Kuroko's fever was slightly better the next morning, and it never rose high enough that Kagami felt obligated to take him to the hospital. But he was still dizzy and uncomfortable enough that Kagami insisted he should stay home from school. "Don't worry about a note or anything," he said. "I'll have Dad call the school later."
"But...he's not my legal guardian..."
"Dad will figure something out." Kagami's voice was entirely assured. "Don't worry about it. Just go back to sleep. I'd stay with you if I could, but..."
Kuroko waved a hand, lazily shooing him away. Once again, he was in bed, Kagami sitting on the edge and watching his face. "Go to school, Kagami-kun. Stay for basketball practice. I'll be fine by myself."
Kagami slumped where he sat. "Fine, I will. But you have to keep hydrated. I'll bring you some tea before I go." He stood up and started to walk toward the door, then turned back. "And you have to keep checking your temperature, and if it gets too high call me right away and I'll come home and get you to the hospital. Or I'll meet you there, if it's bad enough. I'll leave the key so you can lock door behind you if you have to leave. Unless you're too dizzy, then you should just call an ambulance. Or..."
He stopped, overwhelmed with everything that could go wrong. "You know what, I'll just stay here."
"Kagami-kun." Kuroko pushed himself upright, just to prove that he could. He only felt a tiny bit dizzy. He swung his legs over to put his feet on the floor, then slowly, carefully stood up and tottered over to Kagami so he stood face to face with him. "Kagami-kun. Go to school. I'll be okay. See? I'm standing. Everything is all right."
Kagami wavered, staring into his face. "If you're sure..."
"I'm sure."
Kuroko shoved on Kagami's elbow to turn him around, then placed both hands on his back and pushed him through the door. He was weak enough that he wouldn't have been able to move him at all if Kagami had planted his feet, but Kagami played along and let Kuroko maneuver him around. "All right, all right," he said good-naturedly. "I'll go to school. You go back to bed."
Kuroko did as he was told. He lay there on top of the covers, staring up at the ceiling, until his eyes slipped shut. He was aware of Kagami bringing various articles to set on the nightstand near his head, but felt no need to open his eyes and check. Then, at last, Kagami gently ruffled his fingers through Kuroko's hair. "Feel better, little brother," he murmured in English as he padded away. Kuroko drifted off to the sound of Kagami locking the apartment door behind him as he left.
He woke every hour or so, the time chipped away by the clock on the wall. He drank the lukewarm tea Kagami had set on his nightstand, then shuffled into the kitchen to make more. His temperature remained steady—uncomfortably high but not dangerously so. Kagami had left packets of ramen on the counter in hopes that Kuroko would get hungry enough to want some, but he left them alone. The tea was enough.
Toward the middle of the day, Kuroko began staying awake for longer and longer periods. He curled up on his side and stared at the wall, or sprawled on his back and stared at the ceiling. His back almost didn't hurt him at all anymore, only twinging when he moved too quickly or stretched too much.
Kagami had put up a few of his basketball posters on the walls, though others lay in a pile on the brand-new desk, recently assembled. Hyuuga and Kiyoshi had come over one evening and put that desk together, as well as Kuroko's new bookcases. It had been entertaining to watch them fight over every single step of the process. Kuroko smiled now, remembering it.
He was starting to feel well enough to be lonely. It was strange. In his father's house, the emptiness had been a blessing. He was grateful when his father wasn't home, when the quiet rooms echoed with every small movement he made, every breath that left his lips. He had missed Nigou, but he had also been glad that no one else was there to bear the burden of that place.
In the first few days after Kagami brought him here, Kuroko had desperately needed company. He had panicked internally every time Kagami left his sight, even for a few seconds. He was pretty sure that he'd done a good enough job of hiding it that Kagami wasn't aware, even now. That sense of clinging terror in his heart had faded, leaving Kuroko feeling more like himself, but he still wasn't quite ready to be alone.
Kagami's place was really nice. It was warm and comfortable, lit with golden sunlight streaming in all of the large, expansive windows. It felt like Kagami: big and bright and welcoming. But the rooms were empty now, filled only with the hum of appliances and the slightly wheezing sound of his own breath.
Kuroko wanted a vanilla milkshake. He wanted a blanket fort. He wanted to lean his head on Kagami's shoulder and watch a Ghibli movie. He wanted Hiroshi-san to ruffle his hair the way Kagami always did. He wanted to know for certain that he belonged here, always and always, that his father would never be able to take him back no matter how hard he tried.
Did that mean...the grief was gone? Kuroko prodded at himself, at the deeply hidden seat of his emotions, in curiosity more than anything. His barriers had fallen, and he had given up on rebuilding them. Everything had been so...raw. So immediate. But then he had told Mitobe his troubles, and then the team...
It had been frightening. Terrifying. But it had also been a relief. He didn't have think about it anymore. Didn't have to try to hide the way he flinched at sudden movements, his winces when he pulled at his sores, his need for companionship and comfort. Perhaps it was true that a burden shared was a burden halved, and shared with so many...
The grief was still there. Of course it was. But it was greatly lessened. And it was overlaid with new feelings, with Kuroko's happiness to be where he was, with his desire to stay here. With his trust in Kagami and Hiroshi-san and the Seirin team to care for him and keep him safe. He still missed his family and his home, and that was natural. There was a part of him that would always regret the way things had turned out. But he was also glad to have a new family. A new home. That was natural, too.
The solution to Kuroko's grief had not been to hide it and suppress it and ignore it forever. The solution had been to air it out in the sun, to let other things flow on top of it. It was a welcome discovery.
But he was still lonely.
Kuroko drank more tea and went back to bed. He buried himself under as many blankets as he could stand. The gentle weight felt good, covering and sheltering him. He ducked his head down under the pile, too, leaving only a small opening to breathe out of. It was like a tiny, personal blanket fort. Or, well, maybe it was more like a turtle. Sleep came easily, despite the small, hidden ache of loneliness in his chest.
Kuroko was woken by the buzz of his cellphone vibrating against the surface of the nightstand. He pushed his head out of the shell of blankets and blinked sleepily at the wall. The clock showed that it was about time for school to end and club activities to begin. Kagami must be checking on him before he went to practice.
Kuroko stretched out one hand, fumbling away from the blankets, and snagged the cell phone to pull it back to his face. He opened the messaging program, his eyes half-shut. He would just tell Kagami that he was fine, his fever hadn't risen, and then he would go back to sleep...
Kuroko's eyes opened wide. Wider. So wide that they hurt. The message wasn't from Kagami.
It was from his father.
From: Father
Tetsuya, I'm sorry.
Kuroko's hand trembled. There were more messages.
From: Father
I got the promotion. I started taking the medicine again, as I promised.
I realized what I'd done. I'm so very sorry, Tetsuya. I'm the lowest of the low.
I beg your forgiveness. Please come back home. It will never happen again.
The phone slipped from Kuroko's fingers. He covered his face with his hands. He was shaking hard now, shivering the pile of blankets that covered him. Why? Why now? He had just been starting to feel...happy. Something like happiness, anyway. Relief. Contentment. Hope.
This had to be a joke. It had to be some horrible prank of the universe. It couldn't be true. He must have read it wrong. The messages weren't really from his father. They were from...from...
The phone buzzed again, so near his face that Kuroko recoiled. His ran into the wall and hit his back so hard that the force stunned him and he lost his breath. Every last ache erupted in pain. And here he had thought that that was under control, too.
His hand shook wildly as he lifted the phone again and turned it toward himself so he could read the new message.
From: Father
Someone punched me, didn't they? I deserved it.
That, at least, Kuroko could respond to. It took him some time to control his shuddering enough to push the right buttons.
To: Father
Yes. You did.
More messages came hard and fast.
From: Father
Tetsuya! Where are you? Are you at school?
I thought you left. Or was that a dream?
Please come home. I'll make up for everything I've done.
I miss you, son. I was a fool. I love you.
Please come back. Everything will be all right.
Where are you? Please tell me where you are. I'll come and get you.
Kuroko's mind went almost white. His father? Here?
No. Never. It must never be allowed to happen. Kuroko would do anything to prevent his new home from being tainted the way his old one had been.
And he couldn't go back there. He couldn't. No. No. No.
From: Father
I understand if you don't want to talk to me. That's why I thought a text would be best.
I understand that I hurt you, and it will take time to prove to you that I'm sincere now.
I truly am sorry, Tetsuya, I swear it.
There has never been a more miserable man in all the earth.
Please come back to me and let me prove myself again.
I love you. I'm sorry. Please come back.
Kuroko went very, very still. How many times had he dreamed of this? In the darkest times, when his father was beating him, or when he lay on his bed in the aftermath of another punishment, there were two things he had longed with every corner of his aching heart. He had longed for death, so he wouldn't have to bear this torment anymore. Or he had longed for the father he knew to return, to rescue him from this monstrosity of darkness and hate, this twisted demon who gave him nothing but pain and despair.
But he couldn't believe this. He couldn't trust these words on a screen with nothing behind them. It could be a joke. Or a dream. Or a delusion. It could be nothing but the product of a lonely, fevered mind.
To: Father
I can't come back. You don't understand what you did.
You don't understand how badly you hurt me.
How can you? You enjoyed what you did to me.
I saw that in you. I can never forget that.
From: Father
I know I can't understand. Please let me find out.
If you can't come home, please meet me somewhere so we can talk.
I will prove myself to you if it's the last thing I do.
Kuroko forced himself to breathe. Maybe... Maybe this was the best thing to do. Yes. To meet somewhere. To evaluate the situation.
None of this could be true. It had to be a lie. The there was a pinprick of hope in his heart, now, and he could not deny that, no matter how painful it was. He had to know for sure.
To: Father
The Maji Burger near Seirin High. One hour.
I'll be sitting in a booth in the back. Sit across from me.
Don't try to touch me, or I'll leave at once.
From: Father
I understand. Thank you for giving me a chance, Tetsuya.
I love you. I'll see you in one hour.
Kuroko set the phone down on the pillow and covered his face with his hands. He tried to breathe through his panic. What had he done? What was he doing? He had no idea.
But he had to go through with it now. He had to be at Maji Burger in one hour.
He gave himself five minutes to shiver and cry. Then he pushed the blankets off his shoulders, sat up, and put his feet on the floor. Fifty-five minutes.
He would be there.