Rapid Reunion ;; xcerasum
If Kuroko Tetsuya could sum his high school experience in two words, he would have likened it to a fever dream.
The entire experience had been so otherworldly that he would not have been surprised if he simply dreamed it up. It was not simply that his desires had been reached in those whirlwind years, but that they had been done so perfectly. He had found a man who he could shadow, and who never lost a use for his valuable teammates. Gamesmanship had triumphed over callous victory from his first year, and that meme only seemed to resonate as time went by.
After Seirin's whirlwind first year, they still remained as a potent powerhouse. Their second year had been the most successful year yet, sweeping both the Inter-High Tournament and the Winter Cup, but even then, they had not grown drunk off of their victory high. Such a worldview proved valuable due to the vast exodus of talent that marked his third year at Seirin. The loss of Kyoshi, Hyuuga, and others guaranteed a loss to Kaijou in the finals of the Inter-High, and a shocking semifinal loss to a resurgent Yosen squad in the Winter Cup.
Even with a duo of ignominious defeats marking his passing into college, Kuroko was still happy. Happy that all those that he seemed to meet played with a love for their team, and for basketball in general. His years in high school might have been over in a heartbeat, but they were a wonderful set of years. If this truly was a dream, concocted through a fever or some other thing, he was certain that he did not want to wake up from it.
Whatever the case was, Kuroko had graduated from Seirin with high honours, and a scholarship to yet another college known for its basketball skill. Kuroko had not initially wished to accept it, but relented at the last moment. Basketball in Japan had changed, and it would continue to so long as he remained motivated. No matter where he went, or what he did, he would strive for that common good for as long as there was strength in his body.
These thoughts swam about in his mind, while he did what he did best at this college's introduction: blend in. His 'misdirection' skills were alive and well, allowing him to shift around the tightly packed crowd as if he was some sort of fish. In between his movements, and his tangential absorption of many a student's cacophony, he stopped.
Just a few steps away from him, he swore that he could see her. Before he could even stop himself, he was speaking, uttering a prompt greeting, and hoping that this wonderful woman would notice his plainly-attired self once more.