A.N. This idea wouldn't get out of my head.

Her Game

I am Kuroko Tetsuya, first year male student at Seirin High School. Before this year, I've been home-schooled all my life, which is why I don't have a school record.

Seirin made me sit an exam during the holidays to check I had the required level to enroll. It wasn't very hard – I passed. The school uniform had arrived this morning to my mailbox.

I am Kuroko Tetsuya, first year male student at Seirin High School.

Now to assess whether I looked the part. My eyes roved over the mirror one more time.

I'd had short hair since middle school – it helped with misdirection, and it didn't get in your eyes or stick to your face when you sweated. All it had needed was a spikier, more dramatic trim. As for my features, males with delicate noses weren't unheard of; getting a tan over the holidays helped de-feminize me to some extent. My voice I would have to consciously lower. Though, again, guys with higher-pitched voices did exist, and at the tender age of fifteen I had the claim to late puberty.

Moving on: the black school uniform covered my body in its entirety below the neck. I had small breasts, easily flattened with a tight sports bra; it wouldn't be evident from my figure that I was female, not when I wore this.

The basketball kit would be another matter entirely. In general, kits were baggy enough and I was thin and flat enough that I wasn't worried about any forms showing; but there was the issue of the massive armpit hole, through which anyone would be able to observe the presence of bra as soon as I lifted my arms. Since such a movement was inevitable in basketball, I resolved to wear a white undershirt under the kit. Not many players chose to, but it wasn't against the rules.

Tetsuya's unperturbed blue eyes stared back at me from the mirror. The way he appeared now, with the school uniform, he seemed like an ordinary guy. Bland face, all in all unremarkable – even his pale hair wouldn't make him stand out from the crowd. At one meter sixty-eight, he was an average height given his nationality and age; as a basketball player… He was tiny. Not that it mattered, since height had no relevance to my form of play.

Tetsuya slung his bag over his shoulder and stuffed his hands in his pockets before turning away from the mirror.

One day this deception of mine would come to an end. I could only claim late puberty for so long; and I suspected that time would accentuate my curves – my hips would widen, even if my breasts didn't grow any bigger. I had a year left, maybe two at most, before my ability to pass unnoticed would no longer be enough to hide my maturing anatomy.

I had a time limit.

Like I needed another problem piled up on the mountain of inconveniences that already hindered this enterprise.

On the flipside, I would no longer need to shave my legs before a game. Ah, the privileges of the male gender.

It was quite simple, really: middle school basketball allowed mixed gender teams, but the genders were separated in high school. Hence I'd had to enroll in high school as a boy – to continue playing in the same league as the Miracles.

The idea hadn't been mine. It belonged to one Momoi Satsuki, who was also instrumental in its execution.

Bubbly, beautiful and intelligent, she'd been the most popular girl in our old school by far. Boys flocked to her like moths to a flame or flies to the cotton-candy sugary pink of her hair. She and I were the only two girls in the Generation of Miracles – yes, Momoi might not have been a player, but she was as much a part of the team as the rest of us.

She was a bit childish but charming, had top grades, and was friends with everyone. In a way, she shone as brightly as Aomine, which was probably why we were so compatible.

She was the only one who understood why I left, the only one who saw the ugliness and darkness of what we had become and swore she'd help me fight it. And when I asked how, I'll be in the female league in high school, she was thoughtful for a long while before smiling foxily. "I have an idea."

She used her research and her connections to create me an imaginary twin and enroll him in Seirin. She even took me to get my hair cut and shop for new clothes and helped me practice how to talk, move and act like a boy over the holidays. She'd gifted me a mobile phone for my last birthday, to "make sure I didn't mess it up". It started vibrating in my pocket just as I left my apartment.

"Tetsu-chan!" her voice greeted happily. "How are you feeling? Nervous about your first day?"

"A little bit," I admitted.

"Don't be. You're so unremarkable I doubt anyone will notice you." At my silence, she giggled. "Aw, you know I meant it as a compliment."

I could feel the corners of my lips twitching up. "Thank you, Momoi-chan."

"As long as you act like we practiced you'll be fine," she reassured. "Just remember – be careful around Aida Riko. She's perceptive. Wear the white undershirt."

"I am."

"Good." There was a familiar voice in the background – a timbre I hadn't heard in months, and the rise and fall of it, the arrogant drawling tone, made my heart squeeze in my chest. "Daiki wants something, I have to go," Momoi said, "but I know you can do it! Have faith in yourself. I'll call you later so you can tell me how it went."

"Okay."

"Bye! And good luck!"

Momoi was right. My first day as a Kuroko Tetsuya was unremarkable. I coasted through school like I usually did, by being invisible. Nothing at the welcome fair was interesting enough to hold my attention, so I found the stall of the basketball club, filled in a form and left to look for a quiet place to finish my book. Throughout the morning no one questioned my masculinity or indeed questioned me at all.

Classes started that afternoon. Experience had taught me that I would be ignored during lessons even if I sat in the front row, so I chose a desk at the back, a vantage point sheltered from the noise from which I could observe the rest of my classmates.

They were quite normal, my classmates. Not very different from the last year of middle school. Perhaps the girls wore more make up. People mingled awkwardly, as was bound to happen in a group of teenagers that didn't know each other, forced together through inevitable circumstance.

I watched the greetings and the introductions. The delicate start of conversations, the tentative beginning of friendships that I would never be a part of. There was a time when the loneliness used to be a terrible thing, a black beast with claws in the back of my neck. Now I almost welcomed it. I'd probably never form bonds with my classmates, but if no one noticed me, then no one would notice my gender.

The only place I'd ever belonged in – Teiko – had crumbled under my feet like a sand castle. The only people who respected me had turned into monsters and I'd watched it happen before my eyes without being able to stop it. The aftertaste of betrayal and disappointment still clung to my tongue. Was all this effort really to try bringing them back, or was it revenge I was after? It was hard to tell, sometimes.

Conversations trailed off as people turned to stare at me. Not me, the door behind me. A new person had entered the room.

"There's no way that guy's our age."

"He seems scary."

"Look at his hair."

"I think he's kind of cool."

The boy in question plopped down on the seat next to mine, stretching out his legs under the desk and leaning his chair back, making himself comfortable. I didn't disguise my curious gaze, secure in the certainty of my invisibility.

He was huge. Possibly taller sitting down than I standing up. His hair was a dark red, but the tips were black, and I wondered which of the two colors was dyed. He had rough features set in a permanent frown. The eyes were the most striking: narrow, with a deep and intense red pigmentation in the iris, a gaze that radiated so much intent I could feel the pressure like a physical thing. His black gakuran dangled open, showing the shirt underneath and the necklace hanging from his neck - clearly he either didn't know or didn't care about uniform regulations. His body language was at ease, but he had a pressure about him, something coiled and ready to leap at the slightest provocation. I was surprised he didn't sport any facial tattoos or piercings to finish the look.

"Hey," he barked to the guy sitting in front of him, who startled and turned reluctantly. "When is class supposed to start?"

Reluctant gulped. "Five minutes, I think." He turned around quickly, eager to get back to the cute, petite girl he'd been chatting with.

Tall and Intense grumbled under his breath, his frown deepening. He reached into his bag to retrieve a basketball, which he started spinning on his index finger to pass the time, and my interest multiplied ten-fold. He switched it from his index finger to his middle and back with a bored expression.

"Do you play?"

He jumped, his knees knocking against the bottom of his desk. The ball went flying and hit Reluctant on the head. "Ow!" the boy complained, but Tall and Intense ignored him, turning towards me instead.

"Who're you? And how long have you been sitting there?"

"My name's Kuroko Tetsuya, and I've been here since before you came," I replied without missing a beat, having expected the question. I reached down to pick up the ball, which had bounced back towards my desk. I couldn't help noticing how much bigger it looked in my hands than when he'd been holding it. "It's polite to introduce yourself when someone gives you their name," I prompted as I handed the ball back.

He eyed me suspiciously. "Kagami Taiga."

"Nice to meet you, Kagami-kun." I waited, but he simply stared back, so I repeated my question. "Do you play basketball?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Me too."

He frowned. "Players are short in Japan."

"No, that's just me."

He made a non-committal grunt and went back to spinning the ball at the tip of his finger.

I wasn't quite willing to let the topic die just yet – this was the longest conversation I'd had all day, and besides, if he was going to be one of my teammates, I might as well get to know him a bit. "What position do you play? Center?"

"Power forward."

I nodded. Like Aomine.

I tried not to get my hopes up.

I hadn't gotten to play basketball much over the holidays, as most of my time had been devoted to the planning and creation of my new identity. I dreaded holding a ball again – I feared I would hate it. Even after so long, I hadn't managed to completely excise the negative feelings I'd grown to associate with that orange sphere.

By the time the final bell rang I had mixed feelings about attending the basketball club's practice. I thought I'd been ready, but my throat was dry and my fingers trembled when I put my hand on the door of the gym.

Don't be ridiculous, Tetsuya. What was the point of this whole thing if you're not going to play? You can't chicken out now. Steeling myself, I pushed the door open. I regretted my choice almost immediately afterwards, when the Coach spoke her first words.

"Take off your shirts."

I blinked.

While the rest of the team went slack-jawed and started shouting in outrage, I considered my options. No one was aware of my presence yet, so I had some time.

I was wearing the white undershirt, but I had a feeling she would order to take that off, too, if what they were saying was true – she could gauge players' physical abilities just by looking at their muscles? How interesting. It would be a great advantage for the team – focus, Tetsuya, this is a huge problem.

Momoi had resorted to her slightly less legal skillset to acquire Aida Riko's records and files, with little to show for it. We hadn't for one second imagined that Riko would hold this kind of talent. If I'd known, I would have chosen a different school.

Someone who was so good at assessing bodies wouldn't need to see me shirtless to guess I was a girl.

I could walk straight out of the gym. While it would keep the secret of my gender safe for now, Riko would realize it the next time she saw me, and since she was the coach I couldn't avoid her forever.

But if I stayed, I would be discovered. Would she understand? Could I get her on my side? Either way, the sooner the better, I decided. If it went badly, I'd have more time to transfer to a different school.

Riko looked down at the sign-up sheets she'd brought from the welcome fair. "Wait a second, where's Kuroko? How come he didn't show up?" She looked around, her eyes sliding over me. "Well, I guess he's taking the day off. Let's start-"

Sighing again, I went to stand in front of her, raising a hand. "Errr, excuse me… I am Kuroko."

Cue the "Since when were you here?" "Since the beginning," routine. The number of times I'd gone through this in my life was well into the triple digits.

Now that I'd made my presence known, I could feel their assessing gazes on me and their immediate dismissal. Weak. I observed with particular interest the exchange of glances between the coach and the captain. He looks like a beginner. What do we do with this guy? Riko seemed to ask. The captain, a fairly tall guy with glasses, thoughtfully slid his eyes to the water bottles piled up near the bench.

"So, you're the guy who was home schooled? This must be your fist time playing basketball, right?" Riko asked, smiling.

"Actually, I have played in school matches for several years."

She seemed surprised by this. "Really? Which school did you play with?"

"Teiko."

The shock was universal. Someone at the back whispered, "But he looks so weak." Since the silence in the gym was almost complete, everyone heard it, and the culprit gulped and ducked behind the guy who stood next to him, a familiar giant with red hair. Said giant was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

Riko put her hands on her hips. "Well, take off your shirt."

"I'd rather not."

"What do you mean you'd…" She didn't finish the sentence, her brown eyes widening as she looked at my chest, at my arms, at my hips. Her eyes snapped to my face.

I waited. There wasn't much else I could do.

"You do realize this is a boy's basketball club, right?"

"Yes."

She took two decisive steps towards me and grabbed my arm. "You're coming with me. Hyuga," she said to the captain, "run some drills."

She dragged me into the girls' changing room and forced me to sit down on the bench while behind us, the sounds of training started.

"You're a girl. I can tell, so don't try to deny it. Explain."

Riko wasn't a stunning beauty. She had brown hair that she wore short and brown eyes. She didn't use any make-up, had an average build, and, overall, looked quite plain and normal. But there was a confidence to her, the feeling that she was used to giving orders – to say it reminded me of Akashi would be a stretch, but there was a natural assertiveness that probably came from bossing around a bunch of boys on a daily basis. There was also a cold and calculating glint in her eye when she looked at me now. I didn't like it.

The truth was, I didn't want to tell her my motives. They were complicated and personal. But I didn't really have a choice.

I was purposefully vague, without letting my expression or tone betray my feelings. Yes, I knew that some schools had women's basketball, but I had to defeat the Miracles and for that I had to be a boy. Why? I'd made a promise.

I watched as she started pacing back and forth in the changing room, her frown deepening. She stopped in front of me. "You really played with Teiko?" I nodded. "But how? If you were home-schooled-" she slapped her forehead with her hand. "Of course. That was a lie. You actually went to Teiko. As a girl. The middle school league is mixed."

"Yes." Sharp.

She gave me a once-over, her eyes going from the top of my head to my toes and back up. I could practically hear the wheels spinning in her mind as she realized just how much effort I'd put into this, and there was judgement there – was she impressed? Did she think I was crazy? Perhaps she wouldn't be wrong. This whole thing was more than slightly insane – a desperate bid because I didn't have anything to lose.

"Stand up and take off your shirt," she ordered. I obeyed, remaining silent as she studied my form, until she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe you. It would already be hard enough for a girl to compete physically against a boy, but your stats are even lower than average. You just don't have the right muscles for a basketball player."

She was right, of course. Even in middle school the guys had been leagues above me physically, a difference that would only increase as they got older. However, my ability didn't rely on physical superiority or conventional skill as much as it didn't rely on height. I was a pure specialist. "Let me play a game and I'll show you," I proposed as I slipped my shirt back on.

She considered for a long while, her eyes snapping back to me every so often. "So let me get this straight. You'll keep pretending to be a boy through classes, until you graduate?"

I shrugged. "For as long as I can."

"All that, just to play against the Miracles – your old teammates from Teiko?"

"To defeat the Miracles."

She chewed on the inside of her mouth thoughtfully. She probably didn't realize it, but she had huge power over me; if she decided to kick me out of the club, I would have to transfer, try again in a different school. If she reported me to the principal, I'd have to claim gender identity crisis or something equally drastic to be allowed to play. She had my life in her hands in that moment.

Finally, a cat-like smile spread on her lips and her eyes became thin, mischievous slits. She nodded. "Alright."

"Alright?"

She nodded again, her smile growing into a grin. "Yes. Anyone who goes through so much trouble for basketball deserves to play. I'll keep your secret."

"Thank you," I replied sincerely. I had half-expected her to rat me out, but it seemed Riko was made of more noble stuff than that. I was quite impressed actually – I'd made the right choice in joining this school. From a purely practical point of view, it was also good to have someone on my side, especially if it was the coach.

"It goes without saying that I won't treat you any differently from the other players. You'll be expected to work just as hard as everyone else."

I nodded. "Of course." I looked at her in the eyes seriously. "I won't let you down, coach."

"No, you won't," she agreed. "Because if you do… I'll make you play naked."

I think she was joking.

Probably.

I called Momoi that afternoon to tell her about it.

"That's great!" she cheered. "I'm happy you found an ally and if it's the coach, then it's even better." After a pause, she added, "So, what do you think about your new team?"

From anyone else that question would have been perfectly innocent. But this was Momoi, an information gathering specialist. Even if she actually wanted me to win, she also respected herself and her duty to her own team. She was probably updating her file on Aida Riko right now with the information I'd already given her.

So I was careful with my answer. "They're alright."

"Tetsukooooo," she whined, "that's vague, even for you. Isn't there an interesting story you can tell me?"

"Momoi," I reprimanded.

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly in her normal voice. "Habit."

"I'm sure you already know almost everything about them anyway," I chuckled, "though there might be a freshman that will surprise you."

"A freshman? Who?"

I smiled to myself; I could feel her curiosity burning even through the phone. "You'll see." I hung up before giving her the chance to insist.

I was referring to Kagami Taiga, of course.

He was… Well, how to describe him?

He was, basically, a mountain of raw talent stuffed into a pair of basketball shoes. An extremely physical, athletic, aggressive player, perfectly at ease with the pressure that came with being a major scorer, thriving in it. Fearless on the court, he played his best when he was challenged. He was an ace, plain and simple, destined to hog the spotlight in any game he participated in.

His talent became obvious in the first mini-game we played. Riko pit the first years against the seniors to get a grasp on our level. Although I knew she'd intended to keep an eye on me, her attention, like everyone else's, was drawn to Kagami as soon as the whistle blew. He dominated the game, quickly pulling our points ahead.

I chose to save my intervention for when our team actually needed it and thus continued to remain unnoticed. Truthfully, I was still reluctant to touch the ball. I told myself it wasn't the same as before, it wouldn't be the same as before, but the sound of shoes squeaking and the ball bouncing were unpleasant and almost made me cringe.

I was also curious about the seniors. According to Momoi, they'd made it to the final league of Interhigh with only six players, and all freshmen; they had to be exceptional. It was why I'd chosen this school in the first place – a young team with dreams and everything to prove – this was the kind of place where I'd be able to find my love of basketball again.

They didn't disappoint. They double-teamed Kagami to take him out of the game, cutting him off from the ball. Those who weren't defending Kagami dealt with the rest of us easily, even though it was four-on-three. Then again, I was one of the four, and I wasn't doing much, so it was more of a three-on-three. I liked their offense as well, a relentless run-and-gun that had us straining to keep up.

They're getting too far ahead. It's time, Tetsuya. Plus, I had something to prove to my coach.

I forced myself to get over my reservations and redirected a pass to a free guy under the basket, who seemed surprised to be suddenly holding the ball, but he scored easily. My next pass, and nearly all of them after that, went to Kagami.

Even though I'd never played with him before, it was like I had known him my whole life. Our timing was near-perfect; I could accurately predict his movements not by watching the twitch of his muscles, but because I could guess what he was thinking; and he never seemed surprised when I knocked the ball his way. In twenty minutes we had the kind of chemistry that teams spent years trying to build. I was pleasantly surprised by his competitive spirit and good sportsmanship – I'd had doubts earlier, when I'd met him in the classroom, but it seemed that despite his appearance, he wasn't a thug. All his intensity was positive and devoted to improving his game.

I felt a sense of nostalgia wash over me. This had been what it was like, with Aomine, in the good years.

But he wasn't Aomine; it showed in the rough, unpolished offense and the raw power of his movements. I recognized in Kagami something I hadn't seen in a long time: pure passion for the game, the relentless desire to play, play, play. Whether we were winning or losing, Kagami loved basketball and had a hell of a fun time. Suddenly, I found it easier to push all the memories of Teiko to a dark corner of my mind and lock it, because the past was in the past and had nothing to do with him at all.

I missed the last lay-up; but I already knew that he would be right behind me, taking the rebound and slamming it back. I could picture the exact expression on his face when he said, hanging from the hoop and looking down at me, "That's why weak guys piss me off. Score properly, idiot!"

I couldn't help the small smile that shaped my lips.

The Maji Bruger Conversations, part one

That evening, at the fast food joint, he sat at my table. I amused myself counting the seconds, minutes actually, that he took to realize he wasn't alone. When he finally noticed we jumped into the "Since when were you here?" routine (I decided to reset the counter at number one hundred and one). He tossed me a wrapped burger.

I caught it, surprised.

"I think you're weird but… I'll acknowledge you're worth one burger."

I eyed the pile of twenty or so burgers in front of him. "I feel honored."

I could feel Kagami studying me out of the corner of his eye as we ate. Obviously something was on his mind; I remained silent, enjoying my vanilla shake while waiting for him to speak. Ah, vanilla shake: ye complete my life. Maji was the lamest and cheapest fast food chain in existence, but they produced the nectar of the gods.

Kagami didn't speak until we had both finished and were leaving the restaurant. Remarkably, he had taken the same amount of time to eat his twenty burgers than I my one burger and shake.

"How strong are the generation of Miracles? Say, if I were to go against one of them right now, what would happen?"

I truthfully replied, "You would be instantly killed." At this time of night, the neighbourhood was empty, and my words echoed along the road like a death sentence.

It wasn't that Kagami didn't have potential. His potential was stratospheric. The problem was, he wasn't a mature player. Still rough around the edges, still lacking that sharpness that would make him able to compete against guys like Kise or Aomine in a one-on-one situation.

Of course, basketball wasn't a one-on-one game.

He took my certainty as a challenge, as I expected. His expression morphed into a feral grin. "Even better. That's exactly what I'm looking for! I'll prove I can take all these guys down and become number one in Japan."

He looked formidable then, radiating anticipation and confidence, powerful and wild and unstoppable. I had a strange feeling in that moment, looking at him.

What had I been scared of? He was everything I'd hoped for and more.

A.N.2: I know there are some Fem!Kuroko fics lying around, but I don't think a Crossdressing!Fem!Kuroko has been done before. So yeah. In my head this is a full length fic with eventual romance but I don't know if it deserves the time and effort. What do you think?