title: you can go rest now

summary: Her eyes suddenly feel heavy, like they're supporting an immense, invisible weight, and she falls asleep wondering how those last five words can feel warmer than being under her sheets. [Tetsuya x Riko]

notes: I just can't get over this pairing, okay? This is dedicated to tumblr user, shslsushilover, who is amazing. Check out her blog, friends! Also, can you guys give me some story ideas? You can send it via jonsn0wflakedottumblrdotcom, my tumblr url. Reviews are highly appreciated! Please have your friends read this too, not to promote me, but to promote the pairing. We, the crack shippers, live in a cruel world. Our strength is in our numbers.

disclaimer: I do not own KnB though I wish I did

The cemetery air is hushed, as if everything capable of making noise in the place has been given strict orders not to. Winter is already embracing Japan, and stepping outside your door feels like walking into a refrigerator.

From where she's sitting she has a perfect view of a hundred more tombstones and it strangely reminds her of immaculately white teeth. Trying not to think about the people beneath her is quite impossible in the depressing atmosphere of the place. But it's exactly the distraction she needs.

The indifferent light from the various streetlamps around the graves is quite calming, and it did wonders to her racing thoughts when she got there.

One more week and the Winter Cup will commence. One more week and Seirin will be battling the best teams in Japan. The last week of training and she's completely useless.

She has been nursing a cold since the start of the week, and her father wouldn't let her out of her room. Her dad took over the training enthusiastically, anything for my princess, of course! She can't imagine a better replacement for her, but she still feels a little worried.

Her father practically locked her in her room. She only managed to get out hours ago, when she asked to visit her mother. All the fight from his father's eyes withered and he looked down at her daughter sadly.

It's almost her death anniversary, Dad, she had said.

At least let me come with you.

No, Dad, you get to see her alone every day, she had said, and it's true. His father thought she didn't know that he visits his wife every day of the year. She found this out when she came to her grave alone, and she saw fresh flowers. She had asked the grounds keeper who put it there, and was told that her father did. The keeper said that her father always arrived unfailingly. I want to see her alone today. Please.

She feels her conscience shaking its finger at her for using her mother as a reason to get out of her room. But she really did want to see her today. Something about the close proximity of the Winter Cup makes her yearn for solace.

She lifts her wrist to peer at her watch. Eight thirty.

"Huh. I've been here for over two hours," she mutters, barely surprised. Whenever she visits her mother, she always loses track of time.

She doesn't do much; she just talks to the stone where her mother's name is etched into until her throat runs dry. Then, she doesn't speak at all; just breathes in the solemn silence and tries not to stare too much at the few people walking around.

She pulls herself up, ignoring the urge to lie back down and sleep until morning. Her cold is making her body feel extremely heavy. She walks around her mother's grave until she's facing her name.

She kneels down and brushes her fingers lightly on the stone. "Bye, Mom. I'll be back next week. Please wait for me. I love you."

She walks away, trying not to look back and failing.

She pulls her coat tighter around her as she reaches the bus stop. She regrets putting on this coat because its material is thinner than the usual winter coats. In her hurry to get out of the house, she had grabbed the closest coat she could find. She shivers, impatience for the bus growing in her exponentially.

There are only two other people in the bus stop besides her, and that's arguable because they can't seem to get their hands off each other. Their arms are literally locked around each other. Okay, maybe not literally literally, but hyperbole literally. Riko wonders in light bitterness how they can even stand being so near to someone like that. She predicts that they can see each other's hair follicles very clearly. When the bus arrives she sits down as far as she can from that semi-hermaphrodite.

One thing she doesn't ever let herself think about is romance. Her lack of suitors did not decide this for her, but the lack of boyfriend material surrounding her did.

A lot of her girlfriends think that she's especially lucky to be around guys like her basketball team―something she considers incomprehensible. Of course it's an honor to work with such talent that Kagami and Kuroko have, but her friends didn't sound like they were praising her team's stats. They almost sound like her boys can be prospective boyfriends. She gags at that thought.

She can't even comprehend the possibility of her falling for one of them. It's the pinnacle of unprofessionalism. If, god forbid, she ever falls in love with any of them, she'll probably have to quit coaching. She recoils from that thought in terror.

The bus shudders to a stop in front of her destination, Maiji Burger. She hasn't eaten anything but soup in the last few days. She jumps off the bus happily, already basking in the smell surrounding the restaurant.

There are a lot of people tonight, and as she stands in line she feels a tiny pin prick of fear that she won't be able to find a seat. She keeps eyeing the other patrons, hoping to will them away with just her mind.

When she has made her order, her eyes zone in an empty booth close to the window, and she almost dashes to it. But before she can even sit, she hears a voice say Hello, Coach and it almost makes her jump out of her skin.

Her eyes snap to the voice, panicked. It's only Kuroko, though, looking up at him with placid blue eyes. "Kuroko-kun?" she squeaks, her hands holding her tray slightly trembling. "Don't scare me like that!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he says tonelessly. Of course you didn't. Sheesh, and I thought I got used to his lack of presence already.

She sits down slowly, her heart racing. "Hello," she says. "What are you doing here out so late?"

He takes a sip from a paper cup before answering. "I always go here for their shakes before I go home."

"It's been two hours since practice. Don't tell me you've been drinking milkshakes since we left the gym," she chides lightly.

"No, I practiced my shooting a little bit after training ended," he shrugs, "What about you? You're sick, aren't you?"

Riko stiffens slightly, fingering the wrapper of her burger. "I visited someone," she says finally.

"Oh," he says, and turns away from her to stare at the people outside the window.

Before she can lift the burger to her mouth though, her phone produces a shrill sound of a call. She groans and fishes it out of her pocket. It's her father.

"Hi, Papa," she greets bitingly, "I'm fine, I'm fine… I'm just grabbing a bite to eat… No, I'm not alone… why do you need to know... It's Kuroko-kun. No this is not a date," she rubs the bridge of her nose tiredly. "I'll be back as soon as I finish eating. Yes, sir. Yeah, sure, sure. Bye, Papa. I said bye, goddammit!"

She snaps her phone shut, gritting her teeth. "I swear he gets clingier every day."

"He's just worried. He's your dad after all."

Riko throws Kuroko a brief exasperated look before sighing. "You're right."

He turns away from her again, and she finally takes a bite of her food.

As Riko munches on her burger she steals glances at Kuroko, and finds it incredibly fascinating, how his eyes flicker from one passing stranger to another. He's surveying them; like bird-watching. Riko turns to the window too, looking for what has enraptured his attention. All she sees are random, unhurried people walking in flat steps, barely crucial to anything or anyone. But Kuroko can't take his eyes off them, and she finds this fact amusing.

"Are any of them interesting?" she asks in an offhand voice, tilting her head at him.

Without turning to her, he says purposefully, "All of them are interesting."

She smiles bemusedly. "You really think so? I don't."

And it's true. To her, the only people worth watching are the ones who move with purpose she knows. Random passersby never really catch her attention for too long; only for a fleeting moment, when they make something of themselves, like scream or sob in the middle of the street. Movement with inexplicable purpose disgusts her, in the most innocent way. After all, she doesn't train her boys to dawdle on the court.

Kuroko shrugs and shifts his gaze to her. "Shouldn't you be the one who finds them interesting? You like observing people, too. Isn't that the foundation of your ability?"

"Yes, but not just anyone. I observe people when I have to, not whenever they pass my line of vision," she waves at the air in front of her in emphasis. "But I'm not saying you're wrong. I suppose they're quite interesting. I mean, if you imagine them wholly, like what their favorite colors are, or whether they're cat or dog persons. It's kind of like reading an autobiography, just by looking at what a person looks like."

Kuroko smiles gently at her, a hint of approval in the quirk of his lips. "You took the words from my mouth."

She chuckles appreciatively. "Well, I didn't want to sound bitter or something, like I had this inane aversion for strangers because I don't. I just don't… appreciate them like you do. They're just people."

Kuroko nods wordlessly. He sips again from his cup and there's a sound of sucking empty air. He drops his cup down on the table.

"Oh, you're finished already," she says, "I guess I'll see you when I get better, then."

Kuroko tilts his head at her. "I'm not leaving yet," he tells her, his voice suggesting that she should know this.

"Why not?" she asks, confused.

"Well, I can't just leave you alone. You told your father you're with me."

"Yeah, but you don't have to stay," she reasons. She gestures at her food, "I'm almost done anyway."

"I'll just wait for you to finish," he says with a finality that's hard to argue against. "It's very rude to leave a lady alone."

"Lady?" she asks blushing, but lets him stay anyway.

She eats in silence then, feeling incredibly light somehow. Being called a lady like that, without a hint of malice or derogatoriness, makes her cheeks heat up. She bites carefully, slowly, not to make him stay longer, of course, but to live up to what he called her. She suddenly feels delicate, significant.

When she stands up, he dutifully follows. She smiles, amused. "Thanks for waiting for me, Kuroko-kun," she says, trying to sound impersonal.

"It's the least I could do," he says simply.

She wonders at that, because he makes it sound like she has just done him a great favor. She raises her eyebrows at him, and he stares back unblinkingly. Again, the sides of her face turn hot as if close to a flame. She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to make sense of the feeling.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No," she says dismissively, "It's nothing. Anyway, let me get you something in return, then. As a token of thanks."

"You don't have to," he says but she has already slipped past him. She walks to the counter, Kuroko just a few steps behind her. She's first on the line, and asks for two milkshakes, please.

"Coach, you really don't have to," he tries again.

"I heard you the first time," she replies flippantly. She hears him sigh, which makes her chuckle to herself.

"Here you go, Miss," the cashier says with a smile, and hands Riko two paper cups. Riko turns to Kuroko and gives him a cup and he takes it hesitantly. "You really didn't have to," he says, frowning.

"Say that one more time and I'll make you run twenty laps around this place," she drawls, already making her way to the exit. The flavor tickles her tongue; the coldness of it makes her sore throat ache more. She hides her cough in her fist. The cold wind outside isn't helping, either.

"Thank you, Coach," he says, stepping beside her on the pavement. She looks up at him, the straw between her teeth. "It's the least I could do," she shrugs, smiling.

He smiles back, taking a sip from his own cup. "Let's go then," he says, moving to take a step.

"Go where?" she asks, mildly stunned.

"To your house."

"What? Why?"

"It's getting late and I can't possibly let you walk home alone; not when you're sick," he says, like it's the most obvious thing there is.

Her heart flutters involuntarily at that, and she feels the sensation of falling. It's the way he said it, like he's obligated,that moves her. She stutters clumsily for a few moments, unaware of the right words to say.

"Coach, come on," he says, nodding his head to the general direction of her house.

"You don't have to!" her lips finally say, and it sounds awfully desperate, like the only thing she wants is to get rid of him. Which is far from the truth, somehow.

Kuroko moves his milkshake in front of her. "You've given me no choice, though."

She swears that there's some invisible fire burning around her, because suddenly she feels the soft warmth of embarrassment and pleasure at the same time. She sighs, making sure she sounds irritated at best.

"Fine," she says with veiled gratification.

She finds it difficult to move her limbs, as if the cold has woven itself into her joints. The hand holding onto her milkshake is trembling, and she's fighting to keep it still.

Maybe it's her paper thin coat, or maybe it's just the great bursts of winter wind, but Riko shakes like a leaf in a storm, and she hopes he doesn't notice. But he does, and suddenly he's taking off his coat and laying it on her squared shoulders.

He's wearing a long sleeved shirt, but it doesn't stand a chance against the freezing temperature.

"You don't have to, Kuroko-kun," and although it's irritating to hear his words in her voice, Riko is instantly enveloped in a cocoon of warmth, the cold fading away. The first thing she notices is his smell that's clinging on his coat. If anything he smells like winter, of pine tree scents hanging on a car's rear view mirror, mixed with that cool fragrance of mint. Riko pushes the thoughts aside and says, "I'm serious. You might catch a cold."

"I might," he replies lightly, "But you already have one so I think that this is better."

She sighs, feigning exasperation to hide the smile blooming on her lips. "Thank you," she whispers against the collar of his coat, clutching it tighter around her. The warmth makes her forget for a while her itchy throat and her runny nose.

They walk in silence. Riko can't think of anything to say, which, surprisingly, is not annoying at all. She is starting to like the absence of words between them, because then there's nothing to listen to but her breaths in time with his, just like their footsteps, and some occasional strangers' hums or sighs. She hasn't been alone like this with anyone, because she hates suffocating silences that she has always thought impolite. But with Kuroko she feels that it's okay not to make a sound, like he knows what she wants to say before it slips out of her mouth.

And though they've walked together countless other times, it had never been like this. They're closer together, their shoulders almost brushing. She finds that she's counting the times when he almost touches her hand with his (five times since they left Maiji) and in every instance she sucks in a sharp breath as if stung, which is weird because his skin doesn't even touch hers because the sleeves of his coat falls past her hands.

She wonders if this is why those people back at the bus stop couldn't stop touching each other. Almost touching Kuroko sends her skin into overdrive; she thinks yearningly about how it would feel to finally come in contact with him.

Wait, what? she gasps mentally, affronted. Where did that come from?

It's not like she hasn't touched him before. There isn't one of her boys that hasn't been on the receiving end of her wrestling holds.

But… I haven't really held his hand… I wonder how it would… she slaps her cheek in an attempt to shake out those presumptuous thoughts. Get a hold of yourself, Riko! She is reminded of her personal vow a while ago, how she'd probably quit coaching if she ever liked one of her boys like that. Slowly she looks up at Kuroko, pale in the street light, blue eyes alert and observing. How the orange of the lamp posts touches his hair takes her breath away, how he stands taller makes her feel safe, somehow. Safer than waking beside Teppei or Junpei, who are much taller than Kuroko. She wonders at that, feeling pleasantly confused, which is extremely weird.

She indulges in the thought of quitting coaching for those eyes, for that voice―and promptly stumbles, accidentally losing her grip on her milkshake. It falls in a spectacular splash on the ground and she curses. That was a good milkshake, she laments, although her throat has been itching as hell since she drank it.

"Coach, do you want mine?" Kuroko has stopped too and is extending his milkshake to her.

She sniffs, backing away from him with her hands held up in front of her. "No, no it's fine. I'm good. Besides, I bought that for you." Maybe it's the cold, but she can feel her cheeks flaming.

He nods, "Okay. Please watch your step next time."

She swallows thickly, humiliated. Now he thinks I'm a klutz! she screams at herself, then, another shout beats her first one, who cares what he thinks?!

It's been ten minutes since they left Maiji and it will take approximately five more minutes till they reach her house. For a quick moment she entertains the thought of not wanting to go home so she could keep this kind of warmth close to her―subtle heat that reminds her of light snowflakes against her nose, of a hot mug of chocolate, of simpler days.

But of course she won't have that. Not when just a few more steps it's time to let go. She can't possibly keep the coat, not when he needs it in his long walk home.

Riko can see him clenching his fists in his pockets, his breaths stuttering. She feels guilt stab her right through the chest. She hadn't even given enough thought to him.

Well, that's technically true.

She bites her lip, "You can have it back now, Kuroko-kun. I don't feel cold anymore."

He shakes his head resolutely, "No, Coach, you keep it."

"But―"

"Who did you visit?" he asks suddenly, probably to change the subject.

"Why do you need to know?" she asks, suddenly feeling defensive. She stops walking and so does he.

"Well, you've been sick for a week now, and you're father hasn't let you out since. But now he does. Did you visit someone important?"

"Yes," she says quietly, finding no reason to lie. She looks down uncomfortably. Suddenly the warmth of him vanishes, and she feels abandoned by the magic of his scent. "My mother."

"Oh," he says with a voice like widening eyes. "I see."

They stand across from each other for a long moment, people needing to walk around them. She hasn't told anyone about her mother; everyone always seem to find out without her help. Junpei and the other second years never bring it up with her, and so does her other friends. But she knows for a certain that they're aware. She can feel it in the looks they give her when the subject arises in class, or when they catch her looking longingly at a woman holding a child's hand.

She figures Kuroko has been briefed about the subject by the sophomores. Somehow she feels betrayed.

"Don't look at me like that," she says, even though she can't see his eyes.

"Look at you like what?"

She looks up slowly, and sees no pity in his face. Only a serene understanding, unquestioning and unblemished. She has never seen someone look so devoid of fault. She stifles a sob.

"I'm sorry," she hears herself say, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for anything," he says, and the warmth is back again, originating from her chest until it spreads like wildfire through her body. She recognizes this sensation: gratitude. He smiles gently at her, and she suddenly imagines him extending his hand to her, this time without the milkshake. This time just his hand, and she wonders if it would feel as warm as she feels under his coat.

"Come on, let's get you home."

xxx

Her house is just two lampposts away and she's counting her breaths, counting one, two, three, four, five, six, until they're standing by the gate. She sees her father's silhouette from the window.

One, two, three.

She shrugs off his coat and hands it back to him, and he takes it gratefully. It seems to her that he's trying not to look too enthusiastic about getting his coat back. Kuroko-kun the gentleman. It's not the first time he's made her smile in such a short time.

"Thank you." For everything.

It's amazing how she feels the cold digging into her like a thousand needles. She takes a look at his coat again, a normal Seirin jacket. Nothing special except it's his. How it managed to protect her from this suffocating cold, she doesn't know.

It hasn't been a minute and she already misses his scent around her. She swallows down a cough.

"You're welcome. You should go inside before your cold gets worse."

"Uh, yeah." She wants to look at him but doesn't. She turns her eyes to the gate instead. "Bye. Take care."

"I will."

Riko nods to him and steps inside. She can hear his footsteps, one two, three, ghosting away from her ears. Her ears strain hard, unreasonably waiting for his voice. A thought strikes her suddenly, and before thinking it through she makes the decision.

He's a streetlight away before she pushes the gates to step outside again. "Oh, Kuroko-kun!" She calls, and she hopes she doesn't sound too needy. He turns around, his eyebrows raised halfway expectantly. "Send me a message when you get home, okay? I don't want to worry about you all night when I should be resting!"

Maybe she's imagining it because he's too far away, but she thinks she sees him smile. "I will."

xxx

She's retiring for the night, having finished taking a shower. The light in her father's room had disappeared minutes ago.

Riko lies down, inserting her earphones. She hums the first song, thinking back to an hour ago. Visiting her mother, bumping into Kuroko, him walking her home.

She cringes to fight off a smile when she thinks of how he insisted that she take his coat at his expense. She can still smell him, still see the coat's sleeves that could cover her whole arm and still have about two inches to spare. She coughs lightly, her lips resigning to her will and forming softly into a smile.

And with these thoughts plaguing her mind, she drifts slowly to sleep, only being shaken out of it by suddenly remembering something. She sits up straight, tugging her earphones off her.

"Did he get home safe?"

Riko rummages through her sheets for her phone. When she picks it up she holds her breath until she sees an unread message.

From: Kuroko Tetsuya

Sent: 10:15 pm

I just got home. You can go rest now.

She breathes a sigh of relief, bringing the phone close to her chest. Her eyes suddenly feel heavy, like they're supporting an immense, invisible weight, and she falls asleep wondering how those last five words can feel warmer than being under her sheets.