Kuroko no Basuke/黒子のバスケ Murasaki-bork,bork,bork!

A/N: This piece is dedicated to Book (aka bkwrmnlvnit), for taking a chance and trying out a new anime based solely on my recommendation.

This story takes place after Partners is complete and after chapter 5 of Priorities.

* * *

It had only been three days since Murasakibara Atushi and Himuro Tatsuya arrived in New York City, and in those three days, Murasakibara had barely left the couch in the Midorima apartment. He'd get up to use the bathroom or raid the refrigerator, but mostly, he was so lazy that he forced Himuro to wait upon his every indulgence, and Takao had to move around him constantly.

So, when Takao asked Murasakibara if he would join them on a shopping trip, he stared at the pint-size Point Guard with a look of such utter confusion that Takao repeated the question, wondering if he'd lapsed into English the first time around.

"No, I heard you the first time, I just can't understand why you'd think I'd want to go shopping with the three of you. I have jetlag, so I'll stay here and nap with the cat. Have a good time without me," the giant man said, and dipped his huge hand into the bag of chips resting on his chest for another bite.

"Oh, because I was really hoping you'd help me pick a new wok; there's so many choices. I never know what's good quality and, well…," Takao explained, but trailed off when he realized Murasakibara wasn't pay attention.

_Walking around a store – a store with no food – that's just a waste of time_, he thought, and went back to watching a rerun of Bitchin' Kitchen. The woman's accent made the show impossible for him to follow what she said, but he understood cooking even better than he understands basketball. He turned up the volume so as to discourage further discussion about him leaving the couch.

"Kazu, which store do you plan on going to today?" Midorima asked.

"The Ikea in Brooklyn."

"That's the store with the Swedish restaurant, isn't it?" Midorima prompted.

Murasakibara's eyes widen just a little. He thumbed the volume switch on the remote, bringing the sound of the harsh American accent down.

"Oh, I've heard of them. They have those meatballs, right?" Himuro asked. "Can we have lunch while we're there?"

"Sure, my treat," Midorima offered and went to the closet. He pulled out his street shoes and slipped into them as Takao gathered his shopping list and Himuro hurried after them.

Murasakibara heaved his large frame off the couch and followed them into the hall.

* * *

They ate lunch first, ordering plates of meatballs, sparkling lingon berry drinks, and princess cream cakes for dessert. Murasakibara got the recipe for the chocolate mousse from one of the chef's before he left and he had an almost spring in his step as they began their trek through the display area of the warehouse.

After a few minutes he began slouching, like a bored, petulant child, which fit perfectly given the fact that he was wearing a red Kuma shirt and a pair of unbuttoned overalls.

"Here," Himuro said. He'd bought a variety of snacks back at the cafeteria, and handed Murasakibara a Daim bar. He knew his friend far too well to be unprepared.

_Milk chocolate with a crunchy almond caramel center,_ he read off the label. _Oh well, I can make it a little further_. He unwrapped the chocolate, and three bites later he was bored again.

Once they found the shopping section, Takao filled the cart with the things he actually planned on buying while Himuro kept returning things that Murasakibara would pick up, inspect, and then leave somewhere else on the shelf, too lazy to remember where it came from, or even to care.

Takao found one of those silly paper chef's hats and, while half climbing up a display, managed to pop the thing on top of Murasakibara's head.

"Bork, bork, bork!" he tittered.

Murasakibara scowled for a moment, then laughed.

"Bjork, Bjork, Bjork!" he echoed, picking up a nearby frying pan and swinging it around in a passable imitation of the Muppet.

"Bjork is a singer," Himuro whispered into his ear, "'Bork' is a line from the Swedish Chef."

Murasakibara flushed from his neck to the top of his head.

* * *

In the kitchen gadget section, however, Murasakibara paid attention. His knives hadn't made the trip. They were not the kind of things allowed in suitcases, or in packages mailed internationally, so he'd planned on buying a new set before school started.

He picked up the chef's knife and balanced it, poised as if he were about to cut. It felt strangely right in his hand, which was a first.

_Knives are always too small for me… I wonder if…_, he thought, and picked up the meat cleaver. He tested that, and then the 10-inch utility knife.

"How much is $17.99 in real money, Midochin?"

"Kazu?" the Shooting Guard passed the question along to someone more competent to answer.

"Hm, well, if we round it up to $20 after tax…," Takao waved his finger in the air as he did the simple math problem. "It's about ¥2,040, give or take."

"For every $20 dollars," Murasakibara began adding the numbers up in his head. He had to replace his knives before school started, or he'd be laughed out of class.

_Chef's, meat cleaver, pairing, utility, vegetable, and fillet. I can't afford them all today, but if I tell Akichin how much I need…_

Midorima and Takao exchanged silent gestures: some pointing, some nodding, and an occasional shrug and then finally came to an equally quiet consensus. Takao picked up one of each of the specialty knives and added them to his cart full of goodies. Murasakibara just stood there, unable to process what was going on.

"As a present, from us, to help you begin the school year right," Midorima said, patting the confused young man on the shoulder.

Himuro lightly kicked Murasakibara in the back of the leg.

"This is when you say thank you," he laughed.

"Now, Murasakibara-kun," Takao said. "How about you help me pick out a wok?"


End file.

Kuroko no Basuke/黒子のバスケ, Friendship, Humor