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“Kagami-kun is coming over for the weekend. Please don’t embarrass me,” Kuroko says shortly, then tries to disappear into the abyss.
His mother's head pops around the doorway, stopping any chance of that happening. “Kagami-kun? Like, Kagami-kun from the basketball team?”
Kuroko feels his own ears turn red, but he valiantly maintains his composure as he pauses on the stairwell. “Yes. He was supposed to catch a flight to LA, but it was canceled due to the snow.”
“So he’s staying with us?”
“Yes.”
“For a weekend?”
“Yes. I figured he’d be lonely spending the winter break alone in his apartment.”
“Tetsuya! Why didn't you tell me earlier?” His mother sounds affronted. “What should I cook? He's probably not used to Japanese food, is he? Does he have any allergies?” She gives him a pointed look – one he's seen directed at his father before for not having enough useful information.
“It's just for the weekend,” Kuroko repeats, almost petulant. “And he'll eat anything; he's big.”
Tetsuya's mother sets a hand on her hip and sighs. “And what was that you said earlier on your way up?”
Kuroko is careful to use polite speech. “I requested Mother not to embarrass me.”
Predictably, this does not go well with his mother, but before she can say anything, his grandmother's head pops around the doorway too.
“Embarrass you about what? Who's coming?” Her eyes twinkle hopefully, teasingly. “Is it a girl?”
“It's a boy,” Kuroko's mother replies, and his grandmother’s mouth falls open with a soft, ‘O.’
“It's a classmate,” Kuroko interjects flatly, ears still burning. “And it's not like that.”
At least, he's 90% sure it's not like that on Kagami's end, since he's pretty confident Kagami only ever thinks about basketball and food. The other 10% is reserved for moments on the court, when their fists bump, or off it, when Kagami's hand runs through his hair or his arm slings around Kuroko's shoulders and pulls him in, or when Izuki-senpai makes a bad joke and he cranes his neck at an absurd angle to catch Kuroko's reaction over his shoulder. He's always looking for Kuroko, searching for meaning in Kuroko's face. It's a little unnerving. Sometimes Kuroko wants to hide. Sometimes he wants Kagami to look at him forever. Sometimes he wants Kagami, that much is obvious, but it's not something he'll ever let slip, so.
“If it's not like that then why are you all worked up?” Grandma asks. “And don't say that to your mother, it's hurtful.”
“Besides, I think a mother has a right to get to know the boy her son has been hanging around for a whole year, right?”
His mother is mostly teasing, he can tell, but he sighs anyway.
“Saturday afternoon,” he reminds them both, then disappears before either of them can ask anything more about it.
_
Kagami, on his part, is nervous.
The inclement weather had played hell with his plans to visit LA (a matter which he’d constantly grumbled about as he tried to refresh the airline’s homepage to rebook his flight. In the end he’d given up, defeated by the Christmastime rush, his gifts for Alex and his dad sitting forlornly in the corner).
Kuroko had put up with his complaining for about forty-five minutes before eventually taking pity on him and saying, “Kagami-kun can spend the weekend at my house.”
“Just the weekend?”
“Don’t be greedy,” Kuroko had reprimanded, in that same, mild tone. “This should count us even for all the times you’ve hosted me before.”
“Huh.”
“And after that you can host me again for the rest of the break.”
“Like I’d do that dumbass!” Kagami roared, but Kuroko’s mouth was twitching and they both knew Kagami would rather have Kuroko over than weather the lonely winter break alone.
Privately, Kagami is curious to see Kuroko around his family. For most of their first year, things were such a blur that he never really got to see Kuroko within any other context other than basketball. Kuroko comes over to his house all the time, and with him he often brings a book he likes to read, but that covers the extent to which Kuroko has integrated him into his life. Kagami hadn’t even considered that Kuroko had a house or a family—which is stupid because he’s got to go like, somewhere after school, right?
Despite his burning curiosity, Kagami is anxious. Kuroko is always so formal, so polite (even when he’s being a little shit) that Kagami is sure his family is super traditional too. The entire walk to Kuroko’s house, he keeps fidgeting with his hands, with his hair, with his necklace. By the time he’s on Kuroko’s street, he’s sweaty. All the houses in the neighborhood are pristine and gray, with neat little lawns spread out in front of them. He’s not even fully inside the community and he’s already afraid of fucking up somehow.
He pulls out his phone once to confirm if he’s in the right area and slips it back into his pocket. Kuroko’s house — #12 — has a dark gray roof and a cozy little front door with a kitten-shaped knocker on it, which, Kagami thinks, has got to be some kind of betrayal to Nigou right?
He lifts the knocker and slams it against the door twice, hoping he was gentle enough.
There are a few split seconds where Kagami just stands around shuffling his duffle bag that he packed for the weekend, and then the door springs open to…nothing.
His heart nearly stops for a second but his gaze drops and there’s a young woman in a long dress, staring up at him. Her doe-ish blue eyes blink in awe, and then her face breaks out into a knowing smile that both reminds him and doesn’t remind him of Kuroko. “Ah, you must be Kagami-kun! Please come in.”
Kagami belatedly realizes as he steps in that she’s probably Kuroko’s mom.
“Kagami-kun, you’re late.” Kagami turns over his shoulder to see Kuroko standing by his elbow and nearly jumps. That hasn’t happened in a while, but Kagami was too busy gaping at Kuroko’s mom to register him. Kuroko, of course, looks amused. He’s wearing a sweater vest and shorts of all things, decidedly cozy.
Kagami has a vague feeling that he’s forgetting something.
“Sorry, there was some kind of rush on the train,” he mumbles sheepishly, eyes drifting to the old lady standing by Kuroko’s mom. Her back is unbelievably hunched, but her eyes are kind, curious, almost closed with how small they are.
“Sorry for the intrusion!” Kagami blurts, bowing deep right in the genkan of Kuroko’s house.
A chorus of soft laughter floats across the room that makes Kagami’s cheeks burn, and he straightens up again.
“My, how polite,” Kuroko’s mom says sweetly.
“And tall,” Kuroko’s grandmom adds, a hint of marvel in her voice. “You probably have a good appetite now, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kagami replies, a little endeared by the pointed look she shoots in Kuroko’s direction. Kuroko huffs.
“Well, why don’t you take off your shoes and come in?” Kuroko’s mom suggests. “We usually do that here in Japan.”
“I know that!” Kagami says quickly, sliding his shoes off without undoing the laces. “I’m Japanese! I mean—I was born here.”
“My apologies, Kagami-kun.” Kuroko’s eyes are twinkling. “I might have told my family you’re a crass American with no manners, so you’ll have to forgive them for making a few assumptions.”
“You—!” Kagami almost lunges but remembers his present company and holds back. He wants to grab Kuroko and maybe twist him around a little bit, but he’s not sure how Kuroko’s family will take that.
“Tetsuya,” his grandmother chides, gentle but grounding.
Kuroko subsides obediently. Kagami is almost amazed by that as he follows the group in.
The Kurokos live in a decent-sized house — not large, but enough to fit a family of four. With the blinds open, everything is bright and simple and minimalistic, a potted plant here, a solid-colored rug there. The furniture is small, way smaller than it would be in the States, which is something Kagami wants to tease Kuroko about but he’s a little distracted by this new environment, by Kuroko in this new environment. Everything is so quiet and quaint, but there’s an air of hospitality here that makes Kagami feel a little abashed—shy, even.
“It’s a little early for dinner, so why don’t you go show Kagami-kun where to set down his things?” Kuroko’s mother suggests. She looks so much like Kuroko, but her face is a little softer, like all his edges have been blurred on her. Kagami only half-listens as he tries to take it all in.
“Okay.”
“Did you tidy everything up there?” his grandma asks, and Kuroko honest-to-god whines when he says, “Grandma.”
Forget amazed, Kagami is amused. He follows Kuroko up the stairs to a little bedroom, barely noticing when Kuroko shuts the door behind them. Nigou, who was dozing on the bed all this while, gives a happy little yip when he spots Kagami. Kagami jumps, and so does his heartbeat, but that’s usual fare for them.
Kuroko’s room is just about as quaint as the rest of the house. There’s a study desk in one corner and a little book shelf in another. The Generation of Miracles stand out to him instantly, their carefree smiles preserved behind a glassy cabinet. Seirin’s there too, with Kuroko’s medal lazily hanging over one corner of the frame. A faded poster of MJ in a Bulls jersey slamming in the perfect dunk emerges from behind the bookshelf. It’s got a ‘Happy birthday Tetsu!’ scrawled hastily onto one corner in shabby handwriting — a trademark that could only belong to one person Kagami knows all too well.
“Woah, your room is tiny,” he remarks, taking it all in.
“We can’t all be obscenely wealthy, Kagami-kun.”
“Hey!” Kagami says, offended.
Kuroko pays him no mind as he fluffs up a pillow. “You can leave your bag by my desk.”
“Where are we gonna sleep?” Kagami asks, glancing around the room to try and draw up an estimate of all the space.
“Kagami-kun, you’re really hurting my feelings by repeatedly pointing out how small my house is,” Kuroko points out.
“That’s not it!” Kagami’s eyes take the bed in and he flushes despite himself. “I mean—you’ve only got one bed in here.” At his house, he usually lets Kuroko take the guest bedroom when Alex is gone, but he kind of assumed they’d be sharing here. He doesn’t think the Kurokos have a guest room.
“You can take the bed, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko says. “I have a futon.”
“But you’d still be sleeping here, right?”
Kuroko gives him a strange look. “I suppose.”
Something about that makes his stomach feel funny, but a bigger concern makes itself home as he watches Kuroko gently push Nigou aside to pull out a blanket from under him.
“Hey! Does that mean he’s going to be sleeping here, too?!”
Kuroko feigns a look of absolute innocence and hurt and betrayal that Kagami just doesn’t buy as he says, “Of course, Kagami-kun. What kind of a cruel person would turn him away at night? That’s lonely.”
Kagami groans. He really isn’t looking forward to tonight.
-
There’s nothing to do in this kind of weather, so Kagami and Kuroko end up at the dinner table while Kuroko’s mother and grandmother flutter around and set various cutlery down on the table. Kuroko’s dad works at some kind of company, so it’s just the four of them and Nigou, who nips at Kuroko’s mom’s ankles in hopes of conning his way into some food.
“Nigou,” she scolds, when she nearly trips over him for the fourth time. Kagami is honestly surprised it took her this long, and even then, her rebuke is gentle more than anything else.
“He does that at my house too!” Kagami blurts, forgetting all propriety to glare at the dog.
“He’s hungry,” Kuroko defends.
“You just fed him dinner an hour ago!”
“Dogs are like that,” Kuroko’s mom laughs, calling out from the kitchen, “You don’t like them, Kagami-kun?”
“Ah, I mean.” Kagami scratches his head sheepishly, conscious of the weight of Kuroko’s piercing gaze on him. “Nigou’s alright, I guess, but one bit me back in California so I’m a little uh—scared of ‘em. Ma’am.”
“I was surprised that Tetsuya brought one home.” Kuroko’s grandmother wanders in, slow and trembling as she approaches the dinner table. One wrinkled hand reaches for a chair, but Kagami surges out and draws it back for her.
“Thank you, dear.” She spares him a smile as she slowly sinks into the chair with a weary sigh. For some reason, Kagami feels more conscious around her than Kuroko’s mom—some instinct within him urging him to sit a little straighter, to be a little more polite and respectable. Kuroko’s grandmother has an air of dignity, even though she seems a gazillion years old. There’s a strength to her that he intuitively recognizes; of course he does. He’s seen it in Kuroko. He sees it all the time in Kuroko.
“We used to have cats, you know,” she tells Kagami, like she’s telling a secret, and his brows lift a little. That explains the door knocker, at least.
He’s startled when he feels a touch against the double strands of his eyebrows. “What are these? Is this the new trend in high school these days?” She laughs a little wheezily.
“Be careful with those, Grandma. They’re Kagami-kun’s most distinctive features,” Kuroko remarks, and Kagami would flip him off if his face wasn’t burning with embarrassment at how amused the two Kurokos look.
“Shut up! They’re genetic!” Kagami barks at Kuroko. Then, a little apologetically at his grandmother, “Ma’am.”
Kuroko’s grandmother laughs. Kuroko’s mother re-enters the room with a big bowl of something that instantly makes Kagami’s stomach growl.
“Who takes care of your food for you, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko’s mother asks as she sets it down delicately against a coaster. It’s curry for the rice.
“Ah, I cook for myself most of the time,” he replies, a little distracted by the aroma that wafts up at him.
Both women look up at him, amazed. “You cook?” they ask in unison.
Kagami flushes. “Yeah. Just, like. Gyoza and stuff. Whatever I can store and eat for days at a stretch.”
“But how do you balance all of that with school and practice?” Kuroko’s mother wonders.
Kagami shrugs, a little unsure of what to say to that. He just does.
“What about your parents?” she adds.
“My dad was supposed to come, but he got assigned some kind of project and had to stay back in LA,” Kagami explains.
“...And…your mother?”
“Oh. My parents are divorced,” Kagami says simply. “I’ve never really met my mom; it’s just been me and my dad for as long as I can remember.”
Kuroko’s mother’s and grandmother’s eyes soften. Even Kuroko, from across the table, is looking at him with some kind of mix between surprise and tenderness. He hasn’t told Kuroko this before, but it’s really not that big of a deal. Kagami doesn’t know why the room gets quiet like that, but it does, and he raises a brow at Kuroko as if to ask.
Kuroko shakes his head.
“You must be very smart, then, for being able to juggle all of that,” Kuroko’s mom says eventually, her tone a touch more delicate than it was a moment ago.
“Kagami-kun has atrocious grades, Mother,” Kuroko pipes up, and Kagami reaches across the table to kick his ankle subtly. For some reason, he doesn’t want to seem like an idiot in front of Kuroko’s family—especially in front of his grandmother—but it works, because the energy in the room is back and Kagami feels comfortable again. Kuroko’s ankle settles against his. Kagami doesn’t try to move it.
“Don’t be rude,” Kuroko’s mother cuffs him on the head gently. Kagami has to fight a giddy little thrill at the incredulous look on Kuroko’s face. So rarely has he been around people who can catch Kuroko off guard that he’s still a little amazed by it. He’s never had people pick his side over Kuroko’s before and he’s really kind of loving this.
Suddenly, the door rings and Kuroko’s mother gets up to answer it.
“That must be your father,” Kuroko’s grandmother remarks, glancing at the clock. “Sheesh, they’re keeping him later and later these days, huh?”
“It’s a shame,” Kuroko agrees. “The food will get cold.”
Kagami doesn't know what he was expecting, but a short, black-haired man with thick glasses steps through the doorway — not resembling Kuroko at all, except for his unremarkability. Somehow, Kagami had thought both Kuroko's parents would look like him, but it's clear that very little of the man's features made the final cut.
“Uh.” Kagami clears his throat.
Kuroko's dad stares at him, a little puzzled.
“Kagami-kun is staying with us for the weekend,” Kuroko's mom cheers from behind him.
“Ah. From…Teiko?”
The reaction across the room is instantaneous. Kuroko’s grandmother gives him a disapproving look, while Kuroko’s mom gently whispers, “We don’t use the ‘T’ word around here.”
Kagami’s brows lift at that. He knows Teiko wasn’t an easy time for Kuroko, but to see his parents react like that makes him wonder how many days Kuroko came home sad and glum, determined to quit basketball for good. He hates seeing Kuroko like that, and if he hates it, he suspects Kuroko’s parents probably hated it too.
“Mother, it’s okay, I’m over that now,” Kuroko insists, shaking his head. “And Father, Kagami-kun is my new friend from Seirin.”
Kuroko’s dad relaxes a little, relieved, and he greets Kagami with a formal hello before excusing himself to wash up for dinner. Kagami turns Kuroko’s words over in his head. New friend. It’s almost strange to hear about himself in those terms. Everything between him and Kuroko has been so intense so far — light, partner — that he’s a little disoriented by the dialed-back context. He and Kuroko are friends, sure, but sometimes it feels like so much more than that. Sometimes Kuroko looks at him and it’s like everything changes. Every chaos rights itself again, like they’re meant to be together.
Kagami flushes because wow, that’s absurd.
Kuroko raises his brows at Kagami, but he doesn’t have time to ask because Kuroko’s father joins them and they begin dinner, ankles unlocking from where they’d been joined. Kuroko’s grandmother and mother did most of the cooking, and even though they’re all simple, traditional dishes, they have a relish to them that makes Kagami’s mouth water. Properly cooked mushrooms, carrots, ginger, soy sauce. He doesn’t want to be a grub, but he can’t help but make a little noise when the first spoonful of white rice and curry enters his mouth. It’s so fucking good.
Kuroko smiles at him.
“Ah, is the food alright, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko’s mother asks. “We know you’re probably not too used to Japanese cuisine but I figured a simple curry wouldn’t be too much.”
“It’s perfect!” Kagami blurts. “I mean it, Kuroko-san, it’s really good!”
“Then have some more,” Kuroko’s grandmother urges, and shoves some more rice onto his plate before he can even think about holding back for tact’s sake.
For the next hour or so, Kuroko’s mother and grandmother keep piling more food onto his plate, encouraged by his gusto and enthusiasm. They’re both clearly pleased he’s enjoying himself, even though Kuroko and his dad give him mildly horrified looks every time he takes another serving. It’s been a long time since he’s had a home-cooked meal he didn’t make himself, so yeah, he’s enjoying himself, but he’s also a little embarrassed about it, shaking his head even as Kuroko’s mom puts the last of the rice on his plate.
“Are you sure that’ll be enough for you, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko’s dad asks when the bowl empties, and Kagami’s just about to say, “yeah,” when he realizes that there’s something suspicious about that tone. He looks up and realizes Kuroko’s dad is being sarcastic, because of course Kuroko had to get it from somewhere. Across the table, there’s laughter in Kuroko’s eyes and Kagami’s face burns.
“Don’t listen to them,” Grandma scolds, patting Kagami’s hand good-naturedly. “It’s good to have an appetite. You’re a strong, healthy boy with the just right amount of stamina. In fact, you should learn from him, Tetsuya. You hardly eat anything.”
“I eat,” Kuroko protests, but Kagami interrupts him to say, “He doesn’t. I had to threaten to tell Coach when he refused to finish dinner during camp.”
Kuroko glares at him. “Kagami-kun is a tattletale.”
Kagami shrugs, giving Kuroko a shit-eating grin.
Somehow, over the course of dinner, though, Kagami realizes that all of Kuroko’s family is like that—not just his dad. They all talk in serious, mild tones, in rapid Japanese, and it takes Kagami a while to catch on that they’re not being formal and polite at all — they’re bantering. Kuroko’s grandmother is the most notorious, with her favorite victim being her grandson. It’s clear they’re close, that Kuroko likes her the most among all of his family members, and that her approval is important to him. Maybe even more important than his parents’ approval.
They’re nearly done with dinner when Kuroko’s mother tells a story about how Kuroko’s dad once drove halfway home before realizing he’d left her at the grocery store parking lot. From the way she’s telling it, it seems like they bring it up all the time, but Kuroko’s dad’s ears are red with appropriate embarrassment.
“I told you, you should have said something,” he says, probably for the millionth time. Kagami feels for the guy, he really does. He can’t count on one hand the number of times he used to lose Kuroko in the beginning.
His mom clucks her tongue. “I did. You didn’t hear me.”
“Ah, but your presence is so weak. Sometimes I think I’m talking to you and you just aren’t there.”
“Kagami-kun loses track of me all the time too,” Kuroko accuses.
“Who’s the tattletale now,” Kagami snaps, even though he’d just been thinking the same thing. “Besides, I’ve gotten better at that.”
“Really?” Kuroko’s mom remarks, amused. “It took this guy at least a year.”
Well, Kuroko’s parents don’t really have experience feeling each other out on the court, but Kagami doesn’t say that.
“On the first day of kindergarten, we had to stick a flashy sticker on Tetsuya's uniform because we were so afraid his teacher wouldn’t notice him,” Kuroko’s mom explains. “I even pulled the teacher aside to explain the situation, though he did well enough for himself eventually, didn't he? Our Tetsuya.”
“He does that,” Kagami says, grinning at the flush that colors Kuroko’s cheeks. He likes to play it cool, but that facade fades with each day they spend together and Kagami loves it. Loves being able to draw that out of him. He’s so much more present when they’re together, so much more there, palpable.
At the end of dinner, they all help clean up, and Kagami sighs heavily when he approaches the sink. “I really should take that recipe from you some time,” he tells Kuroko’s mom. “The curry, I mean.”
Kuroko’s mother smiles and pats his shoulder gently. “I’d be more than happy to make it for you again, Kagami-kun. I figure we owe you, given how often Tetsuya mooches off your kindness.”
“I do not mooch,” Kuroko says haughtily, while Kagami laughs.
“Regardless,” Kuroko’s mom replies pointedly. “Kagami-kun should know he’s welcome here anytime.” She looks up at Kagami and smiles like Kuroko does on a good day, like Kuroko’s been doing so often these days when they’re together.
Kagami grins back. That doesn’t sound bad to him at all.
-
Kuroko had been observing Kagami all through dinner.
If he’s being honest with himself, he was a little nervous about Kagami meeting his parents, not for what Kagami would think of them, but what they would think of Kagami. In the end, he hadn’t had a reason to be at all, since his mother had taken to Kagami instantly and his grandmother all but adored him. His father’s harder to read but easily bullied either way by the two women.
When Kuroko comes out of the bathroom, Kagami is lying down on his head with both hands locked under him, in the tank top he usually wears to bed. His eyes flick to Kuroko and Kuroko’s heart jumps, not just because Kagami is lazily sprawled over his bed but because Kagami is here, in his home, in the one place he feels sheltered from the outside world — the world that often made him feel small and forgotten. Inviting Kagami back here means something to him, means something to their partnership, which has evolved into something well beyond being number one in Japan or beating Kuroko’s former teammates.
“Leave the futon,” Kagami grumbles, snapping Kuroko out of his daze. “We can just share the bed.”
Kuroko valiantly ignores how hot his ears feel at that. “How generous of you, Kagami-kun.”
“Shut up. I just figured you’d be cold on the floor.”
Kuroko ducks his head to pick up his pillow, hiding a smile as he does it.
“I didn’t think your family would be like that,” Kagami begins after a while, eyes still fixed to the ceiling.
“Like what?” Kuroko asks.
“Like you.”
Kuroko doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just gets in on the other side until they’re right next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. “I didn’t know about Kagami-kun’s parents.” Then, a little resentful, “You should’ve told me.”
Kagami looks at him. “Why?” There’s no defensiveness in his tone; he’s genuine. Simple.
Kuroko swallows. Because I want to know everything about you, he thinks greedily. Because I care. “Because we’re partners.”
Kagami’s eyes hold his for a second and then he scoffs, but there’s a little smile playing on his lips as his gaze drifts away. “Figured you’d say that.” He lets the silence grow, then says, quietly, “I really don’t care about it, you know.”
Kuroko watches him silently, the shape of his nose, his jaw, the way his throat moves when he talks.
“I mean, I had basketball,” Kagami continues, mimicking a shot up towards the ceiling with his hands. “I had Tatsuya, and Alex.”
“And now…”
“And now,” Kagami continues, eyes drifting back to meet Kuroko’s uncertain gaze, his face splitting into a grin, “I have the guys. I have you.”
“And the Generation of Miracles,” Kuroko points out, unwilling to think about the distinction, the fact that Kagami set him apart from the rest of Seirin.
Kagami makes a face. “You just had to go and ruin the moment, didn’t you?”
Kuroko is thrilled, so he responds in the only way he knows how. “I’m sorry, Kagami-kun, I wasn’t aware we were having a moment.”
“You little shit!” Kagami lifts his pillow out from under him and pounces. Kuroko lets out a little ‘oof!’ and tries to squirm out from under the weight, but Kagami pins him back down with the pillow, roughhousing him like they do at practice except this time they’re on Kuroko’s bed and they both seem to realize it at once.
“Uh.” Kagami clears his throat and lifts off of him. “Sorry.” He quickly throws himself back onto the bed and turns his back to Kuroko, lifting the blanket up to his shoulders.
“Kagami-kun, you forgot about your pillow,” Kuroko says, staring at Kagami’s back, ignoring the way his heart is beating, fast and sure. Kagami reaches back for his pillow, but Kuroko grabs his wrist with both hands.
“Let go of me, asshole!” Kagami wiggles, but he’s snort-laughing and Kuroko is laughing too. Like this, it’s no different from training camp, and Kuroko eventually lets go to settle the pillow back under Kagami’s head.
“Maybe we can go play basketball tomorrow.” Kagami yawns, his back still turned to Kuroko. “If the snow clears.”
The snow will probably not clear, but more importantly, “Coach will kill us if she finds out we played in the cold.”
Kagami tsks. “What a pain, this Tokyo weather, huh.”
Kuroko hums in agreement, but deep down he’s glad Kagami is here, glad he got to keep him over the break, even as his eyes sleepily begin to pull closed.
“G’night, Kuroko,” Kagami calls out.
“Goodnight, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko murmurs back.
-
Sometime in the middle of the night, Kuroko wakes up to Kagami’s arm thrown carelessly over his face, unable to breathe. Nigou must have crawled in at some point too, because Kuroko spots a little lump of fur between their pillows.
Kuroko lifts Kagami’s arm off of his face gently, then moves to lift Nigou and drop him on Kagami’s chest. That’ll be a fun surprise in the morning, even if they look peaceful now, dozing together.
Even with the weather outside, it’s too hot to be sharing space with Kagami like this, so Kuroko tiptoes out of his bedroom and heads back downstairs. In the kitchen, his grandmother is getting herself a glass of water, the overhead light making a small halo on her gray head.
Kuroko simply goes up to her and settles by the counter beside her.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, after a few gulps.
Kuroko shakes his head. “Kagami-kun takes up too much space.”
His grandma chuckles.
Kuroko watches for a bit, then licks his lips a little nervously. “What did you think of him?”
His grandma gives him a knowing look that makes him flush. “He's very nice,” she says. “A bit clumsy…”
Kuroko laughs. “Yes.”
His grandma knocks him on the cheek fondly. “The important thing is that you like him.”
Kuroko is stunned. He stares at his grandmother, wondering if she—if she knows. If she's guessed.
“You want to win together, right?” His grandma continues. “It's important to get along when you're working towards the same goal”
Kuroko relaxes, but his face is still hot. “Yes.”
His grandmother smiles. In the quiet of his kitchen, he can hear every silent creak, every whir of the fan in other parts of the house, and it makes him want to tell the truth—makes him want to confess things he’s been keeping close to his chest.
Eventually, Kuroko wishes her a good night and heads back upstairs. It isn’t time for something like that, he reasons to himself. They’ve still got so much more to achieve, so much more to do, so many laughs to share. But maybe one day he'll tell her, after Kagami has been here many times, and praised her cooking a dozen more. Kuroko likes the thought of it.
When he comes back to his bedroom, Kagami is as he left him, snoring lighty, Nigou curled on his stomach. Tomorrow they’ll wake up early and check the driveway for snow. They might get a burger, and Kagami might snark at him to eat more. They might even head to the shoe store, or look for an indoor court somewhere to shake off their boredom. Whatever they do, Kuroko doesn’t really mind as long as they do it together.
For now, he simply slides back into bed and lets his dreams carry him where Kagami is—waiting for him, as always, with one hand stretched out behind him.