Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke is not mine.

Iron Heart

Dense

When Fujiyama Hatsumi and Kiyoshi Teppei happen across each other a week later, she was sitting out from the sports activities atop a small grass hill, listlessly observing her peers playing across the open field…

Hatsumi was bored out of her mind.

Ordinarily, she'd be gung-ho with a rare opportunity to slack off and sneak in a few winks during class hours. But P.E, by far, was one of the few joys she derived out of school (despite being a lazy, no-good drifter like her father, whom her dear mother just loved to compare her to).

And here she was, stuck in her skimpy P.E uniform (these shorts be hella short), unable to participate in the present baseball game turned bloodbath in a classic battle that pitted the boys against the girls (the scrimmage between the two sexes was getting a bit out of hand; Hatsumi saw one of the girls stomp up to the antagonistic pitcher and unceremoniously slap him across the face).

Man…she was missing out on all that epic action…all because of that freaking-adorable-idiot, Kiyoshi Teppei.

Ugh.

She groaned discontentedly, hauling her knees to her chest and tucked her head between her sweaty, bare thighs, lamenting her incapacitated self.

The afternoon sun was golden and blazing high in the sky, making the air unbearably hot for the spring season and her low spirits sunk even lower, delving into a yawning chasm of glum frustration.

In this moment, she would gladly welcome something, anything, that could splinter this uninterrupted tedium that encased her like a cocoon of gloom so she could burst forth and—

Tap.

Hatsumi slowly lifted her head at the weak impact and sullenly regarded the wayward baseball that had rolled to her feet.

An absurd amount of bitterness and envy surged through her (why she was so envious of the white, red-stitched ball was something she herself never quite understood).

"You must be having tons of fun, huh?" she huffily indicated to the inanimate object, tone shaded with jealousy. "Getting hit and thrown about and whatnot; you suck."

"Are…are you talking to that baseball? Because we kind of need it back."

Hatsumi closed her eyes and mentally counted to eight (because that was her favorite number) to focus her mind and prepare for the inbound headache that was sure to come (also, to screen the fact that she was completely mortified at being caught red-handed insulting a freaking baseball).

Of all the things that she'd wished to save her from her boredom, the mild voice of her self-proclaimed arch nemesis was not at the top of her "Anything Save Me from This Boredom" list — in fact, it was just below world-wide zombie plague, but before massive alien-robot-ninja invasion and cleaning her room.

Yep.

She'll take on zombies (actually kind of a time-honored fantasy of hers) before Kiyoshi Teppei, who, even just below it, was on a whole' other level of nope beyond the former.

"Are you feeling okay? You look kind of…out of it today, grumpy tree girl."

Her eyes flew open at the ludicrous moniker. "Why are you calling me that?"

"Grumpy tree girl?" he repeated with a look of innocence. "You don't like it? I think it suits you."

"Why would I like it?" She stood up (as craning her neck upward because he was so stupidly tall was painful) and glared at him. "I'm not a tree girl just because I was in a tree when we first met, moron."

"Then you're not denying the grumpy part."

"Oh ho." A muscle in her jaw twitched. "As I thought, you really are more cunning than you like to let on."

"Maybe so," he chuckled with a good-natured smile before bending down to retrieve the abandoned baseball. "Can I come back and stay with you after I return this?"

"Hell no."

"Okay, then I'll be back."

"Screw you!"

Hatsumi flipped him off with her good hand just as he turned around to jog back to the game, hoping he'd take the hint.

.

.

.

.

"I'm back."

She face-palmed.

Let it be known today that Kiyoshi Teppei was a legit schmuck who couldn't take a clear hint when given one, that or he didn't care to take her obvious aversion of him seriously enough. If that was the case, then she'd happily and willingly be the one to confiscate the rose-colored lens of bliss he so loved to don at all times with her (and probably everyone else).

"You sure you're ok?" he asked curiously, wiping the accumulated sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "You look bothered."

Chance to eradicate his naïve ignorance spotted — seized — now initiating verbal attack sequence.

"Since you don't seem to realize that I dislike you," she began ominously, "let me say this: given the choice between your company and a stampeding herd of angry buffalo, I'd take my chances with the latter."

"…Oh."

The genuine sadness that entered in his rich brown eyes and the corresponding expression that followed (which bore an uncanny likeness to a maltreated puppy starved for affection) caused his adorable charm to skyrocket to new levels and she almost regretted her malicious words.

Almost.

"Y-Yeah, the truth hurts, doesn't it?" she managed to say spitefully, resisting the impulse to cuddle him; she still had a prominent soft spot for his brand of dorky cuteness. "So, now that you get it, do leave me alone—"

"You could've left," he suddenly and quickly pointed out. "You could've gone somewhere else instead of staying in the same spot if you didn't want to be in my company. Could it be that you were lonely?"

"Psh." She shrugged and gave him a pitiful look. "For your information, I was simply too lazy to move. And it's hot."

The tall boy didn't seem to hear her as he nodded knowingly to himself. "You were definitely lonely — or bored."

Hatsumi said nothing, because she truthfully had been prepared to bash her noggin against the nearest concrete wall — in a way, he had somewhat relieved this desire, though he was beginning to alter into a new basis to partake in the exquisite head-smashing ritual.

"You know," he mused thoughtfully, taking a seat on her left beside her in the semi-desiccated grass and gazing up at the tranquil cerulean sky. "Even though that wasn't very nice of you to say, I still want to be your friend."

"Hah?" Hatsumi peered at him, skeptical and slightly perturbed. "You want to be friends with someone who doesn't even like you? It's official — you, Kiyoshi Teppei, are a true moron."

He looked at her then, dark eyes intently searching her face. "Why don't you like me?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? You…"

Hatsumi's tetchy explanation petered off unexpectedly as an honest mental reflection of the boy next to her commenced and her jaw fell open, because why didn't she like Kiyoshi Teppei?

He wasn't exactly unpleasant when she conjured memories of their former encounters; on the contrary, he seemed to be a well-meaning person on the road known as Life, paving his way with good intentions and exhibiting a warm, friendly smile to all receptive (even to those not so).

If anything, Kiyoshi Teppei was a) overly jovial, b) friendly to a fault, and c) very, very quirky (but she supposed, she was too, quirky that is).

In closing, Hatsumi rapidly realized that she, without a doubt, had been a magnificent asshole.

Kiyoshi Teppei had never done anything to purposefully cause her grievance.

Kiyoshi Teppei had only been looking out for her, even the first day of their, admittedly rocky, first chance meeting.

Kiyoshi Teppei had simply been reaching out this whole time, ridiculously determined to befriend someone like her.

"Holy crap," she breathed out at long last, pallid ochre eyes wide and locked on him. "I think I may be the actual moron here."

"Is that so?" he hummed agreeably with a smile gentle as a soft breeze. "I'm glad you finally caught on."

"Yeah, I — hey, wait a second!"

And she reached out, promptly smacking him upside the head with her non-injured hand, a deeply affronted sentiment coloring her face.

"Ouch! What in the world was that for?"

"Do you think I'm that dense?! Do you?! Think I didn't catch that indirect insult of yours just now, you sly little—!"

"Wait, wait! I only meant that I was happy you understood that I just wanted to be your friend!"

"…Oh."

"Yeah. So…? What do you say?"

"No, I'm not sorry."

"Fine, then I'm not sorry for naming you grumpy tree girl."

"Why you — you want another slap?!"

Word Count: 1440

A/N: Yes, thirteen year-old Kiyoshi Teppei is a bit feisty. And sneaky. So the two are moving toward the beautiful and wonderful path of friendship. As you can see, it won't change how Hatsumi treats Teppei :P She's a bit of a hypocrite though, calling him names all the time and the moment he possibly insults her, sha-bam!

Again, I just can't thank you all enough for reading this and all the reviews, favorites, and followings. It really brightens my day :D You guys are my virtual sunshine~

On a random side note, why the heck does adding line breaks add to the word count? I mean, they're not even words o_O Either way, I don't bother to count them in to the word count...

Review of your thoughts?