He knows the story this book ought to have, but no matter how many times he turns the pages they remain mysteriously blank. It has been at least twenty minutes since he woke in a strange bed, but he has yet to leave it, preoccupied with his book and, to a lesser extent, the slightly unreal sense he gets from his surroundings. Like a dream, or a moment caught longer than usual in suspension.

"Hm."

Kuroko blinks, thumbing the pages again, more for the feel and the slight fan of air their domino-effect results in. Strange and stranger; at least he's read it before already. Still. Underneath him the bed is neither comfortable nor rocky, and while he could swear the last moment he was quite awake, he feels the remnant tug of sleep anyway. Confusing. One hand still pinching the book in its fingers, he uses the other to rub across closed eyes as he sits up. Some people would be alarmed, others frightened. Kuroko finds himself rather another thing entirely.

His stomach makes a plaintive sound.

A vanilla milkshake would be due about now.

Of course the spartan quality of this strange room doesn't give him high hopes...

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, making just the scarcest of sound. It's not that he's trying, just that if he doesn't handle it consciously, that's how he is: subtle. Sometimes to a fault, but usually just as a norm. Tilting his head, first one way then the other, he puts to memory the basics of the unit before standing. This causes the basketball at the foot of his bed to roll off, tapping the floor and rolling until it hits the adjacent wall. Ah.

Unconsciously, he tugs at the wristband from his old friend, thumb hooked on the inside just feeling the tension before the soft snap.

His book. His ball. Himself. The only familiar things.

If it's a dream there is no reason not to explore further; if it isn't a dream he can't find anything out anyway just by staying in here. Besides, he hears activity outside. Who else is here? After picking up the ball, he leaves the room, hesitation not occurring to him. It isn't even accurate to say he's unafraid, but if a feeling doesn't occur to a person, it's less a matter of being or not being. It could still happen. But for the moment Kuroko finds himself to be quite his ordinary, everyday self: calm and eyes open to detail.