"I just want to clarify—Kuroko isn't my boyfriend."
...
"To be honest, my original plan was that once Aomine got defeated, he'd snap out of it and start trusting his teammates again. But the guy's just too strong. Only the Generation of Miracles could take him down. The thing is, except for Kuroko, the rest are lone wolves. Even if they beat him, he'd just think it was because he didn't train hard enough..."
"But Kuroko's different. He's always believed in his teammates and acknowledged their value. That's why I hoped he could beat Aomine—only then would Aomine truly change."
Kota stroked his chin, suddenly enlightened. "So basically, you were using Kuroko? You got close to him just so he'd help knock some sense into Aomine?"
Momoi's face shifted at the first part of Kota's sentence, her expression turning sour. She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but when she heard the second part, she paused, lost for words.
After a moment, she muttered, "You're not totally wrong. At first, I approached Kuroko because I couldn't figure him out. He intrigued me. Only later did I start thinking I could use him."
She pursed her lips.
"You must think I'm a selfish woman."
Kota glanced at her. In his memory, Momoi had always been cheerful and outgoing, but now she looked totally different—sitting there with both hands wrapped around her cup, eyes glassy like she'd just been scolded. Anyone walking in might think he'd just threatened her or something.
"Being selfish isn't bad. I mean, come on, if you're not a little selfish, are you even human?"
Kota picked up the teapot and poured himself another cup of water. Then he continued:
"Besides, I wouldn't even call that selfish. Sure, you used Kuroko, but you think he didn't see through that? He literally built an entire playstyle around not being noticed. You think someone like that's an idiot? If anything, he's probably more eager to save Aomine than you are."
Kota took a sip, savoring it like it was fine tea—even though it was just plain water.
"Forcing people to do stuff they don't want to do, now that's selfish. You and Kuroko are more like... co-conspirators. You both want the same thing."
Momoi's eyes gradually lit up. She knew Kota was trying to comfort her, but she had to admit—he was pretty good at it.
Seeing her mood lighten, Kota put his cup down and asked:
"So if your original plan was to rely on Kuroko, why'd you come to me?"
Momoi gave him a look like duh, and answered matter-of-factly,
"Because you beat Aomine, obviously. Honestly, I didn't think Kuroko could really win. Outside the Generation of Miracles, he was our only shot. Then you showed up out of nowhere."
Kota looked surprised. "We only won because of Kise, though. And it's not like Aomine changed after losing."
Momoi shook her head firmly. "He has changed. After losing to you guys, he's been training seriously every day. And Kise's different now too. That's all thanks to you."
Kota sighed internally.
"So all that talk, and in the end, you were trying to use me all along."
"Well, I don't want to change Aomine. I barely know the guy."
Momoi froze, then suddenly clasped her hands together and pleaded,
"Pretty please? Help me out, will you?"
Kota paused for a second. "Fine, but if I help you, you've gotta return the favor."
Momoi nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! Whatever it is—as long as you beat Aomine."
Kota stood up and started taking off his jacket. Momoi's face instantly went on red alert.
"W-Wait, nothing too crazy, okay?! I'll call the cops!"
Kota blinked, confused. "What are you even talking about? Just go grab me some dinner, your treat. While you're at it, wash my cup and take out the trash."
Then he flopped onto the couch like a grandpa after dinner.
Momoi broke into a cold sweat. She thought... Never mind, let's not go there. As she opened the door to leave, Kota called out,
"Don't forget to close the door! And bring back a bottle of water, I'm parched!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Momoi grumbled.
"This guy… seriously defies all logic."
Back when she said she approached Kuroko because she couldn't see through him—what she didn't say was: I can't see through you either, Kota.
Lying on the couch, Kota let out a chuckle. Beating Touou was essential for Kaijo if they wanted to win nationals. And now? He'd managed to get Momoi to do chores and owe him a favor. Talk about a win-win.
"High schoolers are so easy to mess with. Pure-hearted little fools."
...
"Hello? Momoi? Nah, it's cool. No fights today. Yeah, I'm practicing. Okay, talk later."
Aomine was alone on the court, gripping the ball tightly.
"Kise... Kaijo... Kota..."
...
Meanwhile, at another court, Kagami Taiga was finishing his shooting drills.
"498, 499, 500."
He exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his face.
"Kagami-kun, done already?"
Kuroko appeared out of nowhere, making Kagami jump.
"Kuroko?! When did you even get here—wait, never mind. I'm too tired to ask."
Kagami rubbed his forehead and looked over. "So what's up?"
"I wanted to practice one-on-one with you. But if you're too tired, it's fine."
"Tired? Are you kidding? I'm just getting started!"
...
"Yo, Kota! How's that romantic getaway with Momoi going, huh? Got any spicy gossip? Kidding, kidding! Anyway, I'll treat you to that meal I owe you tomorrow. Later!"
Kise was in the middle of a modeling gig. They called him in last-minute right after training, so now he was sprawled on a couch, bored out of his mind.
"So boring... Nationals, hurry up and start already..."
...
At home, Midorima removed the bandage from his right hand as he prepared for a bath. The radio nearby broadcasted the evening horoscope:
"For Cancer signs, great fortune is headed your way! Don't forget to check the morning horoscopes as well. Wishing you smooth sailing every day..."
"Following fate and armed with every lucky item a Cancer needs, I'm unstoppable. Nationals will be mine."
He took off his glasses and walked into the shower.
...
On the street, a tall figure hugged a mountain of snacks—Murasakibara.
"Ugh, seriously? The new flavor's already sold out? Useless store. Can't even do the basics right."
He munched on various colorful candies, looking like a toddler in a titan's body. The ridiculous contrast made passersby do double takes.
...
In a quiet classroom, a red-haired boy played a game of shogi against himself. The red side was in a checkmate trap. A faint smile crept onto his lips.
From outside the door came a voice: "Akashi! Nebuya and Hayama are fighting again!"
"I'll handle it later."
Akashi glanced at the board one last time, then picked up his jacket and left the room. He didn't care why they were fighting. As long as he was there, it didn't matter.
Because he was Akashi Seijuro. Simple as that.
One week remained until the National Tournament.