The sun is warm and the breeze on Akashi’s yard is wonderful at this time of year, so it only made sense to celebrate the birthday party here. The mansion is also the only place that can host that many people without having to move furniture around and put sleeping bags on the floor, which makes Kagami extremely happy at this age.
Aomine Daiju, the oldest of the Miracles’ kids, is turning 14 today, and looks so similar to his father Kagami has to remind himself he can’t get into fists fights with teenagers anymore, not even when his nephew is the living image of Aomine at his age, at least according to the Miracles and the photos he has seen over the years. Besides, the kid is playing cards with his own oldest son –Hikari– who smiles so wide he can’t even imagine interrupting.
“The resemblance is amazing, isn’t it?”, he hears Akashi’s voice from behind him. “The other day we had lunch together, and when he arrived to the restaurant, I could have sworn it was Daiki”.
“It’s disturbing”, he answers. “That’s what it is”.
“I will have to ask you not to beat my nephew today, Taiga. It’s his birthday, and it would also make my son cry”.
“He’s two. He won’t remember”.
“At least, do it for Seiki. You won’t make her cry because of her favorite cousin”.
Midorima Seiki is currently jumping towards Daiju with all the strength a tiny four-year-old can possibly have, hanging from his neck. Green eyes shine with a mischievousness that can only come from Takao, as she swings, making the oldest fight for air, while Kichirou, her twin, laughs.
“Seiki”, Kagami hears Midorima say with a severe tone, and it only takes that to make the little girl let go from the powerful grasp she had at her cousin. Her brother automatically giggles and runs off.
Midorima and Takao run a tight ship, he has noticed, even when the twins are spoiled rotten, they never seem to need to be told ‘stop’ or ‘no’ more than once.
Next to the pool, Rei and Tetsuya talk. Rei is the third oldest of the miracles, the second son of Aomine and Kise, a moody 13 year-old who keeps mostly to himself, which Kuroko has taken as a personal mission to include in every family event, even if it means to sit there on their own, with Kou —their youngest— running around them.
Sitting on the grass is Murasakibara, who has Keiko on his lap, and Kise, who holds the two-year-old Akashi Seiji in his arms, pressing his cheek against his soft hair.
Aomine, who was talking with Takao and Momoi about the new team he’s coaching, catches Kichirou mid-jump without even looking.
“Bet you were like this”, he chuckles, moving the boy around.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t nothing like the twins”.
“No, you were infinitely worse”, Midorima interrumps.
“Your literal parents, as it should be perfectly obvious”.
The thing Kagami never understood, or at least he didn’t for years until it finally hit, was how all these people are even friends. Most of the time, they pretend to not like each other all that much, but when something happens they become an united front, a singular army, seven beating hearts in absolute sync. What it was with basketball back in the day, now it’s with the children; they pass them around, feed and change diapers of kids that aren’t technically theirs but feel like they are.
It takes a village, Kagami thinks.
