Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kuroko tried not to grip the wallet in his hands too tight at the memory of being blatantly disregarded and discarded yet again as he walked down the hallway. Momoi walked next to him, completely silent, as if his inner turmoil was splayed across his blank face. Perhaps his hold on his emotions had loosened. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his grip and allowed the all too familiar sense of a wall falling over his features.

The sound of the crowd ahead and the court below grew louder as they turned a corner into a more narrow hallway that led to the seating area of the arena. Seirin were well into the second quarter, currently in the middle of a stealing battle with their opponents in green. Getting closer to the railing, Kuroko spotted the bespectacled male whom the wallet he held belonged to yelling indistinguishable orders to his teammates. The captain, he presumed.

The two Teiko students spent longer than they intended watching the game. Seirin were leading by a small margin, and it was obvious they were good, but the opposite team were clearly holding back. Momoi clicked her tongue, frowning as she regarded both teams. "The run-and-gun tactic sure works for them, but they're draining their own energy and using up too much stamina. It's not like they've got a lot of players to sub in. And the other team…"

The girl paused and Kuroko's brow twitched as they saw a player in white nearly keel over as two players in green elbow his sides.

"That's a foul! They clearly did it on purpose!"

Pale blue orbs slid over to the unmoving referee, taking note of the positions of them and the players.

"The referees can't foul something they didn't see," his voice was barely loud enough to hear amongst the cheers and yelling and squeaking going on. Momoi murmured more of her displeasure to herself as Kuroko kept silent, agreeing that while the physical play is not something he'd normally condone, the timing and placing of it was too well thought of not to be recognized as brilliance, twisted as it may be. Not a minute later, the timer rang as red flashed on the scoreboard, 45-50, in favour of Seirin, and a voice over the speakers announced the end of the first half and a 10 minute break. Taking it as their cue to go, Kuroko handed over the lost wallet to a passing official before they headed out. Spying a bathroom sign along the hallway, he pointed at it.

"I'll make it quick."

Momoi nodded. "I'll go ahead, then. See you in the lobby."

The boy nodded and separated from her as she continued on. Walking into the bathroom, Kuroko wasn't all that surprised to see the same green jersey he'd seen from afar by the sinks.  What he hadn't expected, however, was for deep, obsidian eyes to lock onto his figure the moment he stepped into the comfort room. Dark eyes bore into his own pale ones before travelling down and widening. Thick, bushy brows rose and blended into the dark, wet strands that hung over the other's eyes. A grin that screamed mischief and danger stretched over attractive features as the player turned to fully study the smaller boy.

"Looky here, a little Teiko brat. Oi, kid, do you even get to play with those crayons running around all the time?"

The tone was sardonic and mean, but the timbre was smooth and Kuroko thought that if the high school player could speak without sounding so mocking, he'd get along with way more people. Tilting his head, the younger replied. "Yes, actually."

If he thought the older’s brows couldn't go any higher, he was proven wrong quickly. A laugh tore through the raven. "Really, now? What, did they pity you or something?" Dark eyes narrowed suddenly, a different gleam in the darkness of them. "Don't tell me… you're one of them, aren't you? Those Miracle freaks."

Kuroko bristled, about to reprimand the other at being rude for calling them freaks. He stopped himself as the simmering mixture of guilt, anger, bitterness, anger, grief, and helplessness spiked within him once again. What they were doing— toying with opponents, playing amongst themselves, crushing others— was it really wrong to call them such when they acted exactly like that?

"Oh, you are ." The grin on the other's face grew even wider, much more sinister looking. "By the look on your face, I take it you don't like them very much?"

Kuroko did. Had . When they were just kids who loved the game for the heck of it and smiled and played as a team, he did. He still liked them even then, but his affection for them was slowly being buried by the bitter sadness that began to wrap itself around every memory he ever had with the Miracles. He used to be proud to be able to support and play with the prodigies, but all he could think about at that moment was how much he was beginning to hate the very name 'Generation of Miracles'. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he deflected the question.

"I don't quite like how you and your team play. You shouldn't hurt players deliberately like that. That's not basketball."

A snort and a roll of the eyes. "A goody-two-shoes, of fucking course. It's not like the refs will believe you. And it's just a few bruises anyway, I've got more surprises in store for those weaklings."

Kuroko frowned at this, taking a few more steps inside and closer to the player. "Please don't curse, and please don't injure anyone. They've worked hard to play here and it's not nice to step on another team like that, much less possibly ruin someone's ability to play."

"You're a blunt bastard, I'll give you that. And why should I even take orders from a squirt like you, huh?" The intimidating sneer did not make the younger falter at all.

"It's a request."

"Whatever. Why should I do you a favour like that? I don't even know your name."

"Kuroko Tetsuya."

"Nice to meet you, Kuro-chan. Mind your own damn business."

The younger tilted his head, looking up at the raven with a contemplative expression. "Would being able to ask for a favour back make you reconsider?"

A snort. "And what the hell would I be able to get from you?"

"Whatever you can think of, I'll leave it up to you to decide. You know where I go to school. You can drop by whenever you want to collect it."

The older hummed as he faced the sinks again and rinsed his hands. After a few moments, he turned the faucet off and faced Kuroko again, the smirk back on his face. "You know what? Fine. I'll do what you want for now. I wanna see how far I can push someone like you. But mark your words that when the time comes, you're doing whatever the fuck I tell you to do. No objections."

Kuroko bowed and nodded. "Thank you."

With a sneer, the raven flicked water at the younger’s face and sauntered towards the door. "I'll see you around, Kuro-chan! Try not to die before I collect your favour. I'd hate to give you CPR before beating you up myself."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name," the younger called after him. A sharp grin was tossed over the shoulder, dark orbs swirling with sadistic excitement. "It's Hanamiya Makoto, don't fucking forget it."

And then the raven was gone, leaving Kuroko in silence. Finishing his business quickly and washing his hands, the pale, blue haired boy barely noticed that he'd returned to his team. Akashi looked him over impassively, dichromatic eyes cold and sharp as ever, before nodding and commanding the team to head out. Kuroko ignored Kise's incessant chatter to his right and Momoi's worried glances to his left. His mind was too preoccupied with dark eyes and sharp grins to sink into the usual detachment he'd been drowning in recently.

Kirisaki…

Hanamiya might’ve felt a little dissatisfied with how the game turned out, but the look on the bespectacled captain's face when they actually managed to trip up Seirin's centre accidentally was one for the books. His fellow Uncrowned King had only gotten away with a sprain that would keep him out of commission for a week or two, but the raven thought they could've done more than that even if they weren't actively trying to do anything.

Walking on his way home, he noticed an old Basketball Weekly magazine on the shelf of the convenient store he just passed. Back tracking, he pulled the magazine out and flipped through it, eventually finding the section about the Generation of Miracles he knew he’d find inside. Skimming through the article, Hanamiya found himself frowning. It had mentioned each Miracle by name, yet there was nothing on Kuroko Tetsuya. He was beginning to think that the boy had lied to him when his eyes went to the group photo in the upper half of one of the pages. It took him blinking a few times and focusing more intensely than he usually would. Like an apparition, a small, pale boy with light blue hair and blank eyes suddenly appeared in the empty space beneath Aomine Daiki’s arm. Hanamiya was surprised the boy could disappear even in photograph, almost like he was—

Apparently those Miracle weirdos have some sort of phantom or ghost in their ranks. Maybe that’s why they’re so freaky and strong, they’ve got somebody in the shadows helping ‘em.

Hara’s words from the other day flitted through his mind and Hanamiya had to use the magazine rack to steady him as laughter overcame him. He could barely believe his luck. The boy from the restroom was the rumoured Phantom Sixth Man of the Generation of Miracles, and because of a few reckless words, Hanamiya now had something to hold over the other.

Leaving the magazine behind, Hanamiya hurried home with a smirk on his face. He had plans to make and a middle school finals game to watch. If his intuition was correct, the behaviour of the boy during their meeting proving it to be, then those crayonheads had fucked up big time and were about to lose the very person who could’ve been their saving grace.

Hanamiya was about to show Kuroko Tetsuya the other benefits of the darkness and shadows he favoured so much.

Chapter Text

Kuroko could barely breathe. It felt like he had stopped breathing altogether when he had seen those giant, red numbers flashing on the scoreboard. At that point, he couldn’t even bother staying to hear what Akashi or any of the others had to say. He knew the others had already turned their backs at him at that point, he just didn’t think he would’ve done the same. But when the look on Ogiwara’s face continued to haunt him with every step he took as he dashed from the stadium without looking back, he felt like it would’ve been easier if he had been the first to walk away. Perhaps then he would’ve been able to hold onto some of his dignity.

He didn’t even know where he was running to, he just had to get away. Weaving around people on the street was easy, especially when they didn’t notice even if someone had bumped into them. He was just a cold gust of wind, a passing blur, a barely there apparition— Kuroko kept thinking he would have been better off just disappearing entirely.

He finally ran out of stamina and skidded to a stop. He was surprised he even lasted as long as he did. Looking at his surroundings to figure out where he had ended up, Kuroko found that he could no longer hold back the tears that had been building up for way longer than the past half hour. It took him a long while to collect himself before he stepped into the street court, hoping that the growing hatred in him wouldn’t fully take his passion away from him.

Hanamiya had never known another team that was worse than Kirisaki Daiichi, not until he watched multi-coloured devils dressed in white and blue play the final game of the middle school Nationals. It was one thing to toy with your opponents, and what the Teiko brats were doing was a whole other thing. Hanamiya had wondered if it was just laziness or arrogance that allowed— because Teiko could have easily kept the other team’s score at 0— some baskets to go through. It was only when the final shot was made with a rebound in the opposite basket that Hanamiya found himself truly speechless for the first time. He couldn’t even find it in himself to laugh at the beautiful masterpiece the redheaded Teiko captain had orchestrated, not when he watched the gut wrenching expression wash over the face of the short, pale blue haired boy that had burst through the doors on court not even a full minute ago.

The boy stood there for only a few stiff seconds, he didn’t look like he was on the winning team at all, before just… disappearing. No matter how much Hanamiya strained his eyes, he couldn’t see the other boy at all, which could only mean that he had left and ran away— which meant Hanamiya no longer had to stay to see monsters be awarded for being monsters.

He stood and didn’t even say goodbye to his team, despite Hara yelling after him to buy them dinner for dragging them to watch the damn game. Hanamiya had somewhere to go and someone to find. Glancing one last time at the court and eerily found himself meeting the bi-coloured eyes of the captain of the so-called Generation of Miracles. The redhead didn’t even blink before turning around to join the rest of his team. Hanamiya had to snort before heading on his way.

At least he was fully aware he was a bastard on and off court. He wondered if Teiko’s team of brats even knew what kind of devils they had turned into. He doubted they would even find it in themselves to care.

Kuroko kept replaying the past few years in his head, going over every single memory he had with each of the Miracles. He couldn’t understand how things could have gone so bad for them. Even when they fought with each other, they always had each other’s back. Aomine was rude and bad at social cues, but he was always willing to go with Kuroko to the bookstore or convenient store and would always make sure Momoi got home safe. Kise was too energetic and made you feel small even when he was smiling, but he was overly generous to those he cared about with his time, affection, effort, and money. Midorima was a tsundere and spoke harshly, but he was honest when no one else could be and showed his affections through discrete actions. Murasakibara was lazy and spoke down a lot, but he always made sure everyone remembered to eat on time and would even offer to help with homework when Midorima couldn’t be convinced and Momoi was too busy. Akashi…

Akashi was kind. He always made sure the team was well provided with anything they could need. He would forgo doing his various responsibilities sometimes if the Miracles wanted to grab food together or take a day off to head to the arcade just to have fun. He made sure Momoi’s suggestions were heard by the coach and tried out during practice. He made sure Midorima didn’t act up when the others would start riling him up. He made sure Murasakibara regulated his diet and didn’t just eat snacks and candies. He made sure Kise wouldn’t be mobbed or followed by fans. He made sure Aomine was never bored in training by giving him more to do. Sure, he could run them ragged and would occasionally be harsh, but it was always out of worry and care.

The Akashi he knew wouldn’t have let the elephant in the room grow to be as big as it was. The Akashi he knew would have had them sit down and talk it out. The Akashi he knew wouldn’t have allowed the change in rules for the first string and made all of them practise regularly. The Akashi he knew wouldn’t have implemented the number games just to keep the others occupied. The Akashi he knew wouldn’t have put up with all the baseless rumours going around about the team.

The Akashi he knew wouldn’t have taken his words of playing all out to mean to play around the opponent, not when it would have betrayed Kuroko’s trust— but perhaps that was the problem. Maybe Kuroko had put his trust in the wrong people. Or maybe they were the right people, and he was just the wrong fit for them. Just like how the moon’s light is simply a reflection of the sun, Kuroko was just a shade of their brilliance. A group of lights would have no need for shadows, and they made that perfectly clear to him when even his encouragement from the benches meant even less than his silence.

It was hard to find someone that didn’t want to be found, especially when said person already had a very low presence on a daily basis. The thing with emotions, though, is that the stronger you feel them, the more seen you are. It definitely helped that Hanamiya knew the area quite well and where all the street courts are. Kuroko might hate basketball right now, but that didn’t mean shit to his basketball-filled brain. It took him visiting a couple courts before finding the right one. He stayed by the entrance for a while, just leaning on the fence as he watched the pale boy aimlessly dribble the ball in his hands without moving from his spot and not shooting it even once. He watched the back of the other and waited a few beats before speaking up.

"You're looking a little pathetic over there, Kuro-chan. Not in the mood to celebrate?"

He felt the edge of his lip slightly tug up at the tension suddenly flooding the other’s back. Kuroko turned to face him, face coldly blank despite the obvious hurt and anger Hanamiya knew was there, but he said nothing. The raven shook his head, pushing off the fence and walking closer.

"Aw, c'mon, no witty comeback for me this time? Tsk, you're no fun. I must say, even when I figured out what was going on, it wasn't until your purple giant threw in the last ball that it really sunk in. Man, that captain of yours sure has got more than a couple of sadistic bones in him for pulling that shit, and that's coming from me! You must be really angry right now, probably have been for a while.” His eyes narrowed when he noticed the other’s eyes shutter for a split second. “But there's something else, too. What, did'ya know someone from the other team? A friend of yours? Did he break as well, like all the other players your team had played against? Did your friend look at you and call you a monster, too? They probably did. Unless, of course, it was one of them , which would make sense since you’re wearing such a disgustingly heartbroken expression right now—“

Hanamiya automatically yelled out a curse at the sharp stinging in his palms, the ball that was thrown at his face bouncing away with some vengeance. Looking back at the younger with wide eyes, he couldn’t help the ecstatic cackle that burst out of him. “ Ahhh , your pain truly is the greatest masterpiece out there, Kuro-chan! Pity that I’m not the cause of it.”

The only giveaway of the other’s ire and distaste was the twitching of his fingers and the downturned brow he was trying to force away. Kuroko’s tone was even colder than when they first talked, words sharp and pinched. “If your only goal in coming all the way here is to gloat and offend me to my face, then I congratulate you, Hanamiya-kun. Now please leave.”

The raven tutted, walking to where the ball that almost smashed his visuals had ended up by the benches by the opposite fence. “Ah, but there’s no fun in that.”

“If you’re looking for fun, I suggest heading down to the arcade a few streets away rather than wasting your time here.”

“Trying to get rid of me so fast, Kuro-chan? My, my, so rude.” Hanamiya bent down to retrieve the ball and stood back up with a smirk on his face. “Not as rude as your lovely crayon crew, though.”

Kuroko turned his face away, just as the clouds shifted in the sky and moonlight haloed him in silver. Hanamiya had the thought that he truly was looking at a phantom, but this boy was more of a ghost than a prodigy— and the thing Hanamiya hated more than seeing his opponents still so full of life was seeing no emotion at all. Despair was better than indifference, and he knew that the other would give him the best reactions if he could just manage to pry them out of him. Then an idea came to him, and it felt like the universe was finally clicking into place.

“Say, I know just the thing that'll help you get back at those freaky teammates of yours. To even the field out and all that bullshit.”

Another twitch in the younger’s hand. “Regardless of my personal feelings towards them, I am not going to hurt them like you would, Hanamiya-kun.”

“Ay, you don’t even know what I would do, but that’s not what I’m hinting at.”

"What, then?”

"Come to Kirisaki."

A pause. Kuroko finally turned to look at him again, confusion finally breaking the cold indifference. "I beg your pardon?"

Hanamiya toyed with the ball in his hand, spinning it around lazily as he walked to the edges of the shadows he was cloaked beneath. It felt symbolic, him bathed in darkness and the other in light. It made ‘corrupting’ the other all the more exhilarating. “You have your own idea of how basketball should be played, and it’s not ‘their’  style. Kirisaki plays much rougher than your sly Miracles, I admit, but we’re honest with our opponents if not with the officials. What was that saying, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’? We can ruin it for them just enough that they might see how shitty they are in comparison to us.”

Though the younger kept silent for a long while, the raven could see that Kuroko was genuinely thinking it over. Perhaps if they had met earlier— when the phantom hadn’t been as broken as he currently was— and Hanamiya had made the same offer, Kuroko probably would have turned him down immediately. The older truly was lucky, meeting the other at the time that he did. It made him easier to sway.

“You ended up like this because you’re too good, Kuro-chan. I think it’s time you change tactics. Don’t even try to give me that crap about you giving up on basketball. You were just gonna be a brooding, pathetic coward for a while, but you and I both know that you would’ve eventually found yourself back on court in one way or another, and much sooner than later. And believe it or not, we actually have the same goal. You want to win as much as I do, and I have a whole team that would be willing to actually listen to you. Ain’t that the problem you had with your previous team?” Hanamiya couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Though calling Teiko a ‘team’ wouldn’t be fitting, eh? And if anything, I'm just cashing in your end of that little deal we made. So, what do you say? Wanna see what it's like on the other side of light? I reckon I can make your shadows even darker."

The raven waited patiently as the younger mulled  over his words. He deliberately made sure to sound condescending enough to kickstart the other’s emotional response but also objective enough to make his points seem logical and reasonable.

Kuroko eventually looked up. His eyes remained cold, but there was a fire behind them that wasn’t there before. Hanamiya thought that the fires of hell looked exactly like that, and he couldn’t help but grin at the victory he already saw coming.

“I’ll think about it and let you know. However, should I agree, I refuse to play dirty like you do.”

A shrug. The older already knew he got what he wanted, a few concessions were nothing. “Then you get to call the shots when you’re on court. I’ve got both captain and coach privileges now, so what I say goes. If I say you call the shots, none of the others will even think of arguing or complaining.”

Hanamiya smiled, a thing between a sneer and a smirk that worked well for him in a way. He held the other’s ball up in offering, still not moving from his spot in the shade. “Even a selfish person like me is willing to compromise if it means snatching away a diamond someone mistook for a rock, and you really are a fucking diamond in the rough, Kuro-chan. A shame those idiots didn’t appreciate you enough. Rest assured that I won’t be making the same mistakes.”

Twisted joy coursed through his veins when Kuroko walked over to join him in his darkness.

Kuroko walked silently down the hall, stopping just outside the door of the gym where Meiko’s basketball club trained and practised. Peeking a look through the ajar door, he could see that though there were some boys doing drills, he knew that there were less than their original numbers. He simply watched them go through the motions as if on autopilot. His mind automatically picked up on areas that some players could improve on before he had to consciously stop himself from thinking. Someone spoke up from behind him, saving himself from his own thoughts.

“Based on your uniform, you must be Ogiwara’s Teiko friend.”

The mention of the school made Kuroko's lips twitch down subconsciously as the familiar bitter taste returned to his tongue. He calmly turned to face Meiko's basketball club's captain with his usual blank expression, bowing in greeting. "Yes, sorry for intruding. My name’s Kuroko Tetsuya."

A nod. “Yeah, Ogiwara liked talking about you.”

A sharp pain shot through his heart but Kuroko only nodded back, saying nothing on it. The other boy studied him, eyes flitting from his face to the gym behind him, expression sombre, before sighing and looking away, shoulders dropping. "Listen, I'm pretty sure you're not like those assholes you call teammates, and I know Ogiwara's a good reference of character, but I really can't handle even looking at anyone from that damn school. Not while everything's still fresh."

The light blue haired boy nodded in sympathy, bowing at the waist again. "I understand. Though it may not amount to much, please allow me still to extend my apologies in place of the others. What they did wasn't right and… I hope that the scars they left on you hadn't entirely taken away your love for the sport."

When he straightened up, the captain was giving him a long contemplative look. "Can't say I entirely like it right now, but I can speak for some of my teammates and maybe a bunch of the other players your school played that you Miracles sure know how to make someone hate something they once loved so much." A soft scoff. "Though, looking at your eyes, you're probably familiar with the feeling."

Kuroko nodded, adding and contradicting nothing. He watched as the captain's eyes fell once again on the open gym door. "He's gone, by the way. Left a couple days ago. He said it was his dad's job again, but I'm pretty sure it's also because he couldn't stand being around stuff and people that reminded him of… well, you know."

Another nod. Dim, pale blue eyes dropped to the ground. He heard the captain sigh and walk away, pause, and return. He startled when calloused hands grabbed his own and dropped something into his open palm. Kuroko raised his gaze to meet that of the other boy. The captain had a grim but determined look in his eye. "Before he left, though, he told me that if anyone could get those Miracles off of their high horse, it would be you. For his sake, and yours, I hope that they didn't break your own resolve as well."

Kuroko looked at the wrist warmers the captain had dropped into his hold and wanted to riot at his words, wanted to yell out in frustration, wanted to cry in grief for what another him— a kinder, less jaded version of him— would've done with this small act of support and encouragement. Instead, he gave the other a somewhat bitter smile. "Thank you. If it's not too much, could you pass on a couple of words from me to Ogiwara-kun?"

The captain nodded amicably. "Sure thing."

The phantom took in a deep breath. "Tell him… please tell him I'm sorry. For what my team did, for what I failed to do… and for what I'm going to do moving forward."

And with those last ominous words, Kuroko walked away from Meiko's captain after giving him another bow, a plan already forming in his head— he had an entrance exam to pass.

Hanamiya was in the middle of figuring out how to upgrade their current training menu when the gym doors swung open with a bang and Hara came skipping in, lips pulled into a grin as he spoke in between chewing his gum. "Oi, cap't! 'Ya got a visitor! Geez, this little guy scared the crap outta me.”

Sneering, the raven rose from where he was slumped on a chair and was ready to cuss at the other when he caught sight of light blue locks. His lips pulled into a smug and satisfied smirk as he stood. "Looks like someone finally made his decision. Well, Kuro-chan? Ready to see what it's like to topple monsters and mortals alike?"

Kuroko gave the other a contemplative stare before a hint of a dark smile curled at the edges of his lips. "Before anything else, I'd like to propose a few ground rules, Hanamiya-kun."

The raven let out a playful hum, adrenaline already making his heart beat faster in anticipation. "Call me by my first name first and then we'll talk."

Thin lips twitched down ever so slightly. "Alright… Makoto-kun."

The raven cackled, dark eyes gleaming brighter than ever. "A bit of hesitation there, but we’ll work on that." Leaning closer till they were barely an inch apart, Hanamiya peered into the pale blue void of Kuroko's orbs with the promise of excitement and chaos.

"Alright, shadow boy, what'cha got in mind?"