Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The proposal was made with the same seriousness as discussing exam schedules.

“…Will you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Kuroko Tetsuya looked up from the novel resting on his desk.

The classroom had emptied nearly twenty minutes ago, leaving only the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the distant echoes of basketballs from the gymnasium.

He blinked once.

“…Pardon?”

Across from him, Akashi Seijuro stood with his school bag resting neatly against one leg, his expression as composed as ever.

“I believe I was clear.”

“You were.”

Tetsuya closed his novel carefully before setting it aside.

“I’m simply trying to determine whether I misunderstood.”

“You didn’t.”

Silence settled between them.

“…You’re asking me,” Tetsuya said slowly, “to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“Correct.”

“…Why?”

Seijuro considered the question for a moment.

“My father.”

“…Akashi-sama?”

“Yes.”

“He wants you to date?”

“He wants me to marry.”

Tetsuya stared. “…We’re sixteen.”

“I’ve reminded him of that.”

“And?”

“He says proper planning begins early.”

“…I see.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“I’ve heard stories.”

Seijuro inclined his head slightly.

“They’re mostly true.”

Tetsuya thought about it.

The Akashi family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Japan. Rumors about arranged introductions and carefully selected partners had followed Seijuro since he entered Teikō High.

Most students assumed they were exaggerated.

Apparently…

They weren’t.

“My father has begun arranging meetings with the daughters and sons of business associates,” Seijuro continued evenly. “He expects me to attend every one.”

“…Do you?”

“I attend.”

“And?”

“I leave.”

“…Repeatedly?”

“Repeatedly.”

Tetsuya nodded.

“That does sound exhausting.”

“It is becoming inefficient.”

“So you’ve decided…”

“…That having a boyfriend would make further introductions considerably more difficult.”

Tetsuya couldn’t argue with the logic.

“…Why me?”

Seijuro answered almost immediately.

“Because I trust you.”

The response came so naturally that Kuroko wasn’t prepared for it.

“…I see.”

“You're discreet.”

A second reason.

“You don’t enjoy unnecessary attention.”

A third.

“And you would understand that this arrangement is mutually beneficial.”

Tetsuya tilted his head.

“…Mutually beneficial?”

Seijuro looked at him.

“Satsuki has introduced you to seven people this month.”

Tetsuya blinked.

“…You noticed.”

“I notice many things.”

Tetsuya sighed quietly. “She means well.”

“I’m aware.”

“Unfortunately, she seems convinced that because I haven’t dated anyone, I must simply not have met the right person.”

“…Has she?”

The bluenette nodded once.

"Yes."

“I’ve also observed Ryouta attempting to help.”

Tetsuya looked faintly horrified.

“…Please don’t remind me.”

Last week, Kise had somehow managed to invite four girls and two boys to what Tetsuya believed was a quiet trip to a café.

It had, in fact, been six separate blind dates happening simultaneously.

Tetsuya had escaped through the kitchen.

“…Daiki?” Seijuro asked.

“He told me I should ‘try flirting for once.’”

“Did you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Tetsuya almost smiled. “I didn’t think so either.”

Another comfortable silence settled between them.

“…So,” Tetsuya said at last, “your problem is your father.”

“Correct.”

“My problem is our friends.”

“Correct.”

“And your solution…”

“…Is to solve both simultaneously.”

Tetsuya rested his chin lightly against his hand.

“…Hypothetically.”

“Yes?”

“If I agreed…”

“What would be expected?”

Seijuro had apparently anticipated the question.

He reached into his school bag.

“…I’ve prepared a document.”

Tetsuya watched him produce several neatly stapled pages.

“…You’ve prepared…”

“…A contract.”

“…You wrote a contract.”

“Yes.”

Tetsuya accepted it.

The title read:

Mutual Relationship Agreement

He turned the page.

Clause One.

The relationship shall remain strictly performative unless both parties explicitly agree otherwise.

Clause Two.

Public displays of affection shall be limited to situations in which maintaining credibility requires them.

Clause Three.

Neither party shall intentionally embarrass the other.

Clause Four.

The agreement may be terminated by either party with two week’s notice.

Tetsuya turned another page.

“…You included an appendix.”

“I did.”

“…With contingency plans.”

“I find preparation useful.”

“…There’s a flowchart.”

“In case of unexpected questions.”

Tetsuya stared at the diagram.

If asked “Who confessed first?” proceed to Section C.

If asked “What’s your anniversary?” consult predetermined timeline.

If unexpectedly photographed holding hands, refer to Appendix B.

“…Akashi-kun.”

“Yes?”

“…You’ve thought about this for a concerning amount of time.”

“I began drafting it last Tuesday.”

“…It’s Friday.”

“I revised it twice.”

Tetsuya looked back down at the document.

It was absurd.

Completely absurd.

And somehow…

Perfectly in character.

“…Can I make revisions?”

“Of course.”

Tetsuya reached into his own bag and retrieved a pen.

He quietly added a new clause beneath the others.

Clause Eight: Neither party may schedule fake dates during exam week.

Seijuro read it.

“…Reasonable.”

Tetsuya continued.

Clause Nine: Basketball practice takes priority over all fabricated romantic obligations.

“…Agreed.”

One final addition.

Clause Ten: At least one real meal together every week.

Seijuro looked at him.

“…A real meal?”

“If we’re pretending to date, people will expect us to eat together.”

“…That's logical.”

“And you’ve skipped lunch twice this week.”

For the first time since the conversation began…

Seijuro looked mildly surprised.

“…You noticed.”

“I notice many things.”

A quiet smile appeared at the corners of Tetsuya’s mouth.

Seijuro looked at the contract once more.

Then extended his hand.

“…Do we have an agreement?”

Tetsuya looked at it.

Then shook it.

“…We do.”

A beat passed.

“Akashi-kun.”

Seijuro paused.

“Yes?”

“If someone asks…”

Tetsuya glanced down at the contract.

“…would we have to say ‘I love you’?”

Seijuro considered the question for a moment.

“…Depending on the situation.”

“I see.”

“It’s unlikely.”

“Alright.”

Neither of them noticed the classroom door sliding open just enough for someone to peek inside.

Momoi Satsuki had only intended to ask whether Tetsuya wanted to walk home together.

Instead…

She saw Seijuro standing across from Tetsuya with his usual calm expression, the two of them shaking hands as though they had just made a very important promise.

She couldn’t hear most of their conversation.

Only the very end.

“…I love you.”

Then Seijuro gently took the papers from Tetsuya’s hands, and Tetsuya smiled.

It wasn’t a big smile.

Just a small, quiet one.

But it was enough.

Momoi slowly closed the door again.

Her eyes were wide.

She immediately pulled out her phone.

Group Chat: touch grass (impossible)

Momoi: I THINK TETSU-KUN AND AKASHI-KUN ARE DATING.

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

Kise: WHAT?????

Kise: SINCE WHEN???

Aomine: no theyre not

Midorima: Source?

Momoi: I JUST SAW THEM.

Murasakibara: :0

Midorima: Define "saw."

Momoi: THEY SAID "I LOVE YOU"

Aomine: ...

Aomine: hold on

Kise: THEY WHAT

Momoi AKASHI-KUN TOOK TETSU-KUN'S HAND

Kise: I'M GOING TO THEM

Aomine: youre across the building dumbass

Kise: I'M GOING BACK ANYWAY

Midorima: This explains why Akashi has been smiling recently

Aomine: hes been WHAT?

Murasakibara: i thought they were dating already

Everyone is typing...

Inside the classroom, completely oblivious to the chaos that had just begun…

Seijuro folded the contract neatly.

“…I’ll bring the finalized copy on Monday.”

Tetsuya nodded.

“…I’ll sign it.”

Neither of them realized that before their fake relationship had even officially begun…

Half the basketball club already believed it was real.

Chapter Text

By Monday morning, the contract had been revised three times.

Seijuro had corrected minor grammatical inconsistencies.

Tetsuya had crossed out the part about an unexpected amusement park date after deciding it was unnecessarily specific.

Seijuro had disagreed.

Tetsuya had won.

The final version was still twelve pages long.

"...I think this is enough."

"I agree."

"...There are still notes."

"They're important."

"...Somehow I expected you to say that."

They signed their names.

Akashi Seijuro.

Kuroko Tetsuya.

The contract was folded neatly and placed into Seijuro's school bag.

"...So," Tetsuya said, "when do we begin pretending?"

Seijuro checked the time.

"..Now."

"...Now?"

"My father requested that I attend dinner with the daughter of one of his associates this evening."

"I see."

"I intend to decline."

"And mention your boyfriend."

"Correct."

"...That's efficient."

"I try to be."

Tetsuya nodded once.

"...Then I should probably tell Momoi-san."

"I believe she already knows."

"...How?"

Before Seijuro could answer—

The classroom door slammed open.

"TETSU-KUN!"

Momoi practically sprinted across the room.

Before Tetsuya had time to react, both of his shoulders were firmly in her hands.

"...Momoi-san?"

Her eyes were impossibly bright.

"When were you planning on telling me?"

"...Telling you what?"

"That you're dating Akashi-kun!"

Silence.

Tetsuya looked at Seijuro.

Seijuro looked back.

"...That was quicker than anticipated."

"I agree."

Momoi gasped. "You admitted it!"

"...We weren't denying it."

"You've been dating this whole time?!"

"..Not exactly."

"THEN WHEN?"

"...Approximately fourteen hours."

Momoi's brain visibly stalled.

"...Fourteen..."

She slowly turned toward Seijuro.

"...Hours?"

"Approximately."

"...That's... that's yesterday!"

"Yes."

"...AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!"

"...We were going to."

Momoi blinked.

"...You were?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"...Fair."

⸻

Unfortunately...

She couldn't.

Because by lunch...

The entire basketball club somehow knew.

"KUROKOCCHI!"

Kise burst through the cafeteria doors dramatically enough that several first-years jumped.

He pointed directly at Tetsuya.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND?!"

The cafeteria fell silent.

Every head turned.

Tetsuya slowly lowered the spoon he had been using to eat curry.

"...Good afternoon, Kise-kun."

"DON'T 'GOOD AFTERNOON' ME!"

Kise marched straight to their table.

His expression was one of genuine betrayal.

"I INTRODUCED YOU TO PEOPLE!"

"...You did."

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE SINGLE!"

"...I was."

"YESTERDAY!"

"..Also true."

Kise grabbed the nearest chair dramatically and sat down backwards.

"...I need answers."

Across from him, Aomine was already eating.

"I told you to calm down."

"You literally ran here with me!"

"...Didn't say I wasn't curious."

Midorima adjusted his glasses. "I also have several questions."

Murasakibara looked up from an enormous bag of chips.

"...Can I still have your pudding if you guys go on dates?"

"Yes," Tetsuya replied automatically.

"Nice."

Kise looked like he was suffering.

"YOU'RE ALL MISSING THE IMPORTANT PART!"

He narrowed his eyes.

"I HAD TO WAIT FOR HOURS UNTIL LUNCH BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIND YOU OR AKASHICCHI YESTERDAY."

Kise pointed accusingly between Seijuro and Tetsuya.

"Since when?!"

Seijuro answered calmly. "Yesterday afternoon."

"And you started dating..."

"Yesterday afternoon."

"...Really?"

"Yes."

"...You confessed..."

"No."

"You didn't?"

"We discussed it."

"...Like normal people?"

"Not particularly."

Tetsuya quietly added, "There was a lot of overthinking."

Kise stared.

"...Overthinking."

"Yes."

"...For your relationship."

"Yes."

Kise turned to Aomine.

"...Am I hallucinating?"

"Probably."

"Did he just say overthinking?"

"He did."

Momoi buried her face in her hands. "I told you."

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING!"

"I wish I was."

Midorima sighed.

"...Somehow... this is exactly how I imagined Akashi would begin dating."

"With overthinking?" Aomine asked.

"...With overthinking."

Even Murasakibara nodded.

"Sounds like Aka-chin."

Seijuro accepted the observation without offense.

"I appreciate your understanding."

"I WASN'T COMPLIMENTING YOU!"

⸻

The conversation should have ended there.

It didn't.

Because Kise suddenly narrowed his eyes.

"Hold on."

Everyone looked at him.

"You guys..." he leaned closer. "...Haven't done anything couple-like."

"We've eaten lunch together," Tetsuya offered.

"You always eat lunch together!"

"We've walked home."

"You've done that before!"

"We watched a movie."

"...WITH MOMOI!"

Silence.

Kise smiled. "Aha."

"...Aha?" Tetsuya repeated.

"You need proof."

"...Proof?"

"If you're dating..." he grinned mischievously. "...Hold hands."

The table went quiet.

Momoi's eyes widened.

Aomine immediately stopped chewing.

Midorima closed his book.

Murasakibara looked genuinely interested.

Tetsuya looked at Seijuro.

"...Should we?"

Seijuro nodded once.

"If that's what it takes to convince them."

"Alright."

Without another word...

Seijuro reached across the table.

His hand came to rest, palm up.

Waiting

Tetsuya looked at it for only a second before placing his own hand into it.

Naturally.

Comfortably.

Like it wasn't strange at all.

Seijuro's fingers curled gently around his.

Not too tight.

Just enough.

The cafeteria somehow became even quieter.

Kise's mouth slowly fell open.

Momoi made a tiny, strangled noise.

Aomine blinked. "...Huh."

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

"...Well."

Murasakibara smiled faintly.

"Cute."

Tetsuya tilted his head.

"...Is this enough proof?"

No one answered immediately.

Because somehow, the handholding didn't look rehearsed or awkward.

It didn't even look fake.

It looked...

Natural.

Seijuro glanced at Tetsuya.

"Your hand is cold."

"...It usually is."

Without thinking, Seijuro shifted their joined hands slightly between both of his, warming them.

"Better?"

"Thank you."

The silence became deafening.

Kise stood up so abruptly his chair nearly fell over.

"I KNEW IT!"

"You literally didn't," Aomine said.

"I DO NOW!"

He pointed dramatically at the two of them.

"YOU'RE DISGUSTINGLY CUTE!"

"...Thank you?" Tetsuya replied.

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT AS A COMPLIMENT!"

"...I believe you did," Seijuro said.

Kise let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a sob.

Momoi quietly took out her phone beneath the table.

touch grass (impossible)

Momoi: Update

Momoi: THEY HELD HANDS

Aomine: ...

Aomine: we're right next to you

Kise: I'M LITERALLY WATCHING THEM.

Midorima: This is becoming increasingly convincing.

Murasakibara: told u

Akashi is typing...

Momoi's eyes widened in horror.

"...Akashi-kun."

"Yes?"

"...You're in the group chat."

"I am."

"...Please don't respond."

Seijuro looked down at his phone.

Then calmly typed anyway.

Akashi: Thank you for your concern.

Kise looked at his own phone.

Then at Seijuro.

Then back at his phone.

"...HE TEXTS LIKE HE SPEAKS."

"He does," Tetsuya agreed.

And somehow...

That only convinced everyone even more.

Chapter Text

By afternoon, Teikō had fully accepted something neither Seijuro nor Tetsuya had actually confirmed out loud.

They were dating.

That was the official story now.

Facts were irrelevant.

Witnesses were everywhere.

⸻

Tetsuya sat in class like nothing had changed.

Because, in his opinion, nothing had.

He turned a page in his book.

Calm.

Quiet.

Normal.

Across the room, Seijuro was also normal.

Which was exactly the problem.

He was too normal around Tetsuya.

A chair slightly pulled closer.

A textbook placed before Tetsuya even asked.

A pause timed perfectly so Tetsuya could finish speaking.

Nothing obvious.

Nothing dramatic.

Still worse than anything obvious or dramatic.

⸻

By lunch, Momoi had given up.

She had accepted reality.

Or whatever version of it was circulating through Teikō.

She sat in the hallway.

Her phone in hand, typing like her life depended on it.

touch grass (impossible)

Momoi: UPDATEEE!!

Momoi: They walked home together

Kise: Momoicchi, that’s normal. They always do that.

Momoi: Akashi-kun also bought him something.

Silence.

Then chaos.

Midorima: Define “something”.

Momoi: A milkshake

Aomine: for both of them?

Momoi: Just Tetsu-kun.

Another silence.

Longer this time.

Kise: THAT’S NOT NORMAL

Murasakibara: sounds nice

Aomine: thats weird

⸻

After school, they did walk home together.

No one asked them to.

It just happened.

Same pace.

Same silence.

Comfortable.

Tetsuya spoke first.

“…People are staring more than usual.”

“Yes,” Seijuro said.

“Is that expected?”

“Yes.”

“…Why?”

“I believe Ryouta is responsible.”

“…That’s believable.”

⸻

At the gate of the Akashi estate, Masaomi was waiting.

He looked relaxed.

Too relaxed.

Like he already knew everything.

Or thought he did.

“…Welcome home,” he said.

His gaze moved from Seijuro to Tetsuya, then down.

Their hands were still loosely linked.

Tetsuya noticed first.

He tried to let go.

Seijuro didn’t stop him.

He just didn’t move away either.

Masaomi’s expression shifted by a fraction.

Not shock.

Not exactly.

More like the slow, dawning realization of a man who had just discovered he had been the last person in the house to hear the news.

He looked at Tetsuya again.

Then at Seijuro.

Then back at their hands.

“…Seijuro,” he said carefully, “why is your classmate holding your hand?”

Seijuro answered without hesitation.

“Because we’re dating.”

There was a pause.

A very long pause.

Masaomi blinked once.

Then twice.

“…I see.”

Another pause.

Then, with the calm of someone trying very hard not to laugh, he asked, “And when exactly were you planning to tell me my son had a boyfriend?”

Tetsuya, entirely serious, said, “…We were waiting for the right time.”

Masaomi’s mouth twitched.

“And was the right time before or after you brought him home?”

“After dinner,” Seijuro said.

Masaomi stared at him.

Then at Tetsuya.

Then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I cancel all your meetings because you asked,” he said, “and you come back with a boyfriend.”

Seijuro remained perfectly composed.

Tetsuya, somehow, looked even calmer.

Masaomi laughed under his breath.

“Well. At least he has good taste.”

⸻

Dinner was quiet.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… observed.

Masaomi watched them talk.

Watched them eat.

Watched the small pauses between their sentences that somehow always felt like understanding instead of silence.

He also watched Seijuro, as if waiting for him to suddenly announce this was all a joke.

He never did.

Finally, Masaomi set down his chopsticks.

“So,” he said.

Two pairs of eyes turned toward him.

“How long has this been going on?”

“…Two days,” Tetsuya said.

Seijuro added, “Three if you include preparation.”

Masaomi stared at him for a moment.

Then he laughed again, this time openly.

“Preparation,” he repeated. “You really did plan this.”

“It was efficient,” Seijuro said.

Masaomi shook his head, still smiling.

“I should have known something was wrong when you started answering your phone with that expression.”

Tetsuya tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“What expression?”

“The one that says my son is either in trouble or in love.”

Seijuro didn’t react.

Tetsuya, after a pause, said, “…Both?”

Masaomi nearly choked on his tea.

⸻

Later that night, Seijuro’s phone vibrated nonstop.

touch grass (impossible)

Momoi: THEY WENT HOME TOGETHER

Kise: Of course they did!

Midorima: Predictable.

Aomine: i dont believe this

Murasakibara: i do

Momoi: AKASHI-KUN TOOK HIM TO HIS HOUSE

Kise: THIS IS ROMANTIC BEHAVIOR

Aomine: or just rich behavior

Momoi: It was just for Tetsu-kun. He’s never taken any of us to his house.

Dead silence.

Then:

Kise: …Oh.

Midorima: Now that’s concerning.

Murasakibara: cute tho

Seijuro read the messages.

Then calmly typed:

Akashi: It was practical.

Tetsuya glanced at him.

“…Was it?”

“Yes.”

“…That’s not what Kise-kun said.”

Seijuro didn’t look away from his phone.

“…Ryouta is incorrect.”

Another message came in immediately.

Kise: AKASHICCHI I CAN SEE YOUR NAME WHEN YOU TYPE

Seijuro paused.

Then replied:

Akashi: Hello, Ryouta.

Tetsuya blinked.

“…You didn’t deny anything.”

“I didn’t need to.”

Outside the window, Teikō continued to spiral.

Inside the house, everything was very calm.

Which, somehow, made it worse.

Chapter Text

Tetsuya arrived at school exactly on time, as always.

He sat down, opened his book, and prepared for a normal day.

That was his first mistake.

⸻

Seijuro arrived next.

Not planned.

Not early enough to be suspicious.

Just… exactly when people expected him to show up.

Which somehow made it worse.

Because he walked in, saw Tetsuya, and sat beside him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It wasn’t loud or announced.

It was just consistent.

⸻

First period passed without incident.

Second period started rumors.

Third period confirmed them.

By lunch, the school had fully decided reality was optional.

⸻

Momoi broke first.

She always did.

She slid into the cafeteria table like she had been personally attacked by fate.

“I have updates.”

No one reacted.

Because they all already knew this meant suffering.

“Go on,” Aomine said, already tired.

“They showed up together.”

“Yeah,” Kise said.

A pause.

“That’s every day.”

“They sat together.”

“That’s also every day.”

“They shared notes.”

“That’s called class.”

Momoi slammed the table.

“He fixed Tetsu-kun’s pen without being asked.”

Silence.

Midorima looked up slowly.

“…That is new.”

Aomine frowned.

“That’s weird.”

Kise leaned forward.

“WAIT THAT’S ROMANTIC?”

“No,” Midorima said immediately. “it isn’t.”

Momoi pointed aggressively.

“It IS.”

⸻

Across the cafeteria, Tetsuya was eating quietly.

Seijuro sat beside him.

He noticed Tetsuya wasn’t touching his drink.

So he slid it closer.

No explanation.

Just did it.

Tetsuya blinked.

“…I was going to get it.”

“You weren’t moving.”

“I was thinking.”

“Thinking doesn’t hydrate you.”

Tetsuya accepted the drink anyway.

“…Thank you.”

Seijuro just hummed like it wasn’t a big deal.

Which, unfortunately, made it look like a very big deal.

⸻

Kise stood up. “This is getting out of hand!”

Aomine didn’t even look up.

“It’s lunch.”

“It’s NOT just lunch!”

Murasakibara, chewing:

“…They’re kind of always like that.”

Kise turned dramatically.

“LIKE WHAT?”

“Like that,” Murasakibara repeated.

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

“…He is correct.”

Kise looked personally betrayed by reality itself.

⸻

After lunch, things got worse.

Because Seijuro walked Tetsuya to class.

Not all the way.

Just part of the way.

Like it wasn’t intentional.

Like it just… lined up.

Tetsuya didn’t question it.

He just walked at the same pace.

Seijuro glanced at him once.

“…You’re quieter than usual.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Quieter than usual.”

“…I didn’t sleep much.”

Seijuro frowned slightly.

“You should.”

“I know.”

That was it.

No drama.

No confession.

Just concern.

Which somehow felt louder than everything else.

⸻

By afternoon practice, the basketball club was already mentally exhausted.

Aomine stretched lazily.

“…If Kise brings this up one more time, I’m leaving.”

Kise immediately appeared.

“YOU GUYS ARE NOT SEEING THIS CLEARLY.”

“We are,” Midorima said.

“No you’re NOT!”

Momoi pointed at her phone.

“They WALKED HOME YESTERDAY.”

“That is normal.”

“HE HAD DINNER WITH TETSU-KUN.”

Aomine scoffed.

“Still pretty normal.”

“HE FIXED HIS PEN.”

He paused.

“…Okay that one is weird.”

Kise slammed his hands together.

“THANK YOU.”

⸻

Meanwhile, Tetsuya and Seijuro were walking home.

Same as always.

Same pace.

Same silence.

Tetsuta spoke first.

“…People were staring again.”

“They always are.”

“Is it because of us?”

“Yes.”

“Is that going to stop?”

“No.”

Tetsuya nodded. “…That’s fair.”

Seijuro glanced at him.

“You okay with it?”

Tetsuya thought for a moment.

“…It’s just noise.”

That made Seijuro quiet for a second.

Then he said, a little softer, “Good.”

That was all.

But Tetsuya noticed anyway.

Of course he did.

⸻

At the gate, Masaomi was waiting.

Again.

Like he had made it a habit.

He looked between them.

Then smiled.

“You’re getting efficient at this.”

Seijuro replied, “It’s not difficult.”

Tetsuya added, “It’s consistent.”

Masaomi chuckled.

“Consistency is dangerous at your age.”

Neither of them responded to that.

But they heard it.

⸻

That night, the group chat was on fire again.

touch grass (impossible)

Momoi: HE FIXED HIS PEN

Kise: WE KNOW!!

Midorima: That implies close proximity.

Aomine: i hate this school

Murasakibara: sounds normal

Momoi: IT WAS GENTLE.

Kise: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???

Kise: UNNECCESSARY EMOTIONAL INTERPRETATION.

Aomine: im done

Murasakibara: you spelled it wrong

Murasakibara: you added another ‘c’

Seijuro glanced at the messages once.

Tetsuya looked up.

“…Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Is Kise-kun is screaming again?”

“Yes.”

Tetsuta nodded.

“He’ll be fine.”

Seijuro smirked faintly.

“He always is.”

And somehow, that was the most honest thing anyone had said all day.

Chapter Text

It happened before anyone was properly awake.

Before the gym had fully filled.

Before the noise had settled into something normal.

Early morning practice at Teikō always felt half-real, like the world hadn’t loaded in properly yet.

⸻

Tetsuya was already on court.

Of course he was.

Light warm-up passes.

Quiet movement.

Nothing unusual.

Seijuro stood a few steps away, watching without saying anything.

Not because he was supervising.

Because he was paying attention.

There was a difference.

⸻

A group of younger students had been allowed in for joint practice drills that morning.

First-years.

Overexcited.

Too fast.

Too loud.

The exact combination that usually led to problems.

Aomine was already yawning.

“…Why are they so loud this early.”

“Energy levels vary by age,” Midorima replied flatly.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It is an explanation.”

⸻

Kise was mid-sentence about “morning conditioning ruining his skin” when it happened.

A pass went wrong.

Not strategic.

Not intentional.

Just careless.

A first-year rushed forward to intercept.

Too fast.

Too uncoordinated.

He didn’t stop in time.

He collided directly with Tetsuya.

⸻

The sound was small.

That was the worst part.

Not dramatic.

Just wrong.

Tetsuya stumbled back.

His foot caught awkwardly.

He hit the floor on one knee and didn’t immediately stand.

Silence dropped over the court like someone had shut a door.

“…Tetsu-kun?” Momoi’s voice came out sharper than she meant.

Kise was already moving.

“Wait—Kurokocchi—?”

Aomine frowned.

“That didn’t look good.”

Murasakibara tilted his head slightly.

“…He fell weird.”

⸻

Seijuro was there instantly.

Not running.

Just suddenly closer.

Like distance had stopped applying.

He knelt beside Tetsuya.

“Tetsuya.”

The bluenette blinked once. “…I’m fine.”

He tried to stand but didn’t fully manage it, his hand pressing briefly against his leg.

He paused.

Seijuro’s expression changed.

Not panic.

Not loud.

Just focused.

“…Where.”

Tetsuya looked down.

His voice came out quieter than before when he muttered, “…It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

A pause stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable in the way only honesty tends to be.

Tetsuya exhaled slowly.

Then finally gave in with a small, reluctant voice, he spoke.

“…My ankle.”

Behind them, the first-year who caused it froze completely.

“I—I didn’t— I didn’t mean—”

Aomine grabbed him by the collar before anyone else could react.

“Watch where you’re going.”

The boy went pale.

“I said I didn’t mean it!”

“I know,” Aomine said, voice sharp. “That’s the problem.”

⸻

Momoi was already at Tetsuya’s side.

Her usual energy was gone.

“…Does it hurt?”

Tetsuya hesitated.

“…A little.”

That was enough.

⸻

Seijuro gently adjusted Tetsuya’s position.

“…Don’t move it.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Good.”

A pause.

Then quieter:

“…How bad is it?”

Tetsuya looked at him.

“…I don’t know.”

Seijuro didn’t respond immediately.

⸻

The coach was shouting somewhere in the background.

People were moving.

Practice had stopped entirely.

But none of it reached the center of the court.

Not really.

Because everything important had already narrowed down to two people on the floor.

⸻

Seijuro stood carefully.

Then lifted Tetsuya without hesitation.

Not dramatic or exaggerated.

Just steady.

Tetsuya blinked.

“…I can walk.”

“You won’t.”

“That isn’t logical.”

“It is if I don’t trust your ankle.”

That ended the argument.

Kise stared.

“…This is getting worse.”

Momoi didn’t even look at him. “This is getting serious.”

Aomine clicked his tongue.

“That kid’s dead if Tetsu’s actually hurt.”

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

“…That is an overreaction.”

“No it isn’t,” Aomine said.

⸻

Tetsuya leaned slightly against Seijuro’s shoulder.

“…It’s not that bad.”

Seijuro looked down at him briefly.

“Don’t lie.”

Tetsuya paused.

Then quietly:

“…Okay.”

Somehow, that was what made everyone else even more nervous.

Because Seijuro wasn’t reacting loudly.

He was reacting calmly.

Which meant he already knew exactly what he was going to do next.

And that was always worse.

———

The infirmary was too bright for early morning.

Everything looked sharper than it needed to be.

Too clean.

Too quiet.

Like the world was pretending nothing had just happened on the court.

⸻

Tetsuya sat on the examination bed.

His ankle was elevated.

Ice pack in place.

Expression unchanged.

Seijuro stood beside him with his arms crossed, watching the doctor instead of the injury, like he was evaluating the entire situation for flaws.

Momoi was pacing.

Aomine was leaning against the wall looking annoyed at the concept of mornings.

Kise looked like he was one bad sentence away from collapsing emotionally.

The nurse finished the exam and sighed.

“It’s a sprain.”

The room didn’t relax.

Not really.

Because Seijuro didn’t move.

Neither did Aomine.

“…Severity?” Seijuro asked.

“Minor. Rest, ice, compression. No practice for a few days.”

Kise let out a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank god.”

Momoi slapped him lightly.

“Don’t do that.”

“I ALMOST DIED FROM WORRY.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I DID INTERNALLY.”

Tetsuya blinked.

“…So I can still walk.”

“Yes,” the nurse said.

“…That’s good.”

Seijuro didn’t look convinced.

“That’s not the point.”

Tetsuya looked at him. “…What is the point?”

Seijuro paused.

Just briefly.

“…That it shouldn’t have happened.”

That shut the room up a little.

Even Aomine stopped moving.

Tetsuya shifted slightly on the bed.

“…It was an accident.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

Seijuro cut in, quieter now.

“Because it was preventable.”

No anger.

Just fact.

Which somehow made it heavier.

⸻

Momoi stepped closer.

“…Akashi-kun, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. The first-year panicked.”

Kise added, “He didn’t aim for him.”

Seijuro didn’t respond immediately.

Then he said,

“I didn’t say it was intentional.”

Silence again.

Tetsuya looked down at his bandaged ankle.

“…I’m fine,” he said again.

Seijuro finally looked at him directly.

“You don’t get to decide that immediately after falling.”

Tetsuya blinked once.

“…That sounds restrictive.”

“It is.”

“That’s new.”

“It’s necessary.”

Midorima exhaled sharply.

“…You’re acting like he broke something permanent.”

Seijuro didn’t look away from Tetsuya.

“I’m acting like I don’t want it to happen again.”

That landed differently.

Even for Aomine.

Even for Kise.

Kise whispered, “This is way too intense for a sprain.”

Momoi whispered back, “It’s not about the sprain.”

The nurse cleared her throat awkwardly.

“You can go home, but I recommend assistance for walking.”

Seijuro responded immediately.

“I’ll take him.”

Momoi blinked.

“I can—”

“I’ll take him,” Seijuro repeated.

No debate.

No room for one.

Tetsuya shifted slightly.

“…I can manage.”

Seijuro finally exhaled, like he was trying to stop himself from saying something more complicated.

“No. You can’t today.”

Tetsuya studied him for a second.

Then nodded.

“Alright.”

Too easily.

Like he trusted it without thinking.

⸻

That was what made the room quiet again.

Not the injury.

Not the nurse.

Not even Seijuro’s tone.

It was the fact that Tetsuya just… accepted it.

No resistance.

No argument.

Just trust.

⸻

Outside the infirmary, the hallway felt colder as Seijuro walked beside him at a slow, careful pace, matching his steps.

Not because Tetsuya needed it, but because Seijuro did.

“…You’re quiet,” Tetsuya said after a while.

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

Seijuro glanced at him briefly.

“…About how fast things can go wrong when people don’t pay attention.”

Tetsuya looked forward.

“That’s always been true.”

“I know.”

A pause.

Then Seijuro added, softer,

“…I just don’t like it happening near you.”

Tetsuya didn’t answer immediately.

He adjusted his grip slightly on Seijuro’s sleeve for balance.

“I’ll be more careful.”

Seijuro shook his head once, the motion small but final, like the idea itself was already rejected.

“That’s not enough.”

Tetsuya blinked, slow and unreadable, like he was trying to process something that didn’t come with instructions.

“Then what is.”

Seijuro didn’t answer immediately.

He just kept walking, steps steady, unbothered on the surface in a way that never actually meant calm.

Then, quietly, without looking over,

“…I’ll handle it.”

Tetsuya looked at him.

“…That sounds like a lot.”

“It is.”

“…Are you sure?”

Seijuro glanced at him again.

For a second, his expression softened just slightly.

“…Yes.”

And this time, Tetsuya didn’t question it.

⸻

Behind them, Momoi was already typing.

Aomine was already complaining.

Kise was already spiraling.

Murasakibara was eating

Midorima was adjusting his lucky item.

But none of that reached the hallway.

Not really.

Because Seijuro was walking too carefully.

And Tetsuya was letting him.

And somehow, that was louder than everything else combined.

Chapter Text

That afternoon, Tetsuya found himself thinking about it far more than he expected.

Not the injury.

The injury was minor.

His ankle already hurt less than it had that morning.

No.

He kept thinking about Seijuro.

About the way he'd reached him first.

The way he'd carried him without asking.

The way he'd looked at the nurse as though a sprained ankle was somehow unacceptable.

It didn't make sense.

⸻

By the time practice ended, Tetsuya was still thinking about it.

He was putting away the basketballs, collecting the ones that had rolled across the court and dropping them into the metal cart one at a time.

The gym had begun to empty around him, filled only with the familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor and distant conversations echoing near the locker rooms.

"...Tetsu-kun?"

Tetsuya looked up from the basketball in his hands.

Momoi was making her way across the court toward him, her clipboard tucked under one arm and a small, relieved smile already forming on her face.

"Yes?"

She stopped beside the cart, her eyes immediately drifting down to the athletic tape wrapped neatly around his ankle.

"How's your ankle?"

Tetsuya glanced down as well, carefully shifting his weight onto it for a brief moment before looking back at her.

"...It hurts less."

Momoi let out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I'm glad."

For a moment, she simply watched him continue placing the last few basketballs into the cart.

He looked fine.

Calm.

Just as expressionless as always.

But...

Something felt different.

She smiled softly before tilting her head.

"...You look like you're thinking."

"I am."

"About what?"

Tetsuya was quiet for a moment.

"...Akashi-kun."

Momoi blinked.

"...Akashi-kun?"

Tetsuya nodded once.

"Yes."

She frowned slightly. "What about him?"

Tetsuya was quiet for a moment, as though trying to put his thoughts into words.

"Why was he so worried?"

Momoi tilted her head.

"...What do you mean?"

"He seemed..."

Tetsuya paused, replaying the morning in his mind.

"The moment I fell, he was beside me."

He lowered his gaze.

"He wouldn't let me stand and kept asking if I was alright."

Another small pause.

"...He seemed... unusually concerned."

Momoi simply stared at him.

Not because of what he had said.

But because he sounded so confused.

As if Seijuro's reaction hadn't made any sense to him.

"...Tetsu-kun."

"...Yes?"

"...Are you serious?"

"I believe so."

She looked toward the ceiling.

"You two are dating."

Tetsuya blinked.

"Tetsu-kun, people usually react like that when someone important gets hurt."

Tetsuya considered her words.

"The Generation of Miracles are important to each other."

"They are."

"So it isn't unusual."

"Not exactly."

He looked at her.

"...Then what is?"

Momoi opened her mouth.

The answer came to her immediately.

Because he's hopelessly in love with you.

She closed it again.

No.

She couldn't say that.

She let out a small sigh.

"Just pay a little more attention."

Tetsuya tilted his head.

"...To what?"

Momoi smiled faintly.

"To Akashi-kun."

"...Akashi-kun?"

"Watch the way he acts around you."

She paused.

"...The things he notices. The things he says or does."

Tetsuya blinked.

"...I don't understand."

"I know."

Momoi laughed quietly to herself.

"Just trust me."

She turned around.

"Keep paying attention... I think you'll understand eventually."

⸻

On the other side of the gym, Seijuro was finishing a conversation with the coach.

When he turned around, his eyes immediately found Tetsuya.

"Does your ankle hurt?"

"Not much."

"You limped."

"...Only a little."

"You still limped."

"I suppose I did."

"I'll walk you home."

Tetsuya blinked.

"...You don't have to."

"I know."

"...Then why?"

Seijuro answered so naturally that it almost sounded obvious.

"Because I want to."

Tetsuya fell silent.

That answer...

Didn't fit anywhere.

It wasn't practical.

It wasn't efficient.

It wasn't something Seijuro usually said.

Because I want to.

He quietly followed beside him as they left the gym.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

"...Akashi-kun."

"Hm?"

"...Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Another question."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Seijuro's mouth.

"You may."

"...Why do you care so much?"

Seijuro stopped walking.

Only for a second.

"...About your ankle?"

"...About me."

The question lingered between them.

Simple.

Honest.

Seijuro looked at Tetsuya for a long moment.

Long enough that Tetsuya wondered if he'd asked something inappropriate.

Finally, Seijuro spoke.

"...You're my friend."

"The others are your friends too."

"They are."

"...Would you react like this if Aomine-kun sprained his ankle?"

"No."

"Kise-kun?"

"No."

"...Midorima-kun?"

"Probably not."

"...Murasakibara-kun?"

"He'd complain before I reached him."

Tetsuya frowned slightly.

"Then why me?"

Seijuro opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because he didn't know.

Or rather...

He hadn't let himself know.

After a long silence, he settled on the only answer he could honestly give.

"...I'm not sure."

Tetsuya looked at him quietly.

"I see."

Neither of them realized it.

But that was the first truly honest conversation they had ever had about each other.

And somehow...

Neither of them understood what it meant.

Chapter Text

The walk home was unusually quiet.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… thoughtful.

Tetsuya found himself stealing the occasional glance toward Seijuro before looking away again, only to realize a few moments later that he was doing it again.

It was unlike him.

He usually didn’t dwell on things.

Yet the words from earlier refused to leave his mind.

Because I want to.

⸻

When they reached the Akashi estate, the gates slid open automatically.

The mansion stood exactly as it always had.

Elegant.

Imposing.

Far too large for the number of people living inside.

Masaomi was in the garden when they arrived.

He looked up from the newspaper in his hands and smiled.

“Welcome home.”

“Good evening, Father.”

“…Good evening.”

Masaomi’s gaze drifted toward Tetsuya’s ankle.

“I heard what happened.”

“…It wasn’t serious.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He folded the newspaper neatly.

“How are you feeling?”

“It hurts less than this morning.”

“I’m glad.”

His attention shifted to Seijuro.

“You’ve been looking after him all day?”

“I have.”

Masaomi smiled knowingly.

“I can tell.”

Tetsuya looked between them.

“…Can you?”

“Quite easily.”

“How?”

Masaomi chuckled. “You’ve never been particularly difficult to read, Seijuro.”

“…I disagree.”

“I’m aware.”

⸻

Dinner was already prepared.

The three of them sat together as they usually did whenever Tetsuya stayed over.

Conversation came easily.

School.

Practice.

Homework.

Nothing unusual.

Then Tetsuya reached for the teacup across the table.

Before he could reach for it…

Seijuro had already poured a cup and placed it beside him.

“Here.”

“...Thank you.”

Masaomi watched the exchange quietly.

Then another.

Halfway through dinner, Tetsuya reached for a serving dish on the opposite side of the table.

Before his hand got there…

Seijuro passed it to him.

Again.

“…Thank you.”

A few minutes later…

Tetsuya set down his chopsticks for only a second.

When he reached for them again…

Seijuro had already picked them up and handed them back.

“…Thank you.”

Another pause.

Then Masaomi smiled into his tea.

Seijuro noticed.

“…What?”

“Nothing.”

“You smiled.”

“I did.”

“…Why?”

Masaomi looked between the two boys.

“I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You and Tetsuya.”

Seijuro nodded once.

“What about us?”

Masaomi rested his chin against his hand.

“It seems to be going well.”

“It is.”

“I can see that.”

Tetsuya looked mildly confused.

“…Can you?”

“Mm.”

“How?”

Masaomi smiled. “Because the little things are no longer little.”

Neither of them understood.

They simply looked at him.

Masaomi laughed softly.

“…Never mind.”

⸻

Later that evening, Tetsuya was sitting on the living room sofa with a novel open across his lap.

He’d read the same page three times.

He hadn’t absorbed a single sentence.

His thoughts kept wandering.

Because I want to.

“…You’re reading very slowly.”

Tetsuya looked up.

Seijuro stood in the doorway holding two mugs.

“I am.”

“You’ve been on the same page for ten minutes.”

“…Have I?”

“You have.”

Seijuro handed him one of the mugs before sitting beside him.

“Is something bothering you?”

Tetsuya accepted the tea.

“…Can I ask you another question?”

“You’ve asked quite a few today.”

“…One more.”

Seijuro nodded.

“Go ahead.”

Tetsuya looked down at the tea in his hands.

“…Have you always been like this?”

“Like what?”

“Attentive.”

Seijuro thought for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then why now?”

He expected another practical answer.

Another logical explanation.

Instead…

Seijuro simply smiled.

“…I’m not sure.”

Tetsuya stared at him.

That…

Somehow confused him even more.

The room was quiet again.

Only the soft ticking of the grandfather clock echoed through the mansion.

Tetsuya lowered his gaze to the mug in his hands.

The tea had already begun to cool.

“…Akashi-kun.”

“Hm?”

There was a brief pause.

“Can I ask you something?”

Seijuro looked up from his book.

“You’ve asked me quite a few questions today.”

“…One more.”

A faint smile crossed Seijuro’s face.

“I don’t mind.”

Tetsuya hesitated.

Not because he was embarrassed.

He simply wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

“Would it be alright if I stayed here tonight?”

Seijuro blinked.

“…Stayed?”

“Overnight.”

A quiet silence settled between them.

Not awkward.

Just unexpected.

“You usually go home after dinner.”

“I know.”

“…Did something happen?”

Tetsuya shook his head.

“No.”

“My apartment is still there and my homework is finished. There isn’t really a reason.”

He paused before quietly adding,

“…I just don’t feel like going home today.”

The words were simple.

But Seijuro understood what Tetsuya hadn’t actually said.

He didn’t want to go back to an empty apartment.

Not tonight.

Not after spending the entire day surrounded by people.

Not after remembering how quiet home could be.

Seijuro closed his book.

“You don’t need a reason.”

Tetsuya looked up.

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“If you want to stay, then stay.”

“…Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

For the first time all evening, Tetsuya looked relieved.

“Thank you.”

Seijuro stood.

“I’ll let Father know.”

“You don’t have to ask?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why?”

A small smile appeared on Seijuro’s face.

“It’s polite.”

Tetsuya considered that.

“I suppose it is.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

As Seijuro reached the door, Tetsuya spoke again.

“…Akashi-kun.”

He turned around.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad I asked.”

For a second, Seijuro simply looked at him.

Then his expression softened almost imperceptibly.

“…So am I.”

He quietly left the room, leaving Tetsuya alone with a warm cup of tea, a comfortable silence, and a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d been missing until now.

⸻

By the time Seijuro returned upstairs, the hallway was quiet.

He had spent longer than expected speaking with his father.

Mostly because Masaomi had smiled far too knowingly before saying,

“Be kind to him.”

As though that had ever been in question.

Seijuro closed his bedroom door behind him.

The room was empty.

Or so he thought.

The bathroom door was slightly open.

Steam drifted lazily into the room.

Tetsuya had already finished showering.

“…Tetsuya?”

No answer.

Seijuro walked farther inside.

Then stopped.

One of his hoodies was missing from the chair.

So were a pair of navy pajama pants.

He blinked.

“…He really did just take them.”

It wasn’t a complaint.

If anything, he found it strangely amusing.

He picked up his own towel before disappearing into the bathroom.

⸻

When he came back twenty minutes later, his hair was still damp.

He rubbed it absently with another towel as he stepped into the bedroom.

“Tetsuya?”

Still no answer.

His eyes wandered toward the bed.

And there he was.

Fast asleep.

Tetsuya had apparently intended to wait for him.

The novel he’d been reading rested open on his chest.

One of Seijuro’s oversized hoodies nearly swallowed him whole, the sleeves covering his hands completely while the hem hung almost to his knees. The pajama pants were rolled at the ankles several times to keep them from dragging on the floor.

At some point, he’d simply…

Fallen asleep.

The book had slipped slightly to one side.

His breathing was slow.

Steady.

Peaceful.

Seijuro stood there for a long moment.

Then, almost without thinking, he walked over.

He carefully lifted the novel from Tetsuya’s chest, folded the page he’d been on, and placed it neatly on the bedside table.

Tetsuya shifted slightly in his sleep.

“…Mm…”

His hand searched lazily across the blanket before settling again.

He didn’t wake.

“You really were tired,” Seijuro murmured.

He reached down and gently pulled the blanket higher over Tetsuya’s shoulders.

Another small movement.

Then stillness.

Seijuro sat on the edge of the bed.

Just for a moment.

He looked at Tetsuya.

Really looked at him.

The way he had asked to stay here for the night.

The way he seemed completely comfortable sleeping here, as though this room had quietly become somewhere safe.

Something about the sight made Seijuro’s chest feel… strange.

Not unpleasant.

Just unfamiliar.

“…What is this?”

He frowned slightly.

It wasn’t concern.

At least, not entirely.

Concern alone didn’t explain why he’d spent the entire day watching to make sure Tetsuya wasn’t putting too much weight on his ankle.

Concern didn’t explain why he’d slowed his own pace without realizing it.

Or why he’d noticed every little thing Tetsuya did.

Or why seeing him asleep in his bed felt…

Comforting.

There was a quiet knock at the half-open door.

Masaomi leaned in. “I wanted to ask if…”

He stopped.

His eyes landed on Tetsuya.

Then on Seijuro.

“…I see.”

Seijuro looked over.

“He fell asleep while waiting.”

“So I gathered.”

Masaomi smiled faintly.

“You look happy.”

“I do?”

“You’ve been smiling since I entered.”

Seijuro’s hand instinctively touched the corner of his mouth.

He hadn’t even realized.

“…I wasn’t aware.”

“I know.” Masaomi’s smile only grew gentler. “Good night, Seijuro.”

The door closed softly behind him.

The room became quiet once more.

Seijuro looked back at Tetsuya.

Then sighed almost imperceptibly.

“This is becoming troublesome.”

Not because Tetsuya was there.

That wasn’t the troublesome part.

The troublesome part…

Was that for the first time in his life, Seijuro was beginning to suspect that what he felt for Tetsuya could no longer be explained by friendship.

And he wasn’t entirely sure when that had happened.

Or if it had already happened long ago.

⸻

Seijuro didn’t figure it out that night.

He tried.

Lying awake beside Tetsuya, he attempted to assign a reason to everything that had happened over the past week.

He cared because they were friends.

That was reasonable.

He worried because Tetsuya lived alone.

Also reasonable.

He walked him home because of the sprained ankle.

Reasonable again.

He let him stay over because he didn’t want him returning to an empty apartment.

Still reasonable.

But…

Because I want to.

That wasn’t reasonable.

There hadn’t been any strategy behind those words.

He had simply meant them.

⸻

He turned his head slightly.

Tetsuya was asleep beside him.

Curled up beneath the blankets, one sleeve of the oversized hoodie had ridden up enough to reveal part of his hand, while several strands of damp blue hair had fallen across his forehead.

Without thinking, Seijuro reached over and gently brushed the strands away.

Tetsuya sighed quietly in his sleep.

Then, almost instinctively…

Moved closer.

Not much.

Just enough that his shoulder lightly rested against Seijuro’s arm.

Seijuro froze.

“…”

Tetsuya didn’t wake.

He only settled more comfortably, his breathing evening out again as though he’d unconsciously found somewhere warm.

Seijuro looked down at him.

His heartbeat felt… different.

Faster.

Not enough to be alarming.

Enough to be noticeable.

“…This is…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Because he already knew.

Or rather…

He was finally allowing himself to know.

He liked Tetsuya.

Not as a teammate.

Not simply as a friend.

Not because of their agreement.

He liked him.

The realization was strangely quiet.

There wasn’t a dramatic revelation.

No panic.

No denial.

Just a simple truth that had apparently been waiting for him to catch up.

“…I really am in trouble.”

A small laugh escaped him.

Soft enough that it wouldn’t wake anyone.

His eyes drifted to the neatly folded contract resting on his desk.

Twelve pages.

Dozens of clauses.

A carefully planned arrangement designed to solve two unrelated problems.

Not a single page mentioned what to do if one of them actually fell in love.

“How inconvenient.”

For the first time since they’d signed it, Seijuro found himself thinking that the contract had one very significant flaw.

It had an ending.

Eventually, they were supposed to tell everyone the relationship had run its course.

Eventually, they were supposed to go back to being just friends.

The thought settled heavily in his chest.

He didn’t like it.

Not even a little.

He looked back at Tetsuya.

Still asleep.

Still completely unaware that he’d somehow managed to dismantle years of Seijuro’s carefully ordered life simply by existing exactly as he always had.

“…You really are unfair.”

Tetsuya mumbled something incoherent into the pillow.

Then, without waking, lightly caught hold of the sleeve of Seijuro’s shirt.

As if making sure he wouldn’t leave.

Seijuro looked down at the hand gripping his sleeve.

He smiled.

A real one.

Small.

Warm.

Completely unforced.

“…Good night, Tetsuya.”

This time, sleep came easily.

For Seijuro, at least.

Tomorrow, he would wake up with exactly the same problem.

The only difference was that now…

He knew its name.

Chapter Text

The next morning began quietly.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale gold across the bedroom floor.

For a few peaceful seconds, Seijuro simply lay there.

Then he remembered.

…I like Tetsuya.

He stared at the ceiling.

“…This is unfortunate.”

There was no point denying it anymore.

He had spent the better part of the night trying to convince himself otherwise.

It hadn’t worked.

⸻

He turned his head.

Tetsuya was still asleep.

At some point during the night, he’d somehow ended up much closer than before.

One hand still loosely held onto the sleeve of Seijuro’s shirt.

His breathing was slow and even, completely unaware of the crisis taking place a few inches away.

Seijuro looked at the hand for a long moment.

Then, very carefully, he slipped his sleeve free without waking him.

Or…

He tried.

The moment the fabric moved, Tetsuya frowned slightly in his sleep.

“…Mm…”

His hand searched for a second.

Then found Seijuro’s wrist instead.

And held onto it.

“…” Seijuro blinked. “You’re doing this unconsciously.”

Tetsuya, naturally, offered no response.

He was asleep.

Very asleep.

Seijuro sighed quietly.

“…I suppose this is my fault.”

He stayed exactly where he was.

There was no reason to wake him.

Not when he looked so comfortable.

⸻

A knock came from the door.

Three gentle taps.

“Seijuro?”

It was Masaomi.

“…Come in.”

The door opened just enough for Masaomi to peek inside.

He had clearly intended to say something.

Instead, he stopped.

His eyes drifted to Tetsuya.

Then to Seijuro.

Then to Tetsuya’s hand wrapped loosely around Seijuro’s wrist.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“…Good morning.”

“Good morning, Father.”

“I was going to ask whether you’d both like breakfast.”

“I assume that’s no longer your first question.”

“…No.”

Masaomi chuckled. “I’ll have it ready downstairs.”

He began closing the door.

Then paused.

“…Seijuro.”

“Yes?”

“He’s holding onto you.”

“…I’m aware.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

Seijuro was quiet.

“…I don’t.”

Masaomi’s smile softened. “I noticed.”

The door closed.

⸻

Nearly fifteen minutes later…

Tetsuya stirred.

His eyes opened slowly.

He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling.

Then at the room.

Then…

At Seijuro.

“…Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“…Did I oversleep?”

“By twelve minutes.”

“I see.”

Tetsuya sat up.

Then looked down.

Only then did he notice his hand still loosely holding Seijuro’s wrist.

He stared at it.

Then calmly let go.

“…Sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Did I do that while I was asleep?”

“You did.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“…Were you stuck?”

“A little.”

Tetsuya looked thoughtful.

“Why didn’t you move?”

Seijuro answered honestly. “…You looked comfortable.”

Tetsuya blinked.

“…Oh.”

That was all he said.

Just…

“Oh.”

He climbed out of bed, stretching slightly before fixing the sleeves of the oversized hoodie.

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You’ve already thanked me.”

“…I’ll probably thank you again.”

“I expected as much.”

For a moment, they simply looked at one another.

Comfortable.

Quiet.

Easy.

Neither of them noticed they were smiling.

⸻

Downstairs…

Masaomi looked up from his newspaper as they entered the dining room.

He took one look at the two of them.

Then smiled into his tea.

“…You both seem well-rested.”

“We are,” Seijuro replied.

Tetsuya nodded. “…I slept well.”

“I’m glad.”

Masaomi gestured toward the table.

“Come eat.”

As the two boys sat beside one another, Masaomi couldn’t help but notice something.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing obvious.

Just…

Seijuro poured Tetsuya a cup of tea before pouring his own.

Without thinking.

Without being asked.

Masaomi hid another smile behind his teacup.

Some things, it seemed…

Were becoming habits.

And habits had a way of turning into forever before anyone noticed.

Chapter Text

The agreement had become... easy.

Too easy.

Holding hands in the hallway.

Walking home together.

Eating dinner across from one another.

Studying late into the evening.

Sleeping under the same roof.

At some point, pretending had stopped feeling like pretending.

Neither of them noticed when it happened.

⸻

A week later, Teikō buzzed with the same rumors it always had.

"They're eating lunch together again."

"I heard Akashi-kun walked Kuroko-kun home yesterday."

"They're kind of adorable..."

"...Must be nice."

The whispers barely reached Tetsuya anymore.

He'd grown used to them.

⸻

"...Tetsu-kun."

Momoi slid into the seat beside him during lunch.

"You've been smiling more."

Tetsuya blinked. "...Have I?"

"A little."

He thought about it.

"Maybe."

"You seem happier."

There was a long pause.

"...I think I am."

"I'm glad." Momoi smiled softly. "...It's strange."

"How so?"

Tetsuya looked out the classroom window.

"When I go home now, sometimes I wish I were going to the Akashi estate instead."

Momoi's smile faltered.

"...Oh."

"It's quieter at my apartment. More... lonelier."

He said it so simply.

Like it was just another observation.

"When I'm there, I find myself wondering what Akashi-kun is doing."

A pause.

"...Whether he's had dinner. Whether he's finished his homework or if he's gone to sleep yet."

Momoi stared.

"...Tetsu-kun."

"Yes?"

"How often do you think about him?"

Tetsuya answered immediately.

"Quite often."

"More than basketball?"

He stopped.

Actually stopped.

For nearly ten seconds.

"..."

"Tetsu-kun?"

"...I..."

He frowned.

"...I don't know."

That answer unsettled him more than he expected.

Basketball had always come first.

Always.

So why...

"I'm glad."

That afternoon, Seijuro found himself standing alone outside the gym.

The folded agreement rested in his bag.

He had read it again that morning.

Clause 14.

This arrangement shall end once its purpose has been fulfilled.

He hated that sentence.

Not because it was unreasonable.

Because it was.

Eventually his father would stop arranging meetings.

Eventually the rumors would die down.

Eventually...

They would have to break up.

Fake break up.

And Tetsuya would probably smile politely and say,

"Thank you, Akashi-kun. This arrangement was very helpful."

Then he'd go home.

Back to his apartment.

Back to being just friends.

The thought made Seijuro's chest tighten.

"...This wasn't supposed to happen."

He had agreed to a fake relationship.

Not one where every day made the ending harder to imagine.

"I'm glad."

"...Akashi-kun?"

Seijuro looked up.

Tetsuya was standing a few feet away.

"You've been staring at that paper for a while."

"...Have I?"

"Yes."

Tetsuya walked over.

"Is something wrong?"

Seijuro looked at him.

Really looked at him.

The person he'd accidentally fallen in love with.

The person who trusted him completely.

The person who still believed this was all an act.

"...Nothing."

It was the first lie he'd ever regretted telling Tetsuya.

Because for the first time...

Seijuro wished the agreement had never existed.

Not because he wanted to stop pretending.

Because he wanted to stop pretending it was pretend.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, Seijuro decided on exactly one thing.

He wouldn't confess.

It wasn't because he was afraid of rejection.

It wasn't because he doubted his own feelings.

It was because Tetsuya had trusted him.

Trusted him enough to agree to a fake relationship.

Trusted him enough to move into his home.

Trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him without a second thought.

If Seijuro confessed now...

Would Tetsuya wonder whether any of it had truly been fake?

Would he think Seijuro had only agreed to the arrangement because he'd liked him from the beginning?

The thought alone was enough to stop him.

"...Not yet," he murmured to himself.

⸻

The following Monday, Tetsuya walked into the classroom carrying two cartons of milk.

He stopped beside Seijuro's desk.

"...Akashi-kun."

Seijuro looked up from the book he had been reading.

"Good morning."

"I bought the wrong flavor."

He placed one of the cartons on Seijuro's desk.

"...Would you like it?"

"Thank you."

"It expires tomorrow."

"I'll make sure it doesn't."

"Good."

Then Tetsuya walked away as if he hadn't just made Seijuro's entire morning.

Seijuro stared at the milk for several seconds.

"...This is becoming ridiculous."

⸻

That afternoon, practice ended later than usual.

The gym slowly emptied until only Seijuro and Tetsuya remained, putting away equipment together.

Neither of them minded staying behind.

In fact...

They had quietly fallen into the habit of it.

Seijuro wheeled the ball cart toward the storage room while Tetsuya stacked the remaining cones.

"We're getting faster," Tetsuya observed.

"...At what?"

"Cleaning. Practice. Walking home."

He paused.

"...Being together."

The last sentence escaped before he realized what he'd said.

Tetsuya blinked.

"I meant—"

"I know what you meant," Seijuro replied gently.

Silence settled between them.

Not awkward.

Just thoughtful.

⸻

As they left the gym together, their hands brushed for only a second.

Usually, one of them would instinctively reach for the other's hand.

It had become part of the act.

Something they barely thought about anymore.

Today...

Neither of them moved.

Both hesitated.

For the first time.

Because both of them were thinking the exact same thing.

If I reach for his hand now...

Is it still pretending?

The space between their hands suddenly felt impossibly noticeable.

Neither spoke.

Neither reached.

Until...

Without looking at him, Tetsuya quietly closed the distance.

His fingers slipped into Seijuro's.

Gentently.

Naturally.

As though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

"...People are watching," he said softly.

It was the excuse.

The same excuse they'd used dozens of times before.

Seijuro knew it.

Tetsuya knew it.

But...

For some reason...

Neither of them quite believed it anymore.

Seijuro gently intertwined their fingers.

"...Right."

The word came out almost as quietly as a confession.

They continued walking side by side through the school grounds.

Neither letting go.

Neither willing to admit that, somewhere along the way...

Holding hands had stopped being part of the performance.

And had quietly become something they both looked forward to.

Chapter Text

That evening, the agreement sat between them.

Literally.

The folder containing their fake dating contract rested in the middle of Seijuro's desk while the two of them worked through their homework in silence.

Neither of them acknowledged it.

Neither of them moved it.

Yet both of them looked at it more than once.

It was strange.

A stack of ordinary papers had somehow become the biggest obstacle in the room.

"...Tetsuya."

"Yes?"

Seijuro tapped his pencil lightly against the desk.

"...Do you remember why we made this agreement?"

Tetsuya nodded. "Your father wanted you to meet the daughters and sons of several business partners."

"And your friends kept trying to introduce you to people."

"...Yes."

"It solved both problems."

"...It did."

A quiet silence followed.

Neither of them continued writing.

"...Do you think," Tetsuya began carefully, "...everyone still believes we're dating?"

"They do."

"...We've become rather convincing."

"We have."

Tetsuya smiled faintly.

"Kise-kun cried yesterday because he thought we'd had an argument."

Seijuro let out a small laugh.

"I heard."

"He tried to mediate."

"He was remarkably unhelpful."

"...He usually is."

For a moment, they laughed together.

The sound faded almost as quickly as it came.

Tetsuya's eyes drifted back to the folder.

"...Eventually..."

Seijuro already knew what he was going to ask.

"...We'll have to tell them, won't we?"

"Yes."

"...That we broke up."

"...Yes."

The word felt heavier than it should have.

It was supposed to be fake.

Everything about this relationship was supposed to be fake.

So why...

Why did imagining the end hurt?

"...It'll probably be awkward," Tetsuya said quietly.

"A little."

"...Momoi will be upset."

"She will."

"...Kise-kun might actually cry."

"He most certainly will."

"Aomine-kun will pretend he doesn't care."

"Yet he'll ask questions later."

"...Midorima-kun will say he expected it."

"Even if he didn't."

"Murasakibara-kun will probably ask if we're still sharing snacks."

A faint smile appeared on Seijuro's face.

"...That sounds like him."

Their smiles faded.

Neither of them laughed this time.

"...We'll still be friends."

The sentence came from Tetsuya.

Softly.

As though he were trying to reassure both of them.

Seijuro looked at him.

"Of course."

"Nothing has to change."

"No."

Another silence.

Longer than the last.

Because they both knew...

Everything would change.

No more walking home together because there would be no reason.

No more holding hands in the hallways.

No more excuses to stay over.

No more sharing one side of the lunch table because appearances mattered.

No more small moments hidden inside an agreement.

Just...

Friends.

The word suddenly felt very far away from what they had become.

Tetsuya lowered his eyes to the contract.

"...It's strange."

"What is?"

"When we signed this, I thought pretending to date would be difficult."

He smiled to himself.

"...It wasn't."

"No."

"Pretending was easy."

His fingers lightly brushed the edge of the folder.

"...Stopping..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't have to.

Seijuro understood.

Far too well.

"...Yes," he said quietly."...I think that will be the difficult part."

For the first time since the agreement began...

Neither of them wanted it to end.

Neither of them knew the other felt exactly the same.

And the contract remained on the desk between them.

A promise that had once brought them together.

Now quietly counting down to the day it would force them apart.

Chapter Text

The following week, nothing changed.

Which, somehow, made everything worse.

They still walked to school together.

Still ate lunch together.

Still studied in Seijuro's room after practice.

Still held hands whenever they passed through crowded hallways because it was what their "boyfriends" were expected to do.

From the outside...

Nothing had changed.

From the inside...

Everything had.

⸻

Seijuro had become painfully aware of every small touch.

The brush of Tetsuya's shoulder against his during class.

The way their hands naturally found each other before either of them consciously decided to reach out.

The quiet "good morning" that somehow became his favorite part of every day.

None of those things were supposed to matter.

Yet they did.

Far more than they should have.

⸻

For Tetsuya...

It was different.

He couldn't name what he was feeling.

He only knew that something warm had begun settling quietly inside his chest.

It wasn't loud.

It didn't happen all at once.

It simply grew a little more every day.

Whenever Seijuro smiled at him.

Whenever he waited outside the classroom so they could walk together.

Whenever he remembered something small, like which milk Tetsuya preferred or which novels he hadn't read yet.

It felt...

Nice.

Comfortable.

Safe.

Tetsuya liked that feeling.

He found himself wanting more of it.

⸻

"...Akashi-kun."

"Hm?"

They were walking home beneath a sky stained orange with the setting sun.

"Can I ask another strange question?"

A small laugh escaped Seijuro.

"You ask quite a few."

"I know."

"What is it?"

Tetsuya looked ahead instead of at him.

"...Do you ever wish this wasn't fake?"

Seijuro stopped walking.

The question hit him so suddenly that, for a brief moment, he forgot how to answer.

Tetsuya noticed and immediately shook his head.

"...Sorry. You don't have to answer."

"...Why do you ask?"

"I was only wondering because..."

He hesitated.

"...Sometimes I forget."

Seijuro's heart sank.

"Forget?"

"...That we're pretending."

The words were quiet.

Honest.

"I'll catch myself reaching for your hand... or looking for you after practice. And then I remember."

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It's only because we're dating."

He paused.

"...Fake dating."

The correction hurt more than either of them expected.

Seijuro forced himself to smile.

"...Yes. Fake dating."

He hated those two words.

He had never hated any words before.

⸻

They continued walking.

Neither of them reached for the other's hand this time.

Not because they didn't want to.

Because they both wanted to know...

If they reached for it now...

Would it be because of the agreement?

Or because they simply wanted to?

Neither of them could answer.

So they kept walking with a few inches between them.

The distance felt far greater than it was.

⸻

That night, after Tetsuya had fallen asleep in the guest room he'd started using more often, Seijuro quietly unfolded the agreement again.

His eyes settled on the final page.

Two signatures.

One belonging to Akashi Seijuro.

The other to Kuroko Tetsuya.

They had signed it believing it would protect them.

Instead...

It had become the one thing preventing either of them from saying what they truly wanted.

Seijuro closed the folder.

"...How ironic."

He had entered a fake relationship to avoid expectations.

Now he was trapped by one he had created himself.

Across the hallway, Tetsuya lay awake staring at the ceiling.

Unable to sleep.

He gently touched the center of his chest.

That warm feeling was there again.

Growing.

Slowly.

Quietly.

He still didn't know what it was.

But for some reason...

The thought that one day he would have to stop pretending to be Seijuro's boyfriend made it ache.

And he couldn't understand why.

Chapter Text

A few days later, the rumors took an unexpected turn.

"I heard Akashi-kun is taking Kuroko-kun on a date this weekend."

"...Really?"

"They've been dating for months now. It's about time."

"They're so cute."

Tetsuya blinked as he walked past the group of girls in the hallway.

"...A date?"

Seijuro, walking beside him, sighed almost imperceptibly.

"It would appear so."

"...We haven't planned one."

"No."

"...Should we?"

Seijuro looked at him.

"Probably."

⸻

By lunch, the rumor had somehow spread to the entire school.

Kise nearly launched himself across the cafeteria.

"YOU TWO HAVE TO."

"Have to what?" Tetsuya asked.

"Go on a date!"

"...We already spend time together."

"THAT'S NOT THE SAME."

"It isn't?"

"No!"

Aomine looked up from his lunch.

"...Why are you yelling?"

"They've never been on an actual date!"

"...They're dating."

"EXACTLY!"

"...So?"

"SO THEY NEED TO GO ON A DATE."

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

"I agree with Kise."

"...You're agreeing with him?" Aomine asked.

"I dislike the fact that I am."

Momoi smiled into her drink.

"I think it'd be nice."

Tetsuya looked around the table. "...Is everyone in agreement?"

"...Yes," all five answered.

"I see."

⸻

Later that afternoon, Tetsuya found Seijuro organizing papers in the student council room.

"...Akashi-kun."

Seijuro looked up.

"...Tetsuya."

"...It appears we have to go on a date."

"It appears we do."

Silence.

"...Have you ever been on one?"

"No."

"...Neither have I."

"I thought as much."

Tetsuya nodded thoughtfully.

"Then neither of us knows what we're doing."

"Correct."

"...Should we research it?"

Seijuro smiled.

"...That would be the logical approach."

"Alright."

⸻

An hour later...

They were sitting in the library.

Surrounded by books.

Not because there were books about dating.

Because neither of them wanted to be interrupted.

Tetsuya had borrowed a magazine from the school library.

"...It says couples usually hold hands."

Seijuro looked at him.

"...We already do."

"That's true. It also says they watch movies."

"We've done that."

"Eat together."

"We've done that as well."

"Walk home together."

"...Every day."

Tetsuya turned another page.

"Exchange clothes."

Seijuro's ears warmed ever so slightly.

"...You've borrowed my hoodie. Several times."

"Staying over."

"Quite often recently."

Tetsuya slowly lowered the magazine.

"...Akashi-kun."

"Yes?"

"...I think we've accidentally been going on dates."

Seijuro stared at him.

"...Akashi-kun?"

"I believe you're right."

Another silence settled between them.

Longer this time.

Neither knew what to do with that realization.

Because if everything they'd been doing already counted as dates...

Then why had neither of them questioned how happy it made them?

⸻

"...This weekend won't really be our first date."

Tetsuya spoke so quietly Seijuro almost missed it.

"...No. It'll just be the first one where we admit it's a date."

"Yes."

Tetsuya smiled faintly.

"That's... nice."

Seijuro smiled too.

"...It is."

Neither of them noticed that neither had said the word fake even once during that conversation.

For the first time...

It had simply been...

A date.

And somehow...

That frightened both of them more than either was willing to admit.

Chapter Text

Saturday arrived sooner than either of them expected.

Neither had said much about it during the week.

There hadn’t been a plan.

Only…

“…Ten o’clock?” Seijuro had asked.

“That works,” Tetsuya had replied.

And somehow, that had been enough.

⸻

The morning was unusually warm.

Tetsuya stood outside the front gates of the Akashi estate, checking the time on his phone.

10:00.

Almost immediately, the gates opened.

Seijuro stepped outside.

He wasn’t wearing his Teikō uniform.

Just a simple cream sweater, dark trousers, and a light coat.

For a moment, Tetsuya simply looked at him.

“…You look different.”

Seijuro glanced down at himself.

“I changed clothes.”

“I can see.”

“…Is something wrong with them?”

Tetsuya shook his head.

“No.”

A small pause.

“…They suit you.”

Seijuro smiled.

“…Thank you.”

For some reason…

Neither of them knew what to say after that.

⸻

The city was quieter on weekends.

They wandered without much of a destination.

A bookstore.

A small café.

A music shop that Seijuro insisted on visiting “for only a minute,” which turned into nearly half an hour.

Tetsuya didn’t mind.

He never seemed to mind when he was with Seijuro.

⸻

Around noon, they stopped beside the river.

A gentle breeze rippled across the water.

People walked past them in pairs.

Families.

Friends.

Couples.

Tetsuya leaned against the railing.

“…It’s peaceful.”

“It is.”

“…I’m glad we came.”

“So am I.”

Another comfortable silence.

The kind they had become very good at sharing.

“…Akashi-kun.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask something?”

“You’ve developed quite a habit.”

“…I know.”

Seijuro laughed quietly.

“What is it?”

Tetsuya watched the water below.

“…Do you ever forget?”

“Forget what?”

“That this is supposed to be fake.”

Seijuro’s smile disappeared.

Not suddenly.

Just…

Quietly.

He looked at the river instead.

“…Sometimes.”

It was the truth.

Not the whole truth.

But enough of it.

Tetsuya nodded.

“…Me too.”

Seijuro’s heart skipped.

“…I’m not sure what to say.”

“Akashi-kun… sometimes I’ll be talking to someone and they’ll mention that you’re my boyfriend.”

A pause.

“…For a second, I don’t think to correct them.”

He smiled faintly.

“Then I remember, it’s only temporary.”

The last three words came out almost in a whisper.

⸻

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

The breeze continued drifting past.

Somewhere nearby, children laughed.

Life carried on around them.

Yet it felt as though the world had narrowed to the space between them.

⸻

Without thinking, Tetsuya reached for Seijuro’s hand.

Their fingers intertwined naturally.

It happened so effortlessly that neither of them realized it at first.

Then…

Tetsuya looked down.

“…There isn’t anyone watching.”

Seijuro followed his gaze.

Their hands.

Still together.

He could have let go.

He didn’t.

“…No,” he said softly. “…There isn’t.”

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them loosened their grip.

Because neither wanted to be the first.

⸻

Tetsuya stared quietly at their intertwined fingers.

“…Akashi-kun.”

“Yes?”

“If no one was around…” He hesitated. “…Would you still hold my hand?”

The question caught Seijuro completely off guard.

He looked at Tetsuya.

At the hopeful expression he didn’t seem to realize he was wearing.

Then back at their hands.

There were a dozen safe answers.

A dozen careful ones.

Instead…

“…Yes.”

The word escaped before he could stop it.

Simple.

Immediate.

Honest.

Tetsuya’s fingers tightened ever so slightly around his.

“I think…”

He lowered his eyes.

“…I would too.”

Neither of them said anything after that.

They simply stood there beside the river.

Holding hands.

With no audience.

No rumors to maintain.

No agreement to perform.

And for the first time…

Neither of them could tell where pretending had ended.

Chapter Text

Neither of them let go.

The river flowed quietly beneath the bridge.

The afternoon breeze carried the distant laughter of children playing somewhere in the park.

It should have been peaceful.

Instead, Seijuro’s thoughts had never been louder.

Their hands were still intertwined.

There was no audience.

No classmates hiding behind bushes.

No rumors to feed.

No reason.

Yet neither of them had moved.

“…Tetsuya.”

“Yes?”

Seijuro looked down at their hands before meeting Tetsuya’s eyes again.

“We’re alone.”

“We are.”

“…You know we don’t have to keep pretending.”

Tetsuya’s fingers loosened ever so slightly.

“I know.”

“Then why are you still holding my hand?”

Silence.

Tetsuya lowered his gaze.

He searched for an answer.

A logical one.

Something that fit neatly inside the agreement they had written months ago.

He couldn’t find one.

“I...” His voice was barely above a whisper. “…I don’t want to let go.”

Seijuro felt his heart skip.

“…Neither do I.”

The words hung between them.

Neither could take them back now.

⸻

For a long moment, they simply looked at one another.

Then Tetsuya laughed.

Very quietly.

“…We’re not very good at fake dating anymore.”

A small smile appeared on Seijuro’s face.

“No.”

“I think we forgot where pretending ended.”

“I think so too.”

Tetsuya looked down again.

“…I’ve been trying to understand what’s been happening to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“…When you’re around, everything feels calmer.”

Tetsuya continued.

“…I want to tell you about my day before anyone else.”

A beat passed.

“I like walking home with you. I like staying at your house. I like wearing your hoodies.”

A faint blush crept onto his cheeks.

“…I even like when you worry about me.” He laughed at himself. “That one still doesn’t make much sense.”

Seijuro smiled softly.

“It does to me.”

Tetsuya took a slow breath.

“…And every time I remember this relationship is supposed to end…”

He stopped.

His voice caught for the first time.

“…My chest hurts. I don’t want it to end.”

The confession was so simple.

No dramatic speeches.

Just the truth.

⸻

Seijuro stepped a little closer.

“So does mine.”

Tetsuya looked up.

“…Your chest?”

A quiet laugh escaped Seijuro.

“The relationship.”

“Oh.”

“…Though perhaps both.”

Tetsuya smiled.

A real smile.

One that reached his eyes.

“I’ve been afraid,” Seijuro admitted. “Afraid that if I told you how I felt, you would think I agreed to our arrangement because I already loved you.”

Seijuro looked towards the sky.

“I didn’t. I only realized it afterward.”

A soft smile reached the redhead’s lips.

“Somewhere between walking you home, watching you fall asleep in my room, and hearing you thank me for letting you stay.”

He shook his head with a small, almost embarrassed smile.

“I don’t know exactly when it happened. I only know that one day… I couldn’t imagine the agreement ending anymore.”

Tetsuya stared at him.

“…You…”

His voice was quiet.

“…Love me?”

Seijuro nodded.

“I do. I didn’t intend for it to happen. But…”

He gently squeezed Tetsuya’s hand.

“…I love you.”

Tetsuya stood perfectly still.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Seijuro prepared himself for silence.

For confusion.

For rejection.

Instead…

“…I’ve never been in love before.”

Tetsuya looked down at their hands.

“So I didn’t know what it was.”

He briefly closed his eyes.

“I thought… maybe everyone felt this way around someone they were pretending to date.”

A tiny, sheepish smile appeared.

“…Looking back, that was a rather strange conclusion.”

“It was,” Seijuro agreed, smiling.

Tetsuya looked back up.

His blue eyes were impossibly gentle.

“I think… no.”

He shook his head.

“I know.”

He took one small step forward until there was barely any space between them.

“I love you too, Seijuro.”

The words were quiet.

Certain.

They carried none of the uncertainty that had followed them for weeks.

Only relief.

⸻

Seijuro smiled.

Not the polite smile he wore at school.

Not the composed smile expected of the heir to the Akashi family.

Just…

Seijuro’s smile.

Warm.

Bright.

Completely unguarded.

“…Then I suppose we have a problem.”

Tetsuya tilted his head.

“…Do we?”

“Our relationship.”

Tetsuya blinked. “…What about it?”

“It’s no longer fake.”

Tetsuya thought about that.

Then, after a moment, he nodded.

“…You’re right.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“…We should probably rewrite the contract.”

This time, they both laughed.

Not because anything was funny.

Because, after months of pretending…

Neither of them had to anymore.

Chapter Text

The confession still hung in the air, like the world had paused just to see what they’d do with it.

Neither of them moved away.

The river kept flowing below them. People kept walking past.

“…So,” Tetsuya said quietly, still holding Seijuro’s hand, “what do we do now?”

Seijuro didn’t answer immediately.

Not because he didn’t know.

Because nothing he did know felt useful anymore.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

A beat.

“…That’s rare,” Tetsuya said.

“It is.”

And his hand still didn’t let go.

That was the important part.

Tetsuya glanced down at their fingers again, then back up at Seijuro like he was trying to solve a problem that didn’t follow math rules.

“…We’re not pretending anymore.”

“No,” Seijuro said softly. “We’re not.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

Except neither of them felt like anything had ended.

Only shifted.

Tetsuya took a small step closer.

Just one.

Like he was testing whether reality would reject him for it.

“…Akashi-kun.”

A pause.

“…Seijuro,” he corrected, quieter now.

Tetsuya blinked once.

Then, obediently—

“…Seijuro.”

Something in Seijuro’s expression broke, just slightly. Not visibly to anyone else, but enough that Tetsuya noticed anyway.

“…Say it again,” Seijuro murmured.

“Your name?”

“Yes.”

“…Seijuro.”

That did it.

Whatever careful restraint Seijuro had been maintaining finally gave up without filing a formal resignation.

His grip on Tetsuya’s hand tightened slightly, like he was anchoring himself to something real.

“Can I—” he started.

He stopped.

Frowned faintly at himself.

“…This is inefficient.”

Tetsuya tilted his head.

“What is?”

“…Asking.”

That earned him a quiet look.

“Then don’t.”

Silence.

Just long enough for the decision to stop being a decision.

Seijuro moved first.

Not suddenly. Not urgently.

Just like he’d already decided and was simply catching up to his own courage.

Tetsuya didn’t step back.

He could have.

He didn’t.

The kiss was soft at first, almost careful, like Seijuro was still half convinced the moment might disappear if handled incorrectly.

But Tetsuya stayed.

So Seijuro did too.

A little longer.

A little closer.

Until “careful” stopped being necessary.

Not rushed.

Not dramatic.

Just real in a way neither of them had written into their contract.

When Seijuro finally pulled back, it was only enough to breathe.

Tetsuya blinked slowly, like his brain was still catching up to what just happened.

“…So that’s what that is,” he said.

Seijuro let out a quiet breath that almost turned into a laugh.

“Yes.”

A pause.

Then Tetsuya added, completely serious:

“…I understand why people do that.”

That made Seijuro actually smile.

“…Do you?”

“I think so.”

Another beat.

“…We should probably revise the agreement,” Tetsuya said.

“There's no agreement for this,” Seijuro replied.

Tetsuya considered that.

“That's true.”

“Very.”

Neither of them stepped back.

Neither of them needed to.

Because whatever this had started as…

It definitely wasn’t fake anymore.

Chapter Text

The mansion was quiet in that familiar, expensive way that made everything feel slower than it actually was.

Seijuro and Tetsuya stood in the study doorway longer than necessary.

Not because they were unsure.

Because, for once, there was no contract to hide behind.

No excuse labeled “fake.”

Just reality.

“…Father,” Seijuro said at last.

Masaomi looked up from his desk, calm as always.

“Yes?”

A pause.

Tetsuya spoke first, voice steady but softer than usual.

“…We need to tell you something.”

Masaomi nodded once.

“I assume this is about your relationship.”

Seijuro blinked. “…You assume correctly.”

Masaomi closed the folder he was holding.

“Has something changed?”

Silence.

Seijuro glanced at Tetsuya.

Tetsuya glanced back.

Then Seijuro said, carefully,

“…Yes.”

Masaomi exhaled gently, like a man confirming something he had already accounted for in his schedule.

“I see.”

Tetsuya hesitated. “…You’re not surprised?”

“I would be if this were sudden,” Masaomi replied.

“…But it's not.”

Seijuro frowned slightly.

“What do you mean?”

Masaomi leaned back in his chair.

“You’ve been together for months.”

Tetsuya stiffened.

Seijuro stayed still.

Masaomi continued, completely unbothered by the tension forming in the room. “I expected developments eventually.”

“…Developments,” Seijuro repeated flatly.

“Yes,” Masaomi said, as if that explained everything.

Tetsuya’s voice came out a little cautious.

“…You thought we were… actually dating.”

Masaomi looked at him like the question was odd.

“But you are actually dating.”

Silence.

Not the thoughtful kind.

The kind where two teenagers realize an entire foundational misunderstanding has been quietly accepted as fact by an adult with authority.

Seijuro spoke first.

“…Father.”

“Yes?”

“…We never told you this was real.”

Masaomi blinked. “You didn’t need to.”

That made things worse.

Tetsuya looked between them.

“…You didn’t ask.”

Masaomi’s expression remained calm.

“Because there was no reason to assume otherwise.”

Seijuro pressed a hand to his temple. “…That's not how assumptions work.”

“It is when your son brings home the same boy repeatedly, coordinates schedules around him, and refuses all arranged meetings,” Masaomi replied.

A pause.

“…Consistently.”

Tetsuya slowly lowered his gaze. “…We had a fake relationship.”

Masaomi went quiet for a moment.

Then, very gently:

“…A fake what?”

Seijuro closed his eyes.

“…It was an arrangement to stop matchmaking pressure.”

Masaomi stared at him.

“…And you didn't consider telling me this.”

“We assumed it was obvious.”

“It wasn't.”

Another pause.

Then Masaomi sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly.

“I've been believing for months that my son has been in a committed relationship.”

Seijuro didn’t respond.

Tetsuya didn’t either.

Because correcting him now would require explaining everything.

From the beginning.

Including feelings.

⸻

Masaomi looked between them again.

“…So what is this conversation actually about? Did you two break up?"

"...No."

Seijuro hesitated.

Tetsuya spoke quietly. “…It stopped being pretend.”

Silence.

That landed differently.

Masaomi slowly lowered his hand.

“…Ah.”

A beat.

Then, surprisingly calm:

“…I understand now.”

Seijuro frowned slightly.

“You do?”

Masaomi stood.

“I was wondering when you would both realize.”

Tetsuya blinked. “…Realize what?”

Masaomi’s gaze softened just a little.

“That you've been acting like an actual couple for quite some time.”

Silence again.

But this time, it wasn’t confusion.

It was realization hitting them from a different angle entirely.

Seijuro exhaled slowly.

“…So you were never concerned.”

“I was,” Masaomi corrected. “About when you would finally admit it.”

Tetsuya stared at him.

“…We thought we were hiding it well.”

Masaomi gave a faint, knowing smile. “You were. But I had my assumptions.”

A pause.

Then, more quietly:

“You were simply the last ones to notice.”

Seijuro looked at Tetsuya.

Tetsuya looked back.

Neither of them spoke.

Because somehow…

In the middle of fake dating, real feelings, and an entire contract nobody else interpreted correctly…

The only person who understood the situation from the beginning was the father who had assumed it was real.

And he had been right.

Just for entirely the wrong reasons.

Masaomi picked up his papers again, calm as ever.

“Shall I inform the household staff you will be staying for dinner together as usual?”

Seijuro answered automatically. “Yes.”

Tetsuya added, after a pause:

“…Yes.”

And just like that…

Nothing changed.

Except everything finally made sense.

Chapter Text

Seijuro’s room was quiet in the way only expensive houses managed to be quiet, where even silence felt well-maintained.

Tetsuya was sitting on the edge of the bed, still in one of Seijuro’s hoodies, sleeves covering most of his hands. Seijuro stood a few steps away, like he had briefly forgotten what he was doing there.

“This is still strange,” Tetsuya said softly.

“What is?”

“Everything.”

Seijuro gave a small, almost helpless exhale.

“That's not specific.”

Tetsuya looked up at him.

“…You kissed me earlier.”

Seijuro paused. “…Yes.”

“That's still strange.”

“…Agreed.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Seijuro stepped closer.

Not rushed.

Not hesitant either.

Just certain in a way that didn’t require overthinking anymore.

Tetsuya didn’t move away.

He never really did.

So Seijuro stopped right in front of him.

“…Is this still strange?” Seijuro asked quietly.

Tetsuya thought about it.

“A little less.”

That was apparently enough.

Seijuro leaned down, Tetsuya meeting him halfway.

The kiss this time wasn’t new anymore.

It wasn’t uncertain.

It was familiar in a way that made it worse, not better, because it meant they were already past the point of pretending it was accidental.

Tetsuya’s hand lightly caught Seijuro’s sleeve.

Seijuro’s fingers rested at his waist, steady, careful, like he still didn’t entirely trust that this was allowed.

It was quiet.

Simple.

Real.

And entirely too easy to get used to.

⸻

A sound came from the hallway.

A door opening.

Neither of them noticed immediately.

Because unfortunately, their awareness of reality had temporarily downgraded.

Then—

The door to Seijuro’s room slid open.

“…Seijuro.”

Masaomi’s voice.

Calm.

Present.

Existing.

Both of them froze instantly.

Not dramatically.

Not violently.

Just… immediate stillness, like the universe had pressed pause.

Seijuro and Tetsuya separated in perfect synchronization.

Masaomi stood in the doorway.

Looked at them. Looked at the exact distance between them. Looked at Seijuro. Looked at Tetsuya.

Then quietly stepped inside.

He adjusted his sleeve slightly.

“…I see I picked a poor time.”

Silence.

Seijuro spoke first, entirely composed despite the fact that nothing about this situation supported composure.

“…Father.”

“Yes?”

“This isn't what it looks like.”

Masaomi nodded slowly.

“…Alright.”

A pause.

Tetsuya stared at the floor like it had suddenly become extremely important.

Masaomi continued, tone still perfectly even.

“I'll assume you two are tired.”

Seijuro blinked once. “…You will?”

“Yes.”

Masaomi looked between them again.

“Try to sleep early.”

Another pause.

“…And no... unnecessary activities tonight.”

Silence.

Tetsuya slowly turned his head toward Seijuro.

Seijuro did not look at him.

Because if he did, he would lose what little composure he had left.

Masaomi gave a small nod, as if concluding a routine check.

“I'll be downstairs.”

He turned, walking out and closing the door.

⸻

The room stayed silent for a full five seconds.

Then—

Tetsuya spoke first.

“…He thinks we're doing something else.”

Seijuro stared at the door.

“…Yes.”

Tetsuya blinked. “We were just kissing.”

“…Yes.”

Another pause.

“…Why did he leave so calmly?”

Seijuro finally exhaled.

“…That's my father.”

Tetsuya nodded slowly.

“…I think I understand him less now.”

Seijuro glanced at him. “…You're not alone.”

There was a beat.

Then Tetsuya, very quietly:

“…Should we explain?”

Seijuro thought about it.

Thought about everything they would have to explain.

The fake dating contract.

The misunderstanding.

The feelings.

The fact that they had somehow reached kissing while still technically in a “clarification stage.”

He shook his head once.

“…No.”

Tetsuya considered that.

“Okay.”

Silence settled again.

This time, it was different.

Not awkward.

Just… exhausted.

Seijuro sat beside him on the bed.

Tetsuya leaned slightly against him without thinking.

Seijuro didn’t correct it.

He didn’t need to anymore.

Outside the door, footsteps faded down the hallway.

Inside the room, nothing was fixed.

Nothing was explained.

But neither of them cared enough to fix it right now.

Because for once…

Even the misunderstanding felt like it belonged to them.

Chapter Text

It was Monday.

The GOM were gathered in the usual completely chaotic arrangement that somehow still counted as “lunch.”

Kise was talking too loudly.

Aomine was pretending he wasn’t listening.

Midorima was judging everyone from a moral high ground no one asked for.

Murasakibara was opening a bag of chips.

Momoi was halfway through writing something on her phone.

Tetsuya sat calmly in the middle of it all.

Seijuro wasn't present.

⸻

“So,” Tetsuya said quietly.

All five heads turned toward him at once.

“…I need to clarify something.”

Aomine squinted.

“Whenever you say that, it’s never normal.”

“It is normal,” Tetsuya replied.

Kise leaned forward.

“Is this about you and Akashicchi??”

Tetsuya nodded. “Yes.”

Instant silence.

Even Aomine stopped chewing.

⸻

Tetsuya continued, completely unbothered by the emotional damage he was about to cause.

“…Our relationship was originally fake.”

Murasakibara froze.

"...What?"

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

“…I knew it.”

“No, you didn't,” Aomine snapped.

“I did,” Midorima said.

“You literally said they were ‘statistically likely to be incompatible.’”

“That's not the same as not knowing.”

Kise was already leaning forward like his soul had left his body.

“FAKE??”

“Yes.”

Momoi blinked. “…Wait.”

She looked at Tetsuya carefully.

“…So the whole time?”

“Yes.”

Kise looked like he might physically combust.

“SO THE HOLDING HANDS WAS FAKE?? THE HOODIE THING?? THE—”

“…That part was real sometimes,” Tetsuya added.

That didn't help.

⸻
Aomine leaned back.

“…So you two were pretending to date?”

“Yes.”

“For what?”

Tetsuya thought about it.

“…Convenience.”

“That is the most Akashi answer I’ve ever heard,” Aomine muttered.

Murasakibara blinked.

"So, did you and Aka-chin break up then?"

"No."

Momoi slowly lowered her phone.

“…Then what?”

Tetsuya paused.

Just slightly.

“…Now it's not fake anymore.”

The table went dead silent again.

Even Kise stopped moving.

⸻

“…Come again?” Aomine said carefully.

Tetsuya blinked. “…We're dating for real now.”

Kise made a noise that shouldn't have come from a human being.

Midorima looked away like he was trying to accept a mathematical error.

Murasakibara put the bag of chips down, covering his face with his hands.

Momoi covered her mouth.

“…Tetsu-kun…”

“Yes?”

“…That’s actually… really sweet.”

Aomine pointed at her.

“WHY ARE YOU THE ONLY NORMAL ONE HERE??”

⸻

Then—

The air shifted.

Not dramatically.

Just… suddenly.

Like someone had entered the room and reality had decided to behave differently.

The GOM all turned their heads at once.

Seijuro had arrived.

Perfect timing.

He walked past them calmly, stopping directly beside Tetsuya.

Tetsuya looked up.

“…Seijuro.”

“Mm.”

A beat.

Everyone watched.

Nobody breathed correctly.

⸻

Seijuro reached down, tilting Tetsuya’s head slightly upward with two fingers.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tetsuya didn’t move away.

Didn’t question it.

Just… accepted it.

And then—

Seijuro kissed him.

Quick.

Certain.

Not performative.

Not hesitant.

Just real.

Right in front of everyone.

⸻

The entire table broke.

Kise fell backward in his chair.

Aomine choked on air.

Murasakibara sighed.

Midorima looked like he had just been proven wrong by the universe itself.

Momoi slowly sank lower into her seat, smiling like she had won something.

⸻

Seijuro pulled back, looking at Tetsuya.

“…Did you eat?”

Tetsuya blinked.

“…I did.”

“Good.”

And then Seijuro turned and walked away like he hadn't just made the entire table combust.

⸻

There was a long silence.

Then Aomine finally spoke.

“…I hate both of them.”

Kise, still on the floor:

“…They’re in love.”

Murasakibara frowned.

"I can still have the food you guys don't eat on dates, right?"

Midorima adjusted his glasses again.

“I should've anticipated this.”

Momoi smiled softly.

“…I did.”

And Tetsuya, still sitting there, touched his lips slightly and said nothing at all.

Because for once…

There was nothing left to clarify.

Chapter Text

The news spread through Teikō faster than anyone expected.

Mostly because Kise told literally everyone within the hour.

The shock of discovering their relationship had started as fake quickly faded, replaced by the excitement that the two boys were now really dating.

“We were the first to know!” Kise beamed.

“No,” Aomine replied. “you were the loudest.”

⸻

Practice that afternoon was…

Distracting.

Not because Seijuro or Tetsuya were acting differently.

Quite the opposite.

They acted exactly the same.

Which somehow made everyone even more aware that all of those little moments they had been watching for months…

Hadn’t been fake after all.

⸻

Coach Shirogane blew his whistle.

“Five-minute water break.”

The team immediately scattered.

Tetsuya had barely sat down on the bench when Seijuro walked over carrying two water bottles.

Without saying a word, he held one out.

“…Thank you.”

“You didn’t drink enough during the scrimmage.”

Tetsuya blinked. “…You noticed?”

“You were focused on passing.”

“I usually am.”

“You still forgot.”

Tetsuya accepted the bottle.

“Thank you.”

Across the gym…

Kise whispered loudly, “HE BROUGHT HIM WATER.”

Aomine looked at him.

“…People do that.”

“AKASHICCHI BROUGHT HIM WATER.”

“…Still people.”

⸻

A few minutes later, practice resumed.

The first years were running a passing drill on the opposite side of the court.

One of them threw a pass far too hard.

The basketball bounced off the floor at an awkward angle and rolled straight toward Tetsuya’s legs.

Before Tetsuya could react…

Seijuro stepped in front of him.

The ball bounced harmlessly against Seijuro’s shoe.

The gym fell quiet.

The first year turned pale.

“…S-Sorry, Captain!”

“It’s fine,” Seijuro replied calmly. “Be more aware of your surroundings next time.”

“…Y-Yes!”

Tetsuya looked at him.

“…I could’ve moved.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you?”

Seijuro answered as though it were obvious.

“Because I was closer.”

Tetsuya wasn’t entirely convinced.

Neither was anyone else.

⸻

Later, while everyone stretched after practice…

Tetsuya was sitting on the floor trying to retie his shoelace.

He frowned slightly.

“…It came undone again.”

Before he could reach for it…

Someone knelt beside him.

Seijuro.

Without a word, he took the loose lace and tied it neatly.

Double-knotted.

Perfectly even.

Tetsuya stared.

“…Seijuro.”

“Hm?”

“I know how to tie my shoes.”

“I know.”

“…Then why?”

“You’ve tied it three times today.”

“…I have?”

“You have.”

“Oh.”

Seijuro finished the knot before looking up.

“There.”

“Thank you.”

⸻

“…This is unbelievable,” Aomine muttered from across the gym.

Midorima nodded once.

“He’s become worse.”

“Worse?”

“…More affectionate.”

Murasakibara sighed.

“As long as they get food on their dates.”

Kise had tears in his eyes. “IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL.”

⸻

Practice finally ended.

Everyone was packing up.

Tetsuya had just slung his bag over his shoulder when Seijuro appeared beside him.

“Your collar.”

Tetsuya looked down.

“…What about it?”

“It’s folded.”

Before Tetsuya could respond…

Seijuro reached out and carefully straightened it.

His fingers brushed lightly against Tetsuya’s neck, lingering before moving away.

Tetsuya immediately stiffened.

“…S-Seijuro.”

“Hm?”

“We’re at school.”

“I noticed.”

“Everyone’s looking.”

“I noticed that as well.”

“…Then…”

Seijuro smiled ever so slightly. “…Is there a problem?”

Tetsuya glanced around the gym.

Every single person nearby was pretending not to stare.

Pretending very poorly.

“…They’re watching.”

“I know.”

“…It’s embarrassing.”

“It is?”

“…A little.”

Seijuro leaned down just enough that only Tetsuya could hear him.

“I think you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Tetsuya’s face immediately warmed.

“…Seijuro.”

“Yes?”

“…You’re doing this on purpose.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy seeing this expression.”

“…You’re teasing me.”

“I am.”

“You’re supposed to be the mature one.”

“I usually am.”

“…Usually?”

“Except when it comes to you.”

Tetsuya covered part of his face with his hand.

“…We’re in public.”

“I know.”

“People can hear you.”

“They probably can.”

“…Seijuro…”

“Yes?”

“Please stop.”

“You haven’t actually asked me to stop.”

“…I’m asking now.”

Seijuro looked at him for a moment.

Then smiled warmly.

“…Alright.”

Tetsuya let out a small sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

A beat passed.

Then Seijuro gently took his hand.

“Let’s go home.”

Tetsuya looked down at their intertwined fingers.

Then back up.

“…That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

As they walked toward the gym doors hand in hand, Kise watched them disappear before dramatically grabbing Aomine’s shoulders.

“I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!”

Aomine shoved him off.

“Then stop watching them!”

“I CAN’T!”

Momoi laughed quietly. “…They’re adorable.”

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

“…They’re insufferable.”

“…You mean adorable,” Murasakibara corrected.

“…I meant exactly what I said.”

None of them noticed Tetsuya glance up at Seijuro with a smile that had become much easier to wear.

Or the way Seijuro looked back at him.

Like teasing him a little…

Was becoming one of his favorite parts of every day.

Chapter Text

Practice had ended nearly twenty minutes ago.

Most of the team had already gone home.

The hallways were quieter now, filled only with the occasional voices of students packing up before leaving for the weekend.

Tetsuya was making his way toward the front entrance with his bag slung over one shoulder when someone stepped into his path.

He stopped.

The boy wasn’t from the basketball team.

Probably a second-year.

“…Kuroko-kun?”

“Yes?”

The boy smiled nervously.

“I’ve… been wanting to talk to you.”

Tetsuya tilted his head.

“…About?”

“I’ve liked you for a while.”

“Oh.”

“I know you probably don’t know who I am, but…”

He took a breath.

“…Would you go out with me?”

Tetsuya blinked once.

His expression remained as calm as ever.

“…I’m sorry.”

The boy’s smile faltered.

“I already have a boyfriend.”

“Akashi, right?”

“…Yes.”

The boy laughed awkwardly. “Come on.”

Tetsuya looked confused.

“…What?”

“That’s obviously fake.”

“It isn’t.”

“It has to be.”

Tetsuya frowned slightly. “…Why?”

“Because it’s Akashi.”

“Yes.”

“He wouldn’t date someone like you.”

The words left the boy’s mouth so casually that he didn’t even seem to realize how cruel they sounded.

Tetsuya simply stared at him.

“…Someone like me?”

“I mean…”

The boy scratched the back of his neck.

“You’re quiet. You’re invisible half the time. So I just figured it was some publicity thing.”

“…It’s not.”

The boy stepped closer anyway.

“So just break up with him.”

“…No.”

“You don’t even look like a couple.”

“…We are.”

“Then prove it.”

Tetsuya blinked. “…I don’t need to.”

“You’re lying.”

“…I’m not.”

The boy sighed dramatically.

“You’re seriously choosing to keep up this act?”

“I’m not acting.”

“Then why hasn’t anyone ever seen you two actually kiss?”

Tetsuya opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

“…That’s…”

“He’s telling the truth.”

A calm voice interrupted from behind them.

Both boys turned.

Seijuro.

Still in his practice clothes.

His bag rested over one shoulder as he walked toward them with his usual composed expression.

The boy stiffened immediately.

“…Akashi.”

Seijuro stopped beside Tetsuya.

“Is there a problem?”

The boy laughed nervously.

“N-No. I was just talking to Kuroko.”

“I noticed.”

His crimson eyes settled on the boy.

Quiet.

Unreadable.

“…You also called our relationship fake.”

The boy swallowed.

“I… I didn’t mean—”

“You also asked Tetsuya to prove otherwise.”

The hallway became very, very quiet.

Tetsuya looked up at Seijuro.

“…Seijuro.”

“Hm?”

“It’s alright.”

Seijuro looked down at him.

For a second…

The stern expression disappeared.

Replaced by something much softer.

“…No,” he said quietly. “It isn’t.”

Then…

Without another word…

He gently placed a hand beneath Tetsuya’s chin, tilting his head upward.

Tetsuya’s eyes widened slightly.

“…Seiju—”

The rest of his sentence disappeared.

Seijuro kissed him.

Not the quick peck he’d stolen in front of the Generation of Miracles.

Not a dramatic display.

Just a slow, gentle kiss that left absolutely no room for doubt.

Tetsuya froze for only a heartbeat.

Then, almost instinctively…

He melted into it.

His fingers lightly curled around the front of Seijuro’s jacket.

The hallway seemed to disappear.

There was only the warmth of Seijuro’s hand against his face.

Only the quiet certainty with which Seijuro held him.

When they finally separated…

Tetsuya’s cheeks had turned a very noticeable shade of pink.

“…Seijuro…”

“Hm?”

“We’re at school.”

“I noticed.”

“…There are people.”

“I can see.”

Tetsuya hid part of his face behind his sleeve.

“…You’re embarrassing.”

A tiny smile tugged at Seijuro’s lips.

“…Perhaps.”

He looked back at the boy.

“Was that sufficient proof?”

The boy’s mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

“…I… yes.”

“Good.”

Seijuro slipped his hand into Tetsuya’s.

“Let’s go home.”

“Alright.”

They walked away together as though nothing unusual had happened.

Halfway down the hallway…

Tetsuya quietly bumped his shoulder against Seijuro’s.

“You planned that.”

“…Perhaps.”

“You enjoyed embarrassing me.”

“A little.”

“…Seijuro.”

“Yes?”

“I’m still blushing.”

“I know.”

“…Please don’t do that again.”

Seijuro smiled.

“…I’ll consider your request.”

“That’s not a yes.”

Behind them, the rejected student remained frozen in the hallway.

After nearly a full minute, he quietly muttered to himself,

“…I probably deserved that.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Chapter Text

The hallway was out of sight.

But the rage radiating off Seijuro hadn’t faded.

He didn’t speak.

He navigated the empty corridors quickly.

His grip on Tetsuya’s hand was firm.

Just before they reached the heavy double doors leading to the main gates, Seijuro suddenly veered to the left.

He pulled Tetsuya down a narrow corridor.

They ducked under the main stairwell.

It was a dim, recessed space.

Completely hidden away from the view of anyone walking by.

Tetsuya barely had time to blink.

He was backed flat against the wall.

His gym bag dropped with a thud.

Seijuro loomed over him.

His chest heaved slightly.

His usual calm composure was gone.

"…Seijuro," Tetsuya said softly. "You’re angry."

"I’m furious," Seijuro admitted.

His eyes were dark and intense.

Tetsuya’s expression softened.

Just a fraction.

"…I don’t care about what he said."

"I care.” Seijuro countered fiercely.

He leaned in closer.

Their chests were almost touching.

"I won’t tolerate those words."

"…This is a very aggressive reaction."

Tetsuya’s tone remained deadpan.

But his heart was beating rapidly.

"When it comes to you, I have no desire to be patient," Seijuro whispered.

Before Tetsuya could reply, Seijuro closed the remaining distance.

This kiss was pure possessiveness.

Seijuro leaned his entire weight forward.

He trapped Tetsuya against the concrete.

His hands flew to Tetsuya’s face, fingers tangling roughly into his light blue hair, holding him perfectly still.

The kiss was desperate and intense.

Seijuro parted Tetsuya’s lips demandingly, stamping his claim fiercely.

Tetsuya’s head spun.

The wild passion was overwhelming.

He whimpered softly into the kiss.

His hands blindly reached up to grip the fabric of Seijuro’s jacket, holding on for dear life so he wouldn't slide down the wall.

Every time Tetsuya thought Seijuro was about to pull away for air, Seijuro would only deepen the kiss, tilting his head to catch his lips from a different angle, demanding everything Tetsuya had to give.

The kiss went on and on without a single break.

After nearly a full minute of the relentless, deep onslaught, Tetsuya’s lungs began to burn.

His head felt very light.

He was rapidly running out of air.

He tried to pull back slightly but Seijuro’s grip was firm.

Tetsuya lifted his hands.

He rapidly tapped Seijuro’s back, signaling frantically for him to let him breathe.

Seijuro didn’t pull away.

He only let out a low groan.

The taps only seemed to fuel his possessiveness.

In one swift, powerful motion, Seijuro hooked his arms under Tetsuya’s thighs and lifted him completely off the ground.

Tetsuya gasped into Seijuro’s mouth as his feet left the floor.

Seijuro slammed him back up against the concrete wall.

He pinned Tetsuya high against it using his own body weight.

Tetsuya instinctively wrapped his legs tightly around Seijuro’s waist to keep from falling.

His hands clutched desperately at Seijuro's shoulders.

Tetsuya was completely at his mercy.

Seijuro tilted his head and deepened the kiss even further.

It was even more aggressive now.

It was a breathless, bruising clash of lips and tongues in the shadows of the stairwell.

Tetsuya’s mind went entirely blank.

He was captured by the overwhelming heat and the fierce strength holding him up.

When Seijuro finally broke the contact, he didn't drop Tetsuya down.

He kept him pinned against the wall.

He rested his forehead heavily against Tetsuya’s, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

Tetsuya’s lips were swollen, chest heaving.

His face was flushed a brilliant crimson from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

For a long moment, they stood there in the dark.

The only sound was their uneven breathing.

Tetsuya blinked up, completely dazed.

He clung to Seijuro's shoulders.

"…Seijuro," Tetsuya gasped breathlessly.

"Yes?"

Seijuro’s voice was rough.

"You’re..." Tetsuya struggled to find the right words. “Stupid…”

A breathless laugh escaped Seijuro.

The furious tension melted away.

A fond smile returned instead.

"Perhaps," Seijuro hummed.

He gently let Tetsuya’s feet slide back down to the floor.

His hands gently brushed a few stray hairs out of Tetsuya's face.

"But you manage me well enough."

Tetsuya pouted.

“You’ve gotten dust on my school jacket."

But he didn't move away from Seijuro's chest.

"My apologies.”

A familiar smirk returned to his face.

"I suppose I lost my composure."

"…Clearly,” Tetsuya rolled his eyes. "My mouth is numb."

"Consider it a reminder.”

Seijuro leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Tetsuya’s forehead.

"Now. Let us actually go home."

"…Alright," Tetsuya agreed.

He picked up his bag.

His hands were slightly shaky.

"But if you attack me in a locker room next, I’m telling your father."

Seijuro chuckled softly at that.

He took Tetsuya’s hand once more.

"I would like to see you try."

Chapter Text

A sleek black car was already waiting.

The driver stepped out and opened the rear door.

“Good evening, Young Master.”

“Good evening.”

Seijuro glanced toward Tetsuya.

“…Would you like a ride home first?”

Tetsuya nodded.

“If it isn’t too much trouble.”

“It isn’t.”

“It never is.”

⸻

The ride began in comfortable silence.

The city drifted past the windows in streaks of orange and gold.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither felt the need to.

Tetsuya quietly read the novel he’d borrowed from the school library while Seijuro sat beside him with his head resting against the window.

Every few minutes, Tetsuya found himself glancing over.

“…Seijuro.”

“Hm?”

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

“…Did you sleep enough?”

“Probably not.”

“You say that every week.”

“Because it’s true every week.”

Tetsuya closed his book.

“…You should sleep more.”

“I know.”

“You won’t.”

“…Probably not.”

Tetsuya let out the smallest sigh.

“I thought so.”

⸻

Several more minutes passed.

The gentle hum of the engine filled the car.

Seijuro closed his eyes for a moment.

Then another.

Tetsuya noticed his breathing becoming slower.

“…Seijuro?”

No response.

Not because he was asleep.

Just…

Too tired to answer immediately.

He opened one eye.

“…Yes?”

“You’re falling asleep.”

“Am I?”

“A little.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Seijuro looked at him, faintly puzzled.

“…What do you mean?”

Tetsuya hesitated.

“…You could…”

He stopped.

“…Could?”

“Never mind.”

Seijuro smiled faintly.

“You don’t usually change your mind halfway through a sentence.”

“…I know.”

“…What were you going to say?”

Tetsuya looked down at his hands.

Then quietly answered,

“…You could rest here.”

He lightly patted his lap.

“If you’d like.”

Seijuro blinked.

He had no immediate response.

“…You’re offering me your lap.”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

“…You look exhausted.”

“I am.”

“And we’re the only passengers.”

A brief silence.

Then Seijuro laughed quietly.

“…You always manage to surprise me.”

Without another word, he shifted across the seat.

Carefully.

Giving Tetsuya every opportunity to change his mind.

Tetsuya didn’t.

Instead, he simply adjusted slightly to make him more comfortable.

Seijuro rested his head against Tetsuya’s lap.

“…Comfortable?” Tetsuya asked.

“Very.”

“Good.”

⸻

For a while…

Neither of them spoke.

Tetsuya returned to reading his book with one hand.

His other rested absentmindedly beside Seijuro’s shoulder.

The car rocked gently over the road.

The warmth of the afternoon sun filtered through the window.

It was…

Peaceful.

Almost too peaceful.

⸻

“…Young Master?”

The driver’s voice came quietly from the front.

“I apologize for interrupting.”

Seijuro opened one eye.

“Yes?”

“We will arrive at the estate in approximately ten minutes.”

“Understood.”

The driver hesitated for a second before adding politely, “…You both look very comfortable.”

Tetsuya’s ears immediately turned pink.

“…O-Oh.”

Seijuro, however, looked entirely unbothered.

“We are.”

“Very good, sir.”

The divider remained firmly closed after that.

⸻

Tetsuya looked down.

“…Did that embarrass you?”

Seijuro answered without opening his eyes.

“Not particularly.”

“…It embarrassed me.”

“I noticed.”

“…Please don’t smile.”

“I’m afraid I already am.”

“I know.”

“I can feel it.”

That finally earned a soft laugh from Seijuro.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Another quiet silence settled between them.

This time…

Seijuro didn’t fight his exhaustion anymore.

Within a few minutes, his breathing evened out completely.

He had fallen asleep.

Tetsuya looked down from his book.

The usually composed captain looked surprisingly peaceful.

Without thinking, Tetsuya gently brushed a few strands of crimson hair away from Seijuro’s forehead.

“…Good night,” he whispered, barely loud enough for himself to hear.

Seijuro, already asleep, unconsciously leaned just a little closer.

Tetsuya smiled.

Then returned to his book.

He didn’t turn another page for quite some time.

Chapter Text

By the time Tetsuya arrived home, the apartment was silent.

As always.

He slipped off his shoes, set his bag beside the door, and stood there for a long moment.

Everything felt heavier than usual.

School.

Homework.

The long day.

Even smiling seemed to have taken more energy than he realized.

He glanced at the clock.

“…I’m tired.”

The words disappeared into the empty apartment.

No one answered.

⸻

His stomach growled quietly.

Tetsuya looked toward the kitchen.

“Dinner.”

He knew he should eat.

More importantly…

He knew what Seijuro would say if he found out he hadn’t.

“Tetsuya, you skipped breakfast yesterday.”

“You barely ate lunch.”

“You cannot expect your body to recover if you don’t give it anything to recover with.”

Tetsuya smiled faintly to himself.

“He’d be upset.”

With a small sigh, he walked into the kitchen.

“…Just something simple.”

Rice.

Soup.

Maybe eggs.

Nothing complicated.

⸻

He gathered the ingredients one by one.

The apartment remained quiet except for the sound of running water and the soft tap of vegetables against the cutting board.

Tetsuya picked up the kitchen knife.

His eyelids felt heavy.

He blinked once.

Twice.

“…I should’ve rested first.”

But…

If he lay down now…

He knew he wouldn’t get back up.

So he kept going.

⸻

The knife slipped.

It happened so quickly that Tetsuya barely registered it.

His hand lost its grip for just an instant.

The blade glanced off the vegetable.

Then caught the inside of his forearm just below the elbow.

The knife clattered onto the counter.

For a second…

He simply stared.

Then the sharp sting reached him.

A thin line of red quickly spread across his sleeve before drops began falling onto the floor.

“…That… was careless.”

He set the knife farther away before instinctively pressing his other hand over the cut.

The pressure slowed the bleeding, but when he pulled his hand away…

It started again.

“…I should clean it.”

⸻

He made his way to the bathroom.

The bright light made him squint.

He rinsed the wound under cool water, wincing as it stung.

The cut looked deeper than he’d first thought.

“…Mm.”

He opened the medicine cabinet.

Found the bandages.

Looked at them for several seconds.

Then quietly closed the cabinet again.

“…I’m too tired.”

Instead, he grabbed a clean towel from the shelf and wrapped it loosely around his forearm.

It wasn’t secure.

It certainly wasn’t how Seijuro would’ve wanted him to treat it.

But…

It covered the cut.

“Good enough.”

⸻

By the time he returned to the kitchen, the vegetables were still sitting exactly where he’d left them.

Tetsuya looked at them.

Then at the pot.

His stomach growled again.

“…Tomorrow.”

He turned off the kitchen light.

The ingredients remained untouched on the counter.

Dinner never happened.

⸻

A few minutes later, Tetsuya changed into comfortable clothes as best he could with one arm.

The towel around his forearm had already begun showing faint spots of red, but he barely noticed.

He was simply too exhausted.

He crawled into bed without setting an alarm.

Without eating.

Without properly dressing the wound.

Within moments…

He was asleep.

On the kitchen counter downstairs, his phone lit up.

Seijuro: Have you eaten dinner yet?

A minute later…

Another message appeared.

Seijuro: Tetsuya?

The screen eventually went dark again.

No reply came that night.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Tetsuya woke to sunlight spilling across his bedroom floor.

For a brief moment, everything felt normal.

Then he moved his left arm.

“…Ow.”

A sharp pain shot through his forearm, making him wince.

He slowly pushed himself upright and glanced down.

The towel he’d wrapped around it the night before had shifted in his sleep.

There were dried spots of blood along the fabric.

“…Right.”

He had almost forgotten.

Almost.

⸻

His phone buzzed on the bedside table.

Tetsuya reached over with his uninjured hand.

Two unread messages.

Seijuro: Have you eaten dinner yet?

Seijuro: Tetsuya?

The messages had been sent the night before.

Tetsuya looked at the screen for a long moment.

Then typed back.

Tetsuya: I’m sorry. I fell asleep before I saw your messages.

A few seconds later…

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Seijuro: Did you at least eat dinner first?

Tetsuya hesitated.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard.

He knew the answer.

He also knew exactly how Seijuro would react.

With a small sigh, he typed,

Tetsuya: I did. Don’t worry.

He stared at the message.

Then pressed send.

Almost instantly…

Seijuro: I’m glad. Get to school safely.

A strange feeling settled in Tetsuya’s chest.

“…I’m sorry.”

⸻

Before leaving, he finally unwrapped the towel.

The cut looked angry.

Longer than he’d remembered.

It had stopped bleeding, but every movement pulled at it.

“…It’ll be fine.”

He cleaned it properly this time, though far more quickly than he probably should have.

A bandage.

Another layer wrapped around it.

Then he pulled on his Teikō blazer.

The sleeve hid everything.

He flexed his arm once.

It hurt.

“…No one will notice.”

⸻

Unfortunately…

He had forgotten one very important detail.

Seijuro noticed everything.

⸻

“Tetsuya.”

“Good morning.”

Seijuro fell into step beside him as they walked toward the school building.

“Good morning.”

His crimson eyes lingered on Tetsuya for only a moment.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“…You look tired.”

“I slept a little too much.”

“Hm.”

Tetsuya relaxed slightly.

Good.

No questions.

Then…

“…Why aren’t you swinging your left arm?”

Tetsuya froze for half a second.

“…Am I not?”

“No.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“I did.”

“Oh.”

Seijuro looked at him for another moment.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

“You’ve blinked four times since I asked.”

“Is that unusual?”

“For you, yes.”

Tetsuya quietly looked away.

“…It’s nothing.”

Seijuro wasn’t convinced.

Not even slightly.

But the first bell rang before he could ask anything else.

⸻

The entire school day became a game.

A game Tetsuya was losing.

Whenever Seijuro walked on his left…

Tetsuya somehow ended up walking on his right instead.

When Seijuro reached toward his arm while talking…

Tetsuya conveniently adjusted his bag.

During lunch…

He kept his injured arm beneath the table.

Momoi noticed first.

“…Tetsu-kun?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not.”

“…You just picked up your milk carton with the wrong hand.”

“Did I?”

“You always use your left.”

“I’m trying something new.”

Momoi narrowed her eyes.

“…You’re a terrible liar.”

Across the table, Seijuro quietly looked up.

He had heard that.

⸻

Practice arrived far too quickly.

Coach Shirogane clapped his hands.

“Alright! Change into your practice jerseys!”

The team scattered toward the locker rooms.

Tetsuya’s heart sank.

“…Right.”

The jersey.

⸻

Inside the locker room…

Everyone began changing without a second thought.

Kise was talking while trying to pull his shirt over his head.

Aomine had already changed.

Midorima was neatly folding his uniform.

Murasakibara was looking for the snacks he’d somehow brought with him.

No one paid much attention.

Except…

Seijuro.

Tetsuya quietly slipped off his blazer.

Then stopped.

The bandage disappeared beneath the cuff of his white dress shirt.

Still hidden.

“…Good.”

Now…

The shirt.

He reached for the first button.

Pain shot through his arm.

His fingers stiffened.

“…Mm.”

He tried again.

Nothing.

The fabric tugged against the cut.

He let out the smallest hiss of pain before catching himself.

“Tetsuya?”

Seijuro’s voice was calm.

Too calm.

“…You’re changing slowly.”

“I’m just tired.”

“You’ve been staring at the same button for thirty seconds.”

“Have I?”

“You have.”

“…Oh.”

Around them, the others were nearly finished changing.

Kise looked over.

“Kurokocchi?”

“…Yes?”

“You okay?”

“…I’m fine.”

Aomine snorted. “No, you’re not.”

“…I am.”

“You’ve said ‘I’m fine’ like eight times today.”

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

“Nine.”

Tetsuya sighed quietly.

“You’re all very observant today.”

“No,” Aomine replied. “you’ve just been acting weird all day.”

Seijuro took one step closer.

“Tetsuya.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

Slowly…

Tetsuya did.

Seijuro’s eyes softened.

“…What happened?”

The locker room fell silent.

Tetsuya looked away again.

“…Nothing.”

Seijuro wasn’t looking at his face anymore.

He was looking at Tetsuya’s left sleeve.

There.

Just barely visible beneath the white cuff.

A tiny spot of red had begun to seep through the fabric.

For a moment…

No one said anything.

Kise was the second to notice.

“…Kurokocchi?”

Tetsuya instinctively pulled his arm behind his back.

“It’s nothing.”

Seijuro’s gaze didn’t leave the small crimson stain spreading through the cuff of Tetsuya’s sleeve.

“…Show me your arm.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Tetsuya.”

“…It isn’t serious.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“You’ve hidden it from me all day.”

Silence.

“…Yes.”

“And you lied.”

Tetsuya lowered his eyes.

“…Yes.”

The locker room had become unnaturally quiet.

Even Aomine had stopped talking.

Murasakibara looked up from the bench.

“…Kuro-chin’s hurt?”

Midorima frowned. “Take your hand away.”

Tetsuya hesitated.

“I’d rather keep it covered.”

“…Why?” Kise asked, his voice much quieter now.

“…Because…”

He searched for the right words.

“…I thought everyone would worry.”

Aomine stared at him.

“…We are worried.”

“Exactly.”

Seijuro stepped forward until only a foot separated them.

His voice never rose.

If anything…

It became calmer.

“Tetsuya.”

“Yes?”

“…Please.”

That single word carried more concern than any demand could have.

Tetsuya looked at him for a long moment.

Then, with a small sigh…

He slowly brought his injured arm forward.

“…I’m sorry.”

Carefully, he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.

The white bandage wrapped around his forearm came into view.

Near the elbow…

Several spots of red had soaked through.

Kise’s eyes widened.

“…Kurokocchi!”

Midorima immediately stood.

“That is not a small cut.”

Aomine frowned. “When did that happen?”

“Last night.”

Seijuro looked from the bandage…

To Tetsuya.

“How?”

“…I was making dinner.”

“You cut yourself.”

“…Yes.”

“You told me you ate.”

“I know.”

“Did you?”

A pause.

“…No.”

“Why?”

“…I got tired. So I went to bed.”

The silence afterward felt heavier than before.

Seijuro closed his eyes for just a second.

Not because he was angry.

Because he was trying very hard not to sound angry.

When he opened them again…

His expression had softened.

“You skipped dinner.”

“…Yes.”

“You went to sleep with this untreated.”

“Mostly untreated.”

He let out a quiet breath.

“…You lied because you thought I’d worry.”

Tetsuya nodded once.

“Yes… I’m sorry.”

⸻

Coach Shirogane walked into the locker room.

“What’s taking so lo…”

He stopped.

His eyes landed on Tetsuya’s arm.

“…Kuroko.”

“Yes, Coach?”

“Medical room. Now.”

“It’s alright.”

“No.”

The coach’s tone left no room for argument.

“It may need stitches.”

Every head turned toward Tetsuya.

“…Stitches?” Kise repeated.

Tetsuya’s heart sank.

“Really?”

Coach Shirogane sighed. “I’d rather the nurse decide than you.”

⸻

Seijuro picked up Tetsuya’s blazer from the bench.

“I’ll go with him.”

Coach Shirogane nodded.

“Fine. As for the rest of you…”

He pointed toward the gym.

“Practice starts in three minutes.”

Aomine folded his arms.

“…Can we check on him later?”

“You may.”

⸻

As the others reluctantly left the locker room, Kise paused beside Tetsuya.

“…Kurokocchi?”

“Yes?”

“Next time…”

His usual bright smile was gone.

“…Please tell someone.”

Midorima nodded once.

“Hiding an injury only makes it worse.”

Murasakibara sighed. “…Kuro-chin scared us.”

Even Aomine reached over and lightly flicked Tetsuya’s forehead.

“Idiot.”

“…Ow.”

“That one didn’t even hurt your arm.”

“I know.”

“…Good.”

⸻

Once the others had gone…

The locker room became quiet again.

Seijuro stood beside Tetsuya.

Neither of them moved immediately.

Finally…

Tetsuya spoke.

“…You’re disappointed.”

Seijuro looked at him.

“No.”

“…You aren’t?”

“I’m relieved.”

Tetsuya blinked. “…Relieved?”

“Because now I know.”

He adjusted Tetsuya’s sleeve so it rested comfortably above the bandage.

His movements were careful.

Gentle.

“…You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

For the first time since the night before…

The tightness in Tetsuya’s chest eased.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

“I know.”

“Are you still upset?”

Seijuro was quiet for a moment.

“…I’m upset that you believed you had to handle this alone.”

He offered Tetsuya a small smile.

“Come on. The nurse is waiting.”

This time…

Tetsuya didn’t argue.

“…Alright.”

And together, they left the locker room, one walking beside the other, as they always did.

Chapter Text

The nurse’s office smelled faintly of disinfectant.

Tetsuya sat on the examination bed while the school nurse carefully removed the bandages he’d hastily wrapped around his arm that morning.

The longer she looked at it…

The less Tetsuya liked her expression.

“Kuroko-kun.”

“Yes?”

“…Why exactly did you think this didn’t need treatment?”

Tetsuya thought about it.

“…I was tired.”

The nurse stared at him.

“That’s not an answer.”

“…It was yesterday.”

Beside him, Seijuro lowered his head into one hand.

⸻

A few minutes later…

The verdict arrived.

The cut wasn’t severe enough to require a trip to the hospital.

But it had required proper treatment.

Which Tetsuya had not provided.

At all.

The nurse sighed while applying fresh bandages.

“You’re lucky.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“…Oh.”

⸻

Seijuro had remained silent through most of it.

Which was honestly making Tetsuya more nervous.

Not because Seijuro was angry.

Because he wasn’t.

He just looked worried.

And somehow…

That was worse.

⸻

When they finally left the nurse’s office, practice was already halfway over.

The halls were quiet.

The sounds of basketballs echoed faintly through the building.

For several moments, neither spoke.

Then…

“…Seijuro.”

“Hm?”

“You’re very quiet.”

“I know.”

“…Usually that’s my role.”

A faint smile appeared.

Only for a second.

“…Usually.”

They continued walking.

Eventually Seijuro stopped beside a window overlooking the practice courts outside.

“…Tetsuya.”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

His crimson eyes met Tetsuya’s.

“…If our positions were reversed…”

Tetsuya immediately knew where this was going.

“Seijuro.”

“If I cut myself.”

“Seijuro.”

“If I skipped dinner.”

“…Seijuro.”

“If I lied about both things.”

“…Yes, I would be worried.”

“Exactly.”

Tetsuya sighed.

“…I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Tetsuya quietly looked down at the fresh bandage.

“…I don’t like worrying people.”

“I know.”

“Especially you.”

That surprised Seijuro.

“…Me?”

“You worry the most.”

Seijuro stared. “…That’s not exactly flattering.”

“It’s true.”

“…I suppose it is.”

⸻

Tetsuya hesitated.

Then quietly added, “I didn’t want you to look at me the way you did in the locker room.”

Seijuro frowned slightly.

“…How did I look?”

“Scared.”

The answer came immediately.

Without hesitation.

Because Tetsuya had noticed.

Of course he had.

Seijuro looked away toward the window.

For the first time all day…

He didn’t have a response ready.

Because Tetsuya wasn’t wrong.

When he’d seen the blood on that sleeve…

When he’d learned Tetsuya hadn’t eaten…

When he’d realized he’d been hiding it all day…

For a few moments…

He had been scared.

“…I was,” he admitted quietly.

Tetsuya blinked. “…Oh.”

“…You’re important to me.”

The words came naturally.

Simple.

Honest.

“So yes. I was scared.”

The hallway fell silent.

Tetsuya looked down at his arm.

Then at Seijuro.

Then back down again.

His ears had turned faintly pink.

“…I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“Good.”

“And I’ll eat dinner.”

“Excellent.”

“And I’ll tell someone if I’m hurt.”

“I would appreciate that.”

⸻

For a moment, everything seemed resolved.

Then Seijuro added, “…I’d also appreciate it if you stopped trying to survive just determination.”

Tetsuya blinked.

“I don’t do that.”

“You do.”

“I eat food.”

“Occasionally.”

“That’s unfair.”

“It isn’t.”

⸻

For the first time all afternoon…

Tetsuya laughed.

A small laugh.

Quiet.

But real.

And immediately the worry lingering in Seijuro’s chest eased.

Just a little.

Enough.

⸻

When they finally returned to the gym, practice had nearly ended.

The second they walked inside…

Kise spotted them.

“KUROKOCCHI!”

Every head turned.

Coach Shirogane immediately sighed.

“How’s your arm?!” Kise yelled.

“It’s fine.”

“Did you get stitches?!”

“No.”

“ARE YOU SURE?”

“Yes.”

Aomine groaned. “…Stop screaming.”

Murasakibara waved lazily.

“Welcome back, Kuro-chin.”

Midorima adjusted his glasses.

“You look less likely to collapse.”

“Thank you?”

⸻

As practice resumed…

Tetsuya found himself glancing toward Seijuro.

Just once.

Seijuro noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

He always did.

“…What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tetsuya.”

“Thank you.”

The words were so quiet that no one else heard them.

But Seijuro did.

A small smile appeared.

“…Always.”

And somehow…

For the first time since the accident in the kitchen…

Everything felt alright again.

Chapter Text

By the time they arrived at the Akashi estate, the sky had already darkened into shades of deep blue.

The front doors opened before they even reached them.

“Welcome home, Young Master. Kuroko-sama.”

Tetsuya gave a small nod.

“…Thank you.”

Masaomi looked up from the newspaper in the sitting room as they entered.

“Welcome back.”

“Good evening, Father.”

“Good evening, Akashi-san.”

Masaomi smiled warmly at Tetsuya.

“I had the kitchen prepare enough for three.”

“…Thank you.”

⸻

Dinner was peaceful.

Masaomi spoke about work.

Seijuro mentioned practice.

Tetsuya quietly answered the occasional question whenever Masaomi asked about school.

By now, dinners like this had become strangely… normal.

Tetsuya wasn’t sure when that had happened.

He wasn’t sure he minded.

⸻

As the plates were cleared away, one of the household staff approached Seijuro.

“Young Master, the overseas conference has been moved up by thirty minutes.”

Seijuro nodded.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

He turned to Tetsuya.

“I’m afraid I’ll be occupied for about an hour.”

“…That’s alright.”

“You should shower first.”

“…Okay.”

“I’ll join you upstairs when I’m finished.”

Tetsuya nodded.

“…Don’t work too late.”

A small smile tugged at Seijuro’s lips.

“I’ll try.”

⸻

The guest bathroom had long since become familiar.

Fresh towels.

A neatly folded toothbrush.

Even shampoo that smelled the way Tetsuya liked.

Someone in the household had quietly noticed.

He wasn’t sure who.

⸻

When he finished showering, warm steam still lingered in the room.

He dried his hair with a towel before stepping into Seijuro’s bedroom.

His overnight bag sat neatly beside the bed.

Inside were the clothes he’d packed.

He looked at them.

Then at Seijuro’s closet.

“…”

A quiet internal debate lasted all of five seconds.

“…He won’t mind.”

He opened the closet.

Rows of perfectly organized shirts greeted him.

Everything was folded with almost alarming precision.

Tetsuya carefully borrowed a soft black T-shirt that was far too large for him.

Then a pair of gray lounge pants.

The sleeves reached well past his hands.

The shirt hung nearly to his thighs.

He looked down at himself.

“…Comfortable.”

⸻

The room was quiet.

Without Seijuro there, it somehow felt much larger.

Tetsuya wandered over to the bookshelf for a few minutes, absentmindedly reading the titles.

Then he yawned.

A long one.

“…I’m still tired.”

He glanced toward the clock.

Seijuro would probably be another half hour.

Maybe longer.

“I’ll just rest.”

Famous last words.

⸻

He climbed onto the bed.

The mattress dipped softly beneath him.

The blankets were warm.

The pillows smelled faintly of clean laundry and just a hint of Seijuro’s shampoo.

Without really thinking…

Tetsuya curled up beneath the blanket.

Pulling one pillow closer.

Then another.

The oversized sleeves covered his hands completely.

“…Just for a little while…”

His eyes closed.

Within minutes…

He was asleep.

⸻

Nearly an hour later, Seijuro quietly opened his bedroom door.

The meeting had run longer than expected.

He loosened his tie as he stepped inside.

“…Tetsuya?”

No answer.

He looked toward the bed.

Then stopped.

There, completely buried beneath the blankets, was Tetsuya.

One arm wrapped around a pillow.

Another tucked beneath his cheek.

Still wearing clothes that were obviously several sizes too big.

The sleeves had slipped over his fingertips.

His hair was still slightly damp from his shower.

Seijuro couldn’t help smiling.

“…You really did borrow my clothes.”

He set his laptop bag down as quietly as possible.

Tetsuya shifted in his sleep.

Murmuring something completely unintelligible.

Then, still asleep…

He hugged the pillow a little tighter.

Seijuro let out the smallest laugh.

“…I suppose that’s mine now.”

He pulled another blanket over Tetsuya’s shoulders, making sure he was warm.

The movement earned nothing more than a sleepy little sigh.

Still asleep.

Still completely unaware.

“…Good night, Tetsuya.”

He switched off the bedside lamp.

The room fell into darkness.

For a moment, Seijuro simply stood there, looking at the peaceful scene in front of him.

Then he quietly changed into his own sleep clothes, slipped into the other side of the bed as carefully as he could, and reached for the book on his nightstand.

He only managed three pages.

When he glanced over again, Tetsuya had unconsciously shuffled a few inches closer in his sleep, still curled up beneath the blankets.

Seijuro smiled to himself, closed the book, turned off the last light, and let the quiet of the evening settle around them.

⸻

The morning sun filtered through the curtains.

Tetsuya blinked his eyes open slowly.

For a moment, he wasn't entirely sure where he was.

Then he felt a familiar warmth.

An arm rested loosely around his waist.

He had somehow ended up curled against Seijuro during the night.

"Good morning, Tetsuya.”

Seijuro's voice was quiet.

"…Good morning."

Tetsuya tried to sit up.

The movement tugged at his injured arm.

"...Ow."

Seijuro immediately moved.

"Careful."

He gently caught Tetsuya's forearm before he could put too much weight on it.

"You'll pull the bandage."

"...Right."

Tetsuya relaxed again.

"...I forgot."

"I noticed."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Slowly, Seijuro pinned Tetsuya’s good hand above his head.

He paused, making sure Tetsuya was okay.

Tetsuya merely blinked.

Then Seijuro flipped his weight over him, hovering directly over Tetsuya on the mattress.

"Wait, what if—"

The protest was swallowed instantly.

Seijuro slammed his lips down hard.

His tongue parted his lips, consuming Tetsuya’s air entirely.

Tetsuya’s mind went completely blank.

He melted under the heavy pressure, back arching into the mattress.

Seijuro’s free hand slid under the shirt.

His warm palm gripped Tetsuya’s bare waist roughly.

Tetsuya whimpered softly against his mouth.

"...Mmph-"

The sheets tangled wildly around their legs as the morning air grew thick and heavy.

Seijuro deepened the kiss even further.

Suddenly, the bedroom door clicked open.

"Seijuro, the accountant left the—"

Masaomi stopped dead in his tracks.

The door was wide open.

Masaomi stood.

Frozen.

A stack of financial documents in hand.

He stared at the bed.

Seijuro was straddling Tetsuya.

Tetsuya's clothes were completely disheveled.

Seijuro’s hand was still under Tetsuya’s shirt.

And Tetsuya's lips were bright red and swollen.

The room became painfully, horrifyingly quiet.

Seijuro didn't move.

He slowly turned his head toward his father.

His crimson eyes were completely unbothered.

"Father," Seijuro said flatly. "Knock."

He yanked the blanket over his head so quickly that only a tuft of light blue hair remained visible.

Masaomi stared for three agonizing seconds.

He slowly adjusted his glasses.

His expression remained perfectly stoic.

“I see.”

Another pause.

"Breakfast is in fifteen minutes," Masaomi said calmly.

He looked at Tetsuya’s hidden form.

"Please do not break the bed.”

Masaomi stepped back.

He turned to leave, then stopped at the doorway.

“And Seijuro.”

“Yes?”

“…Next time, lock the door if you don’t wish to be interrupted.”

“…Noted.”

He closed the door firmly behind him.

The click of the latch echoed loudly.

Tetsuya groaned loudly into his pillow.

"…I’m moving to America," Tetsuya muffled out.

Seijuro chuckled.

He pulled the blanket away from Tetsuya’s face.

“It isn’t that bad.”

“…It's exactly that bad.”

“I doubt Father will bring it up again.”

“…That somehow makes it worse.”

Seijuro smiled as he gently tugged the blanket down just enough for Tetsuya’s face to reappear.

"He’ll forget by tomorrow," Seijuro promised smoothly.

"…He will not," Tetsuya muttered.

His face was a brilliant, glowing crimson.

Seijuro smirked, leaning down to his ear.

"Then we should make the interruption worth it."

Tetsuya’s eyes widened.

“Masaomi-san! Help me!”

Seijuro’s smirk widened as Tetsuya’s shriek echoed through the entire second floor.

The sound hadn't even fully died down before the bedroom door flew open again with a loud, aggressive BANG.

Masaomi stood in the doorway.

His glasses were slightly askew.

His face was an absolute mask of terrifying, polite efficiency.

"I am still in the hallway," Masaomi announced flatly.

Tetsuya was still frozen.

Seijuro didn't even flinch.

"I can hear everything," Masaomi added.

"My apologies, Father.”

"Tetsuya.” Masaomi said, completely ignoring his son.

"…Yes?"

"If he attempts to keep bothering you before breakfast, you have my permission to use the family heirloom vase on his head."

Masaomi pointed toward the priceless porcelain in the corner.

"Father, that is a Ming dynasty artifact," Seijuro reasoned.

"And you are a disappointment to my schedule, Seijuro."

Masaomi checked his watch.

"Thirteen minutes remaining."

He stepped back into the hallway.

He closed the door.

Click.

The room plunged back into a suffocating, hysterical silence.

Tetsuya stared blankly at the ceiling.

His soul had completely left his body.

"See?" Seijuro murmured.

He leaned back down.

"He is very supportive."

"I’m throwing myself out the window.”

"We're on the third floor, Tetsuya."

"Then I will simply die.”

Seijuro’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous, playful mischief.

"Die?" Seijuro repeated smoothly. "Now, that would be a waste of those thirteen minutes."

"Seijuro, please," Tetsuya muffled into the blanket. "Your father probably has an entire report about us by now.:

"Then let's give him something less embarrassing to think about."

Before Tetsuya could even process the words, Seijuro slid his hands back under the duvet.

He pinned Tetsuya’s wrists gently above his head.

Tetsuya’s blue eyes went wide as saucers.

Seijuro leaned down again.

His hot breath brushed against the sensitive skin of Tetsuya's neck.

"Seijuro, wait—!"

Tetsuya's protest was instantly cut off as Seijuro’s lips pressed firmly against the junction where his neck met his shoulder.

He bit down gently, just enough to make Tetsuya gasp.

Then, he sucked the pale skin with a deliberate, agonizing slowness.

"Mmm... Seijuro—no, stop—!" Tetsuya whimpered.

His face started to turn into a crimson red.

Seijuro finally pulled back with a soft, satisfied pop.

Tetsuya scrambled backward until his spine hit the headboard.

He clutched his neck.

"What did you do?!" Tetsuya hissed.

Seijuro admired his handiwork with a look of pure, smug victory.

Right there, bright and impossible to miss against Tetsuya's porcelain skin, was a dark, blooming, violent purple hickey.

It sat exactly above his collar line.

"A reminder," Seijuro smirked.

He calmly adjusted his own cuffs.

"To ensure you don't actually flee to America."

"I’m going to kill you," Tetsuya whispered.

His voice trembled with sheer embarrassment.

"I’m using the vase."

"You have eleven minutes to try," Seijuro replied.

He checked his own watch.

"But I suggest you find a scarf first."

Tetsuya sprinted to the vanity mirror.

He stared at his reflection in utter horror.

The mark was massive.

It looked like a small galaxy had collided with his neck.

"It’s spring, Seijuro!" Tetsuya panicked.

He frantically tugged at his collar.

It didn't even come close to covering it.

"I can’t wear a scarf! Everyone will know! Your father will know!"

"Father already knows everything, Tetsuya."

Seijuro walked over.

He seemed completely unbothered.

He offered his hand.

"Shall we? The food will get cold."

Tetsuya looked at the hand.

Then at the mirror.

“I hate you.”

⸻

Tetsuya spent four minutes trying to plaster his light blue hair over his neck.

It didn’t work.

"Stop hovering," Tetsuya hissed.

They were walking down the grand staircase.

Seijuro was half a step behind him.

"I’m merely ensuring you don’t trip.”

⸻

They entered the dining room at exactly the twelve-minute mark.

Masaomi was still at the head of the table.

"Sit," he said without looking up from his tablet.

Tetsuya sat down so fast he nearly missed the chair.

He immediately slouched, burying his chin directly into his chest.

Seijuro sat down gracefully across from him.

A maid silently served the traditional breakfast.

It was rice, miso soup, and grilled salmon.

"The texture of the salmon is excellent today," Seijuro noted conversationally.

"The kitchen staff is efficient," Masaomi replied.

Tetsuya picked up his chopsticks with a trembling hand.

Every muscle in his body was locked.

He was hyper-aware of the dark purple brand sitting loudly on his skin.

Every time he took a bite of rice, he had to tilt his entire torso forward to keep his collar from shifting.

Masaomi finally set his tablet down.

His sharp eyes scanned the table.

Tetsuya held his breath.

He stopped chewing.

He looked at his rice as though it had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the room.

Masaomi’s gaze lingered on Tetsuya’s rigid posture for two seconds.

He blinked once. Then he spoke.

"The flavor profile of the miso soup is slightly lacking."

"Is it?" Seijuro asked.

He looked at the ceramic saltshaker sitting directly to his right.

Then, he looked at Tetsuya.

A slow, demonic glint entered Seijuro’s crimson eyes.

"Tetsuya," Seijuro said.

His voice dripped with false courtesy.

"Could you pass the salt? My soup requires a bit of adjustments."

Tetsuya’s eyes snapped up.

He glared at Seijuro.

The saltshaker was right next to Seijuro's hand.

To pass it, Tetsuya would have to lean across the table.

Leaning across the table meant stretching his torso.

Stretching his torso meant lifting his chin.

Lifting his chin meant exposing mark on his neck directly into Masaomi’s line of sight.

"It’s closer to you." Tetsuya whispered through gritted teeth.

"My arm is quite sore from earlier... activities," Seijuro lied smoothly.

He looked without a single shred of shame.

"Please."

Masaomi picked up his tea.

He was completely silent, watching the exchange.

Tetsuya took a slow, deep breath.

He had two choices.

Refuse and look suspicious or pass the salt and risk immediate execution by embarrassment.

He decided to try a tactical maneuver.

He stood up slightly, keeping his chin glued to his chest, and reached out an arm.

"Just lean a bit further, Tetsuya," Seijuro urged softly.

A massive smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I cannot reach."

Tetsuya overextended.

His collar caught on his shoulder.

His neck exposed completely.

The dark, vibrant, unmistakable purple hickey practically flashed like a neon sign under the dining room chandelier.

Masaomi paused mid-sip.

He slowly lowered his teacup.

He stared directly at the mark.

Tetsuya slammed the saltshaker onto the table, grabbed his collar, and practically collapsed back into his seat.

His face was so red it was practically purple to match the hickey.

The dining room became silent.

Masaomi adjusted his glasses.

He looked at Seijuro.

Then he looked back at Tetsuya.

"Seijuro.” Masaomi said calmly.

"Yes, Father?"

"I am revising my earlier statement."

"Oh?"

"Do not use the vase, Tetsuya," Masaomi said. "Use the katana on the display rack in the foyer. The insurance payout on Seijuro's life will easily cover the cost of a new bedroom set."

Seijuro blinked in surprise.

Tetsuya stood.

“Please excuse me,” he muttered.

He practically sprinted down the grand hallway.

He threw the front doors wide open.

The morning air hit his burning face.

He needed to find a convenience store.

He needed concealer immediately.

Behind him, Seijuro calmly sipped his tea.

Masaomi returned to his tablet.

"He runs fast," he observed.

"He has excellent stamina," Seijuro replied.

Masaomi sighed.

"...Please try not to give the household staff anything to gossip about before breakfast."

Chapter Text

The days that followed seemed to slip together.

Not because they were forgettable.

Because they were happy.

⸻

Morning practices became routine.

Tetsuya would arrive at the gym just a few minutes before everyone else.

Without fail, Seijuro would already be there.

Sometimes reviewing practice plans.

Sometimes reading.

Sometimes simply waiting.

The moment Tetsuya walked through the doors, Seijuro would look up almost immediately.

"...Good morning."

"Good morning."

It became such a familiar exchange that even the first-years began expecting it.

⸻

The Generation of Miracles, unfortunately, noticed everything.

"...They're doing it again," Aomine sighed one morning.

"What?"

"'Good morning.'"

Kise looked offended. "They say it like they're married!"

"We're under eighteen," Midorima replied.

"They're clearly not."

"...That's somehow less convincing than I expected," Aomine muttered.

⸻

Lunches grew louder.

Mostly because Kise insisted they all eat together.

He claimed it was for "team bonding."

Everyone else knew it was because he enjoyed watching Seijuro and Tetsuya without either of them realizing they were being observed.

"Kurokocchi, try this!"

"...Thank you."

"...Akashicchi, stop looking at him like that."

Seijuro blinked. "Like what?"

"...Like he's the only person at the table."

"He's sitting directly across from me."

"That's not what I meant!"

Momoi laughed so hard she nearly dropped her drink.

⸻

Practice remained intense.

Coach Shirogane accepted nothing less.

Yet somehow...

Even exhausting drills became enjoyable.

Aomine challenged everyone to races they inevitably lost to him.

Murasakibara complained through every lap before casually finishing first anyway.

Midorima lectured Kise about proper shooting form.

Kise ignored him.

Then immediately asked him for advice five minutes later.

Nothing changed.

But everything changed.

⸻

One afternoon, it began raining just as practice ended.

Students crowded beneath the entrance, waiting for the weather to clear.

Tetsuya looked outside.

"...I forgot my umbrella."

"You always forget your umbrella," Momoi sighed.

"I remember sometimes."

"...Twice."

"That's more than once."

Before Momoi could respond, Seijuro quietly opened his own umbrella.

"...Come on."

Tetsuya looked at him.

"We'll both fit."

"...Thank you."

They walked home together beneath the same umbrella.

Not because there wasn't enough room.

Because somehow...

They always ended up walking just a little closer than necessary.

⸻

The Akashi estate gradually began feeling less like somewhere Tetsuya visited...

And more like somewhere he belonged.

The staff greeted him by name.

His favorite vanilla milkshake was already waiting whenever he stayed over.

An extra toothbrush permanently occupied the guest bathroom.

Even Masaomi had stopped asking whether Tetsuya would be joining them for dinner.

He simply assumed he would.

"Good evening, Tetsuya."

"...Good evening, Masaomi-san."

"I hope you brought your appetite."

Tetsuya smiled.

"...I'll do my best."

Seijuro glanced at him knowingly.

"You'd better."

"...I know."

⸻

Slowly...

Without either of them realizing exactly when it happened...

The distance between them disappeared.

They no longer hesitated before sitting beside one another.

Walking together became automatic.

Hands brushed.

Shoulders bumped.

Quiet conversations stretched long into the evenings whenever Tetsuya stayed over.

Comfort settled naturally between them.

It wasn't something either of them worked toward.

It simply... happened.

⸻

One evening, while leaving the gym together, Tetsuya spoke without looking up from the novel in his hands.

"...Seijuro."

"Hm?"

"...I think I've become spoiled."

Seijuro smiled faintly.

"How so?"

"When we don't walk home together..."

He paused, as though carefully choosing the words.

"...The walk feels longer."

Seijuro was quiet.

"I know what you mean."

Tetsuya finally looked up.

"You do?"

"...The house feels much larger on the nights you aren't there."

For a moment...

Neither of them spoke.

Then Tetsuya smiled.

A real one.

Small.

Soft.

One that reached his eyes.

"...I'm glad."

Seijuro returned the smile just as easily.

"So am I."

Neither of them noticed Kise watching from the school gates.

He slowly grabbed Aomine by the shoulders.

"...They're so disgustingly cute."

Aomine didn't even bother arguing this time.

"Yeah." He sighed. "...They kinda are."

For once...

No one teased them.

Because watching Seijuro and Tetsuya grow closer, day by day, felt less like witnessing the beginning of a romance...

And more like watching two people quietly become each other's home.

Chapter Text

Winter arrived quietly.

The basketball season continued.

Exams came and went.

The days that had once felt uncertain slowly became ordinary.

Not because life had become boring.

Because happiness had become routine.

⸻

The Generation of Miracles remained exactly as loud as ever.

Kise still complained whenever someone ignored him.

Aomine still skipped practice whenever he thought he could get away with it.

Midorima still insisted everyone's luck depended on their lucky item.

Murasakibara still ate enough snacks to concern the entire coaching staff.

Momoi still tried to keep everyone organized.

Some things simply never changed.

⸻

Others did.

Tetsuya no longer walked home alone.

If Seijuro finished student council first, he waited outside Tetsuya's classroom.

If Tetsuya finished practice first, he waited outside the student council room.

Neither of them had ever discussed it.

It simply became something they did.

⸻

The Akashi estate eventually stopped preparing the guest room whenever Tetsuya stayed over.

Not because there wasn't space.

Because every member of the household knew exactly where he would end up.

No one questioned it anymore.

Not even Masaomi.

One evening, as the three of them sat together after dinner, Masaomi quietly folded his newspaper.

"Tetsuya."

"...Yes?"

"You've become family."

Tetsuya looked up in surprise.

"...I have?"

"You have."

A small smile crossed Masaomi's face.

"I imagine your parents would be relieved to know you aren't alone."

For a moment...

Tetsuya couldn't find any words.

Then he smiled.

"...Thank you."

⸻

Spring arrived again before anyone realized it.

Cherry blossoms drifted through the school grounds, covering the paths in pale pink.

Practice had ended early.

Most of the team had already gone home.

Only two figures remained on the outdoor court.

Tetsuya bounced a basketball once.

Passed it.

Seijuro caught it effortlessly.

"...One more?"

"One more."

The ball moved quietly between them.

No competition.

No spectators.

No pressure.

Just the familiar rhythm they had built together.

Eventually, Tetsuya caught the ball and tucked it beneath his arm.

"Seijuro."

"Hm?"

"...Do you remember why we started dating?"

Seijuro smiled.

"To stop Father from arranging meetings."

"...And to stop everyone from trying to set me up."

"A remarkably practical agreement."

"It was."

Tetsuya looked out at the cherry blossoms.

"...I thought it would end after a few weeks."

"So did I."

"...Instead..."

He laughed softly.

"...I accidentally fell in love with you."

The words hung gently in the spring air.

Seijuro stepped closer until only a small distance remained between them.

"...I'm rather glad you did."

"Me too."

⸻

The breeze carried another shower of blossoms across the court.

Neither of them hurried to leave.

There was no reason to.

Home wasn't waiting somewhere else anymore.

It was wherever the other happened to be.

⸻

Years later, the Generation of Miracles would remember countless games.

Championships.

Victories.

Impossible passes.

Perfect shots.

But whenever someone asked about Akashi Seijuro and Kuroko Tetsuya...

They never started with basketball.

They always started with the fake relationship.

The one that everyone believed immediately.

The one that somehow fooled only the two people involved.

And whenever Kise reached that part of the story, he would throw his hands into the air dramatically.

"I told you they were in love!"

"You didn't," Aomine would answer.

"I absolutely did!"

"You thought they were weird."

"They were weird!"

"They still are."

Momoi would laugh.

Midorima would adjust his glasses.

Murasakibara would keep eating.

Seijuro would simply look at Tetsuya.

Tetsuya would smile back.

Small.

Quiet.

Content.

Because somewhere along the way...

A fake relationship had become a real one.

A lonely boy had found a family.

And two people who had expected nothing more than a convenient arrangement...

Had found a home in each other.