Kise swans in a few minutes late fo

Kise swans in a few minutes late for her interview in between jobs and is impossibly, improbably, even prettier in real life: long light hair, curled and styled and highlighted; huge eyes and long lashes; every inch of her height showcased in her fluttery little Teikou skirt and thigh-highs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she says, hands with their deco nails clasped in front of her and bowing profusely, "It's just that since Teikou doesn't need us anymore I'm booked so much now and they just won't let me go! Coach, Sempai, I'm so sorry!"

On the tour of their- if he does say so himself, and hedoes- amazing gym and court, she picks up a basketball in the silence of the few stragglers around to give prospective stars a look at their future teammates, and almost bounces it before she catches herself ruining her nails. She shakes her lovely head ruefully, and says to the coach, "I'd be very pleased to consider Kaijou," meaningless politeness pouring out of her mouth. Her phone is already in her other hand, toys dangling off it so that it looks like her wrist would snap under it's weight.

They nod and stare, because apparently Kise of Teikou is just that intimidating. The rest of the interview passes without incident, but all Kasamatsu can think about is are they really doing this, is it really going to happen? Is this really Teikou's Generation of Miracles, have they all been under a spell for three years of victory and a season of overwhelming invincibility? She's tall, sure, but what else? Is Kaijou really going to bet their hopes on her? She's a girl, Kasamatsu isn't good with girls, any girls, let alone girls like Kise, who do things like apply makeup in class and blink at him like they know everything he doesn't, just girls. Kise wanders back out the gates like a butterfly, and Kaijou folds their hands and prays.

She's a little bit less flashy when school starts and the sighs of a thousand fans follow her around like the wind rustling through trees, and she beelines for the gym, even before the official start of practices, setting off those ripples in her wake.

"I'm the captain," Kasamatsu says, in the absence of anything else to say to a player like her, flicking idly through her phone. If he stares at the hoop just over her shoulder, she's just another uppity junior. "Practices... haven't started yet."

"Oh," she says, and lowers her lashes to look at him. He barely comes to her shoulders, and he can feel her ticking off the boxes: tall, but not tall enough, third-year, last chance to take the school anywhere. Not very good-looking. Won't look her in the eye, though she appreciates that might be hard.

Kasamatsu bristles.

She looks at him, and snaps the phone shut, putting her bag to the side, pulling off her blazer, rolling up her sleeves. "I really shouldn't," she says, pink lips pursed, "But if you'd like to, Sempai, we could play a game? It's been a while for me, though." Kise twinkles a laugh at him, and something like an ice-shard. "I'm wearing shorts, don't worry."

He colours, and snaps, "Fine." Uppity junior, uppity junior.

Kise demolishes him, but she must like what she sees, because she extends a hand to him where he's sprawled on the floor, blown away by her dunk, looking at up her bright head haloed in the lights of the gym. Kise plays like a monster. All the video in the world doesn't do justice to it. Why Kise, Coach had said, stern before the sempai, because Kise was going to be the best.

"It's all right, Sempai," Kise says, smiles. "I just hate losing too.