The surprise of the morning the next day comes in the form of the slight brush of fingers when both of them had reached for Kuroko's comb at the same time. Kuroko had looked up in surprise at Akashi, retracting his hand to allow the redhead to pick up the comb. He brushes Kuroko's hair, grumbling about what a chore it was as if he hadn't voluntarily reached for the brush; but Kuroko voices no complaints. Akashi does it again the next morning after that, and the morning after that, and the morning after that morning he even manages to do without complaining - only an amused sigh in place of his usual look of furtive disdain - and within a week, it had become a 'thing' for Akashi to brush Kuroko's bed hair in the morning. The two of them would come down to breakfast together, much to the pleasant surprise of Kuroko's mother.

Sometimes, Akashi would even place more food onto Kuroko's plate with the excuse that he wasn't eating nearly enough and Kuroko would grumble but he'd eat it anyways. When they sat on the couch, they'd sometimes sit just a tad bit closer to each other - a respectable distance to where at least they weren't sitting stiffly on opposite ends as if trying to utilize all five feet of the couch to keep away from each other - and even though Kuroko wouldn't let Akashi choose which movie to watch, Akashi would have his own fun by managing to guess every single culprit in the mystery ones and guess all the plot events of the cheap action flicks, much to Kuroko's chagrin. And sometimes, when the stars were aligned and the mood was perfectly right and Kuroko was feeling particularly bold, Kuroko would dare to scoot just a tiny bit closer to Akashi to where if he moved another few mere inches, their knees would be brushing.

And sometimes, Akashi wouldn't scoot away.

It was a Friday when Kuroko was awoken by sunlight filtering in through the window and voices downstairs and after sparing a cursory glance at the alarm clock, he sees just how late it was. By now, Ogiwara must have come and gone. He drags himself downstairs only to find that, with great surprise and confusion, Akashi and Ogiwara were talking to each other - Akashi still in his bed hair and pajamas and Ogiwara with the smile that shined brighter than the sun - in what mostly seemed to be a one sided conversation.

"Kurokooooo!" Ogiwara sang cheerfully when he sees Kuroko on the stairs and Akashi turns around, annoyance and exasperation written over his face as his gaze flits between Kuroko and Ogiwara, as if debating who was the lesser of two evils.

"Your friend -" Akashi starts, pursing his lips. He says 'friend' in that disdainful way again, as if he couldn't believe Kuroko had friends, or perhaps, couldn't believe that he was friends with someone who was his complete antithesis. Or knowing Akashi, both.

"Ah, Sei-san, don't be so uptight!" Ogiwara interjects, his smile not faltering for a second and Akashi looks rather pained at the nickname, Kuroko stifling a giggle.

"Don't call me Sei-san!" Akashi says irritatedly, batting away Ogiwara.

"Don't be like that Sei-san."

"Sei-san?" Kuroko asks in amusement.

"I told him to stop calling me that," Akashi grumbles. "But he won't stop. Don't call me Sei!"

"Why not? It sounds cute."

"I'm not cute!"

"Yeah, he's real ugly," Kuroko adds and Akashi glares at him. "Don't worry, Akashi-kun, I'm sure I could fix it with a few punches to your face, would you like me to try?"

"Looks like you're in need of some help too," Akashi sneers. "People worse off shouldn't talk."

"Now, now, don't argue, Kuroko, Sei-san -"

"Don't call me that!"

"Ogiwara-kun is Ogiwara-kun," Kuroko shrugs mischievously and Akashi looks as if he wanted to ask about the implications, but decided against it in the end.

Kuroko had assumed that he and Akashi were getting along decently well, until Akashi refused to speak to him one morning. Or to anyone, for that matter. He didn't seem to want to function, wrapping himself up in his comforter and turning his back away from Kuroko when Kuroko had asked if he was up and refusing to reply when Kuroko asked if he would be coming down for breakfast. So Kuroko had walked down to breakfast alone, a bit disappointed that his morning hair had reverted to it's previous messy state: tangles galore and his scalp absent of the stinging from Akashi's harsh pulling with the brush. Kuroko assumed that the redhead was merely just tired, having spent a great majority of last night awake on his phone, staying up far after Kuroko had drifted off to sleep.

"He's still sleeping," Kuroko explains when his mom questions about him about Akashi's whereabouts and why his hair had once again reverted to it's usual morning mess. By the time nine thirty rolls around, however, Kuroko starts to become a bit concerned. Akashi had never woken up past eight any day since he had arrived. Worried that something was wrong, Kuroko piles some of the leftover breakfast food on a tray and walks up the stairs to the bedroom. The window blinds were only half open, allowing shafts of light to filter in and Akashi was still lying on his bed, back turned to the door. Kuroko sets the tray on the desk, walking over to the bed. He yanks the cover off Akashi who grunts in protest, curling up tighter in a ball and Kuroko frowns.

"Hey, Akashit, what's wrong?" Kuroko asks, furrowing his brow at Akashi's uncharacteristic behavior.

"None of your business," Akashi grumbles, his voice hoarse as if he was straining to stop it from wavering and Kuroko's expression softens. So something was wrong.

"I don't know what's wrong, but," Kuroko sighs, the words foreign on his tongue as he tries to comfort Akashi of all people.

"Nothing's wrong. Go away."

"-but whatever it is, it's going to be alright."

There's a pregnant pause and Kuroko takes a deep breath entangling his fingers together nervously and says the words with careful deliberation. "I know..that I'm far from your candidate, but if there's something, you want to talk about...I guess I could try. I'll be there to listen, uhm, I mean..there's breakfast on the desk, if you want it. Though it's all cold now."

Kuroko drops the comforter back on the bed and turns around to exit the room and give Akashi his space before the same hoarse voice stops him. He hears shuffling and turns around to see Akashi sitting up from his bed, bags under his eyes, and his red locks completely disheveled. He looks awful, Kuroko thinks sympathetically. Akashi looks up hesitantly at Kuroko, as if debating whether or not to confide in him, and then looks down at his hands in his lap.

"I broke up with my girlfriend," Akashi finally admits, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh," Kuroko says rather dumbly, not quite sure to react. He didn't know how to comfort anybody after a breakup! "Well, why are you so sad then...?"

"Because Reo - my friend, that is - told me she was cheating on me. Turns out she was. She didn't even bother to deny it," Akashi mutters, his voice strangely hollow. There's a twinge of empathy in Kuroko's chest for the redhead; he sounded defeated and even, a little broken, though Kuroko supposes it's only natural, but for Akashi, for someone who had too much pride, it must have been sorely humiliating, and even more so painful to have lost someone dear to him. Kuroko recalls Akashi saying that he had never lost before. He wondered if that stayed true for everything - if that stayed true for people.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kuroko says gently, walking back over to the bed and taking a seat on the ground, looking up at Akashi. "Do you want to talk about it? It's okay if you don't. It's awful news though, even if y- well, never mind. Nobody deserves that and uhhhh as much it pains me to admit it, I have a feeling you treat your partners well, so I don't really know why anybody would want to cheat on you."

"Don't patronize me," Akashi snaps angrily. "Those are lies and you know it. You and I both know there are a million reasons why anybody would want to leave me."

Kuroko blinks, stunned by Akashi's outburst and his words; it was the first time he had seen Akashi anything less than wholly confident in himself. And to admit he had a dozen flaws? Such words from Akashi himself were even more unfathomable.

"Don't say that," Kuroko says awkwardly. "It's true, that I can think of reasons why someone would leave you, but I think it's mostly because of the way you've treated me. If you treated your girlfriend like this, she'd be long gone, no?"

At this, Akashi momentarily freezes, eyes travelling to Kuroko's. "I...I've been hurting you, yeah?"

"A little."

"Liar."

"Liar?"

"Yeah."

"I'm ok."

"But I'm not."

That makes Kuroko giggle a bit, albeit guiltily. "No you aren't," he says, straightening himself.

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"I already said I'm sorry. I don't like having to repeat myself."

"...Did you love her?"

"I...I don't really know. Maybe. Maybe not. We'd only been dating for a year but we'd been friends for three," Akashi says, closing his eyes. "I think the fact I'm...nevermind, actually, I don't want to trouble you with frivolous matters."

"Your happiness isn't frivolous."

"I don't think you should be so kind when I've been unfair to you."

"No, don't get me wrong, I still want to punch you in the face. But you're a bearable person sometimes. And I don't think you deserve to be sad about something. . .something that you put everything into but lost in the end because of the other's person's faults. It's fine," Kuroko urges. "I said I'd be here to listen, didn't I? I'm going to keep my promise."

"It's annoying how persistent you are," Akashi mutters, aiming a light kick at Kuroko's head. "She probably dated me for my status," he says, continuing with a half hearted shrug. "Nothing much more that's good about me that's worth keeping me around, I suppose," he sneers.

"I'm sure you have at least one redeeming quality," Kuroko offers and Akashi gives him a withering look.

"Thanks," he utters sarcastically.

"Well, it's not my fault that you almost never bother to display any when you're around me," Kuroko huffs and Akashi looks away guiltily. "Okay. I'm sure you have good attributes," Kuroko tries again. "Basketball, for instance."

"You've never even seen me play," Akashi says in amusement.

"If you're any less than LeBron after all your bragging and boasting I will be sorely disappointed," Kuroko retorts, his response evoking a small chuckle from the redhead. "You get good grades?"

"That's just talking about how I'm a model student," Akashi mutters. "That's got nothing to do with my personality."

"...You brush my hair," Kuroko says and Akashi blinks in surprise.

"So?"

"I...I've never really had anyone brush my hair."

"Your mother?"

"Not anymore."

"Is that why that thing is always a rat's nest?"

"Well..."

"Is me brushing your hair that special to you that you would count it as one of my good qualities?" Akashi asks increduculously and Kuroko rolls his eyes.

"What I mean to say - in an extremely roundabout way - is that you're not. Too bad. Uhm. You're kind of nice, sometimes. I guess. Yeah."

"I see."

There's another silence that falls between the two boys and Akashi falls back on his bed with a plop, looking on the ceiling with his hands on his chest, taking a deep breath.

"My mother used to brush my hair too. When I was little."

"Oh," Kuroko says. "Sorry, but why are you telling me this..?"

"Why am I?" Akashi echoes, turning to his side. "I don't really know." And then in a rather quiet voice. "I'm tired of losing people."

"Your mother -"

"Died," Akashi murmurs. "She died when I was ten."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kuroko says sympathetically, wringing his hands in despair as he tries to come up with better words of comfort, but none come to mind but a pathetic sorry. So Akashi had lost before. The thought is awful, but thinking of Akashi's losses makes Kuroko feel a bit more at ease with the redhead to know that he was merely human too.

"If she was still around, I don't think I'd be here," Akashi continues. "I don't think I would have been as materialistically spoiled if she was still around. My father was never the greatest at dealing with emotions. I was only required to have perfect academic grades and achievements and he'd leave me alone. I tried getting his attention sometimes, but he'd get me anything I wanted. Except for the actual attention. I'd rather have been spoiled by love."

Kuroko has nothing to say, suddenly feeling rather grateful that perhaps, he was less lonely than he originally thought. He had parents who spoiled him with love. He only had a few friends but the bonds he held were like having four quarters to one hundred pennies.

"Sorry, I'm done now," Akashi groans, sitting up. He stands up and Kuroko's eyes follow the redhead to where he stops at the doorframe, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly yet refusing to look back at Kuroko. And in a voice so quiet that Kuroko almost misses it, he hears Akashi murmur 'thank you' in a manner that almost made him appear shy before leaving the room, leaving Kuroko alone.

There's an air of tentativeness around the two teenagers for the rest of the morning and Kuroko sneaks glances at Akashi occasionally to see how the redhead was doing. He takes notes of the slight furrow of Akashi's eyebrows, the way he shifts and runs his hand through his hair in agitation or how sometimes, he gets up randomly, halting whatever it was he was doing and shutting himself in their room. Kuroko contemplates knocking on the door and asking if he was alright, but as he stands outside with his fist raised and hears nothing from within the room: no sounds of things breaking, walls being punched, no stifled sobs, no hiccups, no loud cries or curse words, he can't bring himself to waltz into the room.

He doesn't comment when Akashi comes out of the room twenty minutes later, his eyes slightly puffy, and he doesn't say anything when Akashi walks past him and out into the backyard.

Kuroko's not sure how to comfort Akashi, if he should at all and finally, he makes the decision to follow Akashi out to the barn. Akashi walks over to the horses and extends an arm out to Saru, petting the horse gently with the smallest smile on his face.

"How are you boy?" Akashi asks as Saru neighs and swishes his tail. "Huh, petting you makes me miss my own horse. . ."

Kuroko clears his throat and Akashi whips around, his eyes hardening for a minute when he realizes he wasn't alone and when his gaze land on Kuroko, his eyes flicker uncertainly.

"What is it?" Akashi asks stiffly and Kuroko bites his lip apprehensively.

"...basketball," he mumbles.

"What?"

"Basketball...always makes me feel better," Kuroko exhales. "Would you...would you want to play?"

"Together?"

"I guess..."

"Basketball with you?"

"I mean, if you really don't want to, it was just a suggestion-"

"Okay."

Within the next ten minutes, the two of them were outside of the house, walking along the side of the road to the school court, basketball tucked in hand. Akashi spun the ball on his finger while they walked and occasionally, dribbled it along the road, and Kuroko's almost soothed by the steady rhythmn of the basketball against the pavement. Akashi doesn't say anything, focusing his attention on the ball and Kuroko casts his eyes downwards, unsure of what to do.

Their shadows stretch out overhead as the sun illuminates overhead and Akashi glances over at Kuroko through the corner of his eye.

"You never told me what position you play," Akashi prompts.

"Me?" Kuroko echoes. "I'm a shadow."

Akashi raises an eyebrow at this and Kuroko catches crimson eyes flicking to the ground at their shadows in front of them.

"What, are you trying to sound cool with that kind of name? Do you not have any actual position?" Akashi snorts, reverting to his previous self.

"I dunno," Kuroko shrugs and Akashi furrows his brows.

"You don't know? What do you know?"

"Hm," Kuroko muses teasingly and Akashi sighs.

"Alright, I guess I'll wait to see," he grumbles, pushing Kuroko's shoulder in a playful manner and for a fleeting second it reminds Kuroko of exactly how friends bump each other's shoulders.

They reach the basketball courts and Akashi surveys the premises, narrowing his eyes in disappointment.

"It's. . ." Akashi mutters, staring at the decrepit basketball hoop, the paint on the backboard cracked and peeling off, the rim slightly bent and most of the net, gone. Kuroko waits for the onslaught of critique and snobbish remarks to spill from Akashi's lips but the redhead stays surprisingly quiet.

"You guys really love basketball, huh?" Akashi says, staring at the hoop impassively and Kuroko purses his lips.

"Yeah."

"This court is so well worn..." the redhead trails off. "It feels...oddly comforting?"

Kuroko definitely hadn't been expecting that from the rich city boy who came from a national level team with the most expensive facilities and equipment. He definitely hadn't been expecting Akashi to find comfort in a desolate outside court like this.

Akashi gets into shooting position and makes a perfect shot from the free throw line, the ball going in flawlessly.

"Wow," he says.

"Wow?" Akashi asks. "It was only a free throw shot. What's so impressive about that?"

"I can't shoot," Kuroko admits and Akashi only blinks.

"Can you dribble?"

"Not really."

"You can't dribble?"

"I believe that is what I said."

"Then what else is there for you to do if you can't even perform the most fundamental skills of basketball?"

"My true ability shows when there I play with a team," Kuroko says and Akashi lets out a long sigh.

"Alright," Akashi says, pinching his nose. "Okay."

"You don't believe me."

"Yeah, not really."

"Understandable. One on one?"

"You just said you can't shoot or dribble," Akashi points out in annoyance.

"I'm not completely inept at those skills," Kuroko counters and Akashi hesitates before passing the ball. The familiar touch of the ball underneath his fingertips makes Kuroko beam with excitement. Akashi settles into a defensive stance against the hoop, eyes bright and calculating. Kuroko takes a deep breath and starts into a drive, but as soon as the ball touches the ground and he's lunged towards one direction, Akashi's right there in front of him with shocking alacrity, lips twisted in some sinister, pleased smirk as Kuroko's eyes widen in surprise. Akashi's reflexes are far too fast to be normal and in the midst of his surprise, Kuroko fumbles the ball and before he can even try to regain himself, the ball is snatched from him and Akashi dribbles past and around him, sinking a perfect shot into the hoop - there's not any contact with the backboard, nor with the rim, only with the half dead hoop and a half hearted swish as the basketball falls through and Kuroko stands there stunned at Akashi's perfection which now only proved to extend into basketball as well.

"You..." Kuroko trails off. Kuroko's seen monsters. He's seen rival teams stand head and shoulders above the rest and he's seen Kagami play, he's seen Aomine play, he's seen Kagami and Aomine play against each other - but he's never seen basketball like Akashi's. "Your basketball," he breathes. "It's perfect..."

"Of course it is," Akashi says, self assuredly as he goes to retrieve the ball.

"...bright..." Kuroko murmurs and Akashi snaps his head up to stare at Kuroko in confusion.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Kuroko says shaking his head and smiling. "Are you ready for try number two?"

"Me?" Akashi laughs. "The question is, Tetsuya," - he pauses for dramatic effect - "are you ready for me?"

A completely one sided game of 10-0 later, Kuroko's hands on his knees with labored breathing, staring at Akashi who hadn't broken a sweat at all, Kuroko can only think 'no, not at all'.