Thank you to: otps-a-plenty, Calico Neko, Booklover2526, MintLeafeon, wings of Galileo, AspergianStoryteller, flakeshake07, Sakihinata, YamiAkane97, saizen24, BlackAndWhiteRoseWolf, sparklybutterfly42, bob, greenwings33, ruda102, EmD23, Rangerapprentice, DarkIceAngelFlare, Faia Sakura, AngelDemonSakura, and jasdevi's secret sissy for reviewing!

And also thank you to those who reviewed chapter 9 (I forgot to post them last chapter): weols, Usagi323, Honeydee, YamiAkane97, Mich95, revenanttrickster, Fumus000, Rangerapprentice, sparklybutterfly42, chunminie, BlackAndWhiteRoseWolf, KitsuneNaru, Sakihinata, mirai aria, Azrik, maybe143, Calico Neko, FantasyFreakLover, flakeshake07, and one Guest

(Final chapter)

Kuroko was released from the hospital two days later, under the condition that he not return to basketball camp, and that he'd be supervised throughout his recovery.

It turned out that he tried to pull a fast one on everyone and attempted to return home to an empty apartment. It was a good thing Aomine went with him to make sure he got settled in at home alright.

"Tetsu . . . where are your parents?"

Kuroko gave him a deadpan look. "Probably working."

"You said they'd be home."

"They will be." Kuroko lowered his voice. "Eventually."

"Tetsu!"

Kuroko gave a small shrug.

"You little sneak," muttered Aomine. "You realize this means I'm not leaving."

"You promised Momoi-san you would return to training camp," said Kuroko.

"I lied. Get used to it." Aomine swung Kuroko's bag, which he'd been carrying for him. "Where's your room again."

"You can just leave it here."

"Like I would." Aomine headed into the hall and started opening doors, looking for the right room. He hadn't been to Kuroko's house too many times. He'd never actually been in Kuroko's room. He'd just seen him exit it once. Their friendship had always revolved around basketball and pretty much basketball alone. Come to think of it, of the two of them, Kuroko was the only one who'd made an effort to get to know what Aomine's other hobbies were, and try to participate in them. They'd gone out catching cicadas and crayfish numerous times in middle school . . . but aside from basketball, Aomine couldn't think of anything that Kuroko liked to do, and had never even been in his room.

He still knew it when he found it. It was the second door he tried, and the first one that wasn't a storage closet. There was no mistaking it when he found it. He belatedly remembered that Kuroko's other major hobby was reading like a fiend when he saw that one of the walls of Kuroko's room was covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. And on those bookshelves were hundreds of pocketbook novels. There wasn't much space left for new ones. Nearby was his desk, and beside that, his bed. Photographs were spread across the wall over his desk and bed, secured with tape. Aomine walked toward them for a closer look, dropping Kuroko's bag on his desk as he went.

He recognized some of the photographs from their Teiko days. Back before, when everything was still alright between all of them. Their team picture from their second year was there. (But not their third year.) And there were numerous shots of single players or a couple of them together, playing basketball, or hanging out together around school during some down time. Like there was one in the music room, of Midorima playing the piano. And one of Murasakibara and Kise in their culture festival costumes, Kise looking like a French aristocrat, and Murasakibara in a long, ballgown style dress, looking absolutely ridiculous. There was even one of Nijimura looking unamused and grabbing a panicking Haizaki by the back of his shirt, and getting ready to drag him off to practice.

Good memories.

But there were also a lot of pictures without them in. Pictures of Seirin, Aomine saw, and couldn't help feeling jealous at how some of the newer ones were given positions of honor, or were taped up so that they covered the corners or edges of the older pictures. There was a very large picture of Kagami hanging from a basketball hoop like a monkey, clearly having just finished a dunk. There were lots of team shots. And more pictures of Kagami. And pictures of different Seirin members with a puppy. And pictures of that same puppy by itself. Lots and lots of pictures of that puppy.

The pictures of the Generation of Miracles had all stopped at the middle of last year. Well, obviously. But it still kind of stung.

Aomine looked around the room, tearing his eyes away from the pictures and took in some other details. Like Kuroko's baby blue bedspread. And the doggie bed on the floor right beside his bed. Then some other random things, like a small bonsai on his desk, next to a framed photograph that had fallen over. There was a basketball next to some sports equipment neatly stacked in one corner, next to an old satchel stuffed with cans of spray paint, for some odd reason.

"Well . . . your room's a lot cleaner than mine," said Aomine at last.

"Yes," agreed Kuroko.

"You don't have to agree so quickly! Besides you haven't seen my room in like . . . a year." Aomine wanted to bite his tongue. Somehow, everything kept coming back to that gap in their friendship.

"Some things never change," said Kuroko, not seeming to notice Aomine's internal conflict. His steps were slower as he sank into his desk chair. Then he frowned. "My tree."

"What?"

"Needs water." Kuroko picked up the bonsai off his desk. "Please excuse me a moment."

Aomine watched him go, then made his way to the desk and lifted the picture frame that had been lying face down. He frowned at the photograph in the frame. In it, there were two boys. One was clearly a much younger Kuroko, in elementary school. The other was a boy Aomine had never seen. He had one arm around Kuroko and was holding a basketball in the other. Both looked very happy. They were giving real smiles, not just smiles for the camera.

Aomine looked toward the hallway but there was no sign of Kuroko returning, so he hastily turned the frame face down and took off the back. "Shige and Kuroko-kun, end of 5th grade" was written in neat handwriting in one corner. Someone else had written on the back of the photograph too, in a much sloppier, more childish hand. "Best Friends Means Friends Forever!"

"I didn't realize there was anything written on the back of that."

"Waaaah!" Aomine jumped a foot in the air and dropped the frame, photo and all. He cringed at the sound of breaking glass. "Shit . . . sorry, Tetsu."

"It's fine." Kuroko knelt down to pick the broken frame up. He studied the damage for several seconds, then realized that the outer edges of the frame had snapped too, effectively ruining it. Without so much as batting an eye, he removed the picture from the frame and tossed the broken frame into the waste basket beside his desk.

"I'm sorry," said Aomine again.

"It's alright," said Kuroko, setting the picture down on his desk, face down. "I learned something that's worth more than a picture frame. So, thank you."

"Who is that?" asked Aomine.

"Ogiwara-kun. We were friends in elementary school."

"What happened?"

Kuroko looked at him blankly. "Why do you think something happened?"

"Because the other night, when you were delirious, you were saying his name and apologizing to him," said Aomine.

"So that's how you knew his name." Kuroko had the look on his face like he wanted to change the subject. But there was something else in his expression that was familiar. Even if this was upsetting him, Aomine couldn't let this rest until he figured out what that familiar something was.

"What happened between you guys, Tetsu? You looked like you were good friends."

"We were. Then I made some mistakes. And now, we're not."

"What could you have done that was so horrible?" demanded Aomine. "I know you. I don't believe that it was all your fault."

Kuroko looked away.

"Tetsu. Look at me. I'm not letting you get out of this conversation this time," said Aomine. "Tell me what happened."

"This is a personal matter, Aomine-kun. Please leave it," said Kuroko.

"I can't. Because –" and then Aomine realized why. Because he'd just recognized what that sad something else in Kuroko's expression was – the thing that he'd thought looked familiar. It was familiar because Aomine had been seeing it whenever he looked at his own reflection lately. It was raw longing for a friend that he'd driven away. He needed to know what had happened between Kuroko and his childhood friend, because if there were parallels between that situation and the one Aomine was in, then he needed to know. If there was a reason Kuroko and Ogiwara hadn't been able to fix their broken friendship, then the same reason might cause Aomine to fail in his attempts to fix his and Kuroko's friendship. He couldn't let that happen.

"I don't know why it's important to you," said Kuroko, reading Aomine's desperation. "But since it is . . . I made a promise to Ogiwara-kun, and I broke it. And I did something else that hurt him, very much. I didn't mean to. But that doesn't excuse me. I don't want to talk about what I did. But we haven't spoken since."

Aomine stared. He had a sickening feeling that he should know something more about this, but for the life of him, couldn't remember. "If . . . maybe if you tried talking to him . . ."

That was working for Aomine so far. He thought that he'd made some headway fixing his friendship with Kuroko and the rest of the Generation of Miracles."

"I can't."

Aomine smiled, to try to give Kuroko courage. "You can. If you're scared, you –"

"I cannot talk to him. I have no way to contact him," said Kuroko. "He transferred to another school and he changed his cell phone number."

Aomine stared. Something hot and dangerous started swelling in his chest until it burst out.

"What a dick!" he shouted.

Kuroko jumped, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He gave Aomine a bewildered look.

"You've been feeling guilty how long because he burned the bridges between you two? No! The guy's a dick! I don't know what you did, or what you think you did, but I don't care! I know you! Whatever it was, it wasn't anything so bad that he should have just . . . abandoned your friendship! And any chance of making things right and being friends again!" shouted Aomine. "Friends don't do that to each other!"

"You don't know what I did."

"I know you! If you don't want to tell me whatever it was, fine. But I'm never going to believe you of all people could do something unforgivable," said Aomine flatly. "I. Know. You."

Kuroko looked down at the face down photograph and traced over the sloppy writing on the back with one finger. "It's not like I have no hope that he might change his mind. He, at least can get in contact with me if he ever needs or wants to."

"If he ever comes crawling back, you should punch him in the face!"

"I'd never do that."

"Because you're a fucking saint," Aomine growled. "He deserves that."

Hell, I deserve that, Aomine added silently. But he made the mistake of thinking that while looking Kuroko in the eyes. And Kuroko got that look on his face that he always got when their connection was at its strongest, and it was like he knew exactly what Aomine was thinking. On the basketball court it had always seemed like a blessing. Now it seemed far too unnerving. Or so Aomine thought until he heard Kuroko's next words.

"I'd rather just pick up where we left off."

And Aomine knew Kuroko wasn't just talking about Ogiwara anymore.

But the moment was kind of ruined when Kuroko suddenly swayed, grabbing onto his desk chair for balance.

"I'm an idiot," Aomine realized, grabbing him to make doubly sure he wouldn't fall. "You're supposed to be resting. Go lay down."

"Yes," Kuroko agreed and let Aomine help him to his bed.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you up when it's time for your medicine."

"You don't have to stay," said Kuroko.

"Yeah, well I want to stay."

"I'm fine here alone. My parents will be home shortly after dinner."

"Tetsu," Aomine said, "I'm staying. And that's all there is to it."

Aomine was true to his word. He stayed. Not just until Kuroko's parents got home. That wasn't the only type of staying he'd meant.

If he thought it was naïve for Kuroko to want to pick up where they'd left off, he didn't say anything. Because really, that's what he'd wanted too. And even if they couldn't quite manage to do that, the fact that Kuroko even wanted to gave Aomine the assurance he needed that someday they would get back to being the kind of friends they'd once been.

For a long time, things were different. Not necessarily in a bad way. The Generation of Miracles, no longer all standing on the same court together, had changed their dynamics. They were rivals now, as well as friends. And honestly, in a lot of ways, they were better for each other, being rivals and friends, than being teammates and friends. That rivalry rubbed away the complacency that had tarnished their friendship in the first place, when their team grew too powerful to have anything left to strive for. And the knowledge that they now had to strive to get back what they'd lost kept Aomine, at least, more humble, as well as the others who'd known how close they'd come to almost losing it for good. If that had happened, there would have been no filling the hollow spaces in their souls, and they knew it.

But gradually, over time, the friendship between Aomine and Kuroko went back to the way it used to be. He wasn't quite sure how long it took, or when it happened. But one day, on a streetball court, not too far in the future from the day his eyes had been opened, as he stood waiting for the rest of the Generation of Miracles and the friends they'd made from their high schools to finish picking lots for streetball teams, Kuroko held up a strip of paper with blue on the end, same as the color Aomine had drawn. Then he gave Aomine one of those smiles where he only used his eyes, and Aomine knew they were finally back to where he wanted them to be.

The end

Thanks for reading! If you liked this fic, please check out my other Kuroko no Basuke fics too! (I recommend 'How Does It Feel?' if you like hurt!Kuroko, or 'A Different Side Of Me' if you like friendship and oneshots)

And as always, please review!