#knbfic

[solfics]

kagami taiga asking you out on a date.

# tags: headcanon, lover!boy, slight confession, college!knb, fluff

includes: gn!reader and kagami taiga (the loml).

author's note: hello! this is my first work. i'm uploading this to test out the waters with how tumblr works hehe. here's a little something for our lover boy, taiga, and how he's like when he's got a crush <3

↪ This man embodies the imagery of a hopeless romantic who's unexpectedly took a liking with the quiet and shy student. True to the eyes of any outsider, the aura he possessed is nothing but that of an alpha—where everyone either wanted him, hated him, or wanted to be like him.

↪ Of course, the first option is always made clear on his end whenever his presence graced the halls of your campus. With him being one of the most loved athletes of your school, you knew what came along with his status, it was inevitable. He was meant to be with the big crowd, in fact, everywhere he went—the crowd goes.

↪ But who knew that all it took was one course requirement for you to be paired up with the big shot athlete that is him, for him to have his eyes on you?

It was the second month of your second semester, which meant that it had been exaclty five months since your interaction with him. Your memory of that class seemed to be a blur, only remembering the fact that your metaphysics professor decided to pair you up with him because he thought that it would be a good idea to spice things up in his class.

You didn't complain nor protest at the idea, however it was not in your list to be paired up with him. In fact, you initially planned on working on the final paper alone, but your plans changed the minute you took sight of the red headed man as he introduced himself to you. Soon enough, the last thing you could remember was him giving you a fist bump and thanking you for your help in said class, and neither of you crossed paths again. Just as you expected, everything panned out in history.

"Uhm, hi?" you looked at the standing figure in front of you. It was none other than Kagami, whom you've not seen in the last few months and the person you least expected to be right in front of you. More questions piled up in your thoughts as you watch him pull out what looked like tickets and placed it near you. "Para saan 'to?" (What is this for?) you asked.

Kagami rotates the wooden chair backwards to take his seat in front of you, not minding the fact that the ruckus in your college's library was because of him. Once he was situated in his spot, he pulled sent a curt nod towards the tickets and spoke, "For the game."

"I know that these are tickets for this week's game, but what exactly does this have to do with me?" you scanned the tickets and asked as you took notice of how your voice seemed at edge, because why on earth would he give you these? It's not like you were friends, right?

"About that..." his voiced trailed off. As you looked straight at him, he caught your curious eyes and felt his breath hitch. "A-About that, uhm..." his ears were getting red, why is that? You asked yourself.

"N-Now I know we never talked about anything back at Sir Reginald's class, and we parted ways shortly after that final paper..." he started off, looking at his own hands.

"And I'm assuming that basketball's not your thing and it's been months since we last talked but..." he was fumbling on his own words at this point, leaving you to bite your lip in anticipation. "But...?" you urged him on. He noticed your small smile and huffed out a short breath.

"But I really regret n-not taking the opportunity to get to know you and tell you about myself and now I just... I don't want to miss my chance again."

You looked at the tickets' details—it was your school against another top university. You chuckled and looked at him, "Is this your way of getting me to know about your insanely incredible skills at basketball?"

The redness of his cheeks and ears were back upon hearing your question, "I promise to make every score count so you going won't be a waste of time," he mumbled which got you laughing.

"I'll watch," you said and looked at him with a smile, "But only if you'll let me talk about any topic over burgers after the game."

He returned your smile with one of his own, the familiar smile from months ago, "Yes please."

#knbfics #kagami taiga #kagami taiga x reader #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basuke x reader

[izukillme-moved]

KnB VDay Challenge 2020

Yeah I know... so super early to this, lol 😂😂😂

@vanilla-daydreams

Thank you all so much for running this event! I had the time of my life writing these prompts!!

Series link here

Fic 1: seventy percent cocoa (and a hundred percent love) (RikoMomo)

Fic 2: Of Shirts and Hot Girlfriends (AyaKane, aka Izuki-neesan x Koganei-neesan)

Fic 3: and she's the most beautiful thing you ever saw (MasAlex/Araki x Alex)

Fic 4: turn me into a sap, will you? (AoKaga)

Fic 5: your hands on my hips (my kiss on your lips) (MidoKise)

Fic 6: The Boy Who Loved The Moon (IzuHyuu)

Fic 7: Woes of a Matchmaker (MuraAka)

Have fun reading, and if you enjoyed please leave me a comment, I will love you forever!

#knbvdaychallenge2020 #aokaga #midokise #izuhyuu #akamura #masalex #ayakane #momoriko #rikomomo #muraaka #kisemido #kagaao #fyaokaga #ceru writes #fanfiction #kuroko no basuke #knbfic #my writing #aomine #kagami #hyuuga #izuki #riko #momoi #midorima #kise #akashi #murasakibara #masako #alex

[bubziles]

AOKISE AU !!!!!

aokise au where kise immediately falls inlove with touou’s ace aomine daiki but the problem is aomine finds kise as an annoying and weak player.

click here for chapter one

#aokise #aomine x kise #aomine #kise #gom #knb #midorima #murasakibara #akashi #kuroko #kagami #takao #knb au #aokise au #knbfic

[ellayuki]

20.09.’17

kuroko no basket, takao pov

he won’t let shin-chan’s and akashi’s effortless teamwork bring him down.

a/n: spoilers for the movie

~

he trains.

harder, harsher, more focused than he’s ever been before. he can tell even shin-chan’s a bit suspicious of it, though his stoic partner doesn’t say anything, just accepts the long hours of practice as only natural if they want to perfect their combinations.

it’s kind of frustrating.

he’s being irrational, he knows, and he knows he has nothing to worry about, that their teamwork is as good as it’s ever going to get, that shin-chan wouldn’t do something as pointless as make comparisons.

it still nags in the back of his mind, though.

they’ve poured so many hours into perfecting that pass, days and days and days dedicated to it, to making sure that they always get it just right, the timing, the speed, the height. everything.

and then along comes perfect akashi seijuurou and does it so effortlessly, without even having tried it once before, and takao can’t help the bitter laughter bubbling up his throat. because of course it would be perfect.

of course.

so he swallows the bitter lump in his throat every time he remembers, and trains harder, makes sure he gets better.

because he won’t let anyone, not even the former captain of the generation of miracles himself, overshadow him as shin-chan’s partner.

#Kuroko no Basket #Kuroko no Basuke #MidoTaka #KNB #Last Game #KnB Spoilers #by moi #Fic #My Fic #EllaTriesToWriteDaily #KNBFic #Post 6900

[yuugo]

devour all, devour all

Rating: M (mature) Pairing: akakuro (akashi/kuroko) Summary: One summer day, Akashi Seijuurou happens upon Kuroko Tetsuya, across a stream. (Pomegranates, for December. He can never leave the Underworld now, bound by the food that resides in his stomach and disperses into his veins.) ~8200 words

I CANT BELIEVE THIS THING IS 8000 WORDS HOLY SHIT

happy white day @el-disturbance!! this is my payback gift for your wonderful valentine’s gift! a hades/persephone au that’s.... not really...............

link to ao3

#knb #kuroko no basuke #akakuro #akakurowhiteday2017 #knbfic #aurafic

[merryfortune]

Ao3 Link

Title: Old Blue

Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke

Rating: M

Relationship: Kise/Kasamatsu

Additional Tags:  Alternate Universe - Pirates, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Stylistic Choices, Swearing, fantasy geography, Irish Mythology - Freeform, Alcohol, Death, Slight Violence, Slight Sexism, slight homophobia, Fantasy World, Magic, Original Universe, Implied Past Relationships, Sexual References, Fire, Illness

Summary:

Kise Ryouta is a washed up pirate without a crew. The Teikou Pirates are no more. The rainbow is fading fast. And honestly? Kise is thrilled by this. He can't stand those pricks anymore. He wants to make it on his own. Find a new crew; ensure that he remains famous and golden.

But for now, he loafs around at a tiny tavern which is a mindless speck on the map in a backwater country he had never even heard of before. Why? Because the barman has especially beautiful blue eyes.

Other fun links: series | series pinterest board | aesthetics/moodboards

#merry writes stuff #since i was taling about it earlier #thoguht i would post a link #kuroko no basuke #the basketball which kuroko plays #kuroko's basketball #knb #kise ryouta #kasamatsu yukio #kikasa #kise x kasamatsu #kasamatsu x kise #i have plans to make moodboards later once i read some of sociology textbook #ask to tag #knbfic

[eatjinda]

[fic] gimme (your love)

pairings: kagakuro

rated: pg-13 

warnings: swearing mostly

word count: 1666 (lol) words

prompt: magical institutions au

fluff fluff fluff

for the @kagakuroexchange; to @lucysaionji 

i saw ‘magical institutions’ and i was like yesssss harry potter au. so here is kagakuro in a harry potter au.

(note: both kagami and kuroko are in gryffindor)

-------

(there’s a transfiguration accident and kagami ends up in the hospital)

-------

The bite on his right hand is painful and Kagami swears loudly. He starts with a simple ‘fuck’ and upgrades to ‘holy flying motherfucking shit fuck this fucking hurts’. It produces enough of a commotion that the entire room stops to watch Kagami flail his hand around as he tries to swallow the curses down but fails miserably and ends up just yelling them into the air.

The spider on the floor is at least four inches long and it is possibly the scariest thing Kagami has ever seen in his life. He is sure that it will become a recurring character in his nightmares for the next, oh, maybe seven years. Truly terrifying. The creature skitters around on the floor, clearly confused, and why wouldn’t it be with all the students screaming and scrambling on chairs and desks.

In a matter of seconds, the teacher quickly dispels the spider and the magic wears off, leaving a rusty old goblet sitting on the floor. The students calm down and the teacher orders them to return to their work before approaching a dying Kagami and a guilty-looking Kuroko.

“To the nurse,” the teacher says quickly. “Kuroko, take him.”

Kuroko nods quickly before grabbing Kagami by the elbow and dragging him. The venom is starting to circulate through Kagami’s veins and he feels queasy and dizzy. He’s pretty sure that he’s going to pass out right about now and his legs give out, resulting in him falling to the floor with a loud thud.

“Kagami-kun, are you okay?” Kuroko asks but there are two of him and Kagami isn’t sure which one he should answer.

So instead he just says, “Fuck,” before passing out.

//

When he wakes up, he has no idea what time it is. His entire right side aches terribly and he tries to take stock of himself. He’s in the infirmary and it’s night time, this much he can tell. There are only a couple of students in the infirmary – one girl who's in the far corner and a boy a little bit closer. The boy is completely knocked out and the girl is quietly reading a book. Beside his own bed are two small novels, some extra bandages, a bottle of some sort of antidote that’s thick and dark and looks disgusting.

Kagami finds it hard to move his right arm but he manages to raise it enough to inspect the spider bite near his thumb. At the moment he’s wrapped up in bandages and can’t really take a look at the wound but his hand is roughly two times its original size. His entire body aches like he hasn’t moved in days and he wonders how long he’s been asleep for.

“How are you feeling, Kagami-kun?”

Kagami jumps. Lost in thought, he hadn’t seen Kuroko come in. But here Kuroko is, another novel tucked into the crook of his elbow and a bag hanging from his other hand. He’s not wearing his school robes, opting for a blue-and-white striped t-shirt and jeans.

“Kuroko can you stop freaking me out like that?” Kagami says, propping himself up to a sitting position. He watches as Kuroko places the bag by his feet and pulls a chair over to sit in by the bed.

Ignoring him, Kuroko decides to fill him in on helpful details. “You’ve been asleep for two days straight. Apparently it should only take a few more days to heal completely.”

“That’s good, I guess. We’ve got a quidditch match coming up next week. Kinda need this to play,” Kagami holds up his arm and waves it about a little before deciding that hurts and letting it rest on his stomach instead.

“Um, Kagami-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about the spider. I wanted it to be a rat instead but– well, it didn’t work out.”

Kagami looks at Kuroko. The look on Kuroko’s face is one of guilt and his bangs dangle in front of his downcast eyes as he hangs his head. Kuroko is mostly deadpan, save for when he’s playing quidditch and when Kagami has him grasping at the sheets and biting his lip from waking up their roommates with his cries. There are few times Kagami gets to see this lost-puppy side of Kuroko and although Kuroko is upset, it kind of makes him happy. Kuroko only really gets like this after a lost quidditch match, so he must feel bad. Granted, he should feel bad because that spider bite could have killed him.

But Kagami only feels that for a second before he softens and reaches forward to ruffle Kuroko’s hair with his good hand. “You look like you’ve been defeated,” Kagami chuckles. “It’s fine. I’m not dead.”

Kuroko lets out a sigh and removes a fresh shirt from the bag he’d brought. It’s clean and already much more appealing than the sweaty hospital shirt he feels like he’s definitely slept in for two days. “I brought a new shirt for you because the one you’re wearing smells awful.”

“You’re right, I smell terrible,” Kagami says, blushing a little because Kuroko had noticed. He accepts the shirt and goes to change but discovers that it’s quite difficult with one very useless arm. He tries to unbutton the shirt with his good hand but it’s taking forever. Kuroko sees Kagami’s suffering and decides to help, mostly because he still feels bad about the whole thing.

Kuroko moves to the edge of the bed, sitting beside Kagami’s hip. He leans forward and starts working away at Kagami’s buttons.

Kuroko has his ways of unknowingly making Kagami crumble. Sometimes it’s the way he reads with the back of his pale neck exposed or it’s the way he sweats heavily at practice and his skin shines under the bright sun as he flies through the air. Right now it’s the way he’s so focused on undressing Kagami, butt pressing into his hip as he leans over. He’s leaning far enough forward that Kagami can see his chest and his collarbones and that’s always a good way to get Kagami hard. Kuroko is quick with his work, though, and the moment ends.

For the next few days, Kuroko comes to visit, but mostly just sits by Kagami’s bed and reads novels. After a few dirty jokes by Kagami, Kuroko no longer feels the need to worry. Instead, he goes back to his normal deadpan, matter-of-fact self, which Kagami likes best. He likes how unaffected Kuroko is, likes the challenge of getting Kuroko to offer him a smile or open his heart enough that he’ll rely on Kagami.

“The nurse said one more night,” Kagami says around a chocolate frog. “To celebrate my release, why don’t we do something together?”

“Did she say one night? Or did you say one night?”

“She said one night. Kuroko, after all this time you still don’t trust me?”

Kuroko doesn’t answer, flipping the page of his book. Kagami settles back into his pillow and closes his eyes, lets the sound of Kuroko’s even breathing lull him to sleep.

//

Kuroko isn’t there when Kagami is released from the hospital wing. To be precise, no one is there. The halls are empty, save for the few students milling around, and Kagami searches for a head of pale blue hair, half-expecting Kuroko to show up behind him unannounced.

Kagami sees no sign of Kuroko, however, and heads back to the Gryffindor tower. Kuroko had mentioned the changed password, and it takes him a minute to remember exactly what it was. When he gets it and enters the common room, he finds no one there. He goes up the stairs and into the boy's dormitory, finds no one there either. Sighing, he flops down on his bed and looks at the ceiling.

“Kagami-kun.”

Kagami jumps and almost falls off the bed. “Fuck, Kuroko, since when were you here?”

Kuroko is standing next to his bed, wearing a plain white polo and khakis. A novel lies forgotten on his bed. “How do you feel?”

Kagami lets out a long sigh and knots his fingers behind his head, closing his eyes. “I could use a refresher.”

A moment of silence passes, and Kagami is about to ask for a blow job or something, knowing that he’d be asking in vain, but then Kuroko is pushing hard at his side. Kuroko isn’t strong enough to really move him but he (knowingly) hits the sensitive spot just below Kagami’s ribs which sends Kagami flinching away. The space made on the twin bed is apparently enough for Kuroko to fit. Kuroko crawls into Kagami’s side and pushes his forehead into his chest, hiding his face.

“Kuroko?” Kagami says. It’s rare for Kuroko to be so affectionate. Sure, he’s straightforward and has no problem voicing his feelings for Kagami, but he’s not so touchy.

“I haven’t properly apologized,” he mutters, voice muffled in Kagami’s shirt.

“What if someone walks in?”

“Everyone’s in Hogsmeade all day,” Kuroko answers. Kagami should have guessed that, but apparently the lack of students everywhere wasn’t enough of a clue for him. He makes a small ah noise at the realization.

“That makes sense, I guess.” Kagami’s thankful for the luck anyhow.

They lay in a comfortable silence as their feet tangle and Kagami threads fingers through blue hair, his other hand moving to rest on Kuroko’s waist. Kuroko smells good, like a sea breeze on a sunny day.

Kagami can never stay mad at Kuroko long, especially not when Kuroko is so sorry that he’d go so far as to initiate a cuddle session on his own. He’d forgiven him a long time ago but he won’t say anything so he can milk the attention a little while longer.

#kagakuroexchange #it be a short one #pg13 #fic:kagakuro #knbfic #kagakuro #knb

[preciousghoul-blog]

Title: His Soulmate

Pairing: Midorima/Takao

Synopsis: Soulmate AU. Takao Kazunari's been hearing soulmate this, soulmate that since the moment he could remember whatever he heard. But he's 19, and he's yet to meet his. Does his soulmate really exist out there, bearing a mark only he can see?

Soulmate, soulmate, soulmate.

Doesn’t anybody talk about anything else? It’s been 19 years since Takao Kazunari was born, and the only thing people around him ever talked about was their soulmate. No one ever talks about the latest games, fashion, or even entrance exams. In Kazunari’s world, soulmates were everything, from the moment you were born to the day you die. A world without soulmates? Well, that’s Kazunari’s version of a desired happily ever after.

Since he was young enough to understand words, Kazunari’s mother had drowned him in the principles of Soulmates nightly rather than real bedtime stories – like the fairy tales he desired so badly when he was a child. It was the same thing every night – Kazunari would sulk and throw a tantrum, and his mother would tell him the same thing:

“Kazunari, you’re simply too young to understand. Soulmates are romantic,” she sighed before continuing. “Somewhere on you there is a mark of an animal which represents your soulmate that only they can see, and vice versa. The glow will enable you to tell who they are. But it’s not needed, you see; your heart will register them before your eyes even land on the mark. That’s the power of soulmates.”

At the time, Kazunari had simply huffed with a “But I don’t need a soulmate,” and rubbed his dripping snot away with his still chubby hand.

At age 19, Kazunari was just ever so slightly afraid. He hadn’t met his soulmate yet. Every morning, the news reporter would happily claim that the statistics of people dying before leading a fulfilled life with their soulmate was 0%. Unheard of. Of course, he wasn’t the first to not find his soulmate before the age of 15, but it was rare. Really rare. Super-duper-hyper rare. Kazunari was beginning to wonder if he even had a soulmate out there, if they wanted to find him, or whether they were reluctant just like he was.

Would he be the first human in the world to die without meeting his soulmate? Or worse, what if they met but didn’t fall in love? It was a question no one ever dared to voice, and it was at the same time Kazunari’s greatest fear he was so good at masking with the excuse of not needing one.

Maybe that’s why Kazunari was so shocked he stopped and bumped into someone when he saw a glowing hawk tattoo through a man’s shirt – right above his heart, in the middle of a crowd. It was but a typical day; Kazunari woke up in the morning, washed his face, changed and dragged himself to university, got through the day, and was just making his way home.

Yet there he was. He knew it from the same look of surprise on his face. His soulmate.

Kazunari’s gaze shifted to the café next to him, knowing the man’s eyes would follow. They did. The green haired man pushed up his glasses and nodded, keeping his face carefully blank. Oh no, Kazunari groaned inwardly as he took brisk steps into the café, heart still thumping wildly. Don’t tell me my soulmate is the indifferent type of person. God, no.

Midorima Shintarou couldn’t tear his gaze away from his soulmate.

His soulmate. Now that was a foreign word to the man. 12am after his 15th birthday, he had given up on finding his soulmate. Shintarou wasn’t exactly interested in relationships, anyway. The oha-asa was much more important than some person who’d be craving his attention 24/7. The mere thought was repulsing. But when he stood there, staring at the area above his chest, he knew. The small green glow of a frog tattoo on the back of his right hand gave it away.

“So, um…” the hesitant voice of his soulmate – would he ever get used to that word being used on himself? – brought Shintarou back to the present. “I’m… Takao Kazunari. You’re…” his voice trailed off, beckoning Shintarou to introduce himself. He cleared his throat before answering, wondering why it was dry as it was.

“Shintarou. Midorima Shintarou. I’m guessing you can see your mark on me like I can see mine on yours?”

“Oh. Um. Yes.” Silence. “Are you surprised, Midorima…-san?”

Shintarou frowned. He didn’t like how Takao added a –san to his name. But he’d let it go this time. More importantly… Shintarou pushed up his glasses, the way he always did when he was troubled. “What do you mean?”

Takao seemed flustered that Shintarou answered his question with one of his own. Well, happy getting used to that, soulmate.

“I mean… We’re…” he gestured between the two of them with his right index finger, the glowing mark catching Shintarou’s attention once again. “…both… guys…”

Shintarou’s frown deepened. “Is that a problem?” It wasn’t uncommon for soulmates to be of the same sex. Shintarou didn’t mind either way. Or maybe Takao is hetero? That’d be troublesome.

“No, as long as you don’t, I don’t really…”

The conversation died down awkwardly. They just stared at each other’s mark for a long, long time…

“Excuse me, your mocha.”

“So, how does your mark look like on me? It’s on the area right above my heart, right?”

Kazunari was surprised Midorima-san opened his mouth first. He had been straightforward and had kept his answers short; bluntly put, he didn’t come off as the type who’d initiate small talk. What was even more shocking was how observant he was.

“It’s… a hawk.”

Midorima-san pushed up his glasses – Kazunari was beginning to realize he did that when he was thinking. “A hawk?” he echoed, sounding genuinely curious.

“I think it’s ‘cause I supposedly have good vision called Hawk Eye. I was the Point Guard in my high school basketball team.” Midorima-san’s eyes widened slightly at that answer. Kazunari fought the urge to smile. Did he catch his soulmate off-guard? He’d only known him for less than an hour, but it was easy to tell Midorima Shintarou wasn’t caught off-guard often. Then something came to him.

“How about your mark? Where is it? What is it?”

When Midorima-san frowned at the question, Kazunari shrunk in his seat and took a long sip of his mocha. The man frowned often enough, and he worried if he’d done anything to offend him.

“It’s on the back of your right hand.”

Kazunari relaxed when he answered and instinctively reached for the back of his right hand, stroking the rough skin. He saw nothing. Not lifting his gaze from that area, he waited for Midorima-san to elaborate or end the conversation once and for all. Dreading the worst, Kazunari reached for his mocha and sucked it dry. At least the money won’t be wasted this way.

“It’s a… frog.”

Kazunari almost choked on his drink, his supposedly laughter turning into a series of coughing. “Is it that funny?” Midorima-san seemed almost… bashful. Kazunari laughed again. Oh my God. Now that he looked closely; his hair colour, the shape of his face… They really did resemble one of a predatory frog! He bit his lip in an attempt to put on a serious face, but it failed.

It took another full minute before Kazunari composed himself and bowed an apology.

“I’m sorry, Midorima-san… it’s just…” suits you so well, he finished the thought in his mind.

Midorima-san pushed up his glasses again. “Shintarou.”

For the first time since meeting him, Kazunari frowned. “Pardon?”

“Call me Shintarou. After all, we’ll be living together A.S.A.P. You can’t call me by the name you’ll be wearing soon, Kazunari.” Hearing his name sent shivers down Kazunari’s spine and he forgot to tease Mido – Shintarou for using A.S.A.P. How out of character was that?

“But still, calling you Shintarou’s a bit…” Shintarou watched as Kazunari bite his lower lip as he scanned for other possibilities. “Ah! I know! How about Shin-chan!”

“Wha-”

“Alright! Shin-chan sounds perfect! OK, Shin-chan you are!”

He was baffled by this soulmate of his. No matter what, calling a 19 year old man Shin-chan is… Shintarou opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out when he saw the bright look on Kazunari’s face. Fine. Gods, it’s only been 2 hours, and he was already getting influenced. He really should’ve taken his mother’s words to heart that soulmates changes everything.

“So, Shin-chan!” Now that Kazunari’s given him a new name, it seems he’s more open with Shintarou. Good. “Tell me about yourself.” He did. The next hour, they were exchanging information.

“What? You’re in the same university as I am?!”

Shintarou smiled a rare smile, pleased that he managed to surprise Kazunari. “Yes. And I’ll have you know I’m the shooting guard for my high school’s basketball team.”

“Basketball?” Each time Kazunari’s eyes widen a little, so does Shintarou’s smile. “…And I do intend to join the one in our university too.”

Shin-chan was looking at him with expectations in those eyes behind his glasses. Kazunari gulped, hoping to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Umm… Likewise,” he managed, the friendliness from before dissipating completely. High school basketball? Yet they’ve never played against each other even once? The hell?

“Good.” Kazunari wasn’t given a chance to think more, because Shin-chan stood up. “Then I guess I’ll see you around, soulmate.” And he was out of the door.

It was a much elated reaction, but a grin finally formed on Kazunari’s lips.

His soulmate.

#the fanfic i had completely forgotten to upload on tumblr until that ask i just received thank you anon #midotaka #knb #midotakafic #knbfic #myfanfic

[barnacletree]

sidestory [aokise]

happy christmas, bunnyhips!

summary: that's all it is; winter break and growing up word count: 5653 rating: t AO3

New revelations are hard to come by now, when for years they've watched each other grow immense and terrifying into the names given to them when they were still teething. When standing across from each other they saw the world for how small it really was and even after they parted ways there was no longer anywhere for them to go where they couldn't be found. When they've shared a table, shared a uniform, shared defeat, shared this game they love more than anything else they will ever touch. When they know each other like a mirror.

It’s been a long time since Teikou. In a few months, Touou and Kaijou will be behind them too. In a few months, they will be all their own for the first time in all the time they’ve known each other, no numbers emblazoned on their backs, their chests bare of kanji. Daiki had lost track of the years, between tournaments and weekend pick-up games and this something with Kise that has been growing steadily underfoot despite distance like salted earth, this something that does not come as a revelation.

But now, in anticipation of spring, he finds there is still so much he didn't think he didn't know. Small revelations crouched behind questions like what they will be come March, when it no longer matters that they were Touou’s ace, Kaijou’s Kise, Teikou’s miracles. What shape they take off the court. If Kise will still follow. What Daiki has to do so Kise will.

That moment of suspension, of air hang before free fall, that follows questions like, "Where are you going?"

He bounces the basketball against the pavement, to ground himself. Kise doesn't look up from his phone.

"Didn't I tell Aominecchi," Kise says. His hoodie is only half zipped up, the trenches above his collarbones deep and dark.

"I never asked," Daiki says. Shouldn't have to, is what he means.

"Sorry," says Kise. "I must have forgotten."

The ball doesn't quite reach Daiki's hand on the next bounce, and he has to bend to scoop it back up. The thing is, anyone could tell you, Kise doesn't forget. Kise never forgoes an opportunity for attention if he can help it and even then, only after he's exhausted every avenue of communication. This seems the kind of thing Kise'd set into everyone's phone calendars, to remind them how desirable, bankable, untouchable he is and don't you wish you'd been nicer to him. But Daiki is only hearing about it now and Kise is not meeting his eyes. The light of Kise's phone screen illuminates the lines of his palm, and Daiki is trying to remember the last thing Kise mailed him, what it was about, did it hint to the oceans Daiki might now have to cross if he wants Kise to look at him again.

Daiki starts to dribble the ball again in earnest because otherwise he might throw it at Kise’s head. Satsuki is always telling him to learn how to use his words, but his hands are fluent where his tongue still isn’t. Kise slides his gaze to him, finally.

Kise can read him because Kise's taken the time to learn how. Kise can translate. After a moment, cold and long, Kise takes a breath.

Daiki cuts him off. "You can do whatever you want."

"I know that," says Kise, measured and slow, dismantling Daiki as if he has every right to what's inside.

Kise takes the last few steps to Daiki, who has stopped to wait under a street lamp, and doesn't say anything else. Instead, his thumbs resume their tracks over his phone. Daiki glances between the string of sparkling emoji on the screen and Kise’s expression, smoothed over now, and distant. Daiki tucks the basketball under his arm. They move from under the light.

“Aominecchi is going to be fine,” Kise says at last. He matches his steps effortlessly to Daiki's. A car drives by, headlights glaring, and their shadows blacken then fade.

Daiki's knuckles ache, a phantom bruise.

"Whatever," Daiki says, just to say something. He grabs Kise’s elbow, steers him around a square of wet cement. “Watch where you’re going, will you. Who’re you sending mail to that can’t wait until after we’ve got food?”

It smells like snow soon and neither of them are dressed warm enough. The sweat from their earlier game seems to have frozen on Daiki’s skin, like if he flexed his shoulders the sheet of ice would crack all down his spine.

Kise puts his phone away and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. Daiki’s knuckles are going red from cold around Kise’s elbow. He doesn't let go and Kise doesn't answer the question.

--

The next morning, he wakes up just as the seventeenth message from Kise in under an hour pings into his inbox, about feeling miserable and hideous and missing an interview today and how could Aominecchi let this happen. It looks to Daiki like the crying emojis will flood his phone and then his room, his life. But Daiki wonders what Kise's expression is now, behind his phone on the other end, if it would be smoothed over and distant, like it had been under the street lamp.

Even if so, there must be dark circles under his eyes as deep as Daiki’s. The slant of his mouth still devastating. It's reassuring to think this.

Satsuki flips his blinds open and the sun stripes across Daiki's bed.

"Is that Ki-chan," she says. "What does he want so early in the day?"

His phone goes off again, as if on cue. Daiki scowls and shoves it under his pillow.

“You’re going to summon him,” he says, closing his eyes against the great injustices of life. “And he doesn't like you calling him that.”

He hears her huff. He cracks an eye open to see her with her hands on her hips, trying not to laugh.

“We’re manly men," he explains. "So stop with the -chan."

She does laugh then, unapologetically. He wishes Tetsu would emerge from the shadows right now, somehow, so she would show some shame.

“Go away,” he grumbles, "if you're just going to be annoying."

She takes up her backpack, promises to come by again later after cram school and dinner with a friend whose name is unfamiliar to Daiki. She tells him not to mope, try to do something productive, you'll be an adult soon.

Soon but not for a few months yet. She's been ready all her life, he knows. By necessity more than anything else, having to look after him, wiping away his snot when they were younger, chasing him down from school rooftops, making sure he at least makes a perfunctory effort with his homework. She didn't argue when he told her he wasn't taking any entrance exams and had turned down every recruiter that showed up at Touou and hung up on those who somehow found his number. She understood that he had come full circle, back to where he has always been happiest, asphalt courts and chain-link fences and hoops missing their nets, none of that slick and shine. Daiki takes this as a sign that he is making the right choice. She would take it a personal affront to her honor if he were to sabotage himself now, after all her hard work.

But last week he had asked her, "What do I do now?" and she had said, "You'll always have me. But other than stopping you from inadvertently killing yourself, I'm not going to tell you what to do anymore."

He takes that to heart. He has been unfair to her for far too long, still goes to her empty-handed and expects her to prop him back up. Now, more than anyone else, she makes him want to be good, if only so she could stop having to split her energies between him and the universes of possibilities that have been waiting patiently for years at her heel.

Still, it's been difficult. These days, he's rediscovering how susceptible he is to loneliness. He hears the key turning in the lock downstairs and then it’s quiet except the distant humming of the fridge that needs replacing. He holds out for another seven minutes before sending the mail.

--

“Aominecchi is horrible."

“Stop whining. You don’t even look that bad." He pulls Kise in, and Kise comes with the cold wrapped around him like an aura, so that the hairs on Daiki's arm rise.

In response, Kise coughs long and wracking into his scarf and something strange like guilt spiders into Daiki's chest.

“Well you don’t look it,” Daiki says defensively. He releases Kise's elbow and holds out his hand.

Kise gives him the bag of Maji burgers, like he’s paying a toll. The look he gives Daiki would be withering if his eyes weren't watering so much. He shuffles past Daiki into the living room to topple over onto the couch, his booted feet sticking out over the armrest, his face squishing against the cover of a Mai-chan mag on one of the cushions. His gym bag drops to the floor with a defeated thump.

Something in Daiki recoils. “What makes you think we're playing basketball today,” he says. It comes out sounding accusatory, though he knows it's an unfair question.

Kise knows it too. Kise rolls over to look at him. “Because." He stops.

“We don't always just play basketball. We do other things too. And you're sick, idiot."

Kise watches him, but Daiki keeps his hands still. After a moment, Kise shrugs and the Mai-chan mag crumples under his shoulder.

“We do,” says Kise, "always play basketball."

“We don't."

“I like playing basketball,” Kise insists, and Daiki catches the exasperation sharpening his voice. “Why is Aominecchi suddenly getting so worried? I never said basketball wasn't enough. It is.”

“I'm not worried," Daiki lies, because he's pretty sure Kise is lying too.

“Ok, Aominecchi."

Kise's nose is red and his lips are cracked, but when he blinks up at Daiki, it's calculating in that way Daiki has come to recognize, like Kise is deciding if he's worth the effort after all, just short of a condemnation. Off the court, it seems more and more like the only way Kise ever looks at him. It's not unwarranted; Daiki can't think what else he has to offer either that isn't a good game.

But that doesn't mean he isn't pissed off at Kise for concluding the same. Again there is that old ache in his knuckles. Daiki remembers the bruise from Haizaki’s jaw and how Kise had looked at Haizaki exactly like this too before he let Haizaki walk, before Daiki had to take Haizaki down so he'd stop coming back, thinking he could still be worth Kise's time.

Last night with their shadows puddled at their feet, Daiki doesn't know what Kise found when he dismantled him, measured and slow, but he had let Daiki take his elbow, had paid for their meal, begged to play again soon, wouldn't stop waving until Daiki’s train pulled out of the station. But after all these years, Daiki's learned to read Kise too. Knows Kise has looked at him and thought about putting him to rest. Knows Kise continues to let him walk instead, expecting him to come back with something more to offer.

"You look so stupid," Daiki fires. The guilt in his chest goes out. "All those layers. You look fat."

“Aominecchi is mean," Kise sighs, sounding weary, which Daiki doesn't know how to respond to. "I'm cold. Treat your guests better."

The anger staggers and Daiki tosses the burgers onto the coffee table. When he stomps back in with a blanket, Kise has the mags stacked by the foot of the couch and his boots lined neatly in the hall next to his gym bag. Kise doesn't seem too concerned to have Daiki towering over him again.

Daiki snaps the blanket so that it billows out full and flat, and lets it settle over Kise's head. Kise pulls at it and reemerges with his hair alive with static.

The couch is barely big enough for the both of them once they stretch out and get comfortable, and Tokyo's winter still clings to the fibers of Kise's coat. But then Kise shucks his layers onto the floor and wraps the blanket around his shoulders and there is extra warmth from their limbs overlapping. Daiki shoves a burger into Kise’s hands, already cooling.

“But these are for Aominecchi.“

“Eat what you what,” Daiki snaps, but the anger doesn't quite crest the way he wants it to and he feels clumsy instead. He wrung from himself all these things he wanted to say, to prove, but didn't know how, and now they lay mangled everywhere for him to stumble over.

"You're not fat," he tries.

Kise rolls his eyes, which makes Daiki feel a little better, but Kise puts the burger down anyway and reaches for the remote.

Next to him, Kise flips silently through the channels and Daiki thinks of Kise standing before the counter at Maji with his oversized scarf and woolen mittens, of Kise remembering, ah, Aominecchi hates pickles in his burgers, of Kise thinking of him and how he will probably want to play basketball and it was good that Kise had brought his change of clothes and his own shampoo because the kind Aominecchi uses is too chemical, and of Kise wondering if maybe today he will win, if maybe today he will be good enough, and of Kise shouldering his bag and walking the long, dark distance to Daiki's house with this grease-soaked bag of burgers and fries he's not allowed to have but brought anyway because Daiki wanted him to, came through winter's early dark because Daiki wanted him to, will do everything Daiki wants, it seems, except stay.

"You didn't have to come just because I said," Daiki says over the crinkling of his wrapper, laying down an awkward truce. "You always do."

"Not because I'm nice or anything." Kise shrugs. "I just want to make sure Aominecchi will miss me."

"You really going to leave?"

Kise stops on a commercial for a new BB cream. The girl on the TV is framed by flowers, pink and white, and she's smiling soft, her hands a V cradling her face.

“She was part of my agency," Kise says. He puts the remote down. “That's a big brand. She’s doing really well, huh?”

“You want to be in commercials?”

“I don’t know." Then, as an afterthought, “Sorry, Aominecchi."

“You’re not sorry,” says Daiki. He thinks about it. “But you shouldn't be sorry, anyway.”

“No, I shouldn't,” Kise agrees. His shoulder is bony against Daiki’s. “But I'm sick and I don’t want to talk about it now.”

--

They wake up to the smell of something burning. There’s a crick in Daiki’s neck and his leg is pin-prickly from Kise’s knee pressing into a nerve. He limps into the kitchen to find Satsuki reheating soup. Kise knocks into him from behind.

Even as she’s scolding them for being stupid and irresponsible, she sounds fond instead of angry. Kise looking miserable has that effect on people, Daiki learns. She’s going to let them off easy.

"I can't believe you were going to play basketball," she says. "In this weather. When Ki-chan is sick.”

"We weren't," Daiki says.

"I saw Ki-chan's gym bag in the hall."

“That’s his overnight stuff. He’s staying over.”

Satsuki stares at him, her you offend me if you think I’m going to buy that face. Kise discreetly empties his bowl of soup into the sink. He does not deign to do the same for Daiki’s.

“My parents are away,” Daiki reminds her. “So it’s fine. And your parents are fine with it too, right?”

Kise tucks his hair behind his ears. “They don’t say no to me,” he offers.

“There,” Daiki decides.

Satsuki covers her eyes with a hand and sighs. She doesn't try to dissuade them, which at the least means she doesn't expect Daiki and Kise to kill each other, and that's good enough for Daiki.

--

Satsuki might be wrong for once in her life, because the next morning Daiki comes out of the bathroom shivering and murderous after Kise used up all the hot water for his shower. Daiki goes to strangle him only to find him at the kitchen table smearing something on his face using his phone camera as a mirror.

“Do you mind,” he grouses. “I eat there.”

“Aominecchi could use some of this too,” Kise says evenly, blending out whatever paste is under his eyes. “Though Momoicchi doesn’t have anything in here for your skin tone.”

“Where is she? I don’t smell any burning.”

“She dropped this off for me and went to cram school. She left some more homemade soup, but I poured it out.”

“She still has way too much time on her hands,” Daiki mutters.

“I guess because she doesn’t have to drag you to practice anymore,” says Kise, zipping up Satsuki’s pink cosmetics bag.

The bags under his eyes and the splotchy red of his cheeks are miraculously gone. Daiki still probably looks like shit. Kise smiles at him anyway. “Has Aominecchi been lonely without Momoicchi around?”

Daiki scoffs.

“Let's go eat something,” Kise says. “I’m starving.”

"Ok," says Daiki. “Leave your bag here.”

"I'm coming back?"

"Where else do you have to be?"

--

It's past a reasonable hour for breakfast, so Kise shells out for shabu shabu and they kick at each other's feet under the table as they order enough food for a party of five. Halfway through the meal, Kise gives up battling Daiki for the meat, after his chopsticks fall into the boiling broth for the third time, and settles for just enoki with his rice, until Daiki gives in to the internal nagging that's borrowed Satsuki's voice and spends the rest of the time fishing out slices of beef to place in Kise's bowl. Through the steam rising from the pot, Kise gives him an unreadable look that Daiki chooses to ignore.

They're waiting for the bill and Kise's tapping away on his phone again when Daiki remembers all the questions he has left to ask. Sated and warm, Daiki finds the room to be reckless.

"Why do you hang around so much if you don't even like me?"

"What do you mean." Kise looks up, surprised. "I like Aominecchi. Why do you think I don't? I'm here, aren't I?"

"Because I made you." Or worse, "Or because you feel sorry for me."

"I wouldn't waste my time like that," Kise counters smoothly, direct. His mouth curves easily. “I like you. The thing I like most about you is that you like me."

“Do you even hear yourself,” Daiki says. "And what about my basketball?"

“I guess that’s second.”

"How do you get away with being such a self-centered brat?"

"Because Aominecchi doesn't mind."

"How long will you be away?"

"So many questions," Kise says. He takes the bill when it comes. The owner is relieved to see them go.

Outside, Kise turns to him expectantly, as if to ask, what now?

Daiki doesn’t know, only that there are these questions that Kise won't answer and the clock is running down fast. Touou never did get to play Kaijou again in the tournaments after their first year, and Daiki wonders if that has something to do with this reluctant standstill, because Daiki never got the chance to explain things to Kise in the only context that seemed suitable, never got another chance to offer his hand, could only bluster and throw basketballs at Kise's head and demand Kise buy him food and take Kise home on the weekends.

"What do you want to do," he offers instead.

“We do always just play basketball,” Kise says after a while staring silent at the slow-scrolling wisps of grey cloud. His breath goes up in smoke. Then he seems to take pity on Daiki and amends, “Like I said, that’s enough, Aominecchi.”

“It’s not,” says Daiki, understanding now that it never would have been enough, despite Kise letting him believe for so long that it was.

--

So Daiki pays for their movie tickets and thinks he’s being very gallant. He even lets Kise pick the movie. He ignores the smile Kise gives him, because it’s more bemused than Daiki would have liked.

“Thank you,” Kise says, in English. He’s been practicing his th sound; it's no longer so sibilant. Maybe he’s been taking lessons from Kagami.

America, then, Daiki thinks, or Europe somewhere. An ocean or a continent away.

Daiki grunts. “You’re paying for your own snacks.”

“Stingy,” Kise whines, but it's token.

Kise gets the extra-large tub of popcorn, and only takes a handful before handing it off to Daiki as they sit down.

“If not commercials, maybe you want to be in movies,” Daiki thinks out loud, as the lights dim and the previews come on. The theater is empty except for them and two guys with mohawks three rows in front.

“I would look good up there, wouldn't I,” says Kise, musing. He pulls his scarf loose, now that he doesn't have to hide his face. "Admit it.”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Daiki says. “Didn't I just suggest it?”

“Well, if Aominecchi thinks so, I’ll have to consider it," Kise says, his voice lilting, more sly than genuinely pleased.

"Your English is still atrocious though, so you better stick to Japanese movies."

Lime-Mohawk yells at them to shut the fuck up.

“Aominecchi,” Kise whispers, sinking lower into his seat. “Don’t.”

The popcorn is already sailing its perfect trajectory before Daiki registers it left his hand. It lands on the guy's mohawk, where it stays perched like a crunchy, well-trained pet. The guy doesn't notice.

“Wait, wait,” says Kise, reaching for the tub in Daiki's lap. “I want to try.”

Between the two of them, there’s a total of six pieces of popcorn perched regally atop Lime-Mohawk's 'do before he realizes, and only because Kise overshot and the last piece tumbled into his lap.

Daiki shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth as he watches Magenta try to keep Lime from vaulting over three rows of seats in a single leap that would put Kagami to shame. The movie screen back-lights the two so that they are nothing more than flailing silhouettes, a double-headed eldritch horror that would probably net a sweet amount of EXP if this were a boss fight. Kise covers his face with his scarf.

"Let's go," Kise hisses. Daiki can barely hear him over the movie's opening score, which seems to be one continuous crescendo, and Lime hollering abuse at them.

"What, you don't think we can take him?"

"I don't want to take him."

"But I want to watch the movie," Daiki says, but Kise jabs him viciously in the side before standing and jostling Daiki out of his seat.

Daiki doesn't get to hear what Lime has planned after the curb-stomping because an onscreen explosion obliterates the rest of his sworn vendetta and then the door swings shut behind them, the silence dropping like a wall. Daiki takes Kise's wrist and hustles them down the hall and around the corner.

“There was still one clinging to his hair,” Kise says when they've made it to the relative safety of the lobby with its many eyewitnesses. He's obviously fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up. He coughs instead.

"You need to work on your aim," Daiki says, distracted.

The column in front of the concession stand is plated with mirrors. This is what they look like off the court. Come March, without their uniforms, they will be just this. Too tall for civilian life, like they've overgrown. Crumpled jeans on Daiki and the tail of Kise's belt peeking out from under his hoodie. Even just standing, they are unable to keep still, Kise swinging his arm absently, with Daiki's fingers still around his wrist, and Daiki's arm swings too. Kise's lips look rough, starting to get chapped again, and Daiki has absurd hat hair that's only made worse when he runs his other hand through it. They don't look like they could fit together. They don't look like they know any better.

"Throwing popcorn at punks doesn't count as basketball, right," says Daiki.

Kise beams at Daiki's reflection. “Aominecchi tried. Let's go back now.”

--

Daiki's grandma once told him about the specter of rain haunting her bones, making them ache, how she could look up at a beautiful, blue sky and know not to trust it. Kise is like that, is his own storm. Kise stretches, languorous, and Daiki's knuckles start to throb again; he's learned to read it like a premonition.

Kise ruins everything. It's just what he does. He's as good at it as he is at everything else.

"You don't need to go to university to become a police officer," Kise says. He's lying on his front, phone retrieved, taking up most of the bed and scrolling through the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department website. "They have an exam for high school graduates. You'll just have to go through extra training."

Daiki covers his face with the pillow. "Do we have to talk about this now," he groans.

"Aominecchi should think about it. I'll come see you in your police box all the time."

"Liar," says Daiki, muffled. "You won't be here."

"I'll visit."

"Don't treat me like a child."

"Maybe if Aominecchi stops acting like one. I said I'll visit, so I will." Measured and slow, but electric now too.

They fight like this all the time, explosive in a way that's contained, so that it reverberates inside them for days. Too large not to get in each other's way and too stubborn and selfish to cede ground.

Kise should have said no to him and stayed home yesterday. Daiki shouldn't have been so stupid. It's been a long time since Teikou but what's he meant to do with all those years if Kise's just going to leave and not tell Daiki where he's going, trying to go where he can't be found.

"You know what, why don't you just punch me in the face already so I know to stop trying." Something to tell him to give up instead of letting Kise have first shower, filling Kise's bowl at lunch, paying for a movie they didn't even get to watch, not playing basketball all day.

"Aominecchi is not listening."

"Forget it." Daiki throws the pillow at the light switch. "Sleep."

Daiki refuses to open his eyes to see the expression on Kise's face. Kise doesn't move for a long while, but when he finally does, the relief blooms quick and expansive through Daiki's throat.

The basketball court has long been too small to hold them both, but Daiki’s bed has always been just big enough, even if he’s shoved against the wall and Kise’s at risk of tumbling right off. But in the past year they've done this enough to know how to fit their still stretching limbs together without knocking out any teeth or boxing any ears or kneeing each other in the groin.

“You’re definitely going to snore and keep me up all night,” Kise whispers, after they've successfully negotiated space.

It's a new moon tonight and there are never stars this close to the city. Through the blinds, the light from the street lamp outside Daiki's window flickers every few minutes. Kise smells like toothpaste and nothing else.

“You snore too," he says, so that Kise will look at him.

“I do not!” Kise squawks. He coughs and it shakes the whole bed.

“Uh huh,” says Daiki before the silence resettles.

"Aominecchi's too warm, it's so uncomfortable. Go sleep on the couch."

"Go to hell, Kise."

"Mean."

Fingers curl around the hem of Daiki's shirt and Daiki falls asleep listening to the creak of Kise's eyelids as Kise blinks up at the ceiling. In the morning, Kise has a shoot. He will be gone before Daiki wakes.

--

Spring comes anyway.

It's chillier than the last; Daiki remembers because this time last year, Kaijou had won their first Winter Cup against Shuutoku with Kise benched in the fourth quarter, his leg finally giving out after Rakuzan had run him into the ground the day before, and for months after, because it was already warm enough, Kise would take his free weekends at Daiki's street court in Daiki's t-shirts and do nothing but watch Daiki shoot hoops. Daiki had thought Kise was going to cry for not making the winning basket or something, but at 00:00, Kise had never looked so content in his life.

Satsuki's still wearing her cardigan under her blazer at their graduation ceremony and has to keep holding her skirt down to keep it from flying up every time a remnant of winter wind snakes through Touou's courtyard. Ryou's just finished prostrating himself for burdening Daiki with a farewell/congratulatory/apology bento the size of Daiki's head when Satsuki nudges him and tells him his phone is buzzing in his bag.

"Oh, Aominecchi. I'm surprised. You never pick up."

Daiki shrugs and trusts Kise to hear the gesture somehow.

"Congratulations," Kise prompts dutifully.

"Yeah, congratulations," Daiki parrots. "Have all your buttons been torn off by girls yet?"

"Aominecchi thinks highly of me."

“Yeah, well." He clears his throat. "Forget them and go out with me."

“No." Kise laughs right into Daiki's ear. "If I had a girlfriend like you, I'd go broke just trying to keep you from going hungry!"

It's been months since he's seen Kise. Daiki grins despite himself.

"I'm going to have a going away party," Kise says, smiling volumes. "Well, a get-together. Sometime next month. I'll mail you the details. I haven't told everyone yet, that I'm leaving. Do you think they'll be angry? Well, I'm sure Akashicchi already knows, and he's the scariest, so it'll probably be ok. If you're listening right now, I'm sorry, Akashicchi." There is a pause in which Daiki can only assume Kise is bowing to Akashi's omnipresence. "Anyway, you should come tell me how much you'll miss me. And you should buy me something nice."

"You never told me where you're going."

"That's because I want you to keep looking for me, obviously."

Obviously. Daiki feels the shift, their standstill crumbling to an end, all in the way Kise says "you," how Kise sounds closer than he had in months, reaching across salted earth to offer a hand.

"If the get-together's not the day before my police exam, I'll come."

"Oh," says Kise.

"What?"

"No. Nothing. That's good that you're taking it. Really."

Kise pauses, holds his breath. Daiki waits for the exhale. It comes in a rush.

"You know, Aominecchi, I was really conflicted! I thought about staying. I thought maybe I wanted to stay. Those last two days I spent with you I was looking for a reason and when you didn't have one to give me, I was so angry. That was unfair, and I'm sorry. But even today, I still can't think of a single reason why I should stay. Not for Kurokocchi or my Kaijou juniors, not even to see you become a police officer. Are you mad?"

"No," and it's the truth. In the months living with Kise's absence and grappling with his own pride that kept him from reaching out, Daiki had taken the fact that Kise was no longer going to follow, and sanded it down until it was dull and bruising instead of cutting sharp, until it was small enough to contend with and live with and finally make routine as his own name.

Behind him, Satsuki is trying unsuccessfully to get the underclassmen on the team to stop weeping. Promises them Daiki will be back to yell at them all the time, and she will too, if she can find time between classes at Todai and smashing glass ceilings. "Don't leave us," they wail anyway.

"I was a little bit ashamed," Kise admits softly, and Daiki has to cover his other ear to hear him properly. "Because everyone knows I don't care too much about modelling. Except Midorimacchi, who thinks I really get off on seeing my face in magazine spreads or something--"

"Don't you?"

"All right, a little," Kise concedes. "But going abroad for something I don't really care about, that makes me seem aimless-- or like not a serious person. Right? That's not good. I don't know. I don't know why I won't just stay."

"Go," Daiki tells him. "When you get bored of modelling, go find something else you've never done that you also happen to be infuriatingly good at and do that for a while. You can do whatever you want, asshole. It's going to be fine. What else do you want me to say?"

"Are you really ok with not going pro?"

"I'll play whenever I want. Don't worry, I'm still going to beat you every time."

Kise goes quiet, and Daiki can hear the echo of distant conversation on Kise's end. He imagines Kise slumped over a desk in an empty classroom, his phone pressed hot to his ear, his too long legs stretched out, feet hooked on the legs of the chair in front of him. He'll be wearing his outdoor shoes because he has a face that'll let him get away with anything and no overbearing senpai around to scold him anymore.

Then Kise is saying, "I know why I'll come back," and he sounds like he hit upon a revelation, and Daiki groans, "Ok, don't make a big thing out of it," and Kise laughs again, says, bright and boundless, the way Daiki knows him best, "See you soon, Aominecchi."

#knbfic #aokise #aomine daiki #kise ryouta #it's not christmas where you are anymore #i'm sorry #more gift fics to come #which i will also probably be sorry for #ayyyyeee

[american-nidiot]

There Name Is Ruka (testing)

Their Name Is RUKA 1: Squeaking sound of sneakers attracted the attention of a singular person; one foreign to the grounds of Seirin, as they followed the sounds to a gym filled with about 19 teenage men and one lone female who was shouting instructions at them all. The stranger politely coughed into their fist, dragging the female's honeyed gaze over to them. “What can I help you with?” Questioned the young woman, turning to face their guest. The person in question bowed slightly at the waist. “Sorry for intruding, but I heard I could find a Kuroko Tetsuya here…” “Kuroko?” Their conversation gained the attention of the boys, mainly the smallest – and most overlooked – member of them all. The stranger, a short thing that could only be 160 centimeters at max, pulled out an envolope from their pocket and handed it over. “His home room teacher was supposed to give him a note to tell him, and those in his club, that he will be with me after school.” Opening the envolope, the young woman read through the perfessional letter, before looking back up at their guest. “The money made would go to our club budget?” She questioned, getting a simple nod in response. “Forty-five percent of the sales, to be exact,” the stranger answered in a low voice, allowing their stormy gray orbs to glide over each person standing on the courts, their practice coming to a standstill after they started eavesdropping on their conversation. A shrill tweeting sounded moments later, startling the basketball team. “What are all of you gawking at?! Get back to work, otherwise I’ll triple your training!” Shouted their coach. For someone still in their teens, the young female seem to have a better grasp on what to do than most adults. “You do know this is cutting into his training, right?” The shorter of the two nodded again. “I’m aware, however your school’s principal agreed, and I am merely doing what the agency told me to. The decision is out of our hands…” “Fine, let me go—” The young coach cut herself off when she turned, letting out a strangled scream as she came face-to-face with the Phantom Regular. His face was apathetic to the untrained eye, however their guest caught a glimmer of plausible amusement dancing in his cerulean jewels. “Yes, coach?” Even his voice gave way to no emotion, matching that near-emotionless façade of his. The young man was short, mainly when compared to the other players, and had short spiky baby blue hair that mostly laid flat, this bangs just falling right above his eyebrows, and had fair skin that would make any woman jealous.

#posting via app #kurobasu #kuroko no basuke #knbfic #knb #fanfiction #there name is ruka #long text #text #ruka #kuroko #kuroko tetsuya #seirin #feedback please

[theotakulifechoseme]

(Sneak peek) Their Name Is RUKA

Their name is RUKA 1: Squeaking sound of sneakers attracted the attention of a singular person; one foreign to the grounds of Seirin, as they followed the sounds to a gym filled with about 19 teenage men and one lone female who was shouting instructions at them all. The stranger politely coughed into their fist, dragging the female's honeyed gaze over to them. “What can I help you with?” Questioned the young woman, turning to face their guest. The person in question bowed slightly at the waist. “Sorry for intruding, but I heard I could find a Kuroko Tetsuya here…” “Kuroko?” Their conversation gained the attention of the boys, mainly the smallest – and most overlooked – member of them all. The stranger, a short thing that could only be 160 centimeters at max, pulled out an envolope from their pocket and handed it over. “His home room teacher was supposed to give him a note to tell him, and those in his club, that he will be with me after school.”

#knbfic #theoutakulifechoseme rambles #knb fic #fanfiction #fanfic #nonbinary oc #knb #kuroko no basuke #kurobasu #kuroko #kuroko tetsuya #sneak peek #their name is ruka #ruka

[solfics]

coffee works.

hi there! welcome to coffee works.

나에 대해, — sol, she/her, 21 PH. — aries sun — ISTJ — eng-filo.

LIKES, — rnb hiphop + casual krnb/hiphop listener, pop, opm — i enjoy movies and series (a lot) — kdramas too <3 — f1 — kpop (riize nct) — anime manga (knb hk mha jjk + shojo) — aomine, taiga, midorima have my heart really. COFFEE WORKS, — this blog will be a writing account mainly for kuroko no basket characters, though i will write for others but it's really a knb centric acct. i will be posting and talking mostly in english and filipino, so the same goes for my content and works. — my works and writing skills are focused on romance, drama, slice of life genres. sometimes angst (hehe). — my works can also be NSFW so i don't encourage minors interacting with my future works labeled nsfw (also, most of my reblogs are 18+ so... please leave the blog). — i will really shitpost and sob about my faves (this can be kpop and anime related content rlly).

솔의 작품 (sol's works), → kagami taiga asking you out on a date.

#solfics #navigation #knb #kuroko no basket #gom #knbfics #generation of miracles #aomine daiki #kagami taiga #midorima shintarou #akashi seijuro #ryota kise #murasakibara atsushi #kuroko tetsuya #seirin

[bubziles]

chapter one of the aokise au

click here to see the first part !

#aokise #aomine x kise #kise ryota #aomine daiki #knb #gom #akashi #midorima #aomine #kuroko #kagami #murasakibara #kise #knbfic #aokise au

[ellayuki]

19.09.’17

kuroko no basket, kuroko pov

kagami receives a phone call from alex, and kuroko tries to be supportive (even when he hates the idea of kagami leaving)

a/n: spoilers for the last game movie. the movie kind of killed me.

~

something like a vice squeezes tightly around his lungs, around his throat, and his heart stutters, sputters, in his chest, painful. kagami’s voice suddenly sounds faraway, and for a second tetsuya feels like he’s being dragged deep under water.

america… kagami-kun might  be moving to america…

he closes his eyes, takes a breath, holds it in.

when he looks back at kagami, he looks troubled, but underneath that, tetsuya sees the bubbling excitement at the prospect of reaching such a high level as the nba. tetsuya can’t begrudge him that.

so he smiles, taps him on the shoulder, tells him that’s great news.

‘but leaving means…’ kagami starts, troubled frown still marring his features, even as his shoulders seem to relax a fraction.

‘leaving,’ tetsuya starts, because as always, he has to be kagami’s voice of reason, even when the words are thorns up his throat and on his tongue, ‘just means you’ll take advantage of an amazing opportunity, kagami-kun.’

kagami looks at the ground as they walk, a pensive hum escaping him, but doesn’t say anything else for a while. just before they reach the school gates, his step falters, slows. stops.

tetsuya stops a few steps ahead, turns to look at him, heart still pounding in his ears.

‘kagami-kun?’ he asks.

‘hey, kuroko…’ kagami says, hesitant, ‘what do you think i should do? do you really think i should go?’ he’s still looking at the ground.

tetsuya swallows past the lump in his throat. ‘i think that that’s kagami-kun’s decision alone. like i said, it’s an amazing opportunity, and you should think about it carefully, but that, ultimately, it’s a matter of whether you want to do it or not.’

‘kuroko…’

‘and if your hesitating because of the team, then quite frankly, you’re an idiot.’

‘hey!’ comes the indignant protest which forces a tiny, rueful smile from tetsuya. the tense atmosphere around them breaks.

‘you still have a few days to decide, right?’ he asks, and kagami just nods. ‘then think about what you want, and when you decide, tell me. i’m sure he others will support you in this, kagami-kun, so you don’t have to worry about them. if you do decide to go, i’ll be there for you when you tell them, if you need.’

kagami looks at him, an indecipherable look in his eyes that does something weird to tetsuya’s insides, and tetsuya squares his shoulders and meets the gaze head-on. then, after a long moment, kagami sighs. shakes his head.

‘thanks, kuroko,’ he says.

‘you’re welcome,’ kuroko answers simply, pushes down the knot that still clogs throat. then, just as the bells ring, he says, ‘now lets go before we’re late for class,’ and turns away from kagami.

kagami-kun’s leaving for america, he thinks, and just to himself, he’ll admit that the idea hurts.

#Kuroko no Basuke #KNB #KnB Spoilers #Last Game #KagaKuro #by moi #Fic #My Fic #EllaTriesToWriteDaily #KNBFic

[senpaiakihito]

oh man i need hELP i dont know if theres a specific place im supposed to go for this but i read a fic a few weeks ago that i absolutely loved but i didnt have an ao3 account at the time so i couldnt fave it or anything but now im trying to find it again and i cant

basically kuroko makes aomine think hes been cheating on him with kagami for two years because he doesnt want to make him feel guilty for seriously injuring him

it was part one of a set but the others hadnt been posted at the time

does anyone know what its called? ;~:

#knb #archive of our own #knbfic #ao3

[preciousghoul-blog]

Aokuro Fanfic

Title: Aomine-kun...(?)

Pairing: Aokuro

Synopsis: Aomine and Kuroko have been going out since forever, so why is Kuroko still calling Aomine "Aomine-kun"? "It gets on my nerves, so... Just call me Daiki!"

"Aomine-kun!"

Aomine's eyebrow twitched. The 23rd time, he thought to himself, much annoyed by the source of the voice aka Kuroko.

"Aomine-kun? Are you alright? Aomine-kunnnnn?"

24th... 25th... AURGH! 

"I'm fine," Aomine snapped, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his Touou uniform. "Let's go." Not even trying to hide his irritation, he walked briskly ahead of Kuroko in the direction of Maji Burger.

--

"Aomine-kun, are you listening to me?"

"..................." Aomine took a long, unbecoming loud slurp of his vanilla shake (he was forced to buy it by Kuroko) and slammed it on the table with a frown.

"Tetsu, stop that."

"...Stop what?" Kuroko tilted his head, his vanilla shake tilting along with it.

"You know, that," Aomine scratched his head as he tried to get his point across. He was never good with this kind of thing.

"I don't understand what you mean," Kuroko answered, a frown of his own forming between his eyebrows.

"~~~ Stop calling me Aomine-kun, Aomine-kun! It's annoying!" 

"...Hah? Then, what should I call you?"

Jesus! How dumb can this guy get?! "We're lovers, aren't we?! I've been calling you Tetsu since forever, so wacha think you should be calling me?!"

Kuroko took a few moments to think, settling his vanilla shake on the table and looking deep in thought with his downcast eyes and folded arms. Suddenly, he knocked a fist against his palm.

"Oh! I get it."

Aomine sighed in relief. "You do?"

"...Daiki..."

Aomine's heart skipped a beat.

"...-kun?"

"Don't add the -kun!" Aomine groaned, the moment ruined.

"That's impossible. I'd rather call you Aomine-kun."

"...Do as you like."

(These two idiots still have a long way to go...~)

#aokuro #aokurofic #knbfic #myfanfic #text #gosh its been so long since i write a knbfic