Daiki sighed, slumping lower in his seat. At the front of the room, the history teacher – or was it literature now? – continued to drone on in time with the buzzing of cicadas filtering through the open window. Dust motes swirled through the air in front of his eyes as sunlight warmed his face; he could feel himself drifting off. He yawned, open-mouthed, but made a valiant attempt at forcing his eyes open.

He sat up straighter, trying to focus on the teacher's words, the writing on the blackboard, the back of the person in front of him. It was no good. He'd already lost the thread of the lecture so notes were beyond him. Needing to look like he was doing something though, he idly began doodling on the corner of the desk.

When the midmorning break came, it found him face down, completely asleep. It was only Kise's persistent poking that nudged him into wakefulness. Rubbing his eyes, he stretched for a few seconds before swatting the boy. "The hell was that for, asshole?"

"Sorry to wake you, sleeping beauty," he said, "But we're switching classrooms next. Also, there's drool." He pointed.

Daiki scrubbed at his chin and grumbled, "Whatever. Why do we have to spend our summer break taking extra lessons anyway?"

"Because if you don't keep your grades up, you won't be able to attend the training camp later, right?" Kise grinned. "Come on now, you don't have Momoi here so you've got to take care of yourself."

Daiki flipped him off and bent to grab his bag. Swiping his notebook off the desk, he stood. "Let's just go to the next classroom already."

As cheerful as ever, Kise made sure to hurry after before he got himself lost.

It wasn't until he nearly dozed off again the next day that he noticed the doodle from before had been erased. He briefly wondered who had done it. Probably whoever had sat at the desk after they'd switched classrooms. Losing interest, he began drawing again.

The next morning, he noticed that the desk was once again clean. Slightly intrigued, he drew another picture, this time a little more elaborate.

"What are you doing?" Kise asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"Just a little something," he muttered, scratching at the faux wood.

"Hey," Kise admonished, "Graffiti is bad, you know?"

"What class uses this room after we switch?" Daiki asked.

"Some other second years. I don't know too well." Catching on, he frowned and asked, "Are you making the one who sits here clean up after you?"

"I'm not making anyone do anything." Daiki grinned. "What kind of guy dutifully cleans up a desk anyway?"

"This is how you get hated by others, you know," Kise warned him.

Daiki ignored him in favor of beginning another doodle, grateful that the bell prevented any further pestering.

The cycle of draw and erase continued for a few more days after that before Daiki arrived one morning to the same picture from the day before. Slightly disappointed at the loss of a pastime and slightly triumphant at the perceived victory, it wasn't until class was nearly over that he noticed there was a small message beneath it.

Please stop drawing on the desk.

He only had time to scrawl one line in response before the bell rang and Kise was dragging him to the next classroom.

Aren't you breaking your own rule with that?

When no answer came the next day, he scoffed. So the other would be silenced just like that, huh? Seemed like a weakling. Probably the serious, honor student type too.

The day after though, he had to laugh.

It's fine since I won't get caught.

Ignoring the teacher's scolding and Kise's curious stare, he etched his reply.

What a stubborn guy.

They became penpals, of sorts.

"How romantic," Kise gushed after hearing about it. "Hey, if it's a girl, don't you think it'd be cool if you ended up going out?"

"Only an idiot like you would fall for a setting like that," Daiki scoffed. "It's not even a girl."

"How do you know?" Kise retorted.

Daiki wasn't quite sure itself. Just, from the tone of their conversations, he couldn't help but feel he was speaking to another guy. As if to prove the point, although whether it was to himself or Kise he didn't know, the next chance he got, he asked the question that'd been weighing on his mind since they'd started speaking.

Do you play basketball?

A little.

Reading those words, Daiki could feel the grin stretching his lips.

Really? Let's play!

I don't think playing with me would be very enjoyable.

Why not? I don't mind whether you're a girl, by the way. Let's have a one-on-one.

I'm not a girl. Did you think I was?

Not me. My friend. If it's not that, what's the problem?

I just don't think you'd have a lot of fun.

We won't know until we do it! Come on, please?

No matter how much he pleaded or challenged though, the answer remained the same. Eventually, the other moved from refusing to avoiding the subject altogether, dodging any further requests. After Satsuki berated him for being insensitive, Daiki gave up and they spoke of other things.

He didn't really mind. Communicating one or two lines at a time, each little thing felt like a discovery, bringing them closer. He almost wished he could've met the guy in person; they rarely agreed on anything but Daiki still felt like they would have gotten along.

Aren't you actually pretty smart?

I do okay.

So why are you taking extra lessons?

I happened to catch a cold around exam week.

Lame.

Class had never seemed longer than after he'd been already written his replies to the previous day's messages but otherwise the days flew by. He'd learned absolutely nothing but almost before he'd noticed, Kise was asking him, "Aren't you glad? Extra lessons end this week and after that you'll be free to play as much basketball as you want. We can even start attending club practice again." He paused, seemingly to take in the look on Daiki's face. "What's wrong with you?"

"We're almost done."

"Yeah?" Following his line of sight, Kise grinned. "Oh, I get it. Yes, with the end of extra lessons comes the end of your little summer romance," he teased.

Before Daiki could snap at him, he darted away, sliding into his own seat as the teacher entered the classroom, calling for silence. Glancing at the message, he noticed that the other had also brought up the imminent separation.

Extra lessons will be over soon, won't they?

He could only give an unethusiastic reply.

Yeah.

We won't be able to talk anymore, will we?

I guess.

Would you like my number?

The words were penciled in lightly and smaller than usual, almost as if they didn't need to be noticed. Daiki stared, brought his face closer and squinted just to be sure. He didn't hesitate, however, on his reply.

Only if you tell me your name too.

The next day, there was a name in the corner of the desk.

Kuroko.

Next to it were seven numbers.

After they started texting each other, the nature of their conversations changed. No longer limited to one exchange a day, their responses got faster, sharper, until they developed a rhythm of their own.

I'm so broke. What should I do?

Have you considered saving your money?

Not when Mai-chan's new photo book is about to come out.

You really do like breasts, don't you?

They're a man's dream!

I beg to differ.

What, are you more of a face guy?

I like gentle people.

Oh. Personality.

Yes, personality.

After seeing that conversation, Satsuki asked, "You know, haven't you two ever thought of meeting? In person, I mean."

"What about this," Daiki asked, waving his phone in the air, "Would make you ask that?"

"Well, I thought you weren't the type to maintain a relationship like this for long but it's already been four months, hasn't it? You're already so close and you go to the same school so why don't you just meet up already?"

Kise had been asking him the same thing lately, ever since he'd found out they were still talking. To be honest, Daiki hadn't known how to answer him – and he didn't know how to answer Satsuki now either.

Scratching his head, he gave a half-hearted shrug and said honestly, "I don't know. It's just never come up between us. I mean, he's never agreed to play basketball with me so I just thought he didn't want to meet in general."

"Idiot." Satsuki flicked his forehead. "Just because he doesn't want you chasing after him for a game doesn't mean he doesn't want to meet period. Who knows? Maybe he's waiting for you to ask him."

Daiki scoffed. "You don't know this guy, Satsuki. If he wanted to do something, I'm pretty sure he'd have brought it up already. He's pretty sure with what he wants."

"If you say so," she said and dropped the subject. "More importantly," she glared, "What's this about buying another photo book?"

God, I'll never understand people in love.

Did something happen?

Not much. Just had to chase off a bunch of guys for Satsuki again.

Please tell her, "It must be hard on you," from me.

Hello? Weren't you listening? I'm the one doing the work here! Say that to me.

Yes, yes. Please continue to work hard.

Bastard.

You seem used to it though.

It's been like this since last year. It's irritating but it can't be helped.

How kind.

Shut up. Well, if you ever need me to chase off anybody irritating for you, just ask!

He didn't think much of his message as he typed it. Nor did he think much of the reply he got back.

You'd be chasing off a lot of people.

Huh? Don't tell me you're popular?

Flipping his phone closed, Daiki reclined on his bed, waiting for the familiar ringtone to sound with Kuroko's response. It wasn't until he opened his eyes the next morning that he realized it had never come.

Kuroko didn't message him that day or the next. Half a week passed without anything. Daiki didn't mind it too much; he didn't see anything wrong with what he'd said so he didn't believe he'd offended the other or anything. He wasn't the type to get worked up over that sort of thing anyway. Nevertheless, he felt himself oddly reluctant to message Kuroko first.

Instead, he waited it out, waited for a message with some brief apology or explanation that never came. Days went by slower without Kuroko to break the monotony with and by the time a week had crawled by, Daiki was nearly ready to throw caution to the wind and text him anyway.

Just when his thumb was starting to linger over the 'draft message' button longer and longer, the message finally came.

It's because I wouldn't want to say yes to anyone but you.

Daiki stared at it, nonplussed. For a moment, he didn't understand what the other meant but then their last conversation rushed to the forefront of his memory. His phone fell soundlessly, bouncing on his mattress a few times.

It lay there, screen still lit up with Kuroko's words before eventually going dark.

For the next week, it was Daiki who wasn't messaging Kuroko. He hadn't told anyone about the message but apparently the lack of phone in hand was noticeable.

"Okay seriously, did something happen?" Kise asked one morning, running up to him in front of the school gates, unaware of the stares his tousled hair and ruddy cheeks attracted.

"What?"

"You haven't been texting for two weeks already. If he hasn't replied by now, I think you need to assume you did something wrong."

"Why am I the one in the wrong?" Daiki demanded.

"Because you usually are. And you wouldn't be looking so anxious if you were the one who didn't want him texting you."

"How the hell am I anxious?" he snapped, nearly jogging up the walkway and leaving Kise behind.

Satsuki was just as unrelenting. "If you've had a fight, you should just suck it up and apologize. Even if you're not the one who did something wrong," she added.

He didn't spare the effort of being grateful she was giving him what he had to admit was the benefit of the doubt and said, "It's not really something we can apologize for."

"Why? What exactly happened?"

"Nothing bad," Daiki said firmly. "Just leave it alone, okay?"

"I can't," Satsuki moaned, "Not when you're going around looking this upset about it. It's almost Christmas, you know? I can't leave you alone when you're looking this sad around Christmas."

Grumbling about her childishness, Daiki quickly turned the conversation into an argument, staving off any further inquiries into this sudden radio silence.

Four days before Christmas, Daiki finally picked up his phone again. The drafted message contained a place and time, as well as the words:

I got you a Christmas present. No complaining. Just come get it.

It took him another day to finally send it but after he'd closed his phone, it was the calmest he had felt in weeks. He'd gone and done it. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

As promised, Christmas Eve found him dutifully sitting on a park bench in front of the station as couples bustled and flirted around him. He'd showed up half an hour early to claim his seat and there he stayed, arms crossed and scarf wrapped tight around his neck, present at his feet.

When someone nearly tripped over the box, he held it securely in his lap instead; as snow started to fall, he hunched over, huddling for warmth; it wasn't until the lights outside the station started to flicker that he acknowledged he'd been stood up. Well, not technically. Kuroko had never replied to confirm meeting but Daiki had assumed. Checking his phone was in vain – no new messages. Before he had a chance to slide it back into his pocket, it lit up briefly. The rush of enthusiasm the text brought was just as brief. It was only Satsuki.

Daiki sighed, shot a quick answer her way and started a new message for Kuroko.

Okay, asshole. Don't come. But seriously, come. I'll leave the present and walk away so make sure you pick it up. Same time, same place tomorrow.

The next day he showed up ten minutes late, hair ruffled by the wind, scarf and cap forgotten at home. His coat was barely buttoned up but the gift was tucked safely under his arm. Locating the same bench from the day before, he was about to set it down when a voice stopped him

"Aomine."

Turning around, Daiki took in the sight of Kuroko. Shorter than him, as he'd assumed, but an otherwise average build; completely unremarkable.

"Is that for me?" he asked and Daiki took the chance to commit his voice to memory too. Soft and polite with an underlying bite that hinted at strong sarcasm.

Grinning, he answered, "And if it is?"

"Then I'd like it now," Kuroko said, tacking on a "please" as a formality.

"Just wait a minute," Daiki said, reaching out to snag the other's wrist. Plopping down on the bench, he reeled him in, coaxing Kuroko into the seat beside him. "You nice enough to come out and save me the trouble of hiding nearby. Let's talk for a bit."

"I don't think we have anything much to talk about though," Kuroko said stiffly.

"That's a lie," Daiki asserted, "And you know it."

"Well then, would you like to talk about it?" he asked.

"I would. I mean, you were the one," he broke off and started again, "Shit. Just— We were friends weren't we?"

"And what are we now?" Kuroko frowned, obviously anticipating what his answer would be.

Daiki didn't make him wait long. He'd spent days avoiding Satsuki while trying to sort out his feelings (truthfully, Satsuki's help would've quickened the process by a substantial amount but it was something he wanted to do on his own) and was sure Kuroko had spent the same time regretting his confession.

"Hey, Kuroko. Go out with me?"

"No."

"What?!"

Daiki was treated to his first glimpse of Kuroko's smile and just that was enough to soften the shock. "You don't even know my first name."

"Well, what is it?" he demanded.

"Tetsuya."

Daiki sounded it out, shaped his lips around the syllables, watched Kuroko watch him do it, straining to hear the sound. He repeated it once and then settled on, "Tetsu."

"Yes?"

"Go out with me?"

He already knew the answer.