Chapter Text
Author POV
Cheers crashed against the gym walls, loud enough to rattle the floorboards. The crowd surged to its feet for the winning team, Vorpal Swords. Across the court, Jabberwock stood frozen in a knot of disbelief and anger, like the applause was a language they couldn’t understand.
One by one, the foreign players turned away.
“Wait, please.”
The voice was soft, but it cut through the noise. When they looked back, Kuroko Tetsuya was already walking toward them, pale hair damp with sweat, expression as blank as ever—and smiling.
“Let’s play again sometime, Nash-san.” He held out his hand, palm steady despite the tremor still running through his body.
For a heartbeat, Nash just stared. Up close, he could see the skin scraped on Kuroko’s knuckles, the still-slow rise and fall of his chest. This kid had been thrown around the court by giants and still somehow stood there, asking for more.
Nash huffed, turning his head. “Idiot,” he muttered.
His hand still came up. Instead of taking Kuroko’s, he reached past it to ruffle the blue hair, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. A small, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
On Vorpal’s bench, several jaws dropped.
“Was that… a smile?” Kagami whispered.
Kise rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought, suu~.”
Akashi, standing slightly apart, only smiled. Of course. Tetsuya always did this—slipping past armor no one else could crack.
“He is something else, isn’t he?” The words echoed softly in his mind, where the court had gone still and quiet.
Oreshi stood there, back straight, hands in his pockets. His ruby-red eyes watched Kuroko and Nash with an almost fond exasperation as he spoke to the other presence in their shared space.
“Hmm. Well, Tetsuya has always exceeded our expectations,” Bokushi replied. His tone was flat, disinterested on the surface, but the faint curve at his lips betrayed him.
Oreshi laughed, light and genuine. “You’re right. Kuroko really is an enigma.”
“Yeah. If only I’d met him first.”
The last part slipped out quieter, almost swallowed by the distant roar of the crowd. But in their mindscape, where every thought rang clear, Oreshi heard it. He turned, startled, catching the shadow of a sad smile on Bokushi’s face.
“You know…” Oreshi’s gaze softened. “He’s already forgiven you.”
Bokushi looked away, jaw clenching. “And that’s his weakness. He’s too kind.” There was no mockery in his voice this time, only something that sounded suspiciously like fear. “Someone will take advantage of him if he stays like that.”
Before Oreshi could argue, a small tug pulled at the front of his jersey. The gym snapped back into focus: bright lights, fading cheers, the smell of sweat and resin. Kuroko was standing right in front of him, his hand still raised from where he’d tugged Akashi’s shirt.
“…Akashi-kun, is something wrong?”
Speak of the devil—no, angel—and he appears.
Kuroko’s face was as expressionless as ever, but the faint crease between his brows and the worry swimming in those sky-blue eyes were impossible to miss if you knew where to look. Akashi always knew where to look.
“No, everything’s okay,” Oreshi said.
The crease deepened. Kuroko’s stare didn’t waver. Oreshi exhaled slowly. “…It’s just that Bokushi, the other me, is worried about you still not forgiving him.”
In the back of his skull, Bokushi bristled. ‘Oi. Don’t say unnecessary things.’
Oreshi ignored the glare, the empty threats. Kuroko, on the contrary, went still, as if the words had struck him harder than any foul during the game.
He stepped closer, lifting both hands to cup Akashi’s cheeks. His fingers were cool against overheated skin.
“I have never blamed you, Akashi-kun,” he said, voice firm in a way it rarely was. “No one is guilty of this. Please don’t beat yourself up over it.”
His thumbs brushed lightly against Akashi’s skin, grounding him.
“I’m glad I can see this side of you,” Kuroko continued. “You always keep your composure and never let others see it. So, yes, I’m shocked… but I’m also happy I get to know this you, even if I’m still upset about the rift in our team you caused.”
He smiled then, small and fragile, but honest.
“I am happy to know the other Akashi-kun.”
The world narrowed to that smile.
Something in Akashi’s chest stuttered. The left eye that had been pure red a moment before bled into molten gold, the shift rippling through his mind as Bokushi took the front.
From his vantage point, Bokushi watched Kuroko through mismatched eyes. The boy was still there, close enough that he could feel the warmth from his hands on Akashi’s cheeks. His heart—Akashi’s heart—thudded so loudly it seemed to echo in his ears.
“Tetsuya… I…”
The words caught, too unfamiliar to force out. Before he could try again, Kuroko’s smile faded back into his usual blankness. His fingers tightened slightly, and then—
“Ow,” Bokushi muttered as Kuroko pinched his cheeks.
“But…” Kuroko went on, tone flat but eyes steady, “I am also mad at Akashi-kun. Both of you always take all the burden on yourselves. Akashi-kun is smart, but both of you can be idiots sometimes.”
He let go, much to the disappointment of both personalities.
“We’re friends, aren’t we? We’ll always be there for you, no matter how far apart we are. And, Akashi-kun, if I catch you blaming yourself one more time, I will jab you in the ribs. Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun say I have a strong jab.”
There was a flicker of smugness—barely there, but real—in his eyes.
“Tetsuya…” Bokushi managed, rubbing his cheek. “You realize you just called me an idiot and threatened me, right?”
Oreshi’s laughter rang through their shared mind. Out loud, Akashi only chuckled, the sound startling the teammates who had turned to see which personality currently stood on the court.
“Yes,” Kuroko replied calmly. “Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun also say that I’m suicidal. Can I hope that my death will, at the very least, be quick and painless?”
Akashi blinked. Then a laugh bubbled up before he could stop it, warm and unrestrained. Several of the others stiffened when they saw the golden eye, halfway between fear and disbelief.
“Hmm… Then, how about this?”
Without warning, he stepped forward, arms wrapping around Kuroko and pulling him into a hug. For a second, Kuroko froze, eyes wide, body unsure what to do with the sudden closeness. He had never… no, it had been a very long time since anyone had held him like this.
By the time his brain started to catch up, Akashi had already pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Heat rose under Kuroko’s skin, the faintest blush dusting his cheeks. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, but Bokushi saw it. He smirked, satisfied, and slowly let the gold drain from his left eye until both irises were ruby again.
“I am sorry for my actions, Kuroko,” Oreshi said.
He wasn’t, not entirely. But he was sorry for the pain he’d caused.
The day blurred after that—victory speeches, showers, the buzzing warmth of shared food. At Kuroko’s insistence, everyone ended up at his parents’ house—mansion, really—to celebrate. Much to Vorpal Swords’ chagrin, Kuroko had invited Jabberwock as well. They were less hostile to him now, a bit more careful in their insults, but they remained jerks to everyone else.
As afternoon melted into dusk and dusk into quiet twilight, one by one the players dragged themselves off to their assigned rooms. Laughter and distant snoring faded behind closed doors. Eventually, only Kuroko remained awake.
He sat on the edge of his bed, fingers tracing the frame of the newest photograph on his nightstand. Vorpal Swords, Seirin, Jabberwock—all crammed together in the living room downstairs, faces flushed with food and victory and something fragile that felt like peace.
He smiled faintly, then reached for the older photo beside it: Momoi and the Generation of Miracles clustered around him on a streetball court, candles melting on a small cake in his hands. A birthday from another lifetime.
'What would have happened if we had all stayed together?'
The question thudded through his head, heavy and familiar. 'If nothing had changed… would it have been possible to be happy like this?'
He lay back, both frames held close against his chest.
'Would it have been possible to save them all before they fell off the right track?'
“I wish I could go back,” he thought, the words a whisper in the dark. “I want to change their paths… but I don’t want to lose Seirin either. They’ve given me so much happiness and light. Coach, Hyuuga-senpai, Teppei-nii-san… Kagami-kun…”
The ceiling blurred. His eyelids grew heavy.
“If only… just one more chance…”
He didn’t feel sleep take him. One moment he was awake, drowning in what-ifs; the next, darkness rose up and swallowed everything—the room, the photos, the warmth of the day—leaving only the echo of his wish, hanging in the void.
Somewhere, something answered.
I AM BACK!!! 😭😭😭😭 I use AI help now for grammar and tone, I hope you like it 😘😘😘.
I am sorry for the long hiatus.🙏🙏
Oh, and if you can please help me, your help can help me focus on more writing. ❤️❤️❤️
See to this: Carrd