KnB Exchange

Momoi was lying on her bed, mindlessly reading a sports magazine until her phone rang. It was too early in the morning for Aomine to be calling her. Maybe it was Kise? 

“Hello?” She held her phone in between her head and shoulders.

“Momoi.” To her surprise, it was Midorima. “There is something I would like to talk to you about.”

“Midorin!” Momoi practically sang. She immediately sat up, abandoning the magazine. “You rarely call first! What is it? Oh, let me guess! Do you need a lucky item? Or are you having boy troubles?”

“No, I am not having, as you say, ‘boy troubles.’” There was a pause. Momoi figured it was Midorima pushing his glasses up. “I also have acquired my lucky item for the day. I need your assistance. Could you accompany me on a shopping trip?”

Momoi felt her already wide smile go even wider. “Of course, I’ll go with you!” She loved being invited to things– be it eating lunches at Maji Burger or coordinating streetball lessons for the local kids. Usually, she was the one doing the coordinating– which, for the record, wasn’t something she minded! But it was nice having the invitation go the other way every once in a while. Especially from Midorima! 

People may think he was someone who wanted to be uninvolved, but it was not true! When luck permitted, he always came to different events like the team’s after practice ice cream trips. Sometimes he needed just a bit of nudging, nowadays in the form of Takao, but regardless, he didn’t often initiate events with her. She’d noticed that lucky item shopping is usually his excuse to hang out with others, but he already got his lucky item of the day. 

She wondered if anyone else was coming. Takao or Kise maybe? She couldn’t help but ask. “Are we going with anyone else? Takao-kun? Or Ki-chan?”

“No, it would just be the two of us, if that would be alright with you.” There was a pause. “I understand that it may be… unusual for it to be just us, but you were the friend that I deemed would be able to help me best.”

“Aww Midorin, that’s so sweet of you!” She could imagine him blushing at the compliment. “Send me the details over email, and I’ll be there in an hour!”

Momoi saw Midorima standing on the outside of the clothing store. He wore a simple dark blue t-shirt and beige pants. He tightly held onto a giant penguin plush. When his eyes met with Momoi’s, his grip loosened. 

She ran up to him, stopped right before him, and started bouncing on her feet. “So? What’s the occasion? What are we shopping for?”

“I… would like your help in choosing an outfit.” He turned his head to avoid eye contact. Momoi knew what that meant.

“So you were having boy troubles!” After everything that’s happened in the past few months, it’s been getting easier and easier to read Midorima and this was no exception. She will admit, however, that she hadn’t quite figured out who’d captured Midorima’s affection. Most people would say it was Takao who held the title as “The Boy Midorima Likes,” but Momoi had a theory she had been brewing up. It was still a work in progress, but her “Kagami Taiga: The Boy Who Has Captured Everyone’s Heart” thesis had a lot of evidence. Momoi would simply have to take into account both possibilities today.

“That would… that would imply that I am struggling, which I assure you is not the case,” Midorima’s face flushed and his voice was louder than usual. Momoi couldn’t help but laugh.

“But you’re not denying that this is a boy-related problem!” She winked. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Midorin! I understand completely! Whenever I’m with the person I like, I always want to look my best. I won’t ask who it is, but I’ll give it my all in helping you out!”

“I… appreciate it…” 

“You’ll definitely capture his heart, Midorin!” She began urging him into the clothes store. “Let’s go!”

“I think this outfit will be the one, Midorin!” Momoi held up a green sweater with an argyle pattern. “It’ll go great with your eyes!”

Midorima took the sweater to examine it. 

“Besides the color being the same as my eyes, is there anything else to take note of?”

Momoi giggled. Midorima’s questions reminded her of a time in middle school where Midorima asked about her notes and note taking strategies. He was always serious in his studies, and this was no exception. “You want to pick clothes that fit well and that you’re comfortable wearing! Make sure that colors and patterns don’t clash. Like two very bright colors! It can work, but I’m not too sure if that’s what you want to go with.” 

Throughout her speech, she could see Midorima nodding and paying very close attention to her words. “So for the pants, should I go with one of the darker ones?” 

“Yes! Let me choose…” Momoi looked around, surveying each pair of pants until she found one she thought to be suitable. “I think those black pants should work! Check to see if they fit!”

“Thank you.” He gently placed his giant penguin plush down and grabbed the pair from Momoi. “I truly do appreciate the time you’ve taken out of your day to help me with this.” The tips of his ears were red. She found it quite cute, but chose not to comment.

“Of course, Midorin!” Momoi beamed at him. “I’m honored you asked me to help you out with this! I’ll be cheering you on!”

His blush spread to his face. He managed to mutter a thank you before shuffling off to try on the outfit. She sat down to wait for Midorima. Would this be a one time thing? While it was the first time that it’s been just the two of them, Momoi found that she quite enjoyed the experience. With just the two of them, the energy wasn’t as face paced, which Momoi appreciated. Sometimes, she needed the break from the constant running around of her daily life. And not only that, but Midorima had definitely changed. It was easier to understand him now. 

When Midorima walked out, she saw some people began to sneak glances at her friend. Unfortunately for the interested party, his heart had been taken by someone else. She bounced on over and eye’d her friend at all sorts of angles. Midorima stiffened at the attention, not knowing what to do.

Momoi laughed. “It’s fine Midorin! You look great!” She gave him a thumbs up. 

At that, Midorima sighed, finally letting the tension escape. “That endeavor was just as difficult as I imagined it to be.” He pushed his glasses up. “Thank you Momoi for making this trip much easier. Your knowledge was crucial and your guidance saved me a lot of frustration. Is there any way to repay you?”

Momoi thought about it and couldn’t think of anything she needed at the moment. Just spending time with a friend was already a gift in itself. But she knew that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. She placed a finger on her chin as she thought of her options. 

“I want you to pick an outfit for me!”

“I beg your pardon?” Momoi could see the gears running in Midorima’s head. “Do you not already have suitable clothes?”

“I want to test what you’ve learned! Let’s see if you can make an outfit for me.”

“I’m not sure if–”

“C’mon Midorin! I know you can do it! You’re not one to back away from a challenge are you?” With that, Momoi knew she won. 

“Give me ten minutes.” Midorima rushed towards the center of the score, scanning all around to find an outfit that would look well on her. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that his penguin plush was tucked between Midorima’s arms. 

“A brown plaid skirt, a white blouse without any patterns, and a light brown sweater that clashes with neither of these colors.” Midorima used his penguin to hold onto the clothes, as its flippers served the clothes like how there’s a waiter serving food at a restaurant. “Is this a suitable outfit?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” It was her turn to try on something new. She came out with a little twirl, “Well, Midorin? I have my thoughts, but let’s check your sense of fashion. What do you think?”

Midorima wasted no time. “For the skirt and jacket, I was hesitant at first since you chose a sweater that specifically matched the colors of my eyes, but the neutral colors appear to coordinate well. I also ensured that the blouse had no patterns. I do believe that it fits the criteria.”

She saw a slight hint of a smile. Was he proud? She hoped so, as she truly did love the outfit that Midorima chose. “But do you think I look cute? Do you think I can capture the hearts of anyone I set my eyes on?”

“You… you asked me for my thoughts and I believe I answered appropriately. Was I incorrect in this assessment?”

“I’m just messing with you Midorin!” She saw the hint of exasperation on Midorima’s face and so she finally relented. “It’s such a cute outfit! I’m impressed!”

“Hmph.” He turned away and began walking towards the cash register. “In that case, let’s go.”

Momoi followed along happily.

Outside of the store, Midorima said, “Thank you again. I found myself enjoying our time together.” There was a pause as he ruminated on what to say next. “I hope we can do this again. I’ve been told it would be beneficial to be the one to reach out more, so I will try to do just that.”

Momoi felt a tinge of tears begin to form, but she willed them away. To think only a year ago, she was wishing for a time where everyone could smile together again. So much had changed, and she hoped  that it would continue to do so. 

“And thank you Midorin,” She gave her friend a very wide smile. “Let’s definitely do this again. But before you leave, you definitely have to tell me about who you like! Come on! Tell me! Tell me!”

Midorima’s cheeks reddened as he tried to back away, but he realized fairly quickly that this was a battle he would not win. “Fine. But let’s do it somewhere else.”

“Of course, Midorin,” she said as she walked with her friend towards their next destination.

notes:

i couldn't decide if i wanted to have hints of midotaka or hints of midokaga bc i like both ships a lot! i ended up just keeping it vague on both ends, so YOU, the reader, can decide who The Boy Midorima Likes is :)

outfits are based on some merchandise art and official art! midorima's outfit is this:

momoi's outfit is this:

She could have appreciated if the question had been prefaced with a hello, but with Aomine, the sooner you learnt not to expect too much, the better. And Satsuki had certainly learnt this lesson well. So instead, she was already thinking unhappily about how she had gotten new throw pillows (they were one pink and one orange, and clashed horribly with the couch, but she was very warmed up to the idea of everything in their house being colour-coded to represent each respective roommate) and Aomine was sure to lie all over them and have them smelling like the horrible musky body spray that he always used. This thought had her asking impatiently, “Well, what were you expecting?”

Not that her patience threshold was particularly high to begin with — it didn’t have to be, when she knew Aomine like the back of her hand. He probably needn’t have answered, for her to know, but that didn’t stop Aomine from counting off sullenly anyway as he kicked off his shoes. “Boobier, curvier. Hotter.”  He tore off his jacket and threw it into the couch, before promptly falling on top of it. Sure enough, he got his feet all over the rug and throw pillows. “I was hoping for a Kao-chan with more tits. More ass.”

“You’re so uncouth,” she told him. He could keep hoping.

“Oi, Satsuki, listen,” Aomine had dropped his voice as if they weren’t alone. “I know how men like him think — and if he even thinks of trying anything with you — Hhgh.”

That last bit was because Satsuki had made her way over to him in time to smother his face with a pillow. He was so embarrassing! “You’re one to give a lecture about respecting women,” she said crossly, folding her arms to keep herself from batting at Aomine’s feet till he took them off the coffee table. She knew from experience that he would only have them back up in the next minute. And truthfully, there was nothing much she could do — now that they didn’t live up each others’ asses and she no longer knew where he kept his stash of Horikita Mai magazines, there weren’t many immediate threats to his personal belongings she could make.

As best as he could from under the pillow, Aomine was making indignant protests about looking out for her and being her best friend, which was rich, considering that she’d chosen high schools pretty much with the singular intent of three years of caretaking. “I’ve been friends with Kao-chan since second year of high school, which you should know. I trust him!”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t speak over women!” Satsuki admonished, shoving the pillow all the more crossly into his mouth. “Stupid Dai-chan!” She decided that the pillow had had enough and let it drop into Aomine’s lap before flinging herself into the couch as well, leaving a pointed gap between them. This was why Satsuki never, ever introduced any of her friends to him. She had never agreed with the opinion floating around their friend groups that Kagami and Aomine were anything alike. Kagami was good to the women in his life.

Aomine turned to her grouchily, folding his arms. “Y'wanna at least tell me how this happened?”

It was right at this moment that the click of the passcode being punched into the door let them know that Takao had chosen to return. He had stellar timing — it was one of the things Satsuki loved about her friend. He didn’t look at all surprised to see Aomine in their living room (that was also their kitchen that was also their entryway), which said a lot about Aomine’s reputation for dependence on her for general survival.

“If it isn’t Aho-chan!” Takao said cheerily, in a manner that implied that he had no issue believing that it was Aho-chan. Aomine scowled, which had no effect on Takao, since he’d spent the better part of three years pulling Midorima around in a cart.

“Takao-chan goes to the same university as me,” Satsuki huffed. “Which you might have known if you kept up with the group chat. Or with me.” That last part was not just bluster – it was a point of pride for her that she checked in with all their friends regularly. Even Murasakibara knew to send her updates at least bimonthly – simple texts ranging from, “Sachin, there’s a new mauibo flavour at the mall near your uni.” to “what a drag” accompanied by pictures of whatever he’d been up to in culinary school. Akashi had taken to the initiation of correspondence so well that he had begun to send her weekly newsletters. Pictures of Yukimaru, his plain lunches, and even snaps of himself taken in the lobby of his apartment building – “Satsuki, I must thank you for your recommendation of the dark brown suit for this occasion.” – attached primly to his emails signed Akashi Seijuurou, Akashi Corporation, Kyoto Division.

Of course, Satsuki and Takao had discussed Aomine at length, since they lived together, and Aomine was an undeniable part of Satsuki’s life, in a manner similar to that of a chronic rash. And so Takao was well-aware of the questions that Aomine most likely wanted to ask. “I’m studying medicine as well,” he explained preemptively, as he put his shoes neatly onto their shoe rack, which pleased Satsuki. Another great thing about Takao and his association with the Midorima family premises was that he came pre-drilled in household etiquette. “Just at somewhere less prestigious.”

Aomine groaned in disgust, which was rude, and also predictable. “Gross. So the plan is you and Midorima, small family practice and like, twenty disgusting, colicky kids, huh?”

“Shin-chan will most likely be a surgeon,” Takao corrected. “Also, I’m impressed that you know the word ‘colicky’.”

“Fuck you.”

Takao grinned. “You and me, twenty colicky kids?”

Aomine decided promptly that he didn’t like Takao, and Satsuki took great pleasure in proclaiming that this was not her problem. She was also not above adding on, “And it’s his house! You can’t dislike him in his own house, go outside.”

The great problem with this, it turned out, was that it simply was not in fact true — and Aomine resolved to make the most out of disliking Takao under Takao’s (and Satsuki’s) roof that afternoon, and for many afternoons after.

ii. Midorin & Ki-chan

On occasion, she needed the apartment to herself, and so she’d send them all packing. She and Takao had a system — they rotated through different chores, so it was just as well that it was his turn to go shopping for the week when Midorima and Kise came over.

Sometimes, she gave them instructions for an errand, or two.

“The both of you are hopeless,” Midorima admonished for the fourtieth time that afternoon. Kise and Takao were crouched in front of the little display of lip balms, and they had been there for a significant amount of time. “How can you not tell a gloss from a balm.”

“I just use whatever PR is sent to me!” Kise twinkled.

“Stop twinkling,” Takao said, reaching for a shiny red package closest to his eye-level.

Midorima snapped, “Don’t be a buffoon. Cart out the strawberry-flavoured one or god so help me, Takao. The notion that Momoi would be a cherry girl over a strawberry one is preposterous and ill-informed.”

Since it had been a while since he had been called Takao, and because Shin-chan was beginning to use words like “preposterous”, Takao knew when it was time to shut his mouth. He dutifully picked the strawberry lip balm off its rack. He placed it into the basket, which Midorima diligently held aloft.

It was over this tube of strawberry lip balm that Satsuki later found herself in conversation with Kise, back at the apartment. Midorima had insisted that it was a poor day for Cancers and that he should walk back to his university dorm by foot — an endeavour that would take no less than three hours, two and a half, Satsuki was generous to concede, keeping in mind that Midorin had extremely long legs. Takao, who still checked Oha Asa every morning, knew that Scorpios were in first, and had made the argument that his luck would allow them to scrape by on the train if he accompanied his friend.

“Honestly, if Midorimacchi doesn’t—” Kise cut himself off here, and Satsuki recognised that look in his eyes — Kise was highly facetious, as a rule, but that hard edge in his gaze was very real. “Takaocchi is very fun to be around,” he said instead, mildly.

“What about Kasamatsu-san?” Satsuki asked.

“What about him?” Kise denied bitterly. “This doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

It had everything to do with him, that much Satsuki was sure of. The thing about Kise was that he burned too bright, perpetually and so much that it spilled over — the Miracles all had their strengths but Kise had potential, boundless and protean. Aomine had unleashed him, and when that hadn’t worked out, he’d found Kasamatsu, who could contain him. And now Kasamatsu was busy with life, and Kise felt alone again. Satsuki didn’t know too much about Kaijou’s ex-captain, but she understood that he was the no-nonsense and pragmatic sort, and was likely just caught up in university in a way that was likely to be the norm for a third-year undergraduate.

“Not everything is like high school, Ki-chan,” Satsuki said gently. “The same way that not everything was like middle school — and that turned out to be a great thing. For all of you.”

Kise had to come into his own — and he was, slowly. It helped that he spent a lot of time with Satsuki, Takao, and Midorima, especially now that the latter two weren’t pursuing basketball, at least not at a professional level. It freed Kise from the burden of measuring himself against the Miracles — against Aomine, in a way that ran far deeper than the sport and into his worth. The issue was that Kise didn’t yet know how to see this as a freedom, and Satsuki hoped that the bonds of their friendship, having now transcended the realm of high school clubs and training camps and awkward adolescent aspiration, would give him the push he needed. “Thank you, Momoicchi,” Kise said, with a sigh. “For listening. For always letting me be myself.”

Coming from Kise, who could be anything he wanted to be, that counted for a lot.

If Kise was having trouble adjusting to university, Midorima was the entire opposite — he had taken to the structure and routine of medical school like a fish to water. Through high school, Midorima had grown more slightly more open, a little more accommodating of others, and his neurosis all in all had slackened its hold on him. His central character and convictions remained pretty much unchanged otherwise — he still believed very much in doing everything possible and frequently coupled this with a conscientious eschewing of frivolity.

It was needless to say then, that he was finding their time at the piercing shop a heinous waste of time. “It gets rid of headaches,” Takao offered helpfully.

“That is complete pseudoscience,” Midorima snapped. “Even if true, it would hardly be the most efficient or effective method to deal with—”

“If you don’t let me do it here, Midorin, Kazunari-kun will do it with a needle back at our place,” Satsuki threatened brightly.

“What sort of foolish—”

“With a paperclip,” Takao added, with a smile. Midorima knew him well enough to know it wasn’t his trustworthy one. “Sharpened on sandpaper.”

With a sigh so exaggeratedly aggrieved you could tell that he had been practising it for many years, Midorima allowed himself to be led into the shop. One thing about Takao and Satsuki, they were a terrible, terrible duo. No one had experienced this sooner than Midorima, beginning from when he’d found himself carted to Kuroko’s birthday game in their first year of high school. By the time they’d lied to him that they were going to an oncology conference and taken him to a gay club for his 20th birthday instead, Midorima was so worn down that he hadn’t even attempted to beat up Takao that much when someone had accosted him at the bar and told him he was so into the megane type.

It for reasons along this line that Midorima inevitably found himself in the chair — sat stiff and tense and angry, while Takao stuffed his fist in his mouth and tried not to laugh, and Satsuki admired the little black X sitting in the snug of Midorima’s ear and told the piercer that yes, that position did look good. She herself was sporting a brand-new pink heart, shining where it had just been clipped through her still mildly-stinging flesh.

“Do you like it,” Takao asked smugly, to which he was instructed to shut up, and Satsuki made them both lean in for a picture.

iii. Aomine & Takao

Aomine was looking for Satsuki. He’d forgotten to account for the fact that now that Takao Kazunari was her roommate, he ran the chance of running into him, in addition to the chance that Satsuki might be out. He could text ahead of time, sure — but Aomine did not, as a habit, text ahead of time.

“Look,” Takao said. “Do you remember, in our second year of high school — that charity basketball event we all took part in?”

“Yeah,” Aomine snorted, “As if I could forget.”

“Right,” Takao nodded. “Remember when Akashi asked her to join in?”

“So? He always does that.”

“And when you taught her how to do a layup, did you notice how much she liked that?”

“She wasn’t even good at it,” Aomine frowned.

“That’s not the point,” Takao said patiently. “It wasn’t about the layup.”

Aomine didn’t exactly have the widest range of expressions, so his frown deepened even further. “But that’s what I was s’posed to be teaching her,” he said, and then it was like everything hit at once. “Oh.”

“Yeahhhhh,” Takao drawled, “Not everything’s about—”

“—basketball.” Aomine finished sheepishly. “Whatever,” he said gruffly, “Thanks. For talking to me even though I was being difficult.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Takao snorted, and closed the door in his face. Aomine couldn’t say that he appreciated being likened to Midorima, but then again Takao adored the guy, so who could say if it was a bad thing or otherwise.

And anyway, Takao’s text read, There aren’t any practices scheduled next Wednesday so the uni gym should be free.

He had probably gotten Aomine’s number from Midorima or from Kise or from Satsuki or from Kuroko, and wasn't that an annoying thought, that all his friends were also Aomine’s.

iv. Tetsu-kun

When Satsuki returned home on a Thursday evening, she saw that Kuroko was at their place. She knew this because she only had so many friends under 170cm, and so there were only a few logical deductions for a pair of basketball shoes in a size 25.

“Momoi-san,” he greeted her when she stepped into the apartment, politely neutral, but she could see that he’d been a little startled. “You’re home early. Kazunari-kun has just headed out for his class.”

There were two cups that had been left abandoned on the table, one orange, and one blue. The blue cup had big print around its body that declared that Kuroko was JAPAN’S SEXIEST TEACHER, a gag gift and his designated mug at the Momoi-Takao household. From the condensation pooled onto the table, Satsuki could tell that he had been here for a while.

Kuroko had never let go of his precise formality, even through the years as old middle school wounds had healed over and they’d found new peace with each other. Their nicknames had always been a way of holding onto closeness even in their worst times, when they weren’t — they had been Tetsu, Midorin, Mukkun, Ki-chan, and Dai-chan to her even when they’d fallen apart and bled into each other all through the end of middle school. For Kuroko, though, she’d always had the inkling that it was the opposite — that it was his way of maintaining distance, even in the closeness, first from people he’d never thought he’d be a part of, and then from people he’d never thought he’d be a part of ever again. She imagined how it must be for him, who had found his light once in Aomine, and that had turned out— well. And once more in Kagami, who, while not Aomine, had still left to America for college.

“We could order in,” she found herself blurting across the room. Kuroko, who looked like he’d been about to rise from his chair, glanced at her, surprised at the abruptness of her speech. “Since we both, you know…” she trailed off. It was well-known that the two of them were the worst cooks their friends knew, sans Riko-chan from Seirin. Even Midorin had learnt to make a serviceable instant curry sometime between the second and fifth times he had given himself food poisoning, which was of course deeply humiliating for someone in medical school.

Her impulsivity proved to be well-worth the reward when Kuroko broke into a small smile — the same one that she’d swooned over many times back when she’d fancied herself in love with him — and said, “I would like that very much, Momoi-san. Thank you.”

She beamed back, smile twice as large and twice as warm. “Of course, Tetsu-kun, you’re welcome anytime.” Satsuki said, and meant it. “I hope you and Takao-kun had fun today.”

Kuroko went very still at this, which was not unusual for him, but all the same, Satsuki waited patiently.

They all shared Kuroko, in that odd way they always had, but it wasn’t quite the same the other way around. It felt unfair somehow that Kuroko would have to share, when his was the sort of person who lent themselves wholly to others. He had lost Aomine to himself, Kagami to dreams that were ever broader and farther across the globe, and Satsuki was aware of the way Kuroko’s expression would draw flat whenever they met up as a group, when it would be obvious that Takao was Kazunari to him and Midorima both. It would have been easier, she thought with a faint pang of longing, if she and Kuroko had just been in love with each other.

Eventually, he answered quietly, “We did, thank you. It’s nice to be around someone who can always see me.” It didn’t sound like he was talking about basketball, so she pulled him into a hug, which he returned.

v. Kazunari & Satsuki

They did Kazu & Satsu Nights on Saturdays, whenever they could. They each had on a face mask of their choice — nourishing honey for Satsuki and blemish control tea tree for Takao — while they were engaged in a bit of an argument that they’d had a few times before already.

“It’s not about if he cares, it’s about if he cares enough,” Takao was shooting back. Satsuki could tell that he had spent a lot of time thinking about this. “He’s in a good place, he’s chasing his dreams, why would he—” His tone was grim and his words bitter. “Shin-chan has never been the type to take unnecessary risks, much less when everything is already going good.”

“And you see yourself as one of those?” Satsuki asked thoughtfully. “An unnecessary risk?”

It was a moot question, because it was hard not to feel like a risk, to people like her friends. She understood what Takao was saying all too well.

“I don’t know how you do it, honestly,” Takao said, and his smile was crooked at its edges when she looked at him, a little bit wry and a little bit resigned. Under the wet face mask, his disparaged expression looked misshapen and silly.

“What,” Satsuki asked, “Put up with them?”

“Love them,” Takao corrected.

She laughed, because she understood the feeling. “I don’t understand how I do it either,” she admitted, thinking a little wistfully of having time to herself if Dai-chan hadn’t been two hands full all through middle and high school. All the cute dates she could have almost definitely gone on if everyone hadn’t known that she was preoccupied at all times with Aomine. She sighed, “It gets easier over time.”

Takao looked at her very carefully, and then said, “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have traded in being Shin-chan’s keeper, either.”

She liked Takao like this, when they were alone — pensive, a little mean. He was thoughtful in a serious way, and she could see why some of their friends liked him when he got like this, away from the usual jocularity that was not quite a facade but certainly a choice made for an audience.

“You could go out with Ki-chan,” Satsuki suggested as smoothly as she could, “I think he tried to ask you out last week. When he offered to go card shopping at Nakano Broadway. Ki-chan doesn’t know anything about cards, he only has older sisters.”

“He’s a stupid idiot,” Takao said.

“And so is Midorin.”

“Fair point,” Takao conceded, sounding a little surprised, “Okay. Maybe I’ll take him up on it.”

“Or Tetsu-kun,” Satsuki added, a little more confidently this time. “He’s usually got time on weekends.”

Takao raised an eyebrow at her — “That’s kind of your thing, no?”

Satsuki hummed, leaning back onto her bed. She enjoyed the feeling of the cool mask for a moment, the way the wind from the fan chilled the essence and seeped into her skin on a summer night. “I don’t think so,” she decided, “At least, it hasn’t been for a while.”

“What changed?”

It was a good question. There was something to be said about Kuroko, the way the other five seemed to coalesce around him — him joining the team had been the beginning of the possibility of friendship between them, where Satsuki thought that, if left alone, they might have been nothing more than colleagues on the court. For someone like her, who loved not just her friends, but loved them together — Kuroko represented that crucial centre of it all, and she loved him for that, even now.

“I don’t think anything changed,” she told Takao. “I just realised some things.”

Takao rolled over to lie on his back, peeling off the mask and balling it up in his fist before he tossing it lazily in the air. She heard the wet smack and then crinkle of it hitting the sides of the trash on its way in. “This does seem to be the time for that,” Takao agreed sympathetically. Then, exhaling harshly, added, “How would they do it without us?”

“I suppose that they’re miracles,” she said, which made Takao laugh.

“You’re a Miracle too, Momo-chan,” he said. “And my favourite one. Don’t forget.”

vi. Dai-chan

She was surprised when Aomine asked her to attend one of his games — she did, usually, but most of the time she did so of her own volition, and she’d have to check for the dates herself. Much of their relationship had occurred along these lines — Satsuki keeping an eye out, keeping track, keeping pace; so her heart exploded in her chest when she realised that she’d been tricked.

“Surprise,” Aomine muttered, gaze flickering towards the ground. He held the cake out to her. “Happy birthday.”

The gym was empty, save for a few stragglers in the far-end, winding down from whatever sport they’d been practicing, and no doubt getting ready to head off for a late dinner at this hour. Satsuki should have questioned the suggestion of a practice game at eight at night, but she had been so thrown off by even being invited on Aomine’s own initiative.

“But— the game?” she stuttered out, not yet having found her words, staring wide-eyed, wondrous, into the flickering hot flames of the candles set atop copious icing.

“There is no game,” Aomine said impatiently, still not quite meeting her eyes. “Don’t be dense, Satsuki.”

“Don’t be a bitch!” she scolded, with no heat in her words. She couldn’t even be bothered to hide the excitement seeping through to her tone. “You did this all for me?”

“You don’t gotta make a big deal outta it,” Aomine muttered. Then, he asked, with hesitance that was out of place in his voice: “Y’like it?”

Through the softly curling vapour from the candles it looked like his eyes were, his whole face was, wavering, and in that moment it felt like she’d been looking at him like this her whole life — cast-warm and through gentle ripples like the top of a lake; cosy like being settled at the hearth, natural, meant to be, familiar, and very real.

“It’s perfect,” she said, smiling into the smoke. “Thank you, Dai-chan.” Mukkun had made the cake and it was exquisite, though he had told Aomine that it wasn’t a big deal, that it would be suuuuch a bother if Satsuki found out he had done it, and it had been strawberry and iced in all her favourite shades of pink and teal; and she loved her friends, and she loved being Momoi Satsuki.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

The requested characters were aomine daiki, momoi satsuki, takao kazunari, and the pairings were momoi & takao, kuroko / takao, kise & takao. I kept everything pretty open-ended here, so you are welcome to read things how you wish. To my giftee, I really hope that this fell within your expectations, I don't really write, so thank you for the chance to work on this lovely prompt.