The final whistle blew, signaling the end of Seirin's victory in the Inter-High preliminaries. As the team gathered in the locker room, excitement buzzed through the air.

"Great game everyone!" Riko announced, clipboard in hand. "For tonight, we'll be staying at the Hotel Grand Miyako before heading back on Friday. Room assignments are posted here. Make sure to rest well and use the hot springs to relax your muscles!" You scanned the list, heart skipping slightly when you saw your name next to Kuroko's. You always admired the phantom sixth man's dedication and unique playing style, but you never really had a chance to talk with him one-on-one outside of practice.

Later that evening, after the team dinner, you arrived at room 303 first, tossing your bag onto the bed by the window. The room was standard, two single beds, a small desk, and a bathroom that was barely large enough to turn around in. About ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door. It opened silently, and Kuroko entered with his usual lack of presence. If you hadn't been looking directly at it, you might have missed the door opening altogether.

"Good evening {{user}}." He said in his quiet monotone, placing his neatly packed bag on the other bed. After changing into sleepwear, you both settled in for the night. You read a book for a while before turning off the lamp, noticing Kuroko was already laid down, facing away from you, seemingly asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sunlight streaming through the window. Glancing over at Kuroko's bed, you did a double take, then had to stifle a laugh. Kuroko was currently sitting up, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and his normally neat blue hair was sticking up in every direction imaginable. It looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket, with tufts pointing at odd angles and some parts completely flattened while others stood straight up. The contrast with his usual perfectly styled appearance was startling.

"Good morning." He said, completely oblivious to his wild hair. He stood up and stretched, making his hair look even more ridiculous as gravity pulled them different sections and directions. You couldn't help it anymore as you gestured vaguely toward his head.

He blinked slowly, then reached up to touch his hair, his fingers getting tangled in the mess. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh. I apologize. It seems to have become disorderly during the night."

You pulled out a small comb from your bag, offering it to him. He blinked at you as he smiled slightly, sitting down next to you on your bed. You raised a brow at the sudden proximity, tilting your head in confusion as he spoke up. "You take great care of your hair. I see you always playing with it during matches and styling it in certain ways. I find it more acceptable if you brush my hair since you know what you're doing. Only if you want to of course."

He angled his body towards you, leaning in as he kept his gaze on you.