Summary/notes:

The story is canon-compliant, so watch out for spoilers. Begins around episode 19. Begins after the championship league.


Several months earlier

Waking up the day after a loss is always difficult, but the sting was particularly harsh after the championship league. The game against Touou had their spirits particularly low. Aomine didn't even play in the first half of their game, then spent the entirety of the second half making fools of each of them.

Izuki would never forget the shot Aomine made during his fadeaway, almost parallel to the floor. And he'd made it look so easy. Izuki could train all day everyday and still not pull off a play like that. He just kept pulling out trick after trick. Watching the display, he thought Kagami was useless. He regretted that moment.

Of course Kagami wasn't useless. They just were not the stronger team that day. For many reasons. They'd placed their faith in Kagami, and when he fell short, it exposed the shortcomings of that strategy. They weren't miracles or prodigies, not like Kagami, and what made them work so well was their teamwork. What made them think abandoning that would do anything except lead to a loss?

And then. Aomine had to taunt them. And they had no choice but to stand there and listen. He could still see the moment Aomine blew past all five of their teammates to dunk the ball. He could see it in slow motion. Aomine held his gaze the entire time, as if telling him, daring him to stop him. Izuki tried, but even if he'd seen it coming he wouldn't have been able to do anything.

Coach benched Kagami and they knew it was going to be a slow death.

But none of them argued with Coach. She'd benched him because of his legs. He knew how much it would hurt the coach to pull the ace off the bench, but maybe if she'd done it a year ago, they would have had to push Kagami so far that day. No, Izuki, it did no good to make hypotheticals about what could have happened.

They were ready to accept defeat. But it was Kuroko who reeled them back. "I'll keep pushing till the buzzer."

Sure, the outcome was assured, but the game wasn't over. They had managed to show some spirit, but so did Aomine.

And it wasn't enough. They gave everything. Every last shred he had to give he left on the court. And it still wasn't enough.

As if losing to Touou had been bad enough, they got destroyed in their other games. After losing the championship league so horribly the previous year, they'd hoped for better this year. It was humiliating.

And almost like déjà vu. Getting destroyed at the championship league after their ace was forced from the court.

He almost wanted to fake being sick, skip school. But he knew he'd be itching to practice when the time came and so being cooped up all day would only make him feel worse. Besides, losing didn't mean he could miss a day of training. Hyuuga would never let him hear the end of it.

The entire team was in a sour mood, the rookie first years trying their best to raise the spirits of their seniors. He appreciated the effort, but their words just didn't comfort them like they needed to. Someone else, a teammate with the biggest heart, could do it, effortlessly with a giant grin and some overly dramatic speech that didn't even make any sense.

Izuki missed hearing those speeches.

"Just like that, we're back to practice after a loss." Izuki felt his chest tighten. They'd just arrived for practice, hadn't even changed, and Koganei was moping. Sure, they all felt the same, but now wasn't the time.

"Don't say that! You'll depress everyone." As if they weren't already down. Take the hint, Koga!

"We really messed up a lot of our fast breaks in the Senshinkan game, didn't we?" Koganei wasn't helping the situation at all.

That dopey smile in mind, he took a chance. Still, as he tried to put perspective on their games, "I wouldn't say a lot. More like two," he just knew he wasn't having his intended effect.

Koganei didn't get the hints. Not a single one. He just droned on and on, and with each word, the first years looked more and more defeated. Hyuuga led them to the gym with a solemn look.

Riko pushed them just as hard as normal. While brutal, it helped to restore some sense of normalcy. Even Izuki had to chuckle as Tsuchida and Koganei challenged Kuroko outright and then couldn't back it up. They played hard, but they were missing their usual fire. Riko knew it would be hard to get them going, but she would do her best. And the best way she knew how was to remind them of their promise and their goals.

The Winter Cup.

Victory or they'd be left out in the winter, naked. Now, there were a lot of reasons Izuki wanted nothing less. Confess to the one you love. Yeah, right. Izuki didn't love anyone. Unless you counted the things he kept between himself and himself.

He pushed it down like, he always did, to focus on the games ahead of them. It was their last chance to prove themselves that year. It seemed so far away, but anyone with eyes could see that they've been working to qualify for it since their first game of the year. This was no time to slow down. Not when Izuki had a sneaking suspicion . . .

"That reminds me, Hyuuga. Teppei should be coming home soon."

Yeah, he was right. "Oh boy, that changes things. Should be fun." He smiled, but even he wasn't sure how Kiyoshi would make his return. He was unpredictable. The first years, of course, had no idea who they were talking about. Izuki wasted no time singing his praises. "He's number seven, our ace."

Ace. He wondered how Kagami would like that.

But Kagami wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand that Kiyoshi is more than the center position on the court. He was almost the center of their entire team. And then he was gone. Izuki would be lying if he said he wasn't craving the chance to play with him again.

Izuki wished playing basketball could just be simple, that they could focus on the game and not worry about how the introduction of their old teammate would influence the dynamic with their new teammates.

Izuki brought this up to the team in the locker room after practice that day. "I'm worried though. Is Kagami going to be okay?" He hadn't shown up for practice that whole week. Kuroko was acting weird, too. He missed passes he never had before. He lagged behind more than usual. He didn't ask for passes as often as he normally would. The defeat was still raw, Izuki knew, but he felt helpless. Would Kiyoshi even be able to help?

"Kuroko, you're in his class right? Know anything?"

"Nothing. I haven't had a chance to speak to him."

"You could have at least asked him something." Izuki flinched at Hyuuga's harsh tone. Kuroko was not Kagami's keeper, nor his messenger. He knew Hyuuga was irritated by a lot of things, but there was no reason to take it out on Kuroko.

"I'm sorry." Izuki wanted to smack Hyuuga for making Kuroko speak that way. "But, recently, talking to Kagami has been a bit difficult. Even as he complimented their team and left the locker room, his voice echoed with sadness. And when Kuroko's voice never held any emotion to start with, that was something Izuki could not ignore.

"Is he going to be okay?"

I already said yes!" Hyuuga spat the words, like Izuki was asking a dumb question.

"No, not Kagami." Izuki was a bit frustrated he had to specify Lately, it had been Kagami, this and Kagami, that, and it left little room for, "I mean Kuroko. I get the feeling something is wrong." Their teammates all looked around at each other like they hadn't thought about how Kuroko had been feeling until that moment.

No one said anything, and Izuki was at a loss. He could see there was a problem, but it was out of his reach to do anything. He just had to stand and watch while things crumbled around him, and he was helpless. He was helpless when Kagami lost his jumps. He was helpless when Kiyoshi-

"Maybe he's hit a wall or something." Izuki would know a thing or two about that.


Kuroko stuck around the gym, but the rest of them decided they had earned pork buns from the convenience store as a reward (or maybe as consolation). Koga pulled him back, whispering conspicuously to him. "Place your bets for the return of "The Taming of Riko:" which baskethead will earn her heart? Kiyoshi or Hyuuga?"

They snickered together, reliving their silly informal bets on who, between Kiyoshi and Hyuuga, would succeed in earning the favor of their hardened coach. They were both obviously gone for her, but neither of them could tell who she had feelings for, if either of them. He truly didn't know what was going to happen. He just hoped nobody got too hurt, which is why his involvement in the situation went no further than his occasional chats with Koganei. He did care for each of them, but feelings were messy, and he didn't have a say in this. Besides, Izuki was too busy with his own fair share of emotions to conceal.

Luckily, the curious first years seemed to be looking for more answers.

"So Captain, this Teppei guy. What's he like?"

Izuki chuckled to himself. It was a hard question. He heard Tsuchida resist the urge as well.

"Teppei is…. Freaking weird." Izuki should have known better than to expect differently from Hyuuga. "But I owe him. He's the one who encouraged me to play basketball. He's the one who founded the Seirin high cool basketball team."

Izuki and Tsuchida had held it together long enough. The exasperation in Hyuuga's face followed by his sudden seriousness summarized their old teammate perfectly. They laughed at him, earning confused looks from the first years.

Izuki stopped laughing long enough to wheeze, "You say that like he's some old sage. He's just a high schooler."

Hyuuga punched them both in the shoulder to get them to stop. "Shut up idiots. Look," he turned back to the others. "He comes back to practice soon. You'll see for yourselves then."


"Hey!"

Izuki knew that voice. He'd expected it, been told about it. But he was not prepared for how that voice commanded his attention. It had been too long, he'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. When he focused on the figure in the door though, Izuki had no response.

"Let's practice, yeah?" Izuki could have laughed at Kiyoshi walking proudly into the gym donned in his number seven uniform. He almost did. But Kiyoshi Teppei was the one guy who would do this deadly seriously. Not even thirty seconds into his first practice and Hyuuga was ready to throttle him.

Despite his entrance, once he changed into practice clothes and introduced himself, the first years were immediately taken with him. Izuki would be lying too if he couldn't help but let his eyes linger. It was because he hadn't seen him in a few months, that had to be it. Because the giant idiot shaved years off his life every practice.

"Like they say, to climb a mountain, you have to aim for the top. Just don't forget to enjoy the scenery while you're there." He was still as poetic as ever. Izuki remembered why they all liked him so much. No matter how weird he was, or how much time he had taken off, he worked harder than anyone.

Two weeks off, and Izuki would have hoped Kagami would have cooled that hot head of his. But he was playing in a way none of them knew how to handle, at least not since the start of the year. They shared a similar feeling of helplessness watching Kagami regress like this.

And then, while the rest of them looked on in discomfort, Kiyoshi challenged Kagami to a one on one. He thought he'd known the guy pretty well. There had only been two of them at the start when Hyuuga was still too stubborn to admit he still wanted to play. None of them knew how to handle Kagami's mood. He wouldn't talk to them, so what else were they supposed to do? Even Kuroko seemed like he was lost.

But Kiyoshi was always up to something.

They took their starting position for the one-on-one, Kiyoshi, on offense. Izuki noticed the hesitation in Kagami, smirking at the adjustment he had to make to Kiyoshi's size and fast speeds. He drove into the hoop, to all it seemed Kiyoshi would win right off the bat. But just as the dunk was going to clear the brim, Kagami matched him, blocking the shot. Kiyoshi didn't waste a moment, taking his defensive stance with enthusiasm.

"Kagami lights a flame under everyone." He felt hot himself. It was definitely not because Kiyoshi dropped his hips to prepare for the defense, then moved across that court keeping up with Kagami like he'd been there all year. He'd gotten used to tracking Kagami's fast movement. His whole team managed to keep up with him, even if they couldn't match his raw power or natural talent. Watching Kiyoshi play again reminded him where they had learned to keep up.

Kagami went for the hoop, but Kiyoshi jumped for the block. Izuki's eyes narrowed. "It's not over." But then it was, Kagami pulling out a double clutch for the win. Izuki realized he meant more that he never wanted it to end. He never wanted to stop watching Kiyoshi smile and exist in the place where he belonged.

Kiyoshi conceded, and Izuki felt his disappointment for Kiyoshi's loss turn to ire as Kagami all but sauntered out of practice like he had better things to do. What was Kiyoshi's best case scenario? And wearing those shoes the entire time. After winning, Kagami sulked away like he'd had enough of them.


The next day, Izuki's heart ached for the terrified looks on the first year's face, their first time playing in a practice match. He racked his brain for reasons to justify it, but when he kept drawing blanks, he turned to Coach. "I give. What's the plan here, exactly?"

"Oh this isn't some strategy. Someone insisted on watching them play."

That, combined with the guilty smile on Kiyoshi's face, helped some things from the previous day make sense. Riko delivered their death sentence (three practice games) with a wicked grin. In the time it took them all to finish groaning, Kiyoshi had already pounced.

"Riko, can I ask a favor?" Coach nodded and the two walked off together. After his eyes (did not) linger on Kiyoshi's ass, he turned his attention to his captain, who looked oblivious.

"Hey, Hyuuga, you good?"

Hyuuga startled, until that point groaning about the coach's cruelty. He looked at Izuki with confusion. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Because the girl of your dreams is having some alone time with the only other guy who could steal her heart.

"Nothing. Never mind." He should have known better than to think Hyuuga would be open about it.

He shook the memory from his head, focusing on the game in front of him. He'd be a bad senpai if he didn't make notes for his first year kouhai.

Izuki listened to Kiyoshi's reasoning behind watching the first year's play. He was never so clear, always including some metaphor or riddle, but Izuki swore he implied it was Kuroko who needed a lesson, and not the suddenly self-centered Kagami. Sure, Kuroko had been struggling lately, but what lesson was Kiyoshi talking about? The first years pulled out a win, barely, so why did Kuroko and Kagami look so defeated? They gave their all, Izuki could tell. Perhaps Kiyoshi was onto something.

Walking back from the practice game, listening proudly as Furihata and Fukuda recapped some of their finer plays, Izuki caught Coach near the front of the pack. "Kiyoshi is really observant, huh?"

Riko snorted. "Don't say it where he can hear you. I don't need him getting any ideas."

He was in too good a mood to let her bring him down. "No, I mean it. He got a handle on Kuroko faster than any of us did." Hadn't Kiyoshi just met Kuroko? And to claim that the shadow needed a lesson? Kuroko had been surprising them ever since the day he joined, and he wasn't impressing Kiyoshi? He admired how driven the guy was, but also that he never let any of his teammates settle. Kuroko was already acting differently. Kiyoshi probably hadn't even had a chance to say much to the guy.

"You're scaring me, Izuki. I know he's good at what he does but is his tendency to fly off the handle contagious?" He laughed about it with her, both understanding that Kiyoshi was something downright exhausting, but also extremely special.

Towards the back of the line, behind the animated first years, and a brooding Kuroko and Kagami, was Hyuuga and Kiyoshi. Kiyoshi had been talking their captain's ear off for the last ten minutes, and Hyuuga was ready to shut him up. He could have just walked away from him, he knew, but deep down, he missed the guy. Not that anyone would hear him say that.

Kiyoshi had been nagging him about details on the team in his absence. Koganei's basics had developed exceptionally well, Mitobe is the master of defense, Tsuchida rarely missed a rebound.

"Tell me about Izuki."

"What about him?"

"How has he developed as a point guard?"

"Why don't you just watch and see?"

"Well he gives the orders doesn't he? I want to be prepared."

"Well then someone shouldn't have specifically requested to watch the first years play." Kiyoshi didn't waver. He just stared, breaking down that resolve in Hyuuga. "Ugh, I don't know. To me he's just the same old Izuki. He works hard, makes dumb puns, but never lets us down come game time. The first years respect him. Hell, even Kagami has come to listen to him, some."

"Well, if that's the case, it seems Izuki has certainly come into his own as a point guard. I dare say I couldn't do a better job myself." They both knew that wasn't necessarily true. Kiyoshi would have made an excellent point guard, but existed in a flurry that eventually shaped into an ice crystal that was uniquely Kiyoshi. "I haven't seen him play with all of them yet, but I can believe that first years respect him. The trust they've developed in him is obvious."

Perhaps it was because Hyuuga had helped whip them into shape, but they didn't feel much different from the beginning. Sure, Izuki had taken to the "senpai" role a bit enthusiastically - something about wanting to make sure Fukuda didn't regret joining because he asked for help - and those three first years instantly took to seeking him for advice, Kuroko and Kagami quickly fell in step with him on the court. Trying to push a visual of Izuki as a mother duck with all the first year ducklings out of his mind, (Could ducks have Kagami's eyebrows?) the team arrived at their destination. He was grateful Kiyoshi didn't push his social bandwidth any further.

The rest of the team left soon after their return to their gym. And now that Kiyoshi had given him some peace to think, he was itching to play, himself. The sun had already set when Hyuuga set up for shooting practice. He made ten shots, each helping him to relax more and more, before a familiar presence joined him.

"Hi, Riko." He tossed the ball into the hoop, clearing it easily. "Can we hang out tomorrow? Sorry, I've just got too much energy. I'm staying for extra shooting practice."

"I'm getting dinner with Teppei." It wasn't exactly an answer, it was more. It should have been normal, because Teppei was their friend.

But they both had their doubts.

"Okay." He turned back to his shots.

Riko didn't like that. "Junpei, don't-"

"It's fine." His voice echoed as the ball hit the floor, another successful shot. And it was fine. Hyuuga trusted them both. Even if Kiyoshi were hurt by them being together, whether he showed it outwardly or not, it was not something they could control. And they would handle it when it did happen. "It makes sense. He's been gone for a while. Of course you would want to catch up with your friend." He smiled, knowing he was speaking the utter truth. Another shot cleared the net.

"Hey, Junpei." He'd expected her to leave immediately after, knowing he'd text her later. She tugged on his shirt. When he turned, she pulled him down to kiss her, a quick peck.

"Don't push yourself too hard. Text me, okay?"

He smiled at the completely unnecessary suggestion. "You know I will." and he gives her one more kiss, a bit longer (he was alone in the gym with his girlfriend. He could have done worse!) before he let Riko leave, not giving it another thought.

Riko left her boyfriend to his practice. She should have seen this coming. Making him sit and watch the game rather than play. He'd be going crazy to practice. She chuckled to herself as she walked to the Maji burger where her friend told her to meet him. She'd been looking forward to his return, just like the rest of them. She was his coach, but also his friend. She couldn't remember the last time the two of them truly spent time together just the two of them.

They made pleasant conversation, Kiyoshi not once hinting that he was going to bring up anything regarding the past few days at practice. Riko was itching for him to say something, so when he never did, she couldn't resist. "Hey, so what's the deal with your one-on-one with Kagami and watching the first years play? What do you have bubbling around in there?"

He leaned back, keeping his cool. "Why are you talking to me like I'm some evil witch? I just wanted to see how we compared. That's all."

Riko crossed her arms. Two could play the stubborn game. "Then what about today's game?"

He hummed in thought. "Yeah I did have a thing in mind."

They talked about the troublesome first years. Kiyoshi told her about the tall, tall wall that loomed in front of Kuroko, and what he could do about it. Riko absorbed his observations, and had to admit, she agreed. She had seen the signs, but hadn't quite figured out what their approach should be. But seeing Kuroko run past with that silly smile, she knew she didn't need to worry about it.

"You know, Izuki said something about you earlier."

Kiyoshi's smile finally slipped from his face, replaced with confusion, as if no one else was allowed to notice things like him. "He said something about you having an influence on Kuroko. You ask me, he's not the only one you have an influence on."

"Is that so?" His smile grew. "I am just happy to be around such a great team, bigger than I remember! Can't blame me for getting excited!"

"Watch me, Teppei! I do control your training regimen after all." The two friends laughed about the empty threat, letting some of the heavy feelings from the past year leave their bodies. As their time together came to a close, they walked to the train station together.

"Will you be spending time with Hyuuga after this? I hope the two of you remember to relax, with things that aren't basketball."

Riko was uncomfortable that he was so comfortable talking about her relationship. They were both convinced the giant had romantic feelings for her. Maybe Kiyoshi didn't know he liked Riko, but the way he acted pointed to it. And she was dreading the day he realized it. That he'd look at her and realize he was left behind. She could see his face now. The one that looks okay, but beneath its surface layer is core-shaking sadness that Kiyoshi will not express.

"Not tonight. He stuck around for practice."

"That sounds like him. Remind him to relax every once in a while, okay?" Then Kiyoshi left her standing at the entrance to the train station. His home was not much further of a walk, so that was where they parted. Riko watched him walk away, thinking that there was something different about him, though she would not be able to say what.

*When they finally reached the lunch period, the following day, Izuki had a terrible feeling as he watched Riko walk next to Hyuuga with a bright smile on her face. That could only mean they were planning their next session of team torture. He'd gotten together with Koganei, Mitobe, and Tsuchida to tail them to see if they could get any idea on how to prepare.


"I don't care where we end up, as long as we can practice hard." Hyuuga was far too calm about their doom.

"Don't decide what hell we're going to like, it's a couples retreat!"

In their moment of despair, Izuki, from the corner of his eye, saw Kiyoshi approach, confused by their behavior. "Couple's retreat? Who's going on a retreat?"

"No one. Coach and Captain are just being so casual in deciding where they're going to torture us for summer training camp." Accepting that they could do nothing but endure what was waiting for them, they slowly trickled from their stakeout spot, trying to salvage what was left of their break.

The others gradually left, leaving him alone with Kiyoshi. He was ready to leave himself when Kiyoshi spoke. "Are you sure Hyuuga and Riko aren't planning a real couple's retreat? They are a couple after all."

Izuki needed a few moments to process that bit of news. He had been made speechless by his teammate several times, but Kiyoshi continued to top himself with his gibberish every day. "What are you talking about? Those two? Like romantically? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Unless they broke up, yeah." Okay, that was not the part he should be stuck on. "They told me about it when they started dating. I thought maybe they'd done that with everyone."

He shook his head as if it would sift out all the weird details of this conversation. "Not like that qualifies as 'team announcements' you know." Then something didn't add up. "Wait, you've been in the hospital since last summer, when did they do that?"

"Hm? Oh about six months ago. They came to visit me and made a whole show about telling me. I didn't see the big deal."

Looking back at the events of their first year at Seirin, he could form an idea. He would have thought Kiyoshi was head-over-heels for the girl, based on the way he was always at her side, prattling on about some idea for a play or regimen. Izuki glanced at Kiyoshi, not sure how to talk about it more. "And you're okay? Like with them?"

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be? They're my friends. I am happy for them." His smile spread ear to ear, the smile that could pull Izuki from his lowest of lows. He didn't see any ingenuine feelings on his face, so Izuki let it go.

Until the first years had to go and open their mouths to gossip the next day.

"So, Hyuuga and Kiyoshi both have a crush on Riko, don't they?" Izuki heard Fukuda say to Kawahara and Furihata after their meal tasting. "I mean why else would those two have suffered through her cooking like that?"

Furihata joined in. "It also would make one reason why coach and captain aren't dating. If she was waiting for someone else, you know?"

So Izuki wasn't the only one who was out of the loop. He'd just learned about the captain and coach being boyfriend and girlfriend the day prior. But if he hadn't, he had to admit he'd have been reminded of the silent tournament that he and the other second years had been observing for a year already. The one that he also learned the day prior never even existed because Kiyoshi seemed unaffected by their relationship.

"Hey, guys, let's not make assumptions about others." Their faces froze and instantly took on a look of guilt. "Don't look so down. Just don't spread that stuff around, okay?"

"Yeah, you're right, Izuki."

After all, if Hyuuga and Riko didn't share anything about it, there was likely a reason. He wouldn't say anything more; their relationship was not for him to share.

Kiyoshi lingered in his mind as he went home that evening. He'd been causing waves in their team since he came back. But, then again, he'd been doing that since the day Izuki met him. He remembered the day fondly, as well as some of the things that Kiyoshi showed him in basketball that really started to change his perspective.

It started early on, back when they first formed the team. Izuki knew Koga was new to basketball, but some of his suggestions were beyond ridiculous. Kiyoshi playing point guard and center? There was just no way it would work. He said as much before he whipped his head around to stare at Kiyoshi when the boy's loud laugh filled the gym.

"Of course, Koga. I shouldn't place limits on myself."

Izuki was taken aback. What resolution did he have to have to make sense of such an idea? Still, they tried it. And it failed miserably a few times, but then it started flowing. Over weeks of different plays, many unsuccessful, but some good runs, both Hyuuga and Riko were about ready to abandon the strategy.

"Look, Teppei, I know you are determined to make this work but we only have so much time before our next game. Should we really be using his time like this?"

"Oh, come on, I'm on to something, here! I can get this, I swear!"

No one could get him to stop when he was like this. They all knew it was easier to just let the guy do what he wanted, sometimes. "Fine, but just today. Get it done, or we are moving on."

They tried a few more set plays, all mediocre at best. Then, once, something unexpected happened. Izuki had tossed the ball to Koga, who went in for a drive, but was stopped by Tsuichida. The ball narrowly made it to Kiyoshi, who moved towards the hoop. But Mitobe was right there with him. Kiyoshi knew he'd be stopped. He had to do something.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Izuki. It was either get blocked or get the ball back to Izuki to start again. Before he could hesitate he launched the ball to his right, hoping his teammate would catch it. When he managed to catch a glance, he saw Izuki, ball in hand driving to the center line, an absolutely bewildered look on his face.

After the play was done, a successful second attempt by Kiyoshi, no one spoke, no one retrieved the ball. He just looked back at Kiyoshi, and they held each other's gaze. Then his face spread into that damn dopey grin. "Izuki, that was incredible! Nice reset!" The giant was in his space in seconds his giant arm swung around his shoulder. "I knew I could trust you!"

Izuki flushed, embarrassed to speak. "You're the one who made the shot, giant moron." Izuki should have kept quiet, because the grin on that boy's face only shone brighter. Why was his stomach so unsettled?

Why did he never want Kiyoshi to let go?

"Izuki, how'd you do that? Did you plan that?"

"Nope!" Kiyoshi was beaming, finally letting go of Izuki. He felt like he stepped into the winter chill. "Mitobe was definitely going to block me, so when I saw Izuki, I knew we should give the play another shot."

"How'd you know to catch it?"

Izuki was looking at Kiyoshi. That grin on his face was bright, as if it lit the entire room itself. The look of pride and accomplishment after countless days of trying to carve his own role for the team, he'd done it. Izuki could not have been more proud to have been the one to catch that pass. Kiyoshi trusted him. And Izuki realized that he trusted Kiyoshi.

"I just did."

The memory ended and faded from his thoughts, but as he settled into bed, laying on his back, the fresh image of Kiyoshi moving so expertly on the court would not leave his mind. He'd only been back on the team a matter of days, and yet Izuki felt like it had been months. That, or liek no time passed at all.

But there were a few new things about him. For one, he was fascinated by the first years, all of them, like a dog meeting a litter of puppies for the first time, even though he was still kind of a puppy himself.

There was also the fact that Kiyoshi did not feel for Riko the way he was convinced he did. It wasn't that he was constantly worried about it, it was just part of the team dynamic. It didn't need words because it was just the way it was.

At least, that was how Izuki convinced himself that the fact that Kiyoshi was consuming his every waking thought lately. He just had to get used to the fact that Kiyoshi didn't like Riko. At least, no more than he liked her as a friend.

And that meant that he wasn't in what he assumed to be a complicated love triangle. He couldn't draw any conclusions, because without his consideration, his mind flooded him with images of Kiyoshi at practice, moving effortlessly across the court, playing the game as if he'd invented it. Then, his mind replayed those same images, but this time, Kiyoshi was doing the same things in various states of undress.

Fully accepting he'd deny every second of it, he released his growing erection from his shorts and wrapped his hand around his shaft. Not Long after, any rational or logical thought was replaced with fantasies of Kiyoshi, his mind putting his teammate into suggestive situations, relying on his stolen glances at slivers of exposed skin to fill in the details.

Even as his orgasm mounted and dissipated, he didn't feel any guilt. And before he could he tucked the memory deep away, letting sleep take him before he was forced to confront those feelings.