"Come to think of it," Kuroko recalls it as if it were yesterday, "the first one to bloom... maybe it wasn't Aomine-kun after all. It was probably Hiroto-kun."

-

Everyone remembers the day Aisaka blew Murasakibara to the floor.

The former had attempted a lane-up, and Murasakibara hadn't expected it to actually reach. It did, so Murasakibara leaped for it-- only for the boy to dunk right through his arms, the sheer force of the blow making the entire hoop shudder and Murasakibara swayed backward, landing hard on his bottom, staring up in fear and wonder.

The entire court silenced.

Aisaka lands on the ground after hanging on the hoop for reverent moments. He looks up to the sky, and the court becomes clearer. The world is sharper, brighter, cleaner-- and Aisaka stands there, unhindered, like a god.

There's almost a flash of indigo in his eyes, electrifying and brokenly static.

For the rest of the practice match, Murasakibara is completely shut down. From his shooting to his charges, Aisaka was there-- posed like an expert, not to obstruct, but to pressure just enough to steal, to tap, and to make him miss.

It was frustrating for Murasakibara. Enough to make him give up and bench himself.

Sekiguchi, a third year, takes his place-- and is met with the same fate, if not worse. It was humiliating to think that Aisaka moved like a veteran player when he was two years younger, but the skill was unmistakable.

-

Aomine challenges him to a One-on-One, and the results are too heartbreakingly clear by the one minute mark.

Momoi keeps score for them, but at some point, she began to falter. When Aisaka broke through twenty points against Aomine's zero, neither of them wanted to continue.

There was something so pathetic in the situation.

The way Aomine looked so mortified, so speechless, sitting on the ground and breathing like he'd just run a marathon-- and there Aisaka stood, barely a sweat broken from his skin.

Aisaka had turned around and ran right out of the gym.

Because it was that pathetic. So pathetic he didn't want to stay to see, to realize it.

He was scared.

Scared of what he was becoming. Scared of becoming something so much more than he was-- scared of becoming a miracle.

-

It's the final stretch of Autumn, and with the Cultural Festival upon them, the clubs began to strain their hours to make time for preparations.

The basketball club itself would be hosting a school-wide streetball tournament, so aside from the seniors and the teacher advisors, no one had any preparations to work for.

"Murasakibara's class is doing a royal restaurant? And he's the Empress?" Aomine isn't sure if he's hearing this right, "what's with that?"

"They told him he could eat as many sweets as he wanted as long as he stays on the throne, and really that's the only way you can operate a cafe with him around," Aisaka shrugs, "and well, they have this model guy in their class and they wanted to see him be a Knight..."

"What's Tetsu doing? He's in that class too, right?" Aomine changes the subject, not at all interested in some no-name blond hottie or something.

"He's a--"

"I'm a butler," came the answer, "I wait tables."

Two identical shrieks echo through the hallway, and Kuroko gets smacked once.

"Aisaka, you really havta stop hitting him every time," Aomine says, half pleading, "he's not me, y'know."

"Tetsuya's better off in a haunted house," Aisaka says, not acknowledging the reprimand at all, "but that's one hell of a crazy setup in your classroom."

"Well," Kuroko recovers, though his eyes are still teary, "it's fine, I guess, we have quite a few people that are good at cooking... Murasakibara-kun will also be helping if he feels like it."

At this point, Kuroko had yet to formally join the first string. Akashi had found him a while prior and talked to him (what they spoke of, Aisaka would probably never know) but Kuroko himself had yet to find an answer for himself.

They've been acquainted, but perhaps it was not yet the time for them to become the Generation of Miracles. It would take some more time.

"What is your class doing, Aomine-kun?"

At the question, Aomine looks away, rubbing the back of his head. "Uhh, mine?" he asks rhetorically, "I think they're doing a play, but I'll be working with the club so I'm only helping with the props."

"A play?" Aisaka repeats with a shine in his eyes, "what's the story?"

Aomine heaves his shoulders, "hell if I know. I think Haizaki's got himself some part of it, though."

All drops silent as Aisaka literally sparkles at the thought.

"I'm gonna go ask him what it is!" he says, and he sounds as excited as an overgrown puppy. He lifts himself from his spot on the table, and he leaves the other two alone where they were.

"Ah, wait, Aisaka! What's your class doing?"

The boy's gone before he answers, so Aomine and Kuroko are left at the cafeteria table as a silence quells over them.

Aomine looks at him and grumbles, "you're really hard to find during school hours, y'know? I was starting to think you were the ghost of that gym and I've been imagining all that practice."

Kuroko blinks, "I'm quite sure that the ghost they are talking about is me, though."

"...well, you sure have your own share of problems..."

"I'm used to it."

"Don't get used to it, that's just sad!"

"So, Aomine-kun, what are you really doing in your class play?"

-

"So, Momoi is in the Photography Team, and Akashi is in the Organising Committee," Aisaka repeats the information like it's a foreign language, "so neither of you are involved in whatever Class Five is doing?"

"I'll be manning the service counter at the gates and the discipline patrol during the whole of those two days," Akashi says in his ever-so-serious tone, "I won't have time to do much for my class."

"I'll be doubling as advertisement!" Momoi beams, "since I'll be walking around anyways. Oh! And we're doing a Haunted Experimental Facility, so I'll be wearing a nurse's outfit!"

"That sounds morbid, I don't wanna be anywhere near there!" Aisaka says, monotonous and bright, "you're always doing the coolest stuff, Akashi. Be sure to catch a break if you need it okay, you can drop by my class and--"

"Yes, mother," Akashi responds.

"Akashi, I thought you were incapable of making jokes."

"Jokes?"

"Ai-kun, your class is doing a vintage cafe, right?" Momoi asks, swirling attention back on her, "I heard Midorin's playing the piano and you're playing the guitar! Is that true? I didn't know you could play the guitar! Is that why you have a guitar pick hidden in the second compartment of your wallet?"

Aisaka flushes, "why on earth do you know I have a hidden-"

"A vintage cafe is quite a strange choice for a cultural festival," Akashi says, unexpectedly participating in the conversation, "I suppose it will be a nice place to relax, in the midst of the chaotic festival. It is a choice very like Midorima."

"Midorima's lucky item today is a vintage charm bracelet," Aisaka says, "so he just... went with the first thing our class rep could come up with in relation to that."

"Are you sure it wasn't because they wanted to put a non-alcohol bar, a piano, and jazz music together and the boys wanted the girls to wear cute waitress outfits and the girls didn't want something too hard to make and--"

-

The Cultural Festival doesn't stop Kuroko from his nighttime training. Although half the gym is booked and will soon be filled with chairs for the music clubs to perform, Kuroko takes all the time he can to practice, and Aomine joins him.

Aisaka rarely joins them. Apparently, he's busy with preparations for his class, since he's also a member of the costume team.

Kuroko hasn't played basketball with Aisaka in quite a while.

(When was the last time Aisaka touched a basketball?)

When Kuroko asks Aomine about it, he avoids the question. Why was basketball a touchy subject to Aisaka? That couldn't be.

Surely, it's just his imagination. Everyone's a mess, since it's the festival and all.

Kuroko hurls the ball in the direction of the net-- and it goes straight in, not even bouncing off the rim or the backboard.

Aomine cheers and yells out a happy score, but Kuroko feels his stomach sink.

It's not a good omen.

-

"I won't always be here for you, Shougo."

"Shut up, stop living up to your nickname, Basketball Club's Mama!"

Aisaka dodges the basketball that comes flying his way, catching it with his left hand before transferring it into a spin on his finger.

He breathes out a sigh.

"Look at you. You're full of scratches all over and for once, I don't have anyone to get the first aid kit over for me," he says, and there's a suffering edge to his tone, "I don't suppose you want to talk about it."

With a disdainful scoff, Haizaki turns away.

He's seated on the grounds, and a part of his white blazer is torn and muddy. There's no blood, but it's certainly not a sign of his good condition.

Aisaka crouches down beside him, and Haizaki shuffles away from the gaze.

"I don't think we're up for some basketball today," Aisaka says, discarding the basketball as he stands up and offers a hand, "so let's go to the arcade!"

Haizaki looks at the hand skeptically, dumbstruck.

Aisaka pulls him forward by the elbow and off they went, out of the school in broad daylight, leaving all Cultural Festival preparations behind them and throwing school hours out the window.

They bark their heads off at the fighting machines (Aisaka won every round) and stomped the dance machine to oblivion (Haizaki won all of those) then went to the shooting galleries, basketball simulators, yada yada.

It doesn't take long for Haizaki to lose himself in the atmosphere, but it's all according to plan. There's only a few plasters over the larger of his scratches, but he enjoys himself all the same.

They lose all their money at the crane game, then Haizaki punches the machine and a very fluffy gray persian cat toy drops down. Aisaka happily keeps it and names it Hai-chan, which Haizaki is both horrified and embarrassed by.

By the time night rolls around and their phones have rung to death, Aomine and Nijimura march up to them absolutely murderous about their truancy, (and corrupting Aisaka, Aomine adds,) so they're punished with a long cheek pinch before getting sent off to their homes.

(Aisaka distantly wonders who the real mother is, because Nijimura is starting to fit the bill pretty well.)

"You all cheered up now?" Aisaka asks. The cat toy is held carelessly in his gloved right hand while his left scoops up to brush his bangs out of his face. They didn't play basketball, but they're sweaty either way.

Haizaki watches him, and there's a feeling that washes over him-- it's not hate, it's not irritation, and it's nothing as noble as respect or admiration.

It's simply a confused, maybe platonic sort of love.

He doesn't pay it any mind. 

"Yeah," he says, and his eyes don't leave the other's, "thanks, Hiroto. See ya tomorrow."

(Nobody else treated Haizaki like this. Not even his own mother.)

When they split ways towards their own homes, Haizaki looks back. He's not sure why, but a part of him calls out--

Stop him, it says. Don't let him go.

He doesn't know what it means-- so like a fool, he watches him go.