A/N: Look at me updating before a full year has passed. Shout out to my reviewers and everyone else who followed/favourited this story. Longer Author's Note at the end.

You were Conceived Next to a Tortoise Enclosure

A Month of Tuesdays

The First Tuesday

"Nijimura; under his guidance you've done well until now, but according to his recommendation there will be a captain change," said Shirogane, head coach to the basketball team. "Akashi Seijuro will now be captain. I don't know if the third years will like it, but we all know of our club's doctrine. Victory is our only goal."

A quiet settled over the gymnasium as everyone watched Akashi Seijuro step forward and bow. It wasn't so much uncomfortable as it was confused. The only people who didn't look as surprised were the third years who immediately bowed in return and were followed clumsily by the others.

"I don't get it," Kise muttered to Midorima as they straightened up again. "Passing over the captaincy like that, right before the Nationals?"

"It's reasonable to assume that there are things going on in the background that we're not privy to," said Midorima. "In that case it's best that we mind our own business."

That went better than he'd expected, thought Nijimura, kicking up a basketball and joining the rest of the team for drills. It had been difficult enough breaking the news to the coach and then having to explain everything to the third years who had been in this with him since the very beginning so he was glad when the rest of the first-string seemed to quietly accept the change. Telling people had started off easily enough. Ito had held his hand while he struggled to whisper out the words for his father's diagnosis, while his aunt had wept inconsolably into the phone and his presence was gratefully pushed out of the conversation until she needed the name of the hospital. Explanation after explanation and each time his voice grew a little less hoarse, his eyes a little less watery until he was simply reading off a script and the father who was dying in his hospital bed seemed to belong to someone else.

Nijimura ducked as a basketball zoomed over his head and slammed into the wall behind him. Turning, he saw the squat figure of a small gremlin hissing from the other side of the court.

"The hell," he muttered to himself as it skittered away into the girl's changing rooms.

Kuroko appeared at his side and Nijimura, who had been practising the art of not looking like he gave a shit in the mirror since he was twelve, did not flinch a muscle.

"Kame-san doesn't like change," said Kuroko, who had long since accepted that if Tsukino was the Demon of the First-String then he was her de facto translator.

"What do you suggest?" asked Nijimura.

"I don't know," said Kuroko, and then seeing Nijimura's confusion added, "This is new territory for me. You're the first-person Kame-san has ever really looked up to. Other than-"

"Takeshi Kaneshiro. Looks up to me, huh? That's rich."

"You might not believe it, Nijimura-san, but it's true."

Rolling his shoulders back, Nijimura stood a little taller. "Ah."

"Anyway," continued Kuroko. "I think this is one of those times where you'll just have to wait and see what happens."

Something moved in the corner of his eye and Nijimura braced himself for the incoming projectile. When nothing sharp flew through the air he relaxed. It was strange but though he'd been relieved when no one had kicked up a fuss over his demotion, he had to admit Tsukino's unwillingness to let go of the past was a small reminder that not everything was going to hell. Maybe when the feeling came back in his voice he could sit her down and give one last explanation.

In the changing rooms, Momoi watched in resignation as Tsukino stood over Nijimura's locker, various small tools sticking out from between her teeth and knuckles. Grabbing the spray bottle, courtesy of Sakata, Momoi pointed it at the demon and squirted.

The Second Tuesday

Long coach journeys made Aomine feel sleepy as it was but leaning cosily up against Tsukino, who had pulled his hand into her lap in order to scribble on it, made it even harder to stay afloat. Arching his back, he ran his hand through his hair and slapped himself awake. He checked his arm and was relieved to see there were no genitals.

Now that Nijimura was no longer captain, when Tsukino had loudly declared her boredom halfway through the journey he had simply leaned back in his seat, pulled a mask over his eyes, and switched on his meditation app. This meant Akashi was left with the burden of finding something to distract Tsukino with before she discovered that the microphone at the front of the coach was not broken as everyone had led her to believe but in fact fully functional and attached to a karaoke system. If today's match had taught them anything it was that the Demon of the First-String should never again be allowed near anything that amplified its voice. The aggressive cheering had been one thing, but the memory of her serenading them in what could only be described as a dying cat's falsetto would haunt them until the end of their days. Ten minutes of scrounging around in bags and the team were able to produce several colourful marker pens, and when no decent paper could be found, Aomine threw himself on his sword.

"What do you think Midorima and Kise's couple name would be?" asked Tsukino, putting away the markers.

"Dumbass," he replied automatically.

"Midoki?" said Tsukino. "Or Kidorima? I think I prefer Kidorima. It sounds like a children's play area for nerds. Kid-or-ima."

"Did someone say my name?" called a loud voice. "Which one of you is talking about me?"

"Shut up, Midochin," whined the big purple giant who had been trying to take a nap beside him.

Sniggering, Tsukino ducked low as Midorima shot up from his seat to survey the team for any guilty faces.

"Who was it? Was it you, Tsukino? It was you, wasn't it? I can see you cowering in your seat-"

"Sit down and shut up, Midorima!" barked Nijimura before taking a deep breath and centring his chi.

Teiko had had an absolute victory over the other team, the name of which was already fading from Aomine's memory. He had crushed them. It wasn't the word he usually used to describe his form of play, but what he saw in their hollow eyes at the end of the match made it a fitting description. After the first quarter he recalled how he had been moments away from asking the coach to sub him out when he'd heard it.

"Aomine Daiki! Aomine Daiki! He might look like a blue-haired giraffe but he's going to kick your arse! Aomine Daiki! Aomine- What? I'm not allowed to say arse? What? It's not a swear word. Hey, give that back!"

In her giant baby blue demon suit, wrestling over the mic with the security guard, Tsukino had cheered him on from the rafters. While everyone wondered how in the hell she had gotten up there in the first place, Aomine decided that he couldn't leave the game, not when she'd gone to such lengths to hype him up. So he forced himself to play until the end, which was a feat in itself when she started to sing what she considered to be the Japanese national anthem in English.

Honestly, it was a miracle she had not been arrested and the only reason she was not currently tied up in the luggage compartment was because Nijimura had gleefully expressed that it was technically a violation of her human rights and Akashi had recently read a highly recommended parenting book that was based on the concept that the word 'no' only served to activate the oppositional part of the brain in children. Too bad they'd never met Tsukino, whose brain was all parts oppositional, and who had apparently just learned how to scale the side of a building in a 50lb mascot suit. At that moment Akashi was writing an extremely critical review on their website, but really he blamed himself.

"Is this… a tortoise?" asked Aomine, inspecting the top of his hand.

"Yeah," said Tsukino, pointing at the skinny blue blob beside it. "And that's a hare. It's you and me."

"You're a tortoise," Aomine said slowly. "And I'm a hare."

"Like in that story where the tortoise-"

"Don't say it."

"-And the hare have a passionate love affair but then the tortoise runs away and the hare tries to chase it but the tortoise is too fast and so the hare takes a nap but when he wakes up the tortoise is dead."

They stared at each other.

"The BLEEP is wrong with you."

The Third Tuesday

In the canteen a week later, Sakata Riyeko was sitting with Konishi discussing the next newsletter and the best way to increase engagement. Sakata had been trying to convince Konishi that recruitment had not stalled ever since Tsukino had started to elbow her way to the front of the canteen queue while brandishing her Swim Club pin like an FBI badge, but Konishi wasn't convinced. Still, the younger members of the club did seem to appreciate the fact that no matter how difficult training could get, they could always look over at the shallow end of the pool where a purple blob splashed about angrily like their very own pet piranha.

In the middle of a heated discussion over whether or not a picture of Tsukino should be featured on the front page of the newsletter above the caption 'Teiko's Rising Starfish' the captain and vice-captain of the boys' team sidled up to their table.

"Ah, Konishi-san," said the captain, scratching the back of his neck bashfully, "do you think I could bend your ear for a second about recruitment? I couldn't help but overhear that you were having similar troubles."

"Of course," said Konishi, "I'll see you later, Sakata. We'll continue our discussion about the… picture later."

Once they'd gone, Okada made himself comfortable on the bench opposite Sakata. "Mind if I join you, Sakata-san?" he asked.

"It's clear you don't care if I mind," said Sakata.

"You're right, that was incredibly rude of me," said Okada, the smile on his face unapologetic. "So, I'm right in saying that you're good friends with Tsukino Kame?"

"Best friends," corrected Sakata. "I'm not sure what your aim is here, but I have no intention of helping you ingratiate yourself with her."

Okada raised his hand in the air. "I would never even entertain such a thought." He reached into his pocket and slid a piece of paper across to her. "Just give this to her, will you? Or not. It's up to you."

"What is it?" asked Sakata, eyeing it suspiciously.

"My phone number, you know, in case Tsukino wants to give me a ring for… extra swim lessons."

"My swim lessons are more than enough for her," said Sakata, an edge to her voice. "She has recently mastered the doggy paddle."

Okada chuckled. "Of course, I didn't mean to offend you, Sakata-san. But you know, extra swim lessons are a euphemism here, right?"

There was a pause. Then Sakata Riyeko smiled. It was a unique sight to behold. One could liken it to waking up one morning only to discover that you are no longer a person but a toilet and that the lactose intolerant man who owns you just ate an entire New York Cheesecake by himself. On the face of it there was nothing unusual about the smile, one could even say it was pretty. It showed a small suggestion of teeth, and the eyes crinkled at the corners. But the longer you looked at it, the deeper you found yourself being pulled into the dark promise hidden behind her eyes. Okada felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Thanks so much, Okada-san," said Sakata, her voice uncharacteristically bright. "Have a nice day."

"O-okay," said Okada, scrambling off the bench.

As soon as he was gone, Sakata took a lighter from her pocket and set the piece of paper on fire.

Returning to class, Sakata found Tsukino in her usual spot opposite Aomine, half folded over his desk with laughter. Aomine watched her fondly before ruffling her hair. Then, feeling as if someone was watching them, he looked up and met Sakata's inscrutable gaze. The fond expression was replaced with a blush, and like a toddler who had been told it was time to go to bed he folded his arms, turned in the opposite direction and scowled out of the window. Noticing the change, Tsukino sat up and grabbed hold of his cheeks, squeezing them aggressively in an attempt to find out what had happened. But she was batted away and forced to surrender. Whatever warm moments that had passed between them expired like a bowl of egg salad left out in the hot sun.

Eventually the bell rang and Tsukino was forced to come back to her usual place in front of Sakata.

"What were you laughing about?" Sakata asked as Hasegawa-sensei came trudging in.

"Ah, I don't really remember. Giraffe boy decided to throw a shit fit and now he won't talk to me," said Tsukino. "How was your lunch? Did you sort out the newsletter?"

"Konishi-san and I had a major breakthrough," said Sakata, taking out the mock-up from her bag.

Tsukino peered over at the sheet with the practised interest of someone who had been lectured by Midorima one too many times on proper social etiquette.

"As you can see, Calibri is the new Arial," said Sakata drawing a line with her finger under the chosen font. "We predict that interest in the swim club will rise one-point-five percent."

"I prefer Comic Sans," said Tsukino, scrunching up her nose.

"You would," said Sakata, returning the sheet to her bag. "You lack taste."

"That's not true."

"I once saw you dip an Oreo into miso soup."

"Well duh, I ran out milk."

"When we went to the Art Museum last weekend you asked me, without irony, who Pablo Picasso was."

"And you still haven't told me."

"Neon green crocs," Sakata said with an air of finality.

Tsukino hung her head in shame.

The Final Tuesday

As Aomine lay on the rooftop like a starfish, his tie fluttering in the breeze, Tsukino knelt beside him and tapped his forehead like it was a drum. The expression that met her when he opened his eyes was so tired that she had the urge to get him a blanket and tuck him in like she would Number Five when he'd passed out on her bed after a game of upsy-daisy. Tsukino pressed her fingers into Aomine's cheeks and pulled his mouth into a smile and when he grabbed her wrists she didn't fight back. She simply leaned in close and grinned as hard as she could, so hard that her cheeks started to hurt and he let go of her wrists, cupped her face in his hands and softened the lines until there was a gentleness.

Her phone rang. It was Mareo. She had to go. Urgent.

She asked him if he would go to practice, told him that Momoi was worried and that Kuroko, though he didn't say it, missed him. Aomine simply tucked his hands behind his neck and closed his eyes. When she was gone, one eye opened, then the other, and then he was standing up, sprinting to the roof exit, and darting down the stairs, determined to know once and for all what she did for Mareo.

The most recent theory was that Mareo was a drug dealing money launderer who used Tsukino to swap out the dodgy notes with the clean ones she found in the wallets of her beleaguered classmates. It was no big mystery who came up with that one. Then there was Midorima's theory that Mareo was a supervillain and Tsukino was his Renfield. Midorima had explained that Renfield was Dracula's unstable servant, or as Sakata liked it to call it; bitchboy. He ate insects in exchange for the promise of immortality and everyone had immediately nodded their heads and agreed that that was the kind of bullshit Tsukino would sign up for.

So, when he arrived outside of the Model Architect Society's clubroom, Aomine was totally stumped. He couldn't fathom what Mareo would need from a club that was made up of people like Goldie McRiding Hood, unless craft material could double as some kind of bomb making ingredients that Aomine was not aware of.

Cracking the door open, he spied inside the room. He couldn't see her with all of the model skyscrapers obscuring his vision but he could hear her rummaging around at the back. Stealing into the room, he crept along the edges of the display tables until he found her piling small packets of plywood into her swim club tote bag.

Aomine cleared his throat. This was the wrong move. He leapt back as Tsukino, mistaking him for a member of the disciplinary committee, swung a plank at him. Leaping back, he bumped the table hard. There was a loud crunching noise as a castle that had not yet been glued onto its backing board fell onto the floor and split down the middle.

"My bad," said Aomine, grinning nervously at her.

Wordlessly, Tsukino picked up the two halves, laid them on a work bench and grabbed a glue gun from a cabinet that was probably supposed to be locked. Aomine offered his assistance, which she accepted in the form of him holding the two pieces steady while she took on the delicate task of lining the edges with hot glue with enough precision that when he was asked to press the two pieces back together, you could barely see where it had cracked. It was lucky that it had been a clean break.

While Aomine held the two sections together, Tsukino, without much prodding told him about how in elementary school she and her friend Mareo would build these small model planes his granddad bought him before their ambition grew into the shape of houses and then towns and then cities. Tsukino, who had a very boorish touch even then was delegated the more heavy handed tasks like fetching and carrying while Mareo would be in charge of the jobs that required precision and delicacy, like designing, and measuring, and gluing, and assembling, and basically everything else.

Since Kuroko thought that model making was too dorky (even for the boy who once dressed up like Sailor Mercury and dragged Tsukino to Comic Con under the false impression that Takeshi Kaneshiro would be signing autographs), she was overjoyed when she found out that Teiko had a Model Architects Society. But in her first few weeks she had already cemented a delinquent reputation after setting fire to Ichiro and Zinan's framed uniforms and so her request to join was rejected outright. Some of them had even had the nerve to laugh at her and so the next morning before school started, she had taken her Godzilla doll and re-enacted several violent scenes from the films upon their miniature cities.

Inevitably, she had returned to Mareo, who had started his own Model Architect Society at his new high school and could always use someone to carry, and fetch, and sometimes even steal from Teiko's society, because what good had they ever done her.

Aomine listened with barely a change in his expression and when the glue had set, he released the castle, which looked as good as new and faced her properly.

"I finally get why Tetsu hates this guy," said Aomine.

"Nah, you two just don't get it," said Tsukino, packing away the glue gun. "Mareo's like me. People don't really like him either. And he's not so bad. He's the only one who lets me work on the models. And I help out a lot, you know. He said that without me, there's no way he would have gotten through to the semi-finals. Kise bought some quality shit from Craft Craft Craft."

"Who said people don't like you?" asked Aomine.

"You don't count. We're boyfriend and girlfriend," said Tsukino, grinning. "You love me."

"Don't try to change the subject," grumbled Aomine, heat rising to his cheeks. "What would happen if I went and told Sakata that you said people don't like you."

Horror dawned on her face. "Please don't do that. I can literally see the petition she would hand out to get people to sign up to be my friend. She'd use her fancy new Calibri font."

"Yeah, and is that the kinda thing someone does if they don't like you?" asked Aomine, flicking her forehead. "So maybe you were kind of an unbearable pain in the ass back in elementary school… and most of first year, but you've grown up now and you have plenty of friends."

"Mareo is my friend too," said Tsukino, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"Friends don't use each other."

"Okay, so let's say I could just stop being friends with him," said Tsukino. "How am I supposed to keep making models without him?"

"You don't need him to make models."

"But I can't do it properly. I'm all thumbs and I break things easily. I'm not talented or anything like that. Mareo's the one who's good at the details."

Aomine scratched his head, appearing to be in deep thought. "Do you remember in first year, when Tetsu wanted to quit basketball?"

"Sort of…"

"Did he ever tell you about the conversation we had about it?"

"I couldn't even remember your name back then so what do you think?"

"Uhuh, well listen up cos I'm gonna tell you what I told him," said Aomine. There was a brief lull as he strained to recall his sage advice. "It was something like… if you try you'll… if you don't try you won't succeed."

"Isn't that on the billboard outside the Chicken Shop?"

"Hold on, hold on… it was something like if you give up now you can't do anything-"

"That's obvious. You suck at this."

"God damnit, what was it?" muttered Aomine. "It's like this; if you really wanna build a model of the Eiffel Tower then you can build a model of the Eiffel Tower-"

"-I prefer Neo-Renaissance architecture."

"You can say Neo-Renaissance but you can't say ambassador, huh, the hell is wrong with you, shit-for-brains?" asked Aomine, deadly serious. He shook his head and resumed his inspirational speech. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that you're never gonna do anything if you're chasing after this Mareo guy."

"Is this what your wedding vows are going to be like, because if so you and I need to have a long conversation about the nature of romance."

"Tch, stop joking around for a second, Tsukino, and really understand what I'm saying. You're not useless or untalented but if you keep telling yourself that, nothing's ever going to change."

"But," said Tsukino, her lips screwing up in that uncomfortable expression he hated seeing so much, "what if I suck?"

Aomine shrugged. "You suck. The world won't end and at least you'll know. Plus, the first twenty-five were bloody, but the rest were perfect."

"Twenty-five what? Huh?"

Aomine grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her out of the club. They ended up in their homeroom standing in front of the wall display where one hundred red origami flowers had been pinned around pictures of their class during the school festival. The first twenty-five flowers had been bloodied, torn and uneven, and after that she had only been only allowed to work with red paper. But the next seventy-five, she realised as she traced her fingers over them, were better. Or maybe, she thought looking at Aomine's smug grin, perfect.

Author's Note:

Hello my lovely readers! So this is more of a drabble chapter because honestly the upcoming storyline is pretty big and sort of leading up to when Aomine turns into his lovely arrogant self so I've been avoiding it.

Let's talk about this chapter. Was anyone expecting the Mareo backstory ? I've actually planned this out from almost the very beginning, trying to pepper in hints where I could. There was going to be a huge dramatic reveal but I preferred this heartfelt conversation in the end between Aomine and Tsukino. Plus Aomine knowing has opened up a few more storylines. Okada sadly isn't going away any time soon, but I definitely enjoyed writing this bit about Sakata. Their friendship gives me so much joy. Nijimura leaving the captaincy should have happened a lot sooner to be honest but I didn't want to lose him. But saying that I really enjoyed him acting like a cool divorced wino mum whose children have gone off to college.

To my reviewers! Thank you so much and for reassuring me about replies. I'm still struggling. I thought migrating over to Ao3 might have helped (which I tried for like a hot minute) but the Durarara and KNB fandom seems pretty dead on there so I'm staying on for the timebeing like the lame millennial I am.

Also to PenguinOtaku thank you so so so much for your fic rec for the Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency. I ended up staying up ALL NIGHT reading it because it is absolute FREAKING gold. I LOVED IT SO MUCH. Thank yooooooooou. If anyone else has anymore funny My Hero Academia comedy fic recs then please let me know. I have recently fallen in love with Dabi and Hawks' characters. No Endeavour/Hawks fics though please because honestly, even in spite of the whole abuser thing, the age difference is squicky.

To guest reviewer iloveyourstory can I just say I blushed like a school girl. I fully accept your proposal (so long as you too are an adult) and am excited about raising our baby (which will be definitely be named Kaiki) as an otaku.