Chapter Text
Akashi was fading away.
As someone who was frequently overlooked and faded into the background, Kuroko noticed. Akashi switched his normal seat at lunch. Where he used to sit between Midorima and Murasakibara and across from Kuroko, he now claimed the seat at the end of the table—next to the oblivious Aomine and across from Midorima, who probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss unless Akashi was carrying the wrong lucky item.
Murasakibara might have noticed something, but Aomine would keep him occupied, stealing from his plate with a total disregard for his own life. It was the perfect set-up…if only Kuroko was across from Murasakibara and Kise was across from Aomine, effectively keep Kuroko and his top observations away from Akashi.
But Kuroko took his normal spot and saw Akashi’s quiet demeanor as the red-haired captain picked at his packed bento—probably made by the Akashi Family Michelin-starred chef—and only added to the conversation when prompted directly.
At practice, Akashi sat off to the side, making notes on his clipboard. He usually took part in practice, performing drill after drill with a radiant smile that always made Kuroko want to return it. They all loved basketball—even Murasakibara, despite his constant complaints—but Akashi enjoyed it almost as much as Aomine. It was his escape from the pressure of his overbearing father and the corporate kingdom he would one day inherit, but today, his smile was absent, a transparent frown etched upon that mask Akashi wore to hide.
But from what?
Kuroko refused to let the shadows lay claim to Akashi and deflected the ball during a play, sending it soaring toward their distracted captain.
“Akashi!” Aomine yelled in warning, but it was unnecessary. Akashi caught it smack between his hands, just before the ball would have hit his nose.
“Kuroko, were you trying to get my attention?” Akashi furled an inquisitive eyebrow, to which Kuroko shrugged.
“Perhaps if Akashi would be so kind, he could grace us with his presence upon the court.”
“Is Midorima not granting you enough of a challenge?”
Midorima let out something that sounded suspiciously like a growl as he pushed up his glasses, but Kuroko barely glanced his way. “Perhaps Midorima-kun would provide a challenge if he could touch the ball, but he has yet to this game.”
Kise squealed with giggles, while Aomine snickered. Akashi, however, rose to the challenge, that daring smirk finding his face as he walked onto the court, ominous thumps of the basketball echoing throughout the gym with each dribble through his legs. As he approached Kuroko, he appeared giddy—or as giddy as he ever seemed.
“Three-on-three, I take it?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll give you both Kise and Aomine.”
Kuroko felt the twin demon smiles growing upon his best friends’ faces over his head, but he wiped them clean with one question. “Why do I have to be at a disadvantage?”
Aomine sounded like he choked on his own spit while Kise sniffled, probably on the verge of fake tears. Kuroko ignored them both as Akashi replied easily, “Because you proposed the game, Kuroko, and I never lose.”
“Prove it.”
He did. Despite Kise and Aomine’s hard rebounds and flashy moves, Murasakibara, Midorima, and Akashi beat them by a decent but respectable margin. Still, it was an odd game. Akashi barely scored, even when he beat his opponent (mainly Kuroko), and where Akashi could end the drive or sometimes the match, he decided to pass or pull up, prolonging what usually would be quick games.
But the game ended eventually—with a three-pointer by Midorima from behind the three-point line.
Akashi threw a towel to Kuroko, who blinked when it hit his face. “Thank you, Kuroko.” Akashi offered a brief but sincere bow. “I enjoyed our match.”
“Best two out of three?” Kuroko asked, returning the bow.
Akashi’s smile wavered, but Kuroko doubted anyone but him would have noticed. “Don’t you all have dinner and—”
“What! No, we’re playing!” Aomine shouted, hand palming Kuroko’s head before sending a scowling glance at Kise. “And this time, Tetsu’s passes are meant all for me, Kise!”
“What? Kurokocchi loves passing to me!”
“You? Why would Tetsu want to pass to a second-rate, copycat excuse for a—”
Kuroko peeked out from under his curtain of bangs to meet Akashi’s amused gaze, but then Akashi snatched his sleeve, tugging Kuroko out from Aomine’s grip. “Perhaps Kuroko would like to pass to me and Murasakibara. Midorima, would you mind playing with Aomine and Kise?”
“Yes,” came the callous reply.
“Oi! You bastard!”
“Oh, come on, Midorimacchi! It’ll be fun!”
Kuroko whispered as they started to line up for the next game, “Why Murasakibara? We’ll need Midorima’s shots in order to—”
“We’re the shortest two members on the team, Kuroko.” He nodded toward the towering Murasakibara. “We need the tallest.”
Kuroko knew better than to question Akashi. After all, they destroyed Midorima, Kise, and Aomine by double digits.
As it was Friday night, they managed to coerce Akashi into another handful of games, though Akashi, of course, didn’t lose one. As they headed home, Momoi-san in tow, a lone light shone from the third floor of the school. Kuroko wanted to dismiss it—the games had been intensely fun and equally grueling—but the student council office was lit. They’d left late on a Friday before, and Akashi always left moments after them. Midorima had even asked once, and uncharacteristically, Akashi shrugged.
“There is no work on a Friday evening that cannot be done on a Saturday morning.”
Friday night seemed to be Akashi’s reprieve, his one night for himself…but then why was he still at school?
“Go on without you?” Aomine echoed. “Tetsu, I’m not sure you can walk by yourself after that practice.”
Kuroko wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or appreciative, but he didn’t have to choose as he saw the lights of Akashi’s idling car just beyond the Teikou gates. “Thank you for your concern, but Akashi-kun will give me a ride home. See you tomorrow.”
He headed back into the school before Aomine could sputter off another rebuff, and what he found alarmed him more than anything he’d seen on campus. Akashi—surrounded by glitter pens and magic markers. There were stickers and cray paper and large poster, and they littered each of the student council officers’ desk while Akashi worked diligently—without his blazer or tie, which lay across the back of his chair.
“Akashi-kun?”
Akashi’s head snapped up; a pale shade of pink darkened his cheeks. “Kuroko. I thought you went home with the rest of the team.”
“And I thought you were going home, too.” He came forward, eyes running over the posters. They weren’t for Akashi, who would win presidency for a third year by a landslide, but for Midorima and a few other second-year students who were running for office positions. “Akashi-kun, why aren’t you going home?”
Akashi went back to his poster-making, glitter pen swiping over the first m in Midorima’s name. “I have a few more signs to make here, and then there’s some paperwork I need to finish up before—”
“Akashi-kun, why aren’t you going home?” he repeated, and perhaps only Akashi could hear the stern question in his voice.
Akashi put down his glitter pen before sitting back in his chair, shocking Kuroko with his open expression. “There is no one there. My father has been heading down to Kyoto on Friday mornings to jump start the opening of the southern headquarters.”
“And he’ll be back later tonight?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Hm.”
Kuroko thought of his own parents and grandmother, waiting for him at home in their tiny apartment, holding dinner until he returned. Ever since his youngest days, someone always greeted him at home after school, never allowing their warm apartment to go cold. And yet, Akashi wanted to stay at school rather than return to his lonely and empty apartment.
Kuroko wouldn’t allow that, on a Friday no less, and pulled out his phone to text. “You’ll come to my house tonight.”
Akashi’s pale cheeks darkened considerably. “Thank you, Kuroko, but it is unnecessary. I’m going to finish up here and—”
“—and your driver wishes to go home relatively early on a Friday, I’m sure. It would be best to let him.”
Akashi bowed his head, letting out a sigh, and pushed to your feet. “Perhaps you are right. Thank you, Kuroko.”
Kuroko opened his text app. “I’ll let my parents know. I’m sure my mother won’t mind making tofu—”
“Thank you for the offer, but I cannot come to your house tonight.” Akashi placed the markers back in his desk draw and began to stack the posters one atop of another. “Driver knows I need to ask permission, and I cannot call my father for it tonight.”
“All right.” The answer came too easy. “Then I’ll go to your house.”
“Again, I will need to ask permission.”
“Will you?”
Akashi stopped, ready to rebuke, before sharing a conspiratorial smile with Kuroko. “Perhaps not.”
When they exited the building, Kuroko allowed Akashi to go first. The captain bowed to his driver, apologized for the delay, and climbed inside. Once the door shut and Driver proceeded around the back of the car to place Akashi’s backpack in the trunk, Kuroko came to Akashi’s door and settled behind the passenger’s seat. He was effectively hidden from Driver save his shoes, but Kuroko could easily use his misdirection and weak presence to avoid being caught.
But the door shutting a second time made a noise, and Driver glanced back at Akashi in the rear-view mirror once he sat down. “Everything all right, Akashi-sama?”
“I thought I saw a lonely cat upon the sidewalk but my mistake. Thank you for your concern.”
Kuroko took out his phone and texted, You’re the lonely cat.
Akashi almost laughed. And yet I’m taking you home.
Then please take care of me.
Of course.
When they stopped before Akashi’s place, Kuroko used the Driver’s brief stop at the trunk to disembark. He simply walked a few feet away from the opening of the luxury housing complex and gaped at the affluent building. It rivaled some of the tallest skyscrapers in Tokyo with a sparkling glass front, a keypad entrance, and an elegant lobby, complete with a uniformed concierge who took custody of Akashi once he entered through the sliding doors. Driver returned to his car while Concierge and Akashi disappeared into the elevator.
Kuroko waited patiently, not worried in the upscale section of Shinjuku, though it had grown cold and dark in the evening hours. He almost began to think Akashi might have forgotten him when Concierge returned and took his place behind the desk once more. A few moments later, the phone rang, and Concierge left his post in a hurry, dashing through the front doors of the building. Akashi, now dressed in Adidas pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, waved to Kuroko from the elevator, and after a glance at Concierge’s back, Kuroko raced through the open doors. He slammed against the back of the elevator, huffing as the lift rocketed toward the penthouse.
“Akashi-kun watches too many spy movies.”
“I believe you came up with this idea, Kuroko.”
Kuroko shrugged. “What did you say to Concierge-san to make him leave?”
Akashi mirrored the motion. “Nothing. I simply called Kimura-san—she lives in the apartment below my father’s—and said it was unfortunate that I saw her dog on the street. I would have tried to find Jingles myself, but Driver wanted to drop me off. She must have called Concierge.”
“You are quite devious, Akashi-kun.”
“Aren’t you the one who keeps shoving Aomine’s dirty gym clothes in Midorima’s locker?”
“It is unusual for you to pass rumors, Akashi-kun.”
“Your secret is safe with me, but it was Momoi-san who told me.”
Kuroko sighed. She would want something for her silence, no doubt, but before he could decide on an adequate bribe, the elevator doors opened to a stunning view of the glistening skyscrapers, illuminated by office lights and the moon’s glow. The floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the entire living area, which was modern and upscale with plush furniture and a gas fireplace, and Kuroko felt awkward entering. Akashi’s apartment was a sharp contrast to his own modest living with his parents and grandmother.
“Sorry for intruding,” Kuroko muttered as he slipped off his shoes and found the guest slippers waiting for him to the right.
“It’s fine. Would you like something to drink?”
Akashi’s voice sounded rushed, though he remained cool and aloof, so Kuroko glanced over his shoulder. “Akashi-kun, have you ever had a sleep-over before?”
Akashi’s gaze never wavered, his rich crimson eyes vulnerable in every way. “My father is very busy and generally not able to give permission for such frivolous activities.”
The bitter edge in his voice was noticeable, but Kuroko dismissed it. “Then we have a lot of time to make up for. Akashi-kun, will you lend me some clothing? We’ll also need a laptop and a few blankets. And where is the kitchen? I’ll get the food.”
Akashi lead Kuroko to the bright, modern eatery, but it was terribly understocked with a few gallons of pre-made tofu soup, fresh vegetables and fruits, and bottled water. Well, this would not do. By the time he made back it to the living room, Akashi had set up the laptop on the coffee table and placed the blankets on the couch. He handed Kuroko a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and socks.
“Did you warm up the tofu soup?” Akashi sounded terribly excited, but that just wouldn’t do. There wasn’t much Aomine was right about, but he was right about this: Sleepovers needed junk food.
Before Kuroko could reply, the elevator opened, and Concierge walked in, carrying two bags of Maji Burgers and a tray with two drinks. “Akashi-sama, I do believe there has been a mistake. A delivery gentleman said you placed an order with his establishment. A Maji Burger, as it were.”
Absolute disgust echoed in his voice.
Akashi glanced at Kuroko, who nodded. “There was no mistake, Concierge-san,” Akashi replied. “I was hungry and ordered out. Thank you for your diligence.”
Concierge, of course, did not see Kuroko as he handed the offending items to Akashi. “Yes, well, I am not sure your father will approve of such…food, if that is what it can be called, but enjoy your …dinner.”
After Concierge left, Kuroko began to change, though a scheming smile found his lips. “Annoyed at least one adult—check.”
“Is there a list?”
“Yes. Junk food—check.” Kuroko watched as Akashi lifted up the chocolate milkshake from the tray and took a tentative sip. Appreciation burst through his once passive expression, prompting Kuroko to motion toward the computer after a sip of his own vanilla drink. “Movie—check. Blankets for makeshift bed in middle of living room—check.”
“Are we’re missing anything?”
“Vanilla popsicles,” Kuroko said without hesitation and settled cross-legged on the blankets once he laid them on the floor. “But this is your first sleepover, so I will excuse the horrendous oversight this once.”
Akashi laughed, a true and pleasurable sound that Kuroko enjoyed, and fell to the floor next to Kuroko.
There was an easiness to their presence, a comfort that transcended the team’s usual camaraderie. While Akashi was their captain and seemed to keep a certain distance between himself and the rest of Teikou, Kuroko never truly accepted that. Aomine once said it was because Akashi was super rich and didn’t want to get close to the lesser mortals, but Midorima believed Akashi was responsible for the betterment of the team and never wanted to get close to them, in case he needed to demote or cut a member. Kise believed Akashi just wasn’t close to anyone, while Murasakibara proved that theory inaccurate.
But Kuroko never knew exactly what to think—until now. Akashi’s upbringing never allowed him to be close to anyone. In fact, he probably didn’t know how to be, and the Teikou Basketball Club was the closest anyone was to Akashi Seijuro.
Except Kuroko. When Akashi saw him that day in the gym, eyeing him with such fascination, Kuroko’s own interest piqued at this obviously good-looking and intelligent peer. There was something mysterious and foreboding about Akashi Seijuro, but his mystique and gentle-nature were more than alluring. Even now, as they opened their Maji Burger bags and watched the movie, a nagging excitement sparkled in Kuroko’s stomach, jolts of anticipation that he tried futilely to ignore, especially when Akashi watched him take a sip of his vanilla milkshake with such intense concentration.
“You are quite addicted to vanilla, aren’t you?” Akashi chuckled.
Kuroko shrugged, enjoying a rather long sip of his milkshake, before replying. “I tend to look at it as a healthy obsession.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Says the captain, president, and leader of every club he’s ever been in.”
“Are you saying I’m addicted to power?”
“I’m saying I’m not the only one who has an obsession.”
Akashi’s demeanor grow serious then, and he dropped his half-eaten cheeseburger to its wrapper. “It is my family’s way. We win at everything, excel in everything. I do not know how to do anything but.”
Kuroko could not ignore the opportunity. “Except for sleepovers. I had to provide the junk food, instructions, movies, and I do not believe we annoyed Concierge enough to have really checked that item off the list. In the every sense of epic sleepovers, you have failed quite epic-ly.”
Akashi conceded with a bow and a beginning smirk. “Then teach me, Kuroko-sensei.”
They couldn’t risk ordering more junk food, so Kuroko decided that would have to wait for another week. However, they did use Kuroko’s phone to call Concierge and pretend to be Akashi’s father, scolding the older man for allowing his son burgers and fries, of all food. They switched Masaomi’s shampoo with his conditioner—though Akashi, himself, almost had a heart attack while Kuroko did the actually switching—and they eventually put on a rated R-movie, which neither were allowed to see but decided to watch anyway. Instead of being energized by their disobedience, they both figured out the killer within the fifteen minutes of the movie, traded notes, and promptly passed out before two A.M.
They awoke the next morning to the maid pulling back the curtains, tsking when Akashi hissed and Kuroko burrowed farther into his blankets. If there had been enough room under the couch, Kuroko would have rolled underneath it.
But the maid, like most people, overlooked his weak presence. “You should know better than to sleep on the floor, Akashi-sama,” she berated with fond exasperation. “Your father would fire me if he knew of such foolishness. Now you better get up. You have morning basketball practice in less than an hour.”
“Yes, thank you, Maid-san. I appreciate your concern. Would you please fix me some breakfast?”
Akashi’s hair stuck in a hundred different directions, and Kuroko was glad the blankets covered his face. After all, the hairstyle was adorable, and he wouldn’t have minded waking up to it a few more times.
“Of course,” Maid replied with a sweet smile, “but don’t dawdle in the shower, or you’ll never make it on time.”
“Yes, thank you.”
As soon as she retreated into the kitchen, Kuroko threw off his covers and headed into the bathroom, Akashi following behind with a fresh change of clothes for them. Kuroko took to the shower first as he was the first one inside, and when he held out his hand for his borrowed clothes, he felt nothing but air. He finally stuck out his head, only to see Akashi brushing his teeth, oblivious to Kuroko’s needs while the towel and fresh clothes hung on a rack a few feet away.
“Akashi-kun?” Kuroko called once, twice, but he couldn’t turn off the water for fear of the maid listening. “Akashi-kun?” He tried again but to no avail. Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate and tip-toed out of the shower to snatch the towel, but not before meeting Akashi’s amused eyes in the mirror.
“Akashi-kun is a pervert,” Kuroko spat, cheeks inflamed and his stomach doing that annoying little tug again.
Akashi’s cheeks also burned, but he looked smug, satisfied. “I do believe this nominates me for the Epic Sleepover Awards.”
Kuroko hmphed and toweled off, making sure not to get uncovered again until Akashi stepped behind the shower curtain.
Of course, he waited for Akashi to come out, sitting on the edge of the bathroom vanity, ready for his own viewing session when Akashi shut off the shower and exited—in a pair of briefs.
“Akashi-kun is not playing fair,” Kuroko pouted.
Akashi laughed. “I play to win. That’s not always fair.”
Akashi took his breakfast to go, sharing half with Kuroko on the way to school, and once they were on Teikou grounds and away from wandering ears, Akashi snagged Kuroko with a tug on his wrist.
“That was…fun, Kuroko. Thank you for an entertaining evening.”
Kuroko felt an unconscious but not unwanted grin overtake his face, and he offered a dip of the head. “I enjoyed it as well. Perhaps we can do again in the future.”
Akashi’s smile remained, but his eyes shifted. He didn’t believe they could. “Yes, let’s.”
And so on the following Friday, Kuroko stumbled into the Teikou basketball club room dragging three bags—a book bag, gym bag, and a night bag.
“Hey, Tetsu, you staying at my house tonight?” Aomine asked as he reached inside his locker for a shirt, only to find it missing. “Whah! Where’s my stuff?”
Midorima pushed up his glasses, his face stone cold and reserved, yet Kuroko saw him fuming behind the calm façade. “Dirty clothes should be cleaned, Ahomine, not left to stew in another person’s locker.”
“Eh? I kept my clothes in mine.”
“Then how did they find their way into mine?”
“I don’t know, but what did you do with them, huh? I need them for practice!”
Something prickled on the back of Kuroko’s neck, and he turned to find Akashi smirking at him, sharing this innocent secret.
“You threw them out!” Aomine howled. “How am I supposed to practice today?”
Akashi stepped forward now, his face the epitome of seriousness even as his eyes danced. “Midorima, lend Aomine one of your outfits today for practice.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“You should not have thrown out Aomine’s clothes, despite where they may have ended up.”
“Ha!” Aomine shouted.
“But you should take your clothes home to clean, Aomine. So today, you will run your laps without shoes to remind you of that fact.”
With a growl, Midorima pulled out his extra outfit and threw it to Aomine. “You better return it clean.”
Aomine, however, just sniffed it. “Hm. Smells like pine. You must have washed it at least once this week, huh?”
Midorima looked like he was about to pass out from disgust.
Kuroko, however, shared a silent laugh with Akashi before they headed out to the court together. That night, they left the court together as well.
To Be Continued...