked down. Kuroko's head had slid against the glass, and now it was resting on Kagami's shoulder.

Kagami smiled and looked forward again. His heart hurt. His entire chest just ached with all of the pressure and pain rushing through him. Things could be a lot, lot better.

But they could also be worse.