GOM + Kagami: Seeing their s/o playing their sports for the first time
Summary: Our favourite chaotic dumbasses but this time with class, suit and tie, as well as a stunning accompaniment for the evening. Super cute, fluff and funny <3 Enjoy
Authors Note: Y/n = your name // GIFS are not mine // Female reader implied // Not really proof read, sorry.
Characters: GOM + Kagami x gn! reader
Aomine Daiki - Watch me, when I hit bullseye.
Daiki wasn't a morning person. It had never been like that before. Sleep was the best thing ever. Especially when there was nothing else exciting going on that would make it worth staying awake for.
Which was ironic, considering he was currently half-awake behind the wheel, one hand on the steering wheel, the other rubbing sleep from his eyes while his significant other frantically apologized from the passenger seat,"I'm so sorry."
"You've said that like... twenty times," Daiki said in his deep, morning voice
"I overslept," you replied, sounding guilty.
"You stayed up until two watching horror movies with me," he teased, eyes focused on the road when his free hand reached over to you. Caressing your hand. You gave him that look,"...that doesn't make me feel better, Daiki."
"It should though," he replied softly. You groaned into your hands as another glance at your phone made your expression fall, "I'm going to be sooo late."
Aomine clicked his tongue, "You won't."
"I do," he pressed the accelerator just enough to make the city blur a little faster outside.
"You live fifteen minutes away," you whined,"Practice starts in ten."
"...exactly," he said confidently. You blinked,"Wait...Are you speeding Daiki??." His love of adrenaline and challenges was something that had always worried you. That’s why you didn’t like it when he drove on his own. You looked over at him. He had noticed you looking at him, "I'm efficiently driving."
"You are absolutely speeding," you stated.
"I'm a basketball player. Fast reflexes."
He smirked. Today he would find out. Truthfully...He knew you played sports. Of course he did. he was your boyfriend after all. Also, sometimes you'd disappear after school saying you had practice. Sometimes he'd catch bruises on your forearms or shoulders. Other times times he'd find athletic tape in your bag. You'd never really explained what you did. Because you hadn’t mentioned it, he’d assumed you’d do it when you were ready. There must be a reason for it, he figured.
The building wasn't a gym. And not a track either. Nor was it a swimming complex. Instead..the place was strangely quiet. Long lanes stretched forward beneath high ceilings. Targets lined the opposite wall. A highly traditional building with rich colours. At first glance, many people are dressed in traditional white clothing.
Were you part of a cult?? Was that why you never spoke to him about it? Daiki’s thoughts ran wild. At second glance, Daiki noticed people dressed in crisp white uniforms stood calmly with bows in hand.
Aomine frowned,"...Archery?"
You froze halfway out of the car,"...Oh...right. You've never actually seen me practice."
He leaned back against the driver's door, "Nope."
There it was: that ever-present, utter disinterest for which Daiki was known. Apart from basketball, there was nothing else in this man’s life. He could just about muster some enthusiasm for football and athletics when Ryouta invited him round for a film night. But archery? He could only find that boring. That was exactly why you hadn’t told him about it. You looked at him, "You don't have to stay."
"I already drove here," his car keys were shoved into his short pockets.
"I'll just pick you up later."
He snorted, "I'll survive."
Five minutes later...Aomine realized he had made a severe miscalculation. Because this archery thing wasn't what he'd expected. It came not even close. He knew nothing much about archery. He’d watched his grandad do it now and then in the past. It had been boring. No action and not much movement.
What he got instead, made his brain completely short-circuit. You walked onto the shooting line, shoulders settled. Your breathing slowed down, everything about you changed. The sleepy person from the car disappeared and your expression became calm, hyper-focused. It felt like you were dangerously focused.
Then the coach called,"Ready."
Your fingers hooked the string. Your sleek black bow lifted in one fluid motion: Draw. Anchor. Release. Thwip. Dead center.
Before Aomine had even fully processed the first shot, another arrow was already nocked. The again, draw, release, thwip. Another golden shot. Then another. And another. There was no hesitation or wasted movement. Each motion flowed into the next. It was like watching water flow. You were so efficient. Precisely controlled and so fucking beautiful. The arrows landed with terrifying consistency. Gold after gold.
Aomine blinked,"...No way."
Someone beside him laughed, "First time watching them?"
"...Yeah," he turned around to a man his age. He had blonde hair and some great physique. Why on earth were there blokes running about here who looked like that?? This was archery, there was no place for model-type blokes like that here.
"They always get that reaction," the blonde said.
"They're scary," Daiki’s mouth answered before he’d had a chance to think. He was still trying to work out how he felt about you spending time with this bloke twice a week. His eyes fell on you. Scary? That wasn't the word. You looked...powerful. The bow bent under the force of your draw. Your back muscles shifted beneath your practice shirt. Shoulders stayed perfectly steady. The release was clean. Every movement screamed years of repetition.
You weren't forcing the bow. You were commanding it. Aomine suddenly remembered every myth he'd ever heard about ancient warriors: Amazons. Female hunters. Heroes with bow and arrows. You looked like you'd stepped out of one. Like, if someone handed you a cloak and told you to hunt monsters in a forest...
Practice became faster. Much faster. It was rapid-fire drills: Shoot. Step. Draw. Within seconds. Arrow after arrow. You barely seemed to think anymore. Everythingseemd like it was purely instinct. Muscle memory. The sound of arrows hitting, became rhythmic.
Thwip. Thwip. Thwip. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Gold. Gold. Gold.
Aomine had seen impossible athletes before. He played with one. He himself was one. But this...well, this was different. Basketball exploded with movement. Archery looked still...until someone incredible did it. With you, it became hypnotic. He just couldn't look away: You looked even taller, more confident and even more ravishing. He was so stunned. The tight ponytail and angry eyebrows gave a scary, yet sexy vibe.
Practice finally ended. You jogged over while wiping sweat from your forehead,"So?"
You laughed nervously. Hopefully he hadn’t bored himself to death. You’d glanced over at him now and then and seen that he’d been chatting to Akiro. Hopefully Akiro hadn’t said anything strange. He had a habit of singing your praises and those of his girlfriend Lee-Ann to the skies, especially since you’d made it to the nationals as a duo.
"What did you think?," you asked your boyfriend. Aomine stared. Nothing came out of his mouth.
"...Daiki?," you said confused,"...say something."
He finally spoke,"...You're ridiculously hot Y/n."
You blinked, cheeks heating upfast,"...What?"
"I knew you played sports," he said, but more to himself, "I didn't know you looked like some legendary warrior."
Your face was bright red,"W-What?!"
"You looked like you'd shoot a dragon," Daiki stated.
"I was just practicing!," you got more and more shy. Daikis compliments were usually more of a rare occasion.
"You looked terrifying," his signature smile appearing.
"I wasn't—," you couldnt even end your sentence.
"And every arrow kept landing in the middle."
You buried your face in your hands.
He folded his arms,"You are."
That night, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
You drawing the bow. Releasing it, your muscles streching. Your gracious posture. The confidence you displayed. The absolute focus in your eyes. Yeah. He was absolutely doomed.
After that, showing up became a habit. If basketball practice ended early....He was there. If you had a weekend tournament...He was sitting in the stands. Regional competition? He came. Invitational? Already there. National qualifiers? Front row.
At first you protested,"You don't have to keep coming."
He shrugged,"I like watching."
"You sit through six-hour tournaments."
"...You don't even complain."
"You hate sitting still."
He looked at you like the answer was obvious,"I get to watch you."
Your ears immediately turned pink,"...That's cheesy Daiki."
Eventually everyone at your club recognized him, du to him showing up so much,"There they are." Someone said,"Oy, Y/n your biggest fan's here." Another time you got,"Lane 13, basketball boyfriend showed up again."
One of your teammates grinned,"He watches every single match." Another laughed, "I've never seen someone look so impressed watching archery."
Aomine didn't deny it. Why would he? Every tournament was another reminder: the person everyone, him included, thought was gentle...was indeed secretly an absolute monster with a bow. Every perfect shot made his heart race. Every confident smile after a difficult end made him grin. Every medal of yours, every personal best and every victory...Daiki celebrated like he'd won himself. Because watching the person he loved become unstoppable....
Yeah, that would never get old.
Midorima Shintarou - Muscle mommy??
Shintarou had always known you practiced combat sports. It was one of those random facts he'd filed away alongside your favorite tea, your shoe size, and the fact that you unconsciously hummed whenever you concentrated. He liked knowing these things about you. Knowing that the ‘Berry Haze’ lipstick suited you very well, but that you thought it was too dark for your skin tone.
So combat sports it was. That was all he had ever gotten from you. And he had never pressed. If you wanted to tell him more, you would. If not, that was your choice. He respected that.
His afternoon was perfectly planned. As always. School first. Dedust his lucky item collection. Then heading to practice. Afterwards homework and a lot of studying. But then his phone buzzed.
Y/n: Shin! Emergency!
I forgot my sports bag at my apartment.
Could you please bring it to Kiyose Boxing Gym? I'll owe you one! <3
He adjusted his glasses,"...Careless." A pause,"...But if they don't have their equipment..."
He sighed,"...I suppose it cannot be helped."
Twenty-five minutes later. Midorima stepped inside the old boxing gym. Immediately loud noises and screams. The smell of sweat and leather. Also some Disinfectant? This place is absolutely filthy, Midorima thought. In the background the loud tapping of people jumping rope. Heavy bags swinging. Coaches yelling.
It was noisy, smelled odd, had probably never been thoroughly cleaned, and there was testosterone in every corner. A trainer noticed him,"You looking for someone young man?"
"I'm here for Y/N," he simply replied.
"Oh! They're sparring," the older man smiled.
The trainer simply pointed toward the ring, "There."
Midorima looked and his brain stopped working: That...was you?
The sweet person who held his hand while walking home, the one who reminded him to drink enough water. Who packed him his lucky item, when he forgot. The one who smiled whenever he bought ridiculously lucky items. The one who kissed his cheek just because.
That person, that sweet, genuine person...currently wore dark green boxing gloves. Stance was low, but relaxed. Highly confident. You bounced lightly on your bare feet. Your sparring partner threw a jab. You slipped outside: Counter. Left hook. Right cross. Body shot. Pivot. Everything flowed together. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement. Your expression, confensly grinning. Alive, like a hunter was alive to hunt his pray.
Midorima, he stood there and swallowed. Surely, this was another person. That tall figure, in short shorts and a crop top, with a toned physique… Midorima thought the light only served to highlight your best features even more. He’d never realised just how muscular you actually were. It was incredible.
This person...It had to be you. Your coach shouted,"Again!"
Your opponent rushed in aggressively. Instead of backing away, you stepped forward. Inside their reach. Uppercut. Hook. Another hook. Slip, then cross. The other boxer stumbled backwards. The entire gym whistled,"Nice!" Then,"Beautiful combination Y/n!"
Midorima's glasses slowly slid down his nose. His heart was beating much faster than usual. You were incredible. No. "Incredible" wasn't enough. Every movement had purpose. Even the way you breathed. You weren't simply fighting. You were dancing. A violent but elegant dance. He found himself unconsciously analyzing every punch. Excellent shoulder rotation, ver proper hip engagement. A remarkably efficient style. His rational mind admired your technique.
The rest of him....was in serious trouble. Youre... His ears warmed...rather attractive.
No. That wasn't correct. Very attractive. No, actually...Extremely attractive.
You ducked beneath a hook. Your gloves snapped upward. Clean hit.
The coach laughed,"There we go!"
You laughed too. Actually laughed. In the middle of sparring. Like this was the most fun you'd had all week. Midorima swallowed. You're smiling...While punching someone?? Thats was scary... But somehow... that made you even more beautiful.
"Time!," the bell rang. You pulled off your mouthguard. Then spotted him,"Oh, Shin!" Your face immediately softened into the familiar smile he adored,"There you are!"
You hopped out of the ring and hurried over, "I am so sorry." You rubbed the back of your neck,"I totally forgot my bag."
He silently handed it over,"...Here."
"You're a lifesaver," you kissed his cheek. You beamed,"Thank you."
No reply. Being a little confused, you asked,"You watched?"
"...Briefly," Midorima said. These short answers normally only came front, when he was upset. was he upset? You looked at him,"Oh?"
But then it hit you. Your grin grew,"What did you think?"
Midorima looked away immediately,"...It was adequate."
"Adequate?," you laughed. Him looking at you seriously,"Your footwork was acceptable." "Acceptable?," that hurt you a little, laughing even more.
"You still leave small openings after combinations."
You blinked,"...You noticed that?"
"...Naturally," Midorima prided himself. Your coach wandered over,"Y/n!"
"Oh, Coach," you smiled. The older man looked Midorima over,"So this your boyfriend?"
"...Yes," you admitted shyly. Coach chuckled,"You've got yourself a monster young man." Midorima frowned,"...Monster?" Coach nodded toward you,"They've been boxing for years. One of the strongest fighters in the gym. Wins most local tournaments. Scares the newcomers, you know? I've literally seen grown adults refuse to spar them."
You immediately protested,"They don't refuse!"
"They absolutely do," coach laughed. Midorima slowly turned toward you,"Y/n, you never mentioned..."
You scratched your cheek,"I didn't think it mattered. Also it isn't exactly a topic for a dinner conversation."
"...I suppose," Midorima admitted you were kind of right. Coach laughed, "They're being modest. They're terrifying."
"I'm not terrifying!," you tried to defend yourself. You didnt want your coach to paint this aggressive picture of you. But before you knew, coach hit another one out of the park saying,"You knocked out my assistant last month."
"He asked me to go all out!," you said almost inaudibly.
"He regretted that decision," coach laughed.
Midorima stared at you. Standing there sheepishly. Embarrassed. The same person who, five minutes ago, had looked ready to conquer the world.His heart...did something unpleasantly dramatic.
Later, you both walked home together. The metallic sports bag over your shoulder. A soft evening breeze swaying through the night. Comfortable silence. Midorimas voice spoke,"So?"
You looked at him,"What did you really think? You've been weirdly quiet."
"I am not," he said. You looked at him,"You are."
He then got shy,"...I was surprised."
"Because I box?," you asked. He looked away,"No." He adjusted his glasses, "Because you become..." He searched for an appropriate word,"...different." You watched him as he spoke,"Different?"
"You display remarkable confidence," his voice soft yet strong,"You smile, you are...assertive."
You laughed,"I hope that's not a bad thing Mido." You took his chin, to turn his face, so he would look at you. His eyes were sparkeling,"...No."
He looked away again,"It is..." His voice became quieter,"...rather admirable."
You smiled softly,"Only admirable?"
His ears were glowing red now,"...Very admirable."
You leaned closer,"...Shin."
"What," now you were awfully close to him. His tsundere side showed also in his voice.
"Were you impressed?," you teased him.
"You've been staring at me since we left," you teased him, smiling. Him being offended by this statement,"I have not."
The bickering went along for at least another five minutes. You giggled,"You thought I looked cool."
"I did not say that," Midorima was fed up with you by now. But you never thought about stopping. You knew you were right,"You thought I was hot."
His entire body froze. Your grin widened,"...Shin?" His face had become completely red,"I refuse to answer." You laughed so hard you nearly doubled over,"That's a yes!"
"It is merely...,"he pushed his glasses up once more,"...objectively true that your athletic ability is...appealing."
"I did not say attractive."
"I simply acknowledged..." he looked at his shoes,"...certain visual merits."
You snorted,"Certain visual merits? Oh come on Mido!"
You couldn't resist anymore. You grabbed the front of his uniform and kissed him. Right there on the sidewalk. When you pulled away, his face looked ready to explode, "I see."
He cleared his throat,"...That was unnecessary. We are in a public space Y/n."
"Really? There is no one out here, so it isnt really public to me,"you counter his rebuke. A tiny smile escaped him before he could stop it.
"So...,"you bumped his shoulder,"Will you come watch my matches sometime?"
Him being himself, replying,"...If my schedule permits."
"Translation?," you giggled. He sighed in surrender,"...I would like to."
You intertwined your fingers with his,"I'd like that too."
He squeezed your hand ever so slightly. Then, after a long silence,"...Y/n."
You smiled warmly,"I always fight harder when I know you're watching."
His heartbeat nearly stopped. Without another word, Midorima turned his face away to hide the impossible blush spreading across his cheeks.
He had always admired your kindness, your unlimited patience and your always gentle heart. Now he had discovered another side of you: A fearless young woman, knowing how powerful she is. Radiant under the harsh lights of a boxing ring. He would never admit it aloud. Not in a million years, but every time he thought of you slipping punches with that confident grin before firing back with effortless precision...
...his heart skipped embarrassingly hard. And from then on, no matter how much he insisted he was "simply observing your technique," Midorima never missed another one of your boxing matches. He always sat quietly in the back, expression unreadable.
Only Takao, who occasionally tagged along, ever noticed the truth. Because every single time you stepped into the ring, Midorima's gaze never left you for even a second.
Taiga Kagami - A taiga, who cant handle the heat
Because of the exams, you’d decided to study together and that you’d stay at his place over the weekend. It was just quieter at his place. You’d just left Taiga’s flat. Dance practice you said.
Kagami had never really questioned it. He knew you danced. But that was about the extent of his knowledge. Whenever practice schedules clashed, you'd disappear into some studio across town with your dance bag slung over one shoulder, only returning hours later pleasantly exhausted and happy. He had asked once what kind of dance you did.
You had simply smiled,"It's more fun if you see it one day." After that, he stopped asking. Partly because he trusted you, partly because he figured dance was dance. Ballet, maybe. Contemporary. Something graceful. It wasn't really his world.
Then, one Tuesday evening, his phone buzzed just as basketball practice ended.
Y/n: Taiga, can you pick me up? My instructor will keep us longer than expected and I'm going to be dead after.
He answered immediately, already grabbing his backpack.
The studio wasn't far from the gym. Since traffic was unusually light, he arrived nearly twenty minutes early. He figured he'd wait outside.
Instead, curiosity got the better of him. A glass wall overlooked one of the larger practice rooms. Music pulsed softly through the building, muffled by the doors, and Kagami wandered closer without really thinking. Then he looked inside.
His feet stopped moving, is brain followed shortly after. There you were: Not in loose sweatpants or sneakers like he'd imagined. You stood confidently in black heels that somehow made your legs look impossibly long. Fitted practice clothes emphasized every movement instead of hiding them, and your hair, usually tied back without much thought, had been styled just enough to keep it from falling into your face.
The instructor counted and the music began again. Suddenly you moved, very very smoothly and confident. Every shift of your weight looked effortless despite the heels. Your hips rolled naturally with the rhythm, shoulders relaxed while your posture remained elegant. Each turn flowed seamlessly into the next until the choreography looked less rehearsed and more instinctive.
Kagami forgot everything. He had watched athletes all his life. Basketball players exploding into dunks. Gymnasts twisting through impossible routines. Martial artists striking with precision.
This was different. There was strength hidden beneath every movement, but it wasn't loud. It didn't announce itself. It invited attention.
Your footwork remained impossibly clean despite balancing on heels. Your expressions changed with the music, confident one second, playful the next. Every sway of your hips matched the beat perfectly, every glance toward the mirror carrying an ease that completely contrasted your everyday self.
At home, you usually wore oversized hoodies. You laughed loudly. You challenged him to eating contests. And you punched his shoulder whenever he teased you. You were...well...Cute. This person dancing before him, was devastating. Heat climbed straight into his face and ears burned. His heart suddenly seemed determined to break several speed records.
How...How could you move like that?
He couldn't look away. Nor could he understand why his heartbeat kept getting faster. When the routine ended, you let out a satisfied breath, grabbed your water bottle, and casually glanced toward the lobby.
Your eyes immediately met his. There was a pause. Then your lips curled into the smallest, most dangerous smile. A smile he knew all too well. You had seen him. More importantly....You had seen his face.
Your instructor dismissed everyone, and within minutes you stepped outside carrying your bag. Kagami stood frozen beside the entrance, trying very hard to look like he hadn't just witnessed something life-changing.
It failed spectacularly. His face was still bright red. You stopped in front of him, looking pleasantly innocent.
One slow glance traveled from his shoes to his eyes. Then you tilted your head. So...he came early. Interesting. Your grin widened. He suddenly felt like prey.
The walk toward his apartment was unusually quiet. Normally the two of you filled every silence effortlessly.
Tonight, Kagami couldn't seem to remember how conversations worked.
Every time he accidentally looked at you, another image from the studio replayed itself. The confident posture. The graceful turns.Those impossible hip movements. He nearly walked into a street sign.
You noticed. Of course you noticed. The corner of your mouth twitched. Throughout the entire walk, you remained suspiciously cheerful.
You walked just a little closer than usual. Whenever your hands brushed, Kagami practically jumped. When you thanked him for picking you up, you leaned in ever so slightly.
His face somehow became even redder.
By the time you reached his apartment building, you were barely containing your laughter. The poor basketball star looked completely defeated. He could handle impossible opponents. He could stare down towering centers without hesitation. Apparently, however, watching his partner dance in heels had reduced him to a blushing disaster. A man had become a boy within seconds.
You reached up and casually straightened the collar of his hoodie. His entire body stiffened. Another point for you.
Over the following weeks, the teasing only escalated. Whenever he picked you up after practice, you'd still be wearing your dance clothes. Whenever music came on while cooking dinner, you'd absentmindedly sway your hips to the rhythm.
Sometimes you'd practice turns in the living room while waiting for food to finish. None of it was particularly provocative. It was simply...you.Completely unaware—or perhaps perfectly aware—of the effect it had on him. Kagami never quite recovered.
Every graceful movement pulled his attention away from whatever he was doing. If you stretched before changing clothes after practice, he'd suddenly become fascinated by the ceiling. If you practiced footwork in the kitchen while making coffee, he'd mysteriously find reasons to leave the room before his face gave him away.
You noticed every single time.
Eventually, you couldn't resist one final experiment. During one of your dance breaks at home, you slipped on your practice heels before putting on some music. Nothing elaborate. Just enough to warm up. Within seconds, Kagami wandered into the room carrying two glasses of water.
He froze. The glasses nearly slipped from his hands. You caught his expression immediately. Without interrupting your routine, you looked directly at him and offered the same mischievous smile from that first day at the studio. His ears turned scarlet.
He silently placed the glasses on the table before making a hasty retreat toward the kitchen, pretending he urgently needed...something.
Anything. From behind him came unmistakable laughter.
Warm, but victorious. The kind only someone completely aware of your weakness could manage. From that day onward, you never let him forget that the strongest player on the basketball court could be completely undone by a pair of heels and a dance routine. And despite all his embarrassed grumbling, the truth remained painfully obvious. Whenever you asked if he wanted to pick you up after dance practice... He never once said no.
Tetsuya Kuroko - Lucky snow bunny
The annual Teikō winter trip was supposed to be relaxing. Was suppost to. At least, that was what everyone had been told. Instead, the ski lodge had become complete chaos.
"Aomine! Stop throwing snowballs at Murasakibara!," Momoi was screaming.
"You absolutely did," Momoi sighed.
Kise had already fallen over three times trying to look cool on beginner skis, while Midorima insisted that today's lucky item—a cactus-shaped earmuff—would improve his balance. Meanwhile, Tetsuya Kuroko quietly slipped away from the noise.
He wasn't the strongest skier. He preferred taking his time, enjoying the peaceful mountain air. Although he’d often gone skiing with his parents, it had been almost three years since the last time.
As he reached one of the viewing areas overlooking the larger slopes, he noticed someone fastening their ski boots.
"...Y/n?," his eyes widened, "I didn't know you skied."
You looked up with a smile,"Oh. Hi Tetsu, yeah I forgot to mention it, huh?."
"You forgot?," he asked amused. You smiled as well,"I've been skiing since I was little."
Kuroko blinked,"...Really?"
"Mhm," your hands switched to the left ski boot. Then you adjusted your helmet before pushing your goggles down, "See you at the bottom."
And with that, you pushed off. Kuroko expected a cautious descent.
Instead, his breath caught. You exploded into beautiful motion. Your bright orange skis carved smooth arcs into the untouched snow, each turn perfectly timed. Powder sprayed elegantly behind you as you shifted your weight with effortless precision. Left. Right. A sharp carve. Another. You leaned into every corner with complete confidence, body perfectly balanced as gravity carried you down the mountain.
It almost looked like you were dancing with the snow. Clean, controlled speed. Kuroko couldn't look away. You flew over a small ridge, landed smoothly, immediately transitioned into another series of turns, and continued downward as if the mountain itself was guiding you.
The sunlight reflected off the snow, making everything shimmer around you. For a brief moment...You looked unreal.
"...Amazing," he whispered to himslef. His heart beat a little faster. Actually, much faster. A loud screetch followed by a lot of snow, someone stopped beside him. "Oh,"Momoi followed his gaze, "So that's where Y/n disappeared to."
Kuroko nodded without taking his eyes off you,"I didn't know they were this good."
Momoi laughed knowingly,"They've entered competitions before."
"...Competitions?," this fact peaked Tetsus intrest.
His surprise only grew. He had known you for months. You spent lunches at uni together. Walked home together sometimes. Talked almost every day. Yet somehow, you had never mentioned this.
Momoi smiled,"I think someone's got hearts in his eyes."
Kuroko immediately looked away,"I don't know what you mean."
His cheeks felt strangely warm despite the cold.
The rest of the day passed differently. Whenever he wasn't skiing himself...He found himself watching you. Sometimes you raced down black runs.Sometimes you patiently helped beginners.
Once, he even saw you ski backward for several meters just to tease Aomine before effortlessly spinning back around.
Every movement was just so graceful. Kuroko couldn't stop smiling. He had always admired your kindness, calm personality and fantastic sense of humor. And now he had another reason to add to the list.
The next morning, he found you sitting alone outside the lodge, looking at the fresh snowfall.
"Good morning,"You looked over.
"Oh,"You smiled,"Morning, Tetsuya."
He hesitated,"...Would you ski with me today?"
Your expression softened,"I'd love to."
You adjusted your pace without him even asking. Instead of speeding away, you stayed beside him. "You don't have to slow down for me," Kuroko said.
"I know,"You smiled, "But I want to."
His heart skipped. The two of you glided quietly through the forest trail.Snowflakes drifted lazily between the trees. Everything felt peaceful. As usual, conversation wasn't necessary. The silence between you never felt awkward.
Eventually you reached an overlook halfway down the mountain. The valley stretched endlessly beneath you. Everything was white, still and beautiful.
You leaned against your poles,"So..." You smiled,"You've been staring since yesterday."
Kuroko froze,"...Was I that obvious?"
"A little," you giggled, looking at him. He looked a you shyly,"...I apologize."
You laughed softly, "It's okay." Then,"...Was my skiing really that surprising?"
He nodded,"I've never seen anything so graceful."
You scratched your cheek, suddenly embarrassed,"Now you're exaggerating Tetsu."
His voice remained calm, completely sincere,"I couldn't stop watching."
Your face warmed,"...Thanks."
Silence settled again. The snowfall became slightly heavier. Kuroko stared out across the mountains. His heart was beating far louder than it should. He had planned to wait. Maybe until spring. People confess all the time in spring...
But...standing here beside you...it suddenly felt wrong to hide it. He gripped his ski poles a little tighter,"...Y/n."
"I think..." He took a small breath,"...I like winter now."
You tilted your head,"I thought you already liked winter."
"...But I think..,"He turned toward you,"...I like it because I got to see you."
Your eyes widened,"Well Tetsu, I have to admit something....I've liked you for a long time."
The words came quietly, "You being kind. You smiling. You being ther efor everyone"
He smiled gently, cheeks blushed, "I've seen something else that makes me admire you. But I always did, if you get what i was trying to say..."
Your cheeks turned bright red.
"You make skiing look beautiful,"His blue eyes met yours,"I love watching you."
"And..,"He lowered his gaze for a second before looking back up,"I think...I've fallen in love with you."
For several seconds... Only the wind answered. Then you laughed softly. Not because it was funny. Because you were overwhelmed.
"You picked the middle of a ski slope to confess?"
You smiled so brightly it almost outshone the snow.
Murasakibara Atsushi - The dark side of a sweet treat
Atsushi was in your life for a whole half-year. A giant of a man, with silky purple hair and a monster appetite for anything that was high in calories. And you loved everything about this man. Even if it did get on your nerves sometimes when he was going through one of his really demotivated phases again. It was an absolute phenomenon; at the start of the dating phase, you’d hated it and had been on the verge of calling it off several times. But then you’d seen him play. He was in his element. He’d never admit it, but basketball was his passion. He could be a wild beast with no limits… it was precisely this contrast that fascinated you so much: Your gentle, wild giant in all shades of purple.
Unfortunately, Atsushi lived about forty minutes away from you, and because you were both so busy, you had to plan your meetings in advance. That’s why you didn’t always know exactly what the other person was up to during the week. For example, Atsushi didn’t know exactly which sport you practised. He wasn’t a bad friend – he knew it had something to do with dancing… but he just didn’t know exactly which style of dance.
He stood near the entrance of the theater, towering over the crowd with a paper bag of snacks dangling from one hand. His lavender hair caught the warm glow of the chandeliers while people shuffled around him, murmuring excitedly about tonight's performance. "...Where're they...?" he mumbled around a potato chip.
You had invited him weeks ago: "Come watch me perform."
When he'd asked what exactly you were performing, you'd only smiled,"You'll see, Atsushi." Atsushi hadn't thought much of it. He knew you exercised. Sometimes you'd disappear for hours carrying a sports bag. Other times he'd catch you stretching in impossible positions while humming happily in your living room.
He assumed it was... something with dance?? Maybe Yoga Or maybe something like Gymnastics? Maybe figure skating. You were so tiny that honestly anything athletic looked like it belonged to another universe. To him, you were warm sweaters, sugary pastries shared in bed, sleepy smiles against his shoulder, and hands that always reached for his whenever you walked together. The sweetest person he'd ever met.
Sweeter than strawberry Pocky. Definitely sweeter than vanilla milkshakes. Sweeter than every candy he'd ever liked.
The lights dimmed. He found his seat.
As soon as his large frame sat down, an orchestra began.
"...Whoa,"He'd never been to a ballet before. The whole atmosphere was astonishing. Even the room was a beautiful as the dancers on the stage. Long, heavy velvet curtains, together with elegant chandeliers that looked as though they might have come from an old European castle. The movements were beautiful, though he didn't understand the story very well. Everyone looked so... effortless. Floating instead of walking. While trying to understand what was happening on stage, he wondered which dancer was you.
The stage darkened. A hush swept through the audience. A lone figure stepped into a shaft of fake "moonlight". Atsushi blinked, his brain stopped.
You. It was unmistakably you. Only... You weren't smiling. You weren't bouncing with your usual sunshine energy, radiating love and positivity wherever you went. Your posture was regal, almost predatory. Your chin lifted with quiet arrogance. Every step carried impossible control. Your costume was black from shoulders to toe, feathers catching the light like polished obsidian. The fitted bodice and layered tutu were elegant and dramatic, emphasizing every precise movement without looking out of place on the stage.
Your expression—When had you ever looked at anyone like that?
Eyes were sharp, with a certain coldness to it. Atushi found it looked dangerous, yet very beautiful.
The orchestra swelled and you spun. Faster and faster, it looked like you would get dizzy, yet your balance never faltered.
The audience collectively inhaled. Atsushi forgot to chew. His chips remained halfway to his mouth,"...No way..."
He knew you were flexible. He had seen you stretch multiple times. But he didn't know you could do that. You balanced impossibly high on the tips of your shoes, seeming to hover above the stage. Then you leaped. For one impossible second, you looked like you'd escaped gravity entirely.
His eyes followed you everywhere. You moved with absolute confidence, every gesture carrying meaning. A glance over your shoulder felt like a challenge. The elegant sweep of your arms became wings. Even standing still somehow held the audience captive.
He had never seen you serious before. Not like this. Not without the bright smile that usually greeted him every morning. It should have felt strange.
Instead, his chest squeezed,"They're amazing..."
The realization settled over him slowly. You hadn't just picked up a hobby. You were an artist. Movement looked practiced thousands of times. Turns demanded strength he couldn't even imagine. Your legs trembled ever so slightly after a difficult sequence before steadying again. You kept going. Perfectly. Atsushi felt something warm bloom in his chest...Pride. Immense, overwhelming pride,"...That's my partner..." He whispered it so quietly no one else could hear.
For the rest of the performance, he couldn't look away. Whenever another dancer took center stage, he found himself waiting impatiently for you to return.
When you finally appeared again during the climax, transformed fully into the Black Swan, the entire theater seemed to hold its breath. Your movements became sharper. More commanding. Every turn sliced through the music, every glance told a story he didn't have words for.
You looked untouchable. Like moonlight reflected on dark water. Beautiful, but distant. He almost laughed to himself,"That's definitely not how they look at me."
At home, you smiled until your cheeks hurt. You giggled whenever he rested his chin on your head. You pouted dramatically whenever he stole the last bite of dessert.
The person onstage...Felt like someone only the audience was allowed to meet. And somehow that made him treasure it even more. When the curtain finally fell, the theater erupted into applause. People stood, so Atsushi stood too. Without thinking, he clapped until his palms stung.
His eyes never left the stage while you bowed alongside the rest of the cast. There it was: for the briefest moment, your familiar smile appeared. His shoulders relaxed,"There you are."
Backstage was chaos. The dancers ran about like headless chickens, costumes were taken off, make-up was removed, and everywhere there were people congratulating them on their successful performance.
A sea of flowers, congratulations and dancers hugging one another. Atsushi almost looked out of place among them, his height making him impossible to miss, so you spotted him instantly.
Your exhausted face lit up immediatly,"There you are!"
You hurried over, still in black costume. He stared, not a word comming out. You looked at him with a cute smile,"...Atsushi?"
Still nothing, he looked you up and down. Taking in the view. You on the other hand werent quiet sure what you should make out of your boyfriend being this quiet, "...Was it bad?"
"...Huh?," he seemd to snap back into the reality. You giggled,"You've been staring for, like... thirty seconds."
"I...",He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again,"...You're..." Another pause,"...Really cool."
You blinked,"...That's it?"
"I dunno how to explain it," a tiny hint of blush tinted his sharp features.He rubbed the back of his neck,"I thought you just... stretched a lot."
You laughed,"I do stretch a lot."
"...No,"He shook his head,"That wasn't just stretching." You smiled sheepishly,"I've been dancing since I was little."
He stared again,"So that's why you disappear all the time..."
"And your feet always hurt," he figured, which made you laugh. It was so very him,"...Yeah."
"And why you keep sewing ribbons onto those shoes."
"...You noticed?," you were supprised he noticed you doing so.
"I notice everything about you."The words came so naturally that neither of you realized how intimate they sounded until silence settled between you. Your cheeks warmed. His ears turned faintly pink,"...Oh."
You reached for his hand. His enormous fingers immediately curled around yours.
"So..."You rocked slightly on your feet,"What did you think?" He looked at you. The dramatic makeup, with the black feathers. The tired smile replacing the dangerous expression from before. Then he remembered the way you'd commanded an entire theater without saying a single word,"...I think..." He spoke slowly, searching for words that didn't quite exist, "...I didn't know someone so cute could look that... powerful."
Your eyes widened,"And..."
He smiled—small, genuine,"...I couldn't stop watching you."
Your face flushed,"Atsushi..."
"But..." He squeezed your hand gently. "...Not in a bad way."
You laughed, relieved,"I was supposed to be. I was the black swan."
"...You did it really well."
You leaned against his arm with a sleepy sigh,"I'm glad." After a moment, you peeked up at him,"So..."
"Wanna come again next season?"
He didn't even hesitate,"...Yeah. But could you give me heads up about the whole story thing??"
A tiny smile spread across your face,"I'll save you the best seat."
"...Good,"He looked down at your intertwined hands,"...Can I ask something?"
"Anything," he had gotten you curious.
"...When we get home..," he started shyly. You tilted your head.
"...Can you smile at me again?"
"'Cause...,"His voice became almost embarrassingly quiet,"...The serious face was really pretty..."
"...But I missed my sunshine."
For a heartbeat, you simply stared at him. Then your familiar grin returned—bright enough to chase away every shadow left from the stage.
His shoulders finally relaxed. There you were. The sweetest person in the world....his sweetest person in the world. His favorite sight, even after witnessing something extraordinary.
Akashi Seijuro - Running straight into my heart
Akashi had always believed that if something was important to someone he loved, then it deserved his attention too. It was something his late mother had always done for him. Which was precisely why he found himself sitting in the Teikō group chat, reading through an argument that had somehow gone from basketball to endurance sports:
Midorima: Running 42.195 kilometers is statistically unreasonable.
Kise: Wait, wait—Y/n runs marathons??
Aomine: You didn't know?
Murasakibara: I thought everyone knew~
Akashi: ...Marathons?
Kuroko: You didn't know either, Akashi-kun?
He frowned slightly,"...No."
He looked up from his phone, your words from months ago replaying in his mind: "I'm heading out for a walk." or "Going for some fresh air." sometimes "I'll be back in a few hours."
He had never questioned it. You returned looking pleasantly tired, cheeks flushed from the cold or summer heat depending on the season. Sometimes you complained that your legs were sore, and he assumed you'd simply wandered farther than usual.
He had been... mistaken. Very mistaken.
The basketball training session – or rather, the friendly get-together – had turned into a barrage of questions during the drinks break. None of the lads could believe that Akashi’s partner ran marathons. They’d all thought it would be a more stylish sport… Pilates, perhaps.
"You've really never seen them run?,"Kise looked genuinely shocked.
Akashi calmly sipped his tea from his bottle, "I've seen them leave the house in athletic clothing."
"I believed they were taking long walks."
Aomine burst into laughter so hard he nearly spilled his drink,"No wonder! That's hilarious!"
"They did say they were going for a walk," Akashi replied evenly.
"'Walk'?," Aomine wheezed, "They've literally posted medals before."
"I assumed they were participation medals from charity events."
Another round of laughter. Midorima adjusted his glasses, "They must train five or six days a week."
"I noticed they were consistent,"Akashi set his cup down, "I simply underestimated the distance involved."
If anyone were to come up with a sensible thought, it would be Tetsuya. Kuroko smiled into his tea,"I think they'll be happy if you come."
Race day arrived cool and clear and Akashi was rarely nervous. He found himself checking the event schedule twice.
The marathon course wound through the city before finishing near a large park. Thousands of runners milled around the starting area, stretching, chatting, adjusting watches.
He spotted you among them. You looked a little different, not because of your running clothes, but because of your expression. Normally, you greeted him with a smile before you even reached him. Today, after waving from across the crowd, you simply jogged over,"You came."
"I said I would," he reassured you.
"I honestly wasn't sure," You smiled briefly before glancing toward the starting line, "I should get into my corral."
Akashi nodded, "I'll be waiting."
Your smile softened,"Thank you, Sei."
Then you were gone. The starting horn echoed through the streets. Thousands of runners surged forward. And just like that...you disappeared into the crowd. Akashi positioned himself around the thirty-kilometer mark. Kise had insisted this was where runners began to struggle.
"They're gonna be hurting around now."
"I don't believe embarrassing them would improve performance."
The streets buzzed with spectators ringing bells and waving signs.
One runner after another passed.
Some smiled. Some grimaced. Some were already walking.
"There,"Kise pointed. Akashi's gaze sharpened instantly. You. Even from a distance he recognized your stride. Compact form, controlled movent, working efficiently with the energy in your body. Your breathing looked measured. Your shoulders remained relaxed despite the distance already behind you. But what caught his attention most...
Was your face: You weren't smiling, weren't distracted by the cheering crowds, eyes stayed fixed ahead, unwavering. Every movement had purpose, not wasting one percent of energy. Every footfall landed with remarkable consistency. You looked completely absorbed.
As though the thousands of people surrounding you had ceased to exist. Akashi watched you approach. Your cadence never faltered. Even when another runner slowed beside you. Even when someone accidentally drifted into your path. You adjusted effortlessly. Never breaking rhythm. Never wasting movement.
He felt something warm settle quietly in his chest,"Beautiful."
Not because running itself was graceful, but because of the discipline it revealed. He had seen countless athletes. Basketball players who relied on instinct. His opponents who relied on talent. Very few relied so completely on quiet consistency.
He suddenly understood why you sometimes came home too tired to cook. Why you soaked your legs after your "walks." Why your shoes wore out so quickly. How had he missed all of this?
As you drew level with him, someone nearby shouted your name. Your eyes flickered toward the crowd. For a fraction of a second, you saw him. Surprise flashed across your face. Then something gentler: Your lips curved into the smallest smile. No wave, you had to keep your routine. Not slowing down.
Just that tiny acknowledgment before your focus returned to the road. And then you were gone again.
Kise blinked,"...That was kinda cool."
Akashi smiled faintly,"...It was."
The wait at the finish line felt longer than expected. He wasn't accustomed to waiting without being able to influence the outcome. There was nothing he could do now. Only trust you.
Eventually...The announcer's voice grew louder as runners crossed the line. One after another.
"There!," Kise screamed. You appeared around the final bend. Your pace had slowed compared to earlier, but your posture remained determined. Your breathing was heavier now, face glistened with sweat. Yet your eyes, were still fixed on the finish. You crossed the line. Only then did your shoulders finally sag.
The stern focus disappeared almost instantly. It turned into relief, signs of exhaustion and satisfaction becoming visisble.
A volunteer placed a medal around your neck. You accepted it with a tired smile. Akashi waited until you had collected water before approaching. You looked up. For a second your exhausted brain seemed unable to process why he was standing there,"...Seijuro?"
He stepped forward,"You did well."
Your laugh came out breathless,"I... probably smell awful."
"I've survived locker rooms after basketball tournaments," he refuted your argument.
"...Fair point," you laughed. You looked down at your medal, "I wasn't as fast as I'd hoped."
"You maintained remarkable discipline."
You blinked,"...You noticed?"
He gently took your hand, "It wasn't merely endurance." You tilted your head.
Your eyes widened slightly.
"You adjusted your stride around other runners without hesitation."
"You remained focused despite the spectators."
His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles,"...You allowed yourself exactly one smile before returning your attention to the race."
Your cheeks warmed,"...You really watched."
"I did." Silence settled comfortably between you. You smiled, "I always thought running would look boring from the outside."
Akashi shook his head,"Not when one understands what they're seeing."
He looked at the medal resting against your chest, "I've watched extraordinary athletes all my life." His crimson eyes met yours, "What impressed me today wasn't your speed."
Your expression softened.
"You ran forty-two kilometers."
His voice remained calm, but unmistakably proud.
"Not because someone told you to."
"Not because you were competing for a championship."
"You chose to challenge yourself, and then possessed the discipline to see it through."
A small, tired laugh escaped you.
"...When you put it like that, it sounds kind of impressive."
There wasn't a trace of exaggeration in his tone.
You looked away, suddenly embarrassed,"...You're making me blush."
"I am merely stating facts."
"You always make facts sound romantic," you said, trying not to turn into a blushing mess. Especially with Kise standing nearby.
You laughed again, the sound lighter this time. Without another word, Akashi removed the scarf from around his own neck and draped it gently over your shoulders,"You'll cool down quickly."
"You once mentioned it after one of your 'walks.'"
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands,"...Please never let me live that down."
His smile became almost teasing,"I wasn't aware a 'walk' involved forty-two kilometers."
"I didn't think you'd be interested."
"I am interested in everything that matters to you."
The words were spoken with the same quiet certainty he used when discussing strategy or making promises. You looked at him for a long moment before stepping closer despite your aching legs.
You reached for his hand, "...Will you be waiting at the finish again?"
Akashi intertwined your fingers effortlessly, "I'll be there before you arrive."
You smiled, exhausted but radiant. For perhaps the first time that day, your focus wasn't on the road ahead. It was entirely on him. And Akashi decided he preferred this expression over even the impressive determination he had witnessed on the course—not because one was better than the other, but because he now understood they were both parts of the person he loved.
Kise Ryouta - Competitive Mermaid
Having Kise as a friend was something in a league of its own. A heartthrob, professional model, top-class sportsman and someone with what seemed to be an ADHD personality and emotions that were far too intense – it was, to put it mildly, a rollercoaster ride. He was the whirlwind in your life, but that’s exactly what made Kise so wonderful. He could get excited about anything; no matter what new interest popped into your head, he was straight on board. Painting pottery, the time you wanted to take up football, and learning to crochet. He always supported you. And you did the same for him.
Accompanying him to photo shoots, going shopping with him, or even spending afternoons at the gym. Whilst Kise worked on his Adonis-like physique, you sat on your camping chair next to him, reading books for uni. Every now and then, you’d chat about what you were reading. It was a perfect symbiosis of your lifestyles.
You left the house early this morning, with that huge swimming bag slung over your shoulder. I suppose it was the children’s swimming lesson again today.
That was what had prompted him to go swimming with the youngsters. Especially since he’d learnt that Taiga wasn’t a very good swimmer… Kuroko had let it slip once.
"If I drown," Kagami declared dramatically, "I'm blaming all of you."
"You won't drown," Aomine sighed. Aomine couldn’t understand why that huge American muscle-bound bloke was making such a fuss. What was so bad about water, anyway??
"I might," Taiga stated seriously.
"You've been standing in the shallow end for ten minutes," Midorima said sarcastically.
Kise snorted,"I can't believe you agreed to this, all of us come all the way here because you can't swim and then you are like this, Kagamicchi."
"I can swim!," Kagami’s defence was gradually becoming ineffective.
"You dog-paddled," Seijuro was so done with the whole situation.
"That's not the same thing!"
The rest of the Generation of Miracles watched the exchange with varying degrees of amusement. Kuroko quietly held a brochure for beginner swimming lessons. Midorima adjusted his glasses. Murasakibara looked more interested in the vending machines than the pool. Akashi simply observed. They had decided that if Kagami wanted to improve, the nearest serious swimming facility was the Tokyo National Aquatic Centre.
Unfortunately...A staff member greeted them with an apologetic smile,"I'm sorry, but the public lanes are closed today."
The staff member continued,"We're hosting a national competition."
Aomine groaned,"Seriously? I sat in the train for thirty minutes for this..."
"Spectators are welcome if you'd like to watch," The employee tried to defuse the slightly tense situation
Kise shrugged,"Well, since we're already here."
The stands overlooked an enormous Olympic-sized pool.
Everything felt quiet, only the sound of the water echoed loudly through the vast hall. Officials walked along the deck with clipboards. Swimmers stretched with practiced routines. The atmosphere buzzed with nervous energy. Kise leaned lazily against the railing. It wasn’t the sort of afternoon he’d imagined… his thoughts turned to what you might be doing right now,"I wonder if Y/n has ever been somewhere like this."
"You mean because they're a summer swimming instructor?" Midorima asked.
"Yeah,"Kise smiled to himself. You had told him countless stories about teaching children. About nervous beginners, then celebrating when a six-year-old finally swam across the pool without floaties. He loved listening to those stories. You looked so happy talking about your students and how cute they were.
Sometimes you'd disappear before sunrise. Other days you'd come home smelling faintly of chlorine. He never questioned it.
Sometimes hed ask "Long day at the pool?" then youd go "Mhm!". The cute little summary you always gave him: "The kids behaved?" "Mostly."
That was enough for him. Until now.
The announcer called the next event,"Mixed 200-meter freestyle."
Swimmers stepped onto the pool deck. Kise scanned them absentmindedly.
"...Huh?," his golden eyes widened,"...No way."
Walking toward lane four... Was you. "...THAT'S Y/n!" Kise nearly shouted. Several nearby spectators glanced his way. He lowered his voice immediately,"...That's... that's really them!"
Aomine stared,"Oh." Midorima blinked once and adjusted his glasses, "I wasn't aware they competed."
"...Neither was I," Akashi admitted. Even Kagami looked surprised torwards Kise,"They're your partner!"
"I KNOW!," Kise looked completely betrayed, "They never told me!"
Kuroko tilted his head,"Perhaps you never asked."
"...That's actually possible."
You looked nothing like you usually did. Gone were the oversized hoodies Kise loved stealing from your closet, even though he was the one with the expensive designer closet.
Gone was your relaxed smile. You stood behind the starting block wearing a sleek light-blue racing swimsuit designed for competition. It fit closely to reduce drag through the water, practical rather than flashy, accentuating the strength built from years of training.
Your shoulders rolled once, expression was completely focused.
Kise had seen athletes before. He was one. But seeing you like this...
He'd always thought of you as warm, gentle person. Patient with children. Someone who laughed until you snorted whenever he made a particularly bad joke.
Now you looked like a amazon, ready for war. Sharp features build for extremes. Like every movement had purpose. He just couldn't stop staring. The starting signal echoed: Take your marks.
A heartbeat of silence. Then, the buzzer sounded. Eight swimmers sliced into the water almost simultaneously. Kise blinked,"...They're fast."
"They're very fast," Midorima corrected. No one spoke after that. The only sounds came from splashing water and the crowd. You moved through the lane with astonishing efficiency. Your strokes were long, powerful and very well executed. Nothing looked rushed. Every turn off the wall launched you forward like an arrow. Kise leaned farther over the railing without realizing it. He'd seen you swim casually before.
Once at the beach on the vacation. Another time during a date at a water park. You had splashed him relentlessly until both of you were laughing too hard to continue.
That...Was not this. This was years of discipline made visible. Your body moved with incredible precision, every muscle working in perfect coordination. He found himself grinning wider with every lap,"...They're amazing."
Nobody disagreed. You finished among the leaders. The crowd applauded. You climbed from the pool, breathing hard. Only then did your serious expression soften.
Kise immediately stood,"I'm going."
"You don't know if competitors are allowed visitors yet," Midorima called.
After the medal ceremony and cooldown period, athletes gradually filtered into the lobby. You appeared with damp hair and a sports bag slung over one shoulder. You froze,"...Ryouta?"
He practically bounced over, "You!"
Your eyebrows rose,"...Me?"
"I didn't realize you were a competitive mermaid!"
You laughed so suddenly you nearly dropped your bag,"...A competitive mermaid?"
"That's what you are!," Kise was ecstatic. He gestured dramatically,"You've been hiding this!"
"I wasn't hiding it Ryo!," you laughed.
"You never asked!," you teased him.
You smiled apologetically, "I thought you knew."
"I thought you only taught swimming lessons!"
"And then you casually compete at national tournaments?," he asked smiling at you. You laugh, "I still enjoy racing."
"'Still enjoy'?" Kise echoed, "You looked like a total professional!"
Your cheeks pinkened, "I've been doing it since I was little."
"That's so cool..,"He looked at you with sparkling eyes,"No wonder you disappear so early in the mornings."
Everything suddenly made sense: The healthy meals, the heavy arm and shoulder training... Kise shook his head dramatically, "I've been dating a secret athlete."
"I wouldn't call it secret."
"You absolutely would if you knew how surprised I am."
You laughed again,"I guess that's fair." His gaze lingered on you for a moment—not with embarrassment or awkwardness, but with open admiration. He'd always thought you were beautiful. Today, he noticed something more. The quiet confidence in the way you carried yourself. The strength earned through countless hours in the pool. The posture of someone who knew exactly what their body was capable of. It wasn't just attractive, he thought it was inspiring,"You know..."
"I've done photoshoots with athletes."
"And today..,"His smile softened into something unexpectedly sincere, "...I think you're the coolest one I've ever seen."
"And when you dove in," He mimed an exaggerated dive that looked nothing like yours, "You looked like you belonged in the water."
You laughed at his imitation, "Please don't dive like that."
"You'd make a huge splash."
"I make huge splashes emotionally."
"...What does that even mean?"
"I have no idea." You laughed so hard you had to grab his arm for balance.
"There you are," Kise said quietly.
"Your competition face was really cool..," He smiled warmly, "...But I missed this laugh."
You looked up at him, your eyes crinkling with the same familiar sunshine he'd fallen in love with,"I can do both."
"I know,"He gently took your hand.
"And now that I know you're secretly a competitive mermaid..."
"I'm never living that nickname down, am I?"
"...I should've seen this coming."
The rest of the Generation of Miracles finally caught up with them. Aomine gave you an approving nod,"Damn. Didn't know you had that in you." Midorima adjusted his glasses, "Your turns were technically impressive." Kagami scratched the back of his neck, "...Can you teach me not to sink?"
You smiled, "I'd be happy to."
Kuroko chuckled softly, "It seems we'll all be seeing more of the pool." Kise slipped an arm around your shoulders, unable to hide his grin, "Works for me."
He looked down at you, still unable to believe he'd stumbled into an entirely new side of the person he loved. You weren't just wonderful with children. You weren't just the kind, patient person he knew at home. You were an athlete. Someone who could command a pool with the same ease you brightened a room. Kise was certain he'd fallen for you all over again.
