Prompt: chapter 189. Because I just had to do this once I'd read it.

At one point, Aomine says to Satsuki, "it's like they are the fated light and shadow."

Seirin has known this for a long time.

They've seen the beginning of it – the very inklings in that freshmen – senpai game, when Kuroko first steps out, and they realize – holy crap, they have a magician on their team – and immediately, instinctively, Kagami takes up the slack and completes Kuroko's move. Like they had planned it a long time ago.

It's in the Kaiou game, though, that the partnership is really born – Kuroko coordinates with the entire team, but there's something special, something more, with Kagami; a wild, untamed, rhythm as they strive and match Kise pace for pace and somehow when they stand side by side it's like it was always meant to be.

Seirin team gets once to see the bare bones of it – in the game against Aomine. Kagami's been restricted to the bench and Aomine is ripping Kuroko apart – and why can't anyone else see why are they only to see Kuroko as he never, ever gives up and he's flayed alive and there's so much pain so much hurt so much raw emotion on his face yet he still struggles to his feet and his former teammate partner friend gleefully smashes him down again and again – and on the bench Kagami's fists have curled and his eyes are hard, so hard yet so soft on Kuroko.

Seirin has seen it a long time ago.

They've seen it the long hours Kuroko spends in the gym, practicing his shooting and Kagami waiting patiently until he's satisfied, more patient than they knew he could be, because Kuroko is never satisified, because Kuroko has promised to make them number one and he has promised it to Kagami.

They've seen it in how Kagami always, always seem to know where Kuroko is – even when no one else is able to tell if he's here.

They've seen it in Kuroko's back to Kagami yet his pass slapping right into Kagami's hands.

They've seen it in Kagami's arm over Kuroko's shoulder when he can barely walk because he's given it, given it all because he can feel how much Kuroko needs to beat his former teammates.

They've seen it in Kuroko's head on Kagami's shoulder on the return bus ride.

They've seen it in the way Kagami once sighed and forlornly pushed half of his lunch towards Kuroko saying if he didn't eat he'd get hungry, but if Kuroko didn't eat he'd probably pass out, because it just wasn't healthy to eat that little.

They've seen it in the way Kuroko can just stare down Kagami – expressionless, not saying a word – until Kagami squirms and just caves in and goes along with whatever Kuroko's asking.

They've seen it in Kagami – blushing and half-yelling because Kagami is nothing if not awkward – but still, stubbornly enduring the teasing, tucking his jacket over Kuroko when he falls asleep in the gym.

They've seen it in Kuroko's smile – the Kagami smile, they call it, because while Kuroko has warmed up to all of them and smiles and laughs with them, the smile that he gives Kagami after a match is blinding.

They've seen it in the forced, tense acceptance that Kagami doles out to Number Two, actually letting the dog be in the same room as him though his face always betrays how far he wishes he could be – and Kuroko's gentle way of coaxing Number Two to the other side of the room.

They've seen it in how when Kuroko steps on the court next to Kagami it's like a picture's been completed, two parts of a jigsaw that have been joined. Something you didn't realize was missing until you saw it complete, because then it never occurred to you that it could have been otherwise.

Seirin has known all along. Seirin has guarded them all along.