Chapter Text
“Kurokocchi, I like you,” Ryouta said quietly, unusually shy, heart thudding in his chest. His face felt warm, a new sensation Ryouta hadn’t been sure was even real outside of books. “I. I understand if you don’t feel the same, but-”
“I am flattered, Kise-kun,” Kuroko said, smiling faintly but kindly. Too kindly. Ryouta, despite expecting this outcome, fought to conceal a flinch. Kuroko mercilessly continued, “but I am with my soulmate, and am not attracted to you romantically.” He didn’t say anything else, and merely stared at Ryouta with his usual wide-eyed blankness.
For a long, silent moment, Ryouta felt both completely empty and utterly mortified, like an eavesdropper to his own shame. Then he gathered himself together enough to give Kuroko a tiny smile. Kuroko gave Ryouta one of his own, as if in that moment he understood why Ryouta had pulled such a harebrained move so close to nationals.
Ryouta sighed, slumping a little. “Thanks anyways, Kurokocchi.” He turned his back to the wall and slid down to the floor. “Well, you soulmate’s a lucky girl. Guy. Whoever,” he said, lolling his head over to the left, giving Kuroko a sideways glance.
“I am the lucky one to have been destined to be with him,” Kuroko said, smiling softly at the cloudless blue sky. Ryouta had never before seen such an affectionate look on Kuroko’s face, and was abruptly relieved that he had been rejected.
“Good,” Ryouta said fiercely. “You deserve someone nice, Kurokocchi.”
Kuroko raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing else. Ryouta closed his eyes, feeling the warm summer breeze against his sweaty skin. Inside the gym, he could faintly hear Akashi’s calm voice gently chiding Murasakibara, who was whining about chips.
“Have you met your soulmate yet, Kise-kun?”
“Hm?” Ryouta asked, raising his head. “No, I haven’t.” He squinted up at Kuroko, shading his eyes with a hand. “Y’know, when I was young, I saw a fortune-teller who told me I’d find my soulmate after I drown and before I rest in the sea. What do you think about that?”
Kuroko stared at him.
“I know, right?” Ryouta laughed. “Do you think my soulmate’s a mermaid?”
“Perhaps,” Kuroko offered. “Or maybe a fisherman.”
“Or a navy officer,” Ryouta said excitedly, getting more into the gist of it, “or a life guard, or a scuba diver, or-”
“What are you two dawdling for,” Midorima snapped, refilling his water bottle. “I do not remember you being excused to gossip.”
“You’re ruining the moment, Midorimacchi,” Ryouta complained, “you should really learn a thing or two about timing.”
Midorima rolled his eyes. “Get back in the gym.”
Ryouta gave Kuroko a conspiratorial grin and got to his feet. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for being a nicer person than Midorimacchi, Kurokocchi. That’s why I’ll buy you a popsicle later and Midorimacchi can get his own.”
“I do not need you to buy popsicles for me!” Midorima yelled back as a corner of Kuroko’s mouth twitched into a smile.
“Popsicles?” Aomine asked, sticking his head out the gym entrance. “Did someone say we’re getting popsicles?” From inside the gym, Ryouta could hear Murasakibara asking the same thing. Akashi’s exasperated but fond response turned into background noise as Midorima turned his glare onto Aomine and began berating him instead.
Kise, listening to all of this, suddenly had a terrible longing for Nijimura-senpai’s presence.
“Kise-kun, I want a vanilla-flavored popsicle,” Kuroko suddenly declared, making Aomine jump as he suddenly noticed his partner.
“I don’t think that’s a popsicle anymore, Kurokocchi. That’s ice cream.”
“Well, it’s in a popsicle shape, isn’t it?” Aomine wondered, slinging an arm around Kuroko and giving him a halfhearted noogie that Kuroko immediately ducked out of.
“I promised to buy a popsicle, not a popsicle-shaped ice cream,” Ryouta protested, putting his hands on his hips. Then he gasped, and pointed accusingly at Aomine. “You’re just trying to trick me into buying ice cream for everyone!”
“Kise-chin’s buying ice cream for everyone?” Murasakibara asked, interested.
“No! That’s not what I said!”
“Thank you very much, Kise-kun.”
“Kurokocchi! Not you too!”
Later that night when the moon was high above and most middle school basketball players were sound asleep, Ryouta stared unblinkingly at his ceiling. He clutched his chest and felt the warm pulse of his soulbond echo through him like a war drum.