Kuroko didn't want his own jacket back. He seemed perfectly happy to drown in Mitobe's. Which was...not really a surprise, Kagami supposed. Kuroko had run away behind the gym and hidden in some bushes, for pity's sake. He obviously needed to feel sheltered for a while, and Mitobe and Koganei had provided that for him.

Mitobe didn't want his jacket back from Kuroko, either. He hovered around Kuroko like a lanky bear, unwilling to be separated from him. The dampness on his face might have been the rain. Might have been.

The rest of the team hustled the rain-soaked duo back into the gym, and Furihata and the other first years fetched towels to rub Mitobe down. Mitobe accepted the handling with as much grace as he could, though he grimaced when they forced circulation back into his shivering limbs. Kuroko was not in as bad a shape, since Mitobe had protected him, but he was chilled. He let Kagami sit next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, but he shrank away when Furihata held out a towel. No one forced him to accept a rub down.

Aomine kept a fair distance. It might have been of his own volition, or it might have been because Koganei had taken up glaring at him like it was his job. "Mitobe says you're a jerk," he told him at one point. Mitobe nodded, eyes narrowed in distrust.

Aomine looked properly ashamed, if not a little exasperated.

It was up to Kuroko to restore the peace. Once everyone had calmed down a bit, and he'd had time to process everything, he looked up and met Aomine's eyes. He was currently sitting on a bench with Kagami on one side and Mitobe on the other, so perhaps he felt sheltered enough to deal with it now. "I'm sorry I called you selfish, Aomine-kun."

Aomine scuffed his shoe on the floor. "Well, you were right. I am selfish. Almost all the time. I shouldn't have pushed you, and I should have listened to you when you refused. You were right—I wanted to play basketball with you because it was what I wanted. I want you to be okay because it makes me uncomfortable when you're not. Like...something is just wrong with the world when you aren't yourself."

Mitobe's eyes softened, and he and Koganei exchanged a glance. The hostile tension in their shoulders started to ease. Kuroko just nodded slowly.

"I'm not okay, Aomine-kun. I'm really, really not okay. I was trying to hide, for a while, just how very much I am not okay, but it didn't work at all. So... I will try to be more honest, too. I need to stop pretending."

He looked at the team gathered around him, all watching him with concern while trying not to crowd him. He met the eyes of his coach and his captain, and Kiyoshi, who once again held Nigou cradled in his arms. Then he looked up at Mitobe, beside him.

"Thank you for listening to me earlier. It was selfish and cowardly of me to ask you to bear that secret, knowing already that you would never tell anyone else."

Mitobe shook his head and smiled sadly, then reached up to pat him on the head.

"Mitobe says..." Koganei started.

"I know." Kuroko gave him a smile. He looked back to Mitobe. "I know you don't mind, that you are happy to help me carry this burden. But it still wasn't fair of me. You won't even tell Koganei-senpai, and the two of you share almost everything."

He drew a deep breath and looked around at everyone again. "So I think... I think I should just tell you all what's going on with me. Why I'm not okay. Why I might not be okay for a long time. Half of you know already, and it's not fair to ask you to keep secrets from your teammates. You all deserve to know. You are all my precious friends, and I don't want to pretend in front of you anymore."

Kagami was amazed. Just a few days ago, Kuroko hadn't even been able to share his troubles with Aomine, one of his oldest friends. But today he had been able to tell Mitobe? And now he wanted to tell everyone else? Kagami eyed the tall senpai on Kuroko's other side with renewed respect. Mitobe must have succeeded very, very well at making Kuroko feel safe and secure.

"Kuroko..." Coach Riko's voice was hesitant. She must be remembering, too, how impossible it had been for Kuroko to share this on his own just last Friday. "You don't have to do this."

Kuroko shook his head gently. "No, I... I think I do. I think I need to."

But then he went still. He stared down at his lap, his hands curled into fists clutching the fabric over his thighs. The sleeves of Mitobe's jacket bunched around his wrists and hung loosely around his shoulders, making him seem smaller and more fragile than he really was.

The team all but held their breath. Furihata and Fukuda exchanged glances. Izuki watched Kuroko without blinking, his entire being radiating stillness and waiting. Koganei looked at Mitobe, as if expecting that he might learn the truth there, but Mitobe shook his head, his eyes on Kuroko.

Finally, Kuroko raised his head again. His face was pale, but his jaw was set. "I had to leave my home last week. I can't live there anymore. My father was..." He paused, gulping. He looked like he might be sick. But he pushed on. "My father was hurting me. Very badly. He hit me. He beat my back until it bled. He called me a demon and said he had to punish me to turn me human."

Furihata's knees slowly gave way, dropping him to the floor of the gym in utter silence. He knelt there, his arms wrapped around his middle, devastated. Fukuda and Kawahara gripped each other's forearms, their faces drawn in dismay. And still Kuroko's voice went on, gently destroying them all.

"I did my best to fix it, but I couldn't. It just got worse and worse. So I had to leave. I didn't want to, but I had to."

He was shaking now. Tremors ran through his body like a low-level earthquake, vibrating his limbs and rattling his voice. Kagami pressed him tight into his side, and Mitobe scooted even closer to him on the bench.

"My body still bears the marks, though they're healing," Kuroko continued. His voice was soft and clear, even as it trembled. It seemed to ring in the silent gym. "But I've begun to realize...that my soul carries marks as well. So I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I don't know when I'll be okay again."

Tsuchida wrung his hands together until his knuckles turned white. Izuki still stood where he was and watched Kuroko without blinking, though his eyes had begun to water. Koganei crept over to Mitobe and leaned against him.

Kuroko looked around at them, taking in what his words had done. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to hurt you all with this. I kept it a secret partly because of that, and partly because I was ashamed. I have been told, many times, that none of this is my fault, but I don't believe that yet. So I will beg your forgiveness for telling you this and ask for your patience in the days ahead. I want to be with this team. I want to play basketball again. I want to be myself, whole and complete and unafraid. So I will try to get there again. Please wait for me."

Silence held for a moment, thick enough to cut. Then Hyuuga stepped forward, his entire body stiff with pain, hands bunched into fists at his side with nothing to fight. "Of course," he said, his voice harsh and intense. "You don't even have to ask. We'll wait as long as we have to. We'll do whatever we need to do. We want you back, Kuroko, and we always will. If you reach out to us, we'll reach back to you. We'll grab your hands and pull as hard as we can. Give us half a chance, and we'll prove it to you."

Kuroko sat still for a moment, his eyes wide, stunned into silence. Then he smiled and looked down. His hands loosened in his lap, releasing the fabric he'd been clenching. "Somehow I hoped you might say something like that."

"We all mean it," someone else said. It could have been anyone. There was a general murmur of agreement, a building of energy in the gym. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room while Kuroko shared his secret, taking away everyone's ability to breathe, but now it returned with the fierce determination of their captain.

"We'll take care of you."

"Everything will be all right."

"Anything you need, just let us know."

"We want you to be well, Kuroko-kun."

"Can I punch him? Tell me where he lives so I can go punch him."

Kuroko smiled, slow and resigned. He shook his head, then looked up, taking it in. "You are all very kind. But please don't punch my father again. It will not improve anything."

"Oh, someone already punched him? That's a start, then."

Kagami squeezed Kuroko's shoulders, shaking him gently, and dared to grin. "That was a good speech, Captain. But what was with the corny lines, huh? 'We'll grab your hands and pull back'? How is that any better than what I said during the Kaijou match?"

Hyuuga turned very red. "Cheeky...little...kouhai…" he sputtered out, but he didn't really have a rebuttal.

The tension broke for good. Someone laughed, then someone else. Izuki turned away and wiped the tears from his eyes, but he was smiling. Furihata got back to his feet, and Fukuda patted his back while Kawahara ruffled his hair. Some of the attention that had been making Kuroko tense and uncomfortable began to drift away.

"Better watch out, Kagami, or Captain will karate chop your head!" Tsuchida called, and Kiyoshi snickered behind his hand.

Coach Riko rolled her eyes at them all and called for cool-down. A few of the players moved back to the court to start cleaning up. Practice was effectively over for the day. They were all too off-balance now to get any good out of further drills.

Mitobe patted Kuroko's head, then rose to his feet to join the work.

"Mitobe says you're very brave, Kuroko," Koganei said. "Me too." He sounded choked up, but entirely sincere. He waved his hand and hurried after his buddy.

Kuroko shook his head and glanced up at Kagami. "I don't feel brave," he confessed. "I felt desperate, like I didn't have a choice. It was too much to keep inside myself, so I had to let it burst out, even knowing what a mess it would make. I don't deserve any admiration for this."

"It was still brave," Kagami said. "You did something you were afraid of. That's brave. I understand why you don't feel that way, but I think we can choose for ourselves whether or not we think you deserve admiration. And we do. You're much stronger than you think you are."

Kuroko huddled into Kagami's side, shivering. "Don't praise me," he muttered. "I can't accept it right now."

Kagami sighed, but fell silent and allowed him his space. At least Kuroko was being more assertive about his needs again. That had to be a good thing. It had been disconcerting, how quiet and passive Kuroko had been over the last few days.

Finally, Aomine approached and sat on Kuroko's other side, though he was careful to leave some distance between them on the bench. "I truly am sorry, Tetsu," he said. His face was red and strained, as if he had to struggle very hard to work up to those words.

Kuroko shook his head, rubbing it into Kagami's side. "Don't worry about it. I know you meant well. And maybe...maybe I will do some floor bounces with you later. Just...to see."

"Really?" Aomine's face lit up.

"Not yet. Not today or tomorrow. Maybe…" Kuroko's body tensed. It was difficult for him to set this goal, but he knew he had to do it. "Next Monday?"

Aomine nodded, his face opening in relief. "I'll be here."

Kagami smiled. "Sounds good. But today...let's go to Maji Burger."

Kuroko pulled away from his side and looked up at him. Exhaustion dragged at his limbs and weighed down his eyes, but there was a spark of interest there, even so. "Vanilla shake?"

Kagami grinned. "You want vanilla shake? I'll get you ten. You deserve it."

Kuroko shook his head, but a small smile was playing on his lips. "One is sufficient, thank you."

"One vanilla shake it is, then."

It was a start.

A/N: So yeah, this is another chapter drawn from my experience. It's very hard to tell people, even when you know they won't reject you. I had a mental breakdown in my third year of college, stemming from what happened to me when I was a child. I was on a leadership team at the time, and I chose to share with them what was going on with me. It wasn't quite as dramatic as this, but the feelings were very similar. People told me I was brave, but I didn't feel brave at all. I felt small and helpless and desperate. I don't feel brave now, either. This is just a story I have to tell, that's all.

But if you have similar problems, let me tell you—it helps to share. The more people who know, the more diluted it becomes. The world becomes less and less split up into "those who know" and "those who don't" as you lose track of how many are in the first group. Not everyone may respond well. Some may not care. Some may see you differently, just as you fear. Still tell them. It's not your secret, anyway. It's the secret of the person who hurt you. With each person you tell, you are striking back at the rules they forced on you. Break them all.