Winter was a strange season; for a season that encouraged such activities such as staying indoors wrapped up inside blankets and nursing cups of warm teas and cocoas, it also happened to be the season where people would gather in groups to spend time together. Perhaps it was the Christmas spirit coming across in that, perhaps it was the chance for friends to come together and reflect over how the whole of the year was whilst watching the snow fall from frosted windows, regardless it was a season that Kuroko loved just as much as the others. Aside from it being the season that Winter Cup was held, the boy genuinely enjoyed the snow, enjoyed the way that his grandmother would begin searching around the house for that old pair of knitting needles to begin weaving impressive lengths of winter wear, enjoyed the way his father would talk about taking out the kotatsu before doing so with gusto with some help from his mother. Even if she would put in some feigned complaints, every year the blanket for the heated table would get washed and thrown into the dryer without fail.
Nigou let out a short bark to break Kuroko out from his thoughts, the boy having stopped to gaze out his window to just quietly observe the falling snow before thinking so deeply about previously mentioned subjects. Winter was never a wholly indoor season for Kuroko though, to go along with his previous thoughts as the phantom sixth man went to change into some clothes more acceptable for a guest coming over, the glistening snow outside remained too strong of a pulling force for outside fun.
Snowball fights always spontaneously took place during primary school, a little less so in middle school, and even less in high school- but still the same good fun regardless of the transitioning ages with only an added appreciation for how quiet the world could become with the crystallized blanket covering everything. Last winter could’ve been the peak of his appreciation for the silence, between the actual matches of Winter Cup and the stress of the qualifiers and the return of a friend he’d yearned for the company of- sometimes the quiet could’ve been more soothing than expected.
Of course the season changed for him this year though, Kuroko having just finished slipping on a semi-thick sweater and some pants to at least look presentable before the doorbell rang, Nigou nipping at his heels whilst the boy went to welcome in that friend, faint smile tugging over his lips with that protest coming through loud and clear.
❝I didn’t take that long to answer, Aomine-kun. Hasn’t Momoi-san said that you’re always warm regardless?❞ With Nigou barking in what Kuroko would’ve liked to interpret as agreement, it still would’ve been a little cold to leave the other boy out in the cold for a moment longer, especially not when the wind seemed to be enough to send a chill through even the thick material of his sweater.
❝Come in, let me get you some slippers. Um, would you like some cocoa or tea? And close the door behind you please.❞
“I know you didn’t, but that doesn’t change how cold it is,” Daiki tries to argue, watching the heat of his trembling voice disappear into a light burst of icy wind. The air scratches his cheeks, and reddens them, his nose becoming runny. He sniffles. “Besides, Satsuki-chan only says that because I don’t bury myself in hundreds of layers like her. A shirt, sweater, and jacket are enough to keep me alive during the winter.”
The image of Satsuki’s round face covered in her thick scarf as she waddles awkwardly, like an easily excitable penguin, in four layers of sweaters and long sleeves beneath her chunky winter jacket crosses his mind briefly. During their last encounter, two Sundays ago, where she interrupted his marathon of Final Fantasy X and the occasional game of League Of Legends when he became to frustrated with Tidus carrying in fights and the rest of his team subsequently dying (clearly, he’d spent too much time leveling him up) to drag his lazy butt to the mall for one reason or another. She had worn such an unnecessary quantity of clothes under her coat, Daiki swore he had seen Satsuki struggling to bend her elbows to reach into her purse for her wallet when they stopped for burgers on the way there.
In the corner of his eye, Nigou, as usual, is in a good mood and not too far from his owner. Unlike Taiga, Daiki is more or less indifferent to Nigou, neither particularly fond nor hostile, though, certainly, not fearful. There is an insignificant voice within Daiki that embarrassingly admits to liking Nigou more than he lets on, but he attributes that to how much he looks like his owner.
Daiki steps in immediately. He shuts the door behind him and begins to under his jacket as he stomps his shoes, kicking off extra snow. When he steps up into the living room, he catches a patch of loose snow on the heel of his left foot. Wet socks. Great. “Uh, I’ll have hot chocolate. Thanks, Tetsu.”
Tetsuya gives him a pair of slippers. Daiki (barely) slips them on his feet as he hangs his jacket in the closet by the front door. He stretches out every pair of slippers Tetsuya gives him when he comes over. It’s not Daiki’s fault he’s a head taller than almost everyone he knows, and, as a result, has large feet. Then again, you know what they say. People with big feet… have a hard time finding their size in Japan.
“So,” Daiki stares into the living room. “Where’s the kotatsu? You always bring it out. Is it in your room?”
