Notes: I'm really excited for this and equally very nervous! This fic is going to be a lot longer than I originally planned. I've got the next two chapters written, and I'll hopefully stick to updating every Wednesday until this is complete. Please enjoy!

The title is from "Bittersweet" by Ellie Goulding.

Warnings: vulgar language and occasional violence (courteous of Haizaki), probable butchering of canon, lots of angst, and so much fluff later on you'll probably miss the angst

Pairing: Nijimura/Haizaki/Kise - meaning this is a poly ship, not a love triangle. Haizaki will end up with both Nijimura and Kise, and Nijimura and Kise will end up together, and this is non-negotiable. If that's not your thing, I completely understand and don't really mind if you hit that back button. You do you, boo boo.

Edit: To be clear, the pairing is Nijimura/Kise/teenage!Haizaki. Adult/Time Traveler!Haizaki will NOT partake in ANY sort of romance with teenage!Nijimura or Kise. The only relationships Adult!Haizaki will have with anyone in this fic are entirely platonic! I do NOT support adult/child relationships, fictional or otherwise! Thank you for your understanding.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket.

I. May 22, 2012 - Tuesday

"Shougo, wake up!" The familiar nagging voice of his mother travels from downstairs. "You're going to be late!"

Shougo instinctively grimaces and shouts back irritably, "I'm up already!"

She huffs something back, but he blocks her out and blearily opens his eyes. His room is as messy as ever. He licks his dry lips and sits up, throwing the covers aside.

He shuffles down the hall and to the bathroom on auto-pilot, entirely too tired to think about anything other than taking a piss and brushing his teeth. The former done, he moves over to the counter and grabs his toothbrush. Lathering it with a generous glob, he begins the routine brushing and glances idly at his reflection in the mirror as he does so.

He promptly chokes on his own spit. "What the fuck?" He manages, and the face staring back at him looks as disbelieving and confused as he sounds. Only, that face belongs to a little kid, not a fucking twenty-two year old.

He blinks a few times, thinking maybe he's sleepwalking or something, and then, brush still in his mouth, he pokes and prods none too gently at his face and hair. He even tries a good slap, which leaves a red mark, but it's no good. Shougo's still gawking at a baby-faced teenager.

"What the fuck," he says again, but it in no way encompasses the sheer fuckery of what is going on right now.

Belatedly, he glances down at his body and lifts up his shirt. His rippling muscles are gone, as are the various scars he's accumulated from fights over the years. His skin is entirely free of any ink, and since he knows he got his first tattoo in high school, this must be back when he was in middle school.

In a daze, he returns to his room and actually takes it in this time - the familiar-unfamiliar clothes, the dirty sneakers, the old game consoles. It's like stepping back in time- and then Shougo snorts, because no shit, he's fucking gone back in time.

Running a hand through his hair, he frowns and thinks, more seriously, 'I'm a time traveler.' What is he supposed to do with that?

"I'm leaving for work! Make sure you grab your lunch before you leave! Don't cause any trouble, Shougo!" His mom yells tiredly, thoroughly breaking him from his musings.

"Yeah, all right! You'd better come back safe, you old hag!" He finds himself hollering back, the image of his mother collapsing from overwork forever ingrained in his mind.

It happened during his second year of high school, and it's what made him cut back on his fooling around all the time and decide to find a part time job. He got fired a lot in the beginning for running his mouth and starting fights, but he eventually got the hang of it. He had to curb his violent tendencies and revert his hair back to its original fluffy, gray, but he kept his job. The extra money put less strain on his mom, so it had been worth it. He'll never understand her, but he does love the old lady.

That being said, he doesn't plan to let her collapse even once if this time travel thing is legit.

He hears her laugh. "Love you, too!" Then, the door shuts audibly behind her, and he rolls his eyes. That woman does whatever she wants. Drives him nuts.

Now that his temporary distraction is gone, however, he has to- deal with this. Somehow. Curiously, he peeks inside his closet and is not particularly surprised by the white and blue uniform that greets him.

"Teiko, huh?" He mutters, eyeing the unassuming clothing with no small amount of bitterness.

Shougo had thought he was over this, by now, but maybe there's a reason he's a pipsqueak again. There's probably no other time in his life that had affected him so significantly. High school had been a wake-up call, sure, and in some ways, it had brought him closure. His first year, he'd finally been bested by Ryouta, and he'd been privy to Daiki's right hook. (He'll never admit to being relieved someone had stopped him from doing something stupid.)

There had also been Seirin's comeback win against Rakuzan, which had even inspired something within him. However, over the next two years, he'd given up basketball for work and had only occasionally heard about the games between the Miracles. Basketball and high school - it had all come to a rather anticlimactic end for Haizaki Shougo.

He barks a laugh. "What am I, an old geezer?" Because those thoughts had been tinged with a regret Shougo hadn't even known he'd felt.

Sure, junior high had been interesting. The Miracles had all been little babies, only just growing into their potential, but Shougo had been there from the beginning, too. Basketball had just kind of happened to him. He fell into it, like he fell into video games, and he stuck with it because he was good at it. Even so, he didn't love basketball; he wasn't Tetsuya or Daiki. But he did like it, and that, he thinks, is more than enough. Without fail, Nijimura found him and dragged him back and made it enough. But...

He'd been there from the start, and he'd been good - but not good enough, apparently. Ryouta came in like a whirlwind in their second year, and Shougo had been promptly booted out, his spot handed over to the rising star without hesitation. He'd been bitter and angry and hurt, and maybe after all these years he can understand Seijuro's explanation. Might even believe it. But at the time he'd been nursing a grudge, licking his wounds, and when even Nijimura hadn't spared him another glance after that? He'd become a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the tiniest upset.

He feels tears gathering in his eyes, and he wipes them away disgustedly. "Fuck," he grunts, because Shougo sucks at lying, especially to himself. He knows exactly why this stupidly impossible thing has landed him in the worst and best time of his life, and with a sinking feeling, he's becoming more and more sure of what he's supposed to do.

"You want me to fix this clusterfuck?" He grumbles to no one in particular. He's watched enough time travel movies to know that, usually, this kind of thing comes down to 'fixing' something - preventing a death, getting the girl, doing that thing you always regretted not doing.

And for Shougo, that had been being faded out of everything he'd ever felt was of any import - basketball, friendships with the Miracles and Nijimura, his entire academic life. For all his blustering, he'd wanted to be included, too, and damn if he isn't blushing at the thought.

He gives the uniform one last glance, and then he resolutely shuts the door. There's no way in hell he's going back right now.

Since his brother always had the tendency to head to school at ungodly hours of the morning, he knows the house is empty. A good thing, too, because Shion wouldn't hesitate to rat him out for skipping, and he doesn't want to deal with a lecture from his mom.

He takes a shower, using up all the hot water and staying in long enough that his hands become pruney, but when he emerges, he feels a little more like himself. He wears his cockiness like a mask, yeah, but after all this time, it's more like putting on a comfy blanket rather than a brittle sheet. He smirks, and it feels like it belongs on his face.

He spares a moment to towel off his hair, and then he throws on a relatively clean t-shirt and some shorts. Making sure to grab his wallet, phone, and keys, he toes on his shoes and then heads out, locking the door behind him.

He walks around aimlessly for a while, idly taking stock of the buildings and shops that he vaguely recalls have either closed down or been replaced. Although some of the old advertisements are jarring, the people haven't changed a bit, still rushing around busily, like little worker bees. He would have been one of them had he not inexplicably woken up ten years in the past. As it is, he doesn't have a destination in mind and only occasionally has to duck around the businesses he knows would report him for ditching.

Around lunchtime, he grabs a bite to eat at a Maji Burger, and it's only then that he thinks to check his phone. He has five messages and one missed call, all of them from the same glowing name: Nijimura.

Shougo feels a foreign thrill tun through him before he ruthlessly squashes it and reminds himself that here, in this time, this is normal. Nijimura had likely noticed his absence from morning practice, which would explain the two threatening messages from a few hours ago. The next one demands why he hasn't shown up at school at all, and Shougo figures Nijimura must have come looking for him in his classroom. The last two are more threats, promising punishment if Shougo doesn't show up to afternoon practice.

He smiles a little, unbidden, and just to be a little shit, he sends back that he doesn't feel like going. Then, he tucks his phone back in his pocket and proceeds to slurp the last of his chocolate shake. He burps loudly, and an old lady gives him a disapproving sniff. He flips her off, and then he's back on the streets.

Somehow, rather than any of his old haunts, his wandering feet take him to an empty basketball court. A lone ball sits in the corner, and really, is he even surprised by his luck at this point? He accepts whatever force led him here, gives in and goes with it because- suddenly he really wants to play basketball.

He grabs the ball and dribbles it, slowly and almost hesitantly at first, but soon, he's moving all over the court, dodging around phantom opponents and making game-winning shots like he was born to play. Maybe he was. He musters up an old memory of a move he'd stolen once upon a time, and it comes back easily. His body molds itself into the image in his mind, and he makes the impossible throw. It swishes as it sails through the net, and Shougo whoops, delighted.

He spends the next few hours attempting to steal moves from the players in his memories, pushing his body to its limit and beyond and not caring in the slightest. He feels lighter than air, unburdened, and he can't remember when last he felt anything similar. For the first time in forever, Shougo laughs unabashedly and freely, allows himself to do so, and he can finally understand why Tetsu always waxed poetic about this sport.

Eventually, however, the high fades, and the fatigue sets in, the punishing reckless playing of his finally taking its toll. He sinks to the ground, panting hard, and he listlessly rolls over onto his back. His whole body aches, and he's sweating buckets. But. As he stares up at the clear blue sky, he realizes the peace he'd found while playing hasn't gone away, and he suspects it won't. This, too, was something he'd been denying, so much that he'd fallen for it himself.

He loves basketball. He, Haizaki Shougo, fucking loves basketball. That's why he felt like a piece of him was missing after he quit, why his hands always itched to do- something. It's why he was so upset about being replaced, and it's why he tried so desperately to prove he shouldn't have been.

"Damn it," he says under his breath, tears streaming down his face without his permission. "Damn it!" He mutters again, with more force. He really is an idiot. He almost wants Daiki to show up and punch him again, stop him from doing something stupid.

"So you skipped practice to play basketball by yourself?" A bemused voice jerks him out of his reverie.

He sits up, turns away, and scrubs at his face hurriedly. With more irritation than he feels, he retorts, "The hell's it to you?"

There's a beat of silence, and then-

A burst of pain in his head. He clutches it instinctively and hastily moves onto his feet and out of the strike zone. "Oww! Fuck!" He glares at the perpetrator. "Why?!"

Nijimura regards him irritably. "I told you to come to practice, didn't I?" Shougo looks away with a huff, and Nijimura crosses his arms. "So? What's the excuse this time? Got a cold for the third time this month? Or maybe you got lost on the road of life?"

Shougo snorts. Still rubbing the sore spot, he says scornfully, "I traveled back in time and didn't want to see you dipshits again."

Nijimura punches him. "Fuck- stop! What's your problem?!"

Even as he's getting bruises, Shougo secretly preens under the attention. He really is fucked up, isn't he? Lapping up the attention of this abusive dickwad like a love-struck school girl.

"You're not even wearing your uniform," Nijimura observes. "You didn't plan on going to school at all today, did you?"

Shougo just barely manages to glean the worry behind the bastard's permanent scowl, likely there because he'd rarely ever skipped full days. This, more than anything, is why he'd gotten so attached. Shougo shifts in place awkwardly. "S'not like anything happened. Just didn't feel like going." He turns around and waves a hand lazily. "See ya."

Before he can make his escape, Nijimura's hand shoots out and grabs his collar in an iron-clad grip. "Oh no. You're going with me even if I have to drag you there."

And that's what he ends up doing, much to Shougo's consternation. He tries to bargain and get Nijimura to let him walk instead, but the other boy says he knows Shougo would just try to slip off the moment he let his guard down. He has to concede the point, and so his old senpai literally drags him all the way to Teiko.

It's not his best moment.

It's only about ten minutes later that he realizes they're headed in the wrong direction. The buildings around him are familiar, so he hadn't thought much about it. But they're not buildings he passes on the way to Teiko. He glances up at Nijimura in confusion. "What are you doing? I thought you were taking me to practice."

Nijimura scoffs. "You'd pass out if you tried to keep up with the first string practice now, idiot."

Okay, while that's a good point - not that he'd admit it - it doesn't answer his question. "So you're taking me home?" Because the only destination awaiting them down this particular path is a string of modest housing, including Shougo's.

"Like I'd leave an exhausted baby first year out on the streets for any unsavory person to find," Nijimura says, and Shougo can hear him rolling his eyes. "As your captain, I've got to look after all of you, even stupid kids who are always looking for trouble."

Shougo scowls, "I can take care of myself!" But inside he is secretly pleased.

Nijimura doesn't bother answering.

Once they arrive, Nijimura unceremoniously dumps him on his own doorstep. Shougo glares at him out of a habit that he'd thought he'd grown out of a long time ago. "You'd better be at practice and school tomorrow," Nijimura commands with all the authority of his position.

Shougo breaks eye contact with a frown, still not entirely sure he's ready to face those fucking Miracles, but he eventually huffs, "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

Nijimura looks at him for a long moment, enough that Shougo begins to fidget under the attention. "See you later, then," he says, and then he darts his hand toward Shougo's head without warning. Shougo instinctively closes his eyes and braces for the impact, but it doesn't come. Nijimura ruffles his hair, smirks at his bewildered expression, and then walks away.

"Bastard!" Shougo recovers enough to yell after him, but there's no heat in it. His chest feels light, and he's got a stupid grin on his face. He fumbles with his key, unlocks the door, and then kicks off his shoes and heads straight for the shower. The light feeling stays with him until his mother comes home and - after realizing he'd skipped - lectures him.

End Notes: Haizaki is my son, and I will protect him. He needs to be showered with love and affection, and if no one else will, then it's gotta be me. Seriously, though, let me know what you think! I adore any and all reviewers, and you just might be the reason I update sooner~! (hint hint wink wink)