[Kuroko's Basketball] Lily, Come Here! (Kuroko BG)

Once again, this is the brainchild of a certain brain-fried author who loves Kinder chocolate. But how could I possibly control these feelings of affection... Well, liking Xiao Zhe isn't wrong, so this little creation born of my fried brain shouldn't be wrong either... probably... Lily has had a childhood friend ever since she was little. He's handsome and kind, and apart from hardly ever showing any expression, he's practically perfect. Lily knows perfectly well what kind of person she is. She's careless and scatterbrained, and apart from being able to cook and always having a smile on her face, she's pretty much just like a boy. But there are always exceptions. Childhood sweethearts are a good thing, after all, so Lily was packed up and sent across the Pacific from America to Japan. As for why, Lily says she has no idea either. So one night, Lily asked her dear childhood friend: "Do you know why my dad sent me to Japan?" "I'm not your dad, so I don't know." Her childhood friend answered without a trace of expression, making the little girl blush with anger. "You are a bad guy!" Lily puffed out her cheeks, but her childhood friend only held his basketball and gave her a faint, knowing smile. "You'll find out eventually..." Kuroko Tetsuya looked at the ruby necklace around the girl's neck, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. And so... this is a story about how a sweet, airheaded girl gets teased by a sweet, airheaded boy... Not really... P.S. I hope this doesn't go too off the rails... though I can't avoid making it too wish-fulfillment-y... Childhood-friend trope, American trope, and probably lots of other old tropes too, but the author is still trying not to write them badly... "She" is a warm song I really like. Here are the lyrics: She may be the face I can't forget a trace of pleasure I regret may be my treasure or the price I have to pay she may be the song that Solomon sings may be the chill that autumn brings may be a hundred different things within the measure of the day. she may be the beauty or the beast may be the famine or the feast may turn each day into heaven or a hell she may be the mirror of my dream a smile reflected in a stream she may not be what she may seem inside her shell she who always seems so happy and proud whose eyes can be so private and so proud no one's allowed to see them when they cry she may be the love that can and hope to last may come to me from shadows of the past that I remember till the day I die she may be the reason I survive the why and wherefore I'm alive the one I'll care for through the rough and rainy years me, I'll take her laughter and her tears and make them all my souvenirs for where she goes, I have to be the meaning of my life is she she she