“Midorimacchi, you weren’t even listening,” says Kise, arms dropping down to his side and sighing against the lockers. “You didn’t even see my imitation of Aominecchi when he got jumped in laser tag.”
“Not now, Kise,” says Midorima, squinting intensely at his flip phone. “I have to forward this email from Kuroko to sixteen different people within seven minutes or else my luck will plummet.”















