A reviewer was worried about how dark this was gonna get, so I'll make some notes here. Yes, Kuroko is depressed. Of course he is. He just lost pretty much everything he had, including basketball as far as he can tell, and he feels like a failure. There's a lot of darkness left in this story. But there won't be any self-harm or attempted suicide. Maybe some discussion of it, but that's it. Kuroko felt like he wanted to die in the worst times, but he never really wanted to end his own life. He just wanted it to stop. It's how I've felt in the past, in my darkest times, so that's where it's coming from.

There's a lot of light coming very soon, though. In this chapter: Literal fluff. SO much of it. You will die of fluff.

Thank you for reading and reviewing and commenting and everything else! It means the world to me.

"Kuroko, wake up."

Kagami's voice was quiet, but something like excitement surged underneath. Kuroko dragged his eyes open and found Kagami kneeling by the bed, looking into his face. He grinned, broad and happy and eager, when he saw Kuroko's eyes. "Good morning, Kuroko!"

"Good morning, Kagami-kun." Kuroko glanced around the room behind Kagami, trying to understand what was going on. The light was advanced, bathing the room in golden beams—how long had he slept in? Kuroko still felt exhausted, a deep and heavy weariness dragging at his bones, but that was normal now.

Nothing presented itself as an explanation for Kagami's eager smile. Kuroko returned his attention to Kagami's face. "Did you wake me because I slept too long?"

Kagami shook his head. "You can sleep as much as you want." The smile fell away for a moment as he studied Kuroko closely. "In fact, you still look feverish. You should go back to sleep as soon as possible." But the smile tugged at his mouth again, impossible to suppress. "No, I woke you up because I need your pillow and blankets. For the fort."

Kuroko blinked. Words were coming out of Kagami's mouth, but they had ceased to make sense. "...What."

"Get up and I'll show you." Kagami straightened from his position and held out his hand.

Kuroko stared up at him for a moment, still befuddled and uncertain. Kagami seemed to glow in the morning sunlight with cheer and good health. He was a beacon, and he was reaching toward Kuroko as if he meant to take him to there, to a place where even a shadow could bathe in the sun.

Kuroko could not continue to lie abed with that invitation open to him. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, suppressing a groan when the movement tugged at his sore muscles, his abraded back. A t-shirt hung loosely from his shoulders—one of Kagami's, Kuroko was pretty sure. He had a fuzzy memory of Kagami draping him in this after he'd finished treating his back, but it felt distant and dream-like. He was grateful for it now, in any case—the light fabric rested gently on his back, and if he held very still he could almost forget how badly he ached.

Kuroko took Kagami's hand, and Kagami hauled him to his feet. Then he nudged Kuroko aside and turned to plunder the bedding. Kuroko watched while Kagami gathered all of the blankets into a messy pile. Before he picked them up, though, he turned and set the pillow carefully in Kuroko's hands. "You can carry that."

Kuroko nodded. Kagami scooped up the blankets and led the way out the door. He was almost trotting, he was so eager to show Kuroko what he'd been up to. Kuroko followed at his heels, down the hallway to the main room, and there he halted, blinking.

Kagami dumped the blankets from Kuroko's bed next to his creation. Then he stood still with his hands on his hips, beaming proudly as he looked from Kuroko to the...whatever it was...in the middle of the room. He was clearly expecting to be praised. It reminded Kuroko of Nigou after he'd performed a trick. And once again, Kuroko ignored the familiar pang in his heart at the thought of his missing dog.

Kuroko didn't understand what this trick even was. Kagami had gathered all of the bedding and pillows in the house, as well as a significant portion of the furniture. It was all piled up together, western-style chairs forming a circle, facing outward, with blankets stretched over the top and textbooks on the seats holding the blankets down. More blankets were draped over the bottoms of the chairs, making the interior of the pile into a dark, cave-like space. The floor of the space was covered with pillows.

"It's great, isn't it?" Kagami asked, tired of waiting for Kuroko to comment.

Kuroko blinked at him. "Yes, but... What is it?"

"It's a blanket fort. Obviously." Kagami bent down to scoop up the blankets he'd dropped. He pushed them into the opening of the "fort," making the floor even more bunched-up and lumpy. There was no attempt at organization or neatness.

Kuroko had no idea what to say to that. "Ah. I see."

"Give me that." Kagami reached out his long arms and plucked the pillow from Kuroko's hands, then crawled into the blanket fort and put it with the rest. Then he plopped down in the middle of the pile and grinned out at Kuroko. "There. All set."

What was all set? Kuroko would never call himself brilliant, but he was truly mystified by his inability to grasp what was happening here.

Kagami seemed oblivious to Kuroko's discomfort. He patted the pillows next to him with a look of supreme satisfaction. "C'mon. Try it out."

Kuroko hesitated.

Kagami rolled his eyes. "Do you need a formal invitation?" He scooted to the side to make more room for Kuroko, then spread his arms magnanimously. "Please come in, Kuroko Tetsuya. You are welcome in my home. Also in my blanket fort. Mi casa es su casa."

Kuroko was pretty sure the last part wasn't even English. He eyed Kagami askance, but finally got down and crawled into the fort next to him. Kagami leaned over to make room as Kuroko awkwardly backed up and sat next to him. He lost his balance and all but fell the last few centimeters, but there was no jarring stop, no thud as he hit the floor. It felt like sinking into a giant pile of fluff.

Once he was inside, properly situated in the mess of pillows and blankets, something changed. Kuroko felt a hardness loosen between his shoulder blades, along his neck, some ache of tension that he hadn't known was there. The space was small but not cramped, the light dim and filtered as it shone through gaps and thin places in the cloth roof and walls. Kagami was warm at his side, breathing calm and steady.

It was...peaceful.

Kuroko looked at Kagami, blinking long and slow. "Why?"

Kagami shrugged, looking around at his accomplishment with that same sparkle of satisfied glee. "I don't know. I woke up and I wanted to make a blanket fort. So I did. There was no reason not to."

"And what...what exactly is this?"

Kagami narrowed his eyes at him. "It's...a blanket fort," he said slowly, as if repeating the words would help the phrase make more sense. "It's a fort made out of blankets. And pillows, obviously. And some furniture, in most cases. I used chairs."

Kuroko looked around, taking it in. "I see."

"Do kids in Japan not make blanket forts?" Kagami sounded uncertain all of a sudden.

Kuroko gave him a smile. "I don't know. I never did."

Kagami grunted thoughtfully and knocked his hand against the leg of a chair next to him. "I guess it's harder in a country that doesn't put much stock in chairs. And sofas. The futons made for a really good foundation, though." He pressed his hand down beside him as if in proof.

Kuroko felt himself settling in. His posture began to ease, and his hands rested at his sides. He didn't understand what impulse had driven Kagami to do this—and apparently Kagami didn't understand, either—but Kuroko was finding it quite pleasant, really.

"What now?" he asked. "What do children generally do in...blanket forts?"

"Whatever you want." Kagami started crawling toward the opening. "First we need to eat, though. You stay here—I'll bring breakfast to you."

Outside, he started to stand, then paused and crouched back down to look in at Kuroko again. "Do you want rice and natto, or do you want to have what I'm making for myself?"

Kuroko blinked. He hadn't expected to be given a choice. "What...what are you having?" he asked cautiously. He hoped it wouldn't be anything too weird.

Kagami grinned. "I'm making pancakes. Big, fluffy, American pancakes. Maybe with chocolate chips. I've been saving the chocolate chips, but this seems like a good time to use them." He paused, then nodded to himself. "Maybe I'll even break out the real maple syrup. I only have a tiny jar, though." He looked at Kuroko. "You want some?"

Kuroko considered. This sounded...not too weird. But rather sweet. More like a dessert than a breakfast. Kagami seemed excited though, and it made Kuroko want to share in that excitement. It made him want to understand Kagami and why he was so pleased by things like blanket forts and fluffy American pancakes.

He looked at Kagami and nodded. "Yes, please."

Kagami's grin got even bigger. "Great! You stay here and relax. I'll make food for us."

He bounced to his feet and trotted away, whistling. Kuroko sank back into the blankets and pillows on his side and closed his eyes. He was still so tired, and his face felt too warm—Kagami was right, he must be feverish. But it was really nice in here. He wanted to sleep, wanted to doze off in this warmth and this comfort, this nest that Kagami had made for him. But he also wanted to stay awake and listen to the noises of Kagami moving around in the kitchen and just...enjoy it.

It had been a long time since he'd just...enjoyed something. Besides basketball, of course, but now that was tainted, too...

Kuroko shivered and curled up into himself. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about the promise he'd made last night. He'd said that he would talk, that he would tell Kagami everything...

It was like picking at a scab or the edge of a bloody wound. Once he'd remembered it was there, Kuroko couldn't stop thinking about it. He rolled over on his stomach and pressed his face into the nearest pillow. He didn't want to cry, he didn't want...

He'd been so happy just a few minutes ago, or at least as close as Kuroko could get right now to feeling happy. He'd been comfortable; he'd been content. He'd been curious and alert and appreciating Kagami's strange quirks, his odd little ways of showing his kindness to Kuroko. Now all of that seemed lost in sadness. It was like he'd been buried in a mudslide, and now he couldn't move.

He didn't understand why it was happening now. It made sense when he was sad under his father's roof. But now he was free of that place. He was in Kagami's home. Kagami was being nothing but kind to him. Even last night, when he'd been trying so hard to get Kuroko to talk to him, had been meant kindly. So why was Kuroko sad now? Was he that ungrateful, that heartless?

He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve all of the kindness and attention that Kagami was lavishing on him. He should have tried to hide it better; he should have stayed away. All he could do now was bring Kagami down. He couldn't even play basketball...

A sudden pounding on the front door cut off Kuroko's thoughts. He sat up straight, his heart in his throat. Kagami's voice in the kitchen stopped mid-pop lyric. Who could it be? It couldn't be... No, Kuroko's father had no idea where his friends lived, Kuroko hadn't left any of that information lying around the apartment, and the school wouldn't give it out for confidentiality reasons, there was no way...

The pounding continued. Something thunked in the kitchen, and Kagami's big feet stomped toward the door. "Shut up already, I'm coming, I'm coming..."

Kagami didn't sound nervous. He sounded irritated at the interruption, like he expected whatever was on the other side of the door to be something he didn't want to deal with. Kuroko moved toward the opening of the blanket fort, feeling choked and desperate. No, don't do it, don't open the door...

Kuroko was shaking. He put his feet on the floor and tried to stand up, tried to call out, but he could barely coordinate his limbs. Kagami was already at the door, already opening it, before Kuroko was completely clear of the fort.

"I'm here! Stop pounding, idiot!"

Kuroko halted, his feet spread on the floor as he fought to keep his balance. His head was swooping. Kagami sounded like he already knew who was going to be there, like he was expecting someone...

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." A familiar voice. Kuroko knew that voice, but it was so unexpected in this context that he couldn't place it at first. He'd never dreamed that this person would come here. "What was with that text message, huh? Your manners could use some work, Kagami."

"Whatever. It got you to come, didn't it? And you brought..."

"Yeah, of course I did."

Another sound piped up. The bark of a dog, small and excited and happy. Kuroko's breath caught in his throat and his body froze for a split second, unable to respond. Then he scrambled for the hallway, moving so quickly that he almost tripped over his own feet.

"Nigou!" Kuroko fell to his knees.

Aomine stood in the doorway, looking at him with raised eyebrows over Kagami's shoulder, who was half-turned to look at him. Nigou pulled frantically on the leash, and Aomine stumbled forward and lost his grip. Nigou plunged down the hall, barking fit to burst his little doggy lungs. Kuroko opened his arms.

Nigou crashed into his chest. Kuroko closed his arms around him, but couldn't hold him still. His lap was full of jumping, wiggling, barking dog, frantically trying to lick his face and his hands and his arms and his neck and every other scrap of bare skin.

"Nigou, Nigou, Nigou."

Kuroko bent his head and buried his face in Nigou's fur. Nigou went still, shaking all over as his tail wagged desperately back and forth. Kuroko didn't want to cry. He'd had enough of crying.

But somehow, tears leaked out anyway.