Chapter 1

Kagami had never considered himself especially pessimistic. He approached most challenges and situations with a (relatively) open mind and a front of unshakeable determination, refusing to believe things had to be as bleak as they appeared on the outset. And yet here he was, a crumpled sheet of paper clutched in his fist reminding him of his latest crushing failure, hanging back behind Kuroko and dragging his feet as if he were walking to the gallows, instead of the street court down the block.

"Come on, Kagami-kun," Kuroko reproached softly, and even that intonement softened Kagami's rigid shoulders somewhat, "What's the worst that can happen?"

"After today? I might draw a line at the sky falling down," Kagami grumbled, tightening his fingers around the balled-up registration form in his hand.

The crystal blue gaze Kuroko shot him over his shoulder was as enigmatic as ever, but his voice was warm with sympathy, "Cheer up. What happened happened, and I know you got your hopes up that -"

"I've been waiting for this for almost two years, " Kagami said emphatically, catching up to him in two long, swift strides and glaring down into that stoic, emotionless face.

"I know," Kuroko went on calmly, undaunted by the interruption, "But we don't know Aida-san and Hyuuga-san's true motive behind rejecting you, it could be because you're technically a foreigner, you only came to Japan just last year..."

"Bullshit," Kagami snapped, jerking his head away, "You know why they said no. Again. It's just like last time."

It looked like even a team as puny and desperate for players as Seirin could afford to expend him. That was just the kind of world he lived in, and even after a year of trying to change his circumstances, a whole year of struggling and bribing and sacrificing, the answer hadn't become any less of a no, the gazes that followed him out of the gym any less pitying, and it pissed him off to no end.

Kuroko sighed, and didn't say anything for several steps. When he did speak, he wasn't meeting Kagami's gaze, "Still, I'm surprised you aren't more enthused about joining me for this game. I thought you said you really wanted a good match against strong players for once."

"I did...I do," Kagami swallowed, nudging a pebble in his path with the the toe of his shoe and watching it skitter away, "It's just...your teammates are…what if…?"

"Former teammates," Kuroko said dully, "From middle school. And they won't start anything….or at least, they shouldn't."

"Encouraging," Kagami fought an urge to roll his eyes. Kuroko had spoken of the so-called Generation of Miracles before, not at length and not in great detail, but it had always been with a conflicted, almost sad tone that Kagami could never quite pin down. There was definitely a history there, and even at the prospect of meeting them for the first time, he still wasn't sure he wanted the gory details.

"You're nervous?"

Kagami laughed the way he always did; short and cut-off with an uneasy wince, "No shit. I'm going up against five strangers - five guys I've never met - in a fucking streetball game of all things."

"Three guys," Kuroko corrected him, "Akita and Kyoto are too far for the other two to join us for a casual game." He paused, taking his lower lip between his teeth thoughtfully, "...Why would you worry about that, Kagami-kun? You were practically raised on streetball, and you're an amazing player."

"That's not it and you know it," Kagami snapped, almost immediately regretting the harshness of his tone. It wasn't Kuroko that was festering under his skin, pushing him past irritability and ever closer toward real rage.

Kuroko blinked, and when he looked up his gaze was just a little too knowing, seeming to spear right through Kagami and make his neck start to feel warm, but after a second or two he just shrugged and returned it to the pavement that stretched out before them, letting the conversation drop.

At first glance, the court seemed deserted, and Kagami was about to assume they were just fashionably early, when a gleeful, sing-song voice floated to them from the other side, accompanied by a whoosh as Kuroko was suddenly engulfed by a blur of whirling pink hair and blaring, furiously blushing estrogen.

"Tetsu-kuuuuuuuuuun~!" the girl shrieked, breaking into a giggle as she hugged her victim's pale blue head to her chest, surely squishing his nose right up against her generous breasts.

Kagami gulped and took a few steps back, eyeing her warily. And as the still giggling fiend only squeezed tighter, his hands lifted from his sides, only to hover in the air indecisively as he tried to work up the drive to duck in and pry Kuroko from her unforgiving arms.

Rescuing his friend and frequent partner vanished quite suddenly from his mind, however, as a deep, irritated and so clearly, inescapably masculine voice rang out; a large, richly tanned hand reaching around Kagami in the same instant to seize the collar of Kuroko's jacket.

"Knock it off, Satsuki," the second intruder drawled, dragging Kuroko away from the pink-haired menace that had practically tried to assimilate him into her well-endowed chest, "You're always throwing yourself at Tetsu and smothering him to death, can't you see it bothers him?"

Kagami glanced at Kuroko, who didn't seem particularly bothered, except for the fact that he was currently dangling aloft from the guy's hand like a cat held by the scruff of its neck, looking impassively reproachful. Wait…"Tetsu"? What does he mean by…?

His gaze shifted to the stranger, and he felt a startled impulse to stumble back a little further, having to tilt his head back to meet the person's lazy blue eyes. He was tall, yes, taller than Kagami by a small but still noticeable margin, and the very cut of his figure was rudely imposing, seeming to take up more space than it needed to, just because it could. His eyes flitted over long, long limbs, sleek with muscle and exposed by the skimpy black tank top and white shorts he was wearing. Not entirely suitable for the weather, but suitable enough for a game of basketball if he was really planning to sweat.

He didn't seem to have noticed Kagami yet. In fact, neither he nor his arrantly female friend had glanced his way once, which was fine by him. He wasn't looking to draw anyone's attention here any more than he had to, only to let loose and play against some real, challenging opponents for once. If he was lucky, he wouldn't even have to tell any of these alleged Miracles his name. He wasn't counting on that, though; it had been a lot easier to keep people out of his business and retain some semblance of anonymity while he was playing in the States, where people just didn't seem to ask as many questions when it came to basketball.

"Aomine-kun, I would like to stand on my own two feet, if you don't mind," Kuroko said matter-of-factly. Kagami watched the only mildly terrifying tall guy's face turn, for an instant, rather sheepish, and he released Kuroko's jacket to hold up his hands in supplication, before slipping them into the pockets of his shorts.

"Tetsu-kun," the girl from before began, and with a quick thrill of dread Kagami realized she had turned to him and was currently looking him up and down with critical pink eyes, "Is this the strong player you said you'd be bringing?"

Kagami bristled, not least because he didn't really appreciate being referred to as " this", nor did he appreciate the lofty, rather skeptical tone of voice she'd invoked all of the sudden.Don't look down on me, Ms. Boobs-A-Lot, you don't look like you've ever gone near a basketball. Unless you've got a pair hidden under your shirt there...

Without warning, Kuroko's elbow had jabbed itself punishingly into his ribs, and he staggered to the side with a horribly high-pitched yelp. Shit… Turning to glare at his attacker with equal parts indignance and betrayal, he was met with a cool blue gaze that told him either Kuroko was capable of reading minds - which honestly wouldn't even surprise him at this point - or had just read his expression very well. Either way, he clearly didn't approve of his line of thought, but he just redirected his attention to the girl without so much as a chastising word.

"Yes," he said simply, as if nothing had happened, "Momoi-san, this is Kagami-kun, my er...training partner. We're classmates in school."

"But not teammates?" the guy called Aomine asked, also roving his eyes over Kagami, albeit with more scorn than curiosity in their depths.

"No," Kagami muttered, cloaking his chest with his cautiously crossing arms and standing his ground, much as he felt like shrinking under the dual penetrating stares he was being given, "I'm not on a team. I play streetball, mostly."

Aomine snorted derisively, and Kagami wanted to kick him for it. Hard. In the shins. Idly, he wished he'd worn his steel-toed boots for the occasion.

"Don't underestimate me," he growled instead, unable to put the proper inflection into the words when his focus was on getting his voice to do that ambiguous rasping thing it did when he'd just woken up in the morning or shouted for hours on end. He couldn't pitch it as low and threatening as he would have liked either, but it was something.

Aomine didn't look at all impressed by the effort. If anything, he looked bored, and lifted his gaze from Kagami as if he'd completely lost interest in him. Somehow that was more insulting than the scorn.

"Are Kise-kun and Midorima-kun coming?" Kuroko broke in, just before Kagami could decide whether or not he should tear the bastard a new one, and he realized he was starting to grind his teeth. And that he was getting all worked up over a guy he didn't even know giving him attitude and then ignoring him; what was he, twelve?

"Yeah, Kise texted me he was on his way," Aomine said indifferently, rocking his weight back to settle on his heels, "And apparently Midorima's bringing Takao along."

"More like Takao-kun is bringing him," the girl Kagami was pretty sure was named Satsuki chimed in, grinning like she was in on some private joke.

Feeling irritation start to resurface, Kagami cast a furtive sideways glance at Kuroko. You said three people. It's gonna end up being five just like I thought... Though he supposed the arrangement did work well as far as setting up teams, provided either the busty pink girl or this Takao person was playing.

"Did you come as a referee today, Momoi-san?" Kuroko was asking of the girl in question, "Or are you planning to join in?"

"I came to see you, of course!" Momoi beamed, a faint flush springing up on her cheeks, "But um...I can be the ref if you need one, or a substitute, though...I don't think I'd be of much use."

"Nonsense, anyone who wants to play is welcome," Kuroko smiled - actually smiled - and for some reason that only kicked up Kagami's hackles higher. He wondered if he was actually steaming, or if he was just imagining it.

He thought he heard Aomine mutter something that sounded like "pointless" out of the side of his mouth, and for a second he felt inclined to agree, but then he realized those narrow, slanted blue eyes were resting judgmentally on him . When Aomine noticed him looking, he only flashed him an unapologetic half-sneer and turned away again.

Go on, give me another reason to kick your ass and use it to wipe down the court, he thought scathingly, shifting his weight to one leg and crossing his arms tighter, as much for camouflage as for restraint. This Aomine guy talked big, acted big, and Kagami was practically itching to see if his play measured up. Even if it turned out he really was all that, he was surely still in for a rude awakening when they actually did face off.

Everything Kagami had seen of Japanese basketball so far was sorely underwhelming, and this guy might be good, might be as strong as Kuroko claimed and more, but he didn't scare Kagami one bit. Well...the prospect of him coming into contact with the unkept secret of Kagami's chest might have, but there was nothing to be done about that. He did need to breathe in order to play, so binding was out of the question.

The sound of wheels clicking on the pavement and heavy panting pulled him from his thoughts, and signaled the arrival of - he assumed, by the conspicuous rickshaw that was pulling up beside the court - the other players that would be participating in this ragtag three-on-three.

"Finally," he exhaled, letting his arms fall to his sides and only then realizing that he still held the crumpled player registration form from earlier this afternoon in his fist. He glared at it, before slipping it into his pocket and shrugging his unzipped jacket down his shoulders.

He'd dug in his heels before, as Kuroko dragged him to this game he still wasn't sure wouldn't turn out to be a huge disaster, but now...reluctance and lingering nerves be damned...he was past ready to get started.

If nothing else, then to show this cocky bastard and his pink-haired playmate exactly what he was capable of.

TBC

((I did the thing. I've been saying I'm going to give this a try for months now, but I finally did the thing. I'm not...any less writer's blocked than I was, and here I go starting new things when I've got a pile of other fics that need my attention, but if nothing else, this was fun and strangely cathartic to write.

For clarity and disclaimer purposes, I myself am a transgender male, so some (but certainly not all) of this will be based on personal experience. Also I've renamed this story; the original name was really just a placeholder because I blanked on anything that would constitute as clever. Now it's got a double maybe triple meaning and I'm very pleased with it.))