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blackshowtime · 7 years

Text

Dreams Made of Milkshakes (18/?)

Words: 4,342

Summary: Turning point.

As Kuroko continues to study for the rest of the day, his mind keeps on straying back towards the message Akashi had sent him. Every fiber of Kuroko’s being wants to deny any truth in that message. Akashi’s claim has to be false, because it’s too ridiculous.

He knows better, though. He should trust Akashi’s words, since he’s not the type to be pulling Kuroko’s leg like this. Although, he does wish that Akashi were just joking. Even now, hours after reading that message, he has a hard time wrapping his head around it.

From the most enjoyable moments to the most nerve-wracking, Mayuzumi has been with him through every dream. And because Mayuzumi had kept it from him, it might mean that Mayuzumi had intentionally trapped him in these dreams. It might mean that Mayuzumi had wanted to put him through dangerous situations. It might mean that Mayuzumi had wanted to keep him asleep for a week, maybe even longer.

He doesn’t want to believe any of those reasons, but he can’t help it. He can hardly even say he knows Mayuzumi.

He focuses on the words in his textbook, getting more distracted the more he thinks about any ill will behind Mayuzumi’s actions. He somewhat convinces himself that none of the reasons could possibly be true. He flips the textbook closed.

After studying his morning and afternoon away, Kuroko finds himself losing steam. He’s memorized too much about science and math and now he’s itching for a break.

Stretching in his seat, he contemplates falling asleep now and confronting Mayuzumi as soon as he can. He’s both somewhat fearful and somewhat determined to hear the truth from the other, to confirm everything once and for all. Still, falling asleep now would do him no good. Not only would he not meet Mayuzumi, but he’d ruin his sleep schedule.

He squeezes his eyes shut as he yawns. No good, he’ll fall asleep at this rate. He’s got to get his blood flowing.

Exiting his room, he tells his parents he’ll be back soon as he grabs his jacket and basketball before heading out the door.

Akashi was already gone when Mayuzumi managed to wake up at some ungodly hour in the morning. His head is throbbing, and he can feel a huge bruise on his forehead forming. There’s no trace of other, and neither his stuff.

He’s half convinced that Akashi had only carried that suitcase for show, and hadn’t actually filled it with any of his belongings. It takes him a moment to reorient himself and ignore the pounding in his head.

The spare key has been left on the coffee table, and the slippers placed back into their proper spot.

Mayuzumi takes a deep breath, placating himself after how angry last night made him.

Let me keep an eye on you, my ass, he thinks. Akashi fucking tricked him. He had planned this sequence of events from the beginning. And now that Mayuzumi thinks about it, Kuroko was probably also planted in his dream last night. After all, Akashi disappeared with Kuroko in hand, so it’s highly unlikely that Kuroko was the real Kuroko.

He stares down the spare key on his coffee table, feeling his temper rise by the second. Fuck Akashi. He snatches the key up, gripping it in his fist tightly while suppressing the urge to chuck it across his entire apartment in anger. Instead, he returns the key back into the drawer of his bedroom, staring at the imprints left from the key on his hand.

He wonders if Akashi will tell Kuroko, and if the brat will do something about it.

He shakes his head, nearly scoffing at himself before immediately regretting it with how dizzy the movement makes him.

Of course Akashi will tell. He’s seen how shitty Mayuzumi treats Kuroko, so why wouldn’t he? It’d be too stupid of a move not to tell.

Of fucking course Akashi had to be meddlesome. Just right when Mayuzumi thought that he could ignore the brat and let the dreams die, Akashi had to shove his nose right into it, throwing everything into disarray. Now the brat is going to want answers, one way or another. He’s persistent enough normally; Mayuzumi doesn’t need him hounding his ass in real life too.

Akashi had better keep his goddamn word, otherwise Mayuzumi will need to deal with two nuisances rather than none.

Mayuzumi had better not see Kuroko tonight.

He collapses onto his bed, holding his head in pain while trying to remember if he has any pain medication stashed somewhere in his apartment.

It’s right around Kuroko’s bedtime, and he’s got school to attend tomorrow. Despite his earlier determination, he’s not so adamant now about confronting Mayuzumi tonight. After turning it over in his head while shooting some hoops, he’s nearly become sick with apprehension. He’s staring at the bottle of sleeping pills, ready to uncap it and pop one into his mouth. One more night of avoiding dreams wouldn’t hurt, right? It’s clear to him that he’s emotionally unstable right now, and for good reason. He hasn’t felt unnerved like this for a long time, where he needs to reassure himself just to move forward and resolve problems.

He breathes in deeply, putting the bottle back into the cabinet and shutting the door so that he can’t chicken out.

Getting ready for bed, he attempts to quell his nerves by focusing on his breathing. He won’t be able to even fall asleep if he can’t calm down, but his hands won’t stop trembling.

It’s no big deal. He has pretty much done this every day for the past few weeks. It’s just Mayuzumi.

He lies down in bed, clenching his hands over the blanket as he tries to breathe evenly.

It takes him awhile to completely calm down, but eventually he finds himself opening his eyes to a clear view of the blue sky atop what appears to be a school rooftop.

His eyes land on the familiar figure of Mayuzumi in the distance towards the railings of the rooftop, facing away from him. He is sure that this is meant to be Rakuzan’s rooftop.

Putting one foot forward, Kuroko halts in place upon seeing that Mayuzumi hasn’t noticed him. He finds himself getting cold feet before he even begins, eyes straying down towards the ground. He spends too long stuck in place like that, doubting his will and decision. He can feel his earlier anxiety arise, locking him in place. Why is he so nervous about clearing this up? It’s not like he’s under the real threat of injury here. Forcing himself out of his wavering confidence, he swallows thickly and directs his gaze towards the other. It takes much too long to tell himself that he can do this, as told by the sweat he feels on his hands when he unclenches them.

He approaches calmly, gathering up courage with each step. Beginning to feel more confident, he calls out the other’s name.

“Mayuzumi-san.”

It comes out weaker than intended, but he doesn’t back down.

Mayuzumi turns to face him, using his back to lean against the railing while regarding Kuroko with an indecipherable look.

Looking at Mayuzumi with a renewed sense of the situation seems to be backfiring for Kuroko right now. He feels like he’s reading too much into Mayuzumi’s expression, and yet at the same time he feels like he can’t discern anything.

Kuroko gulps, finding himself at a loss for words. Everything up until now, every last event, every moment they’ve spent…

Sweat accumulates on Kuroko’s temple. He does not like the way that Mayuzumi stares him down. Or maybe he’s so nervous that he’s misinterpreting the other’s expression.

Mayuzumi regards Kuroko carefully, scrutinizing his every move while trying to school his expression into something lackadaisical.

Kuroko’s usually blank demeanor exudes nervousness now. And that says all that Mayuzumi needs to know.

He’ll start it off by playing it safe.

“I thought you weren’t coming back here.”

It takes Kuroko a moment amidst his agitated state to even begin to comprehend the other, and yet he only feels more lost with the question. Somehow, he manages to not stumble over his words. “What do you mean?”

“Akashi had told me you weren’t, and he usually keeps his word.” Mayuzumi shakes his head, already finding this situation cumbersome and unnecessary. Akashi was supposed to prevent the brat from coming back. He was looking forward to finally never seeing Kuroko again, but apparently Akashi can’t do his job right.

Kuroko just stares, completely bewildered. “I have no idea what you mean.” He thinks about what Mayuzumi revealed, and all Kuroko can pull out from it is that Akashi confronted Mayuzumi, thus leading to Akashi uncovering the truth.

Mayuzumi lets some of the anger from being deceived trickle into his voice, “You know what you’re here for. Get to the point.”

Kuroko nearly flinches, but his rigid form keeps him locked still. Akashi may have uncovered the truth, but it seems that Mayuzumi also knows that he did so.

Kuroko reminds himself that all he seeks are answers. He needs to do this. It’s now or never.

“You know that I know now...about all those dreams that I had—we had,” he trails off after correcting himself, having not prepared his words too well, “did we really experience the same dreams?” He needs to hear it from Mayuzumi himself.

Mayuzumi stares, looking like he couldn't be more bored out of his mind. After a few moments of just staring straight at Kuroko, he settles with, “Yeah.”

The moment he says that, his temple throbs painfully. His jaw tightens in a vain attempt to ease it. He had thought the medication was working, but apparently his dreams just won’t give him a break.

“How—how long exactly have you known?” There has to be a mistake, because Kuroko shouldn’t feel this double-crossed. He’s already had time to digest it. He doesn’t know why he can’t accept it. He had thought that hearing it from Mayuzumi himself would have left him with some finality, but his gut only wrenches more. Mayuzumi can’t possibly—can’t be—the real thing. It’s unthinkable. It’s beyond impossible. Kuroko knows that this has to just be a nightmare, and nothing more.

Mayuzumi continues to look uncaring. He stares at Kuroko, but almost appears to be staring straight through him. He stands there like that for another solid minute, setting Kuroko on edge.

“Why did you keep this from me?” Kuroko prompts further. Normally he can be patient enough and wait as he receives an answer, but it’s almost tortuous for him now.

Mayuzumi’s poker face betrays nothing, and it seems that he can keep this up as long as Kuroko persists.

Kuroko’s confidence falters as the silence continues, suffocating the both of them. Mayuzumi continues to refuse to say anything. Both stand motionless, one waiting for something to occur, the other waiting it out. Kuroko just wants Mayuzumi to make a move, and yet the other continues to endure the heavy silence. An unstoppable force versus an immovable object, caught in a stalemate.

Kuroko can’t recall the last time he’s been this anxious for a reply.

Finally, the other speaks.

“None of that matters,” Mayuzumi dodges the issue, the throbbing in his head now dull and only uncomfortable at most. He turns his head away, seemingly to show how uncaring he is.

Kuroko’s mouth presses into a thin line, trying to stifle the turmoil of feelings that threaten to leak out. His earlier pessimism about Mayuzumi’s behavior resurfaces for the briefest of moments.

This is far from okay. The way Mayuzumi replied to him, it confirms everything. Kuroko feels an indescribable amount of betrayal, anguish, and bitterness all jumbled together, but all he can manage is a weak glare. He wants to say more, no—demand more. Why doesn’t the other answer? How had this happen? Did Mayuzumi plan this all along? Why didn’t Kuroko realize this sooner? Why did everything end up like this? Why, why, why—

He feels trapped, despite being the one trying to trap Mayuzumi.

Kuroko trembles. He inhales, trying to regain his lost ambition. He’d call it a success, but not with the way he grows aggravated.

“What does matter,” Mayuzumi pushes himself off the railing to stand straighter, “is that I would’ve gotten away with lying, had Akashi not revealed it.” His temper rises upon thinking back to Akashi, but he continues to reassure himself that he has this under control. “You weren’t supposed to find out, but it’s whatever.”

So Mayuzumi had never planned to reveal it to Kuroko. And what? Would he have just continued with the lie for forever? “Why then, why didn’t you want me to find out? Was it just so—” he cuts himself off, knowing that he’s getting too swept up in his emotions. Was it so that you could continue laughing at my ignorance?

“Because it would’ve resulted in this.” Mayuzumi gestures with his chin towards Kuroko.

Kuroko doesn’t appear to understand, his confused expression edging more towards a fierce glare each passing second. It’s getting harder to be patient. “What?”

“You. Demanding answers. You. Bothering me and being a persistent little shit. It’s more trouble than it’s worth,” Mayuzumi just about hisses out that last part, his bitter resentment for both the situation and Kuroko rising sharply like a rubber band snapping into place. “You’re more trouble than it’s worth.”

There’s nothing new about Mayuzumi’s opinion about Kuroko, but his words still feel too much like getting splashed with ice water. For as long as Kuroko can remember, he’s always been able to brush off insults directed towards himself like nothing. He can’t remember the last time he’s taken personal offense to being insulted this easily, and if he weren’t so already fed up with the other, he might’ve been able to step away and tell himself that he could be the better person; that he’s just a sleeping pill away from never having to see Mayuzumi again.

But he doesn’t, and he exemplifies exactly what Mayuzumi wanted to avoid. “I just want answers, Mayuzumi-san,” he struggles to keep his voice even, “I won’t leave until you shed some light on this situation between us.”

How presumptuous. “You think I care?” Mayuzumi snaps. “You think I’d be willing enough to answer your stupid questions? Oh, of course. I’d be honored to,” he rolls his eyes. “Even if you had all the patience in the world, you would never get an answer from me. You’re fucking lucky that I even spared some time to talk you like this.” His expression has twisted into a nasty scowl. “I could choose to rain hell down upon you, or I could completely ignore you. But either way, you get nothing from me.”

Kuroko grimaces, having expected an answer like that. Still, it doesn’t make him any less infuriated. Ignoring the tight, nauseating feeling in his chest and anger pooling within his gut, he takes a steady breath to quell the nervousness that builds too quickly for his liking. “Don’t you think,” he nervously wets his lips, and finds that he can’t keep his gaze trained on the other, “don’t you think that you’re being unfair?”

“What, you thought that I was fair from the get-go?” Mayuzumi sneers. At Kuroko’s indignant glare up at him, he continues. “You say that like I owe you something.”

You do, Kuroko wants to scream, until his voice is raw and hurting. “It’s not my fault that I didn’t know better, Mayuzumi-san,” is what he grits out instead. Maybe if the other had fessed up sooner, they wouldn’t have to be in this argument. Maybe they both wouldn’t have had to been in a coma for a week. Maybe they could have even worked together to fix the problem.

“So what? You’re saying it’s my fault?”

“I never said that—”

“You know what? It doesn’t fucking matter,” Mayuzumi interrupts, his headache now more intense than before, “whether it was intentional or not doesn’t change the fact that you’re a pesky little brat who’s been an annoying thorn in my side since day one.” Mayuzumi huffs a sharp laugh, and he steps closer to the other. “You’re the one who came here after me,” he stabs his pointer finger at the other with each emphasized word. “You’re the intruder. You’re the one who encroached on my fucking privacy. I had already been dreaming for a while before you showed your sorry ass here, which means it’s your fault,” his anger rises, and his scowl deepens.

Kuroko looks appalled, so enraged that he’s trembling and fumbling with his words. “How—What—This is not my fault, Mayuzumi-san,” he stops to gather his disorganized thoughts, “you left me in the dark this whole time, and you still don’t care to clue me in, so how could it be my fault? Why are you blaming me for something that you should have told me earlier about?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Mayuzumi clenches his fists and digs his nails into his palm, “I don’t owe you anything,” he presses on, his anger continuing to flare. “You coming here is the last thing I could ever want, and I’ve been trying to drive you out of here since ever since you showed up.” Mayuzumi faintly registers that he’s only spilling half lies through his tirade. Not all of what he’s saying does he fully agree with, but he’s letting his rage do all the work now. The fury is bubbling over, and he can’t find it in himself to stop.

“Sure, I hadn’t known at the start that you happened to be dreaming the same dream as me, but it was easy enough to find out,” he shrugs offhandedly. “I had known that you were always an idiot, but never to this extent of stupidity, where it took Akashi’s guidance in order to make you realize anything. You’re a dumbass. It was so easy playing you for a fool this whole fucking time. And after everything? I now know that all because of a fucking head injury that wasn’t even my fault caused this whole tiresome ordeal. I now know that I went comatose for a whole goddamn week because of you, and I still know you’re an insufferable little piece of shit that I hate,” he bites out, finally finishing his rant. He heaves after exhausting all of his pent up fury that has been building up since the day they met.

Mayuzumi doesn’t know what he expected as a reaction, but he certainly doesn’t expect for Kuroko to punch him across the face.

It’s jarring, to say the least.

Kuroko waits briefly until Mayuzumi shakes off the pain and affixes him with a menacing glare until he speaks, “I only came to get some questions answers, and I thought that you could have been reasonable, but I guess I thought wrong.” His voice wobbles and it frustrates him. He can’t help it. Kuroko is furious, but he can’t help the way that most of that fury has already turned into misery. The beginnings of tears prick at his eyes. He presses his lips into a line, and finally the betrayal and hurt settle in his gut like sediment. “Maybe if you had been a better person, we both could’ve walked away from this,” he gestures with his hands, “we could’ve both been happy if you hadn’t been—”

A jerk. A prick. An asshole. Awful. Despicable. The lowest of the low. The absolute worst.

Mayuzumi knows he’s all of these things, and Kuroko should hate him for everything he’s said and done. But strangely, he doesn’t want to bear the weight of those words coming from Kuroko himself. So he doesn’t let Kuroko finish his sentence, already reaching his hands forward and shoving Kuroko towards the wall, but doesn’t move to pin him in place.

“You just don’t quit, do you?” he snarls. “What does it take for you to give up and leave?”

“I won’t leave,” Kuroko snaps back at him. “Why are you avoiding all my questions? Why is it so hard for you to just answer me?”

Mayuzumi glares unblinkingly at Kuroko, who glares back with a fury that parallels his own.

He hadn’t realized it through his rage, but the stabbing of pain in his head is impossible to ignore now. The migraine is worsening, and Mayuzumi doesn’t know how long he has till his head splits itself apart.

Something clicks in Kuroko’s expression, like he’s finally connected all the dots. “You...are you scared of telling me? Scared of what I might think and ruining this—”

“Shut up.”

There’s no hesitation in the way Mayuzumi brings his leg up, and before Kuroko can move to escape, he crushes his heel into Kuroko’s abdomen, ripping a choked sound of surprise out of the other.

“Mayuzumi-s—?” Kuroko’s wheezes, but is then sharply cut off when Mayuzumi delivers a punch across his face.

Mayuzumi is not a violent person by any means. In fact, he’d even say that he doesn’t even get angry often. Irritated, yes—rather often, but not full blown rage.

He hates anger. Anger is loud and anger attracts attention. Anger comes from being around others.

Mayuzumi almost isn’t able to believe what he’s doing himself. There’s a part of him that is shouting at himself to stop, but that teensy tiny doubt is stamped out by his outrage.

He digs his foot further into Kuroko, hearing the choked sounds of pain, watching Kuroko seize his ankle and try to remove his foot.

Maybe letting go of his rationality might even turn out better for him. After all, Kuroko had it coming. No matter how much Mayuzumi tried to push him away, to distance himself, Kuroko would find a way to close in on him again. Always testing him. Always so annoying. Always so persistent. Always wanting to get closer.

He had it coming.

It’s high time that Kuroko learned his lesson.

“P-please…” Kuroko struggles to speak, fighting just to form one word, “stop it…you—“ He claws at Mayuzumi with shaky hands, Mayuzumi’s foot like the edge of a blade piercing through his stomach.

“Shut. Up,” Mayuzumi hisses.

He lets the cruel words slip out and lets all sympathy drain out of his heart.

Kuroko thrashes, pushing and striking against Mayuzumi’s leg.

“You—” Kuroko gasps sharply upon Mayuzumi adding more pressure.

“I’m not scared of anything when it comes to you.” Mayuzumi’s expression twists in fury, deranged like a monster. “You’re the last person I want to hear that from!”

Kuroko doesn't know Mayuzumi in the slightest. And he's arrogant for believing so.

Kuroko yelps, the pain nearly unbearable at this point. His fingers tremble against Mayuzumi’s ankle.

Mayuzumi never asked for this. Never asked for the stupid brat to interfere.

Kuroko summons up all his energy and elbows the other’s ankle as hard as he can, successfully breaking away from the hold. He collapses onto his knees onto the concrete. He has no time to even nurse his abdomen before Mayuzumi is forcefully pulling him up by his collar to meet gazes.

Kuroko rasps, finding it a bit difficult to catch his breath and look the other in the eye. Still, he’s not going to let himself be manhandled any further, and promptly knees Mayuzumi in the abdomen. Upon being dropped, Kuroko then throws an uppercut, hitting Mayuzumi squarely in the nose. In a matter of seconds, it starts oozing blood.

Kuroko kneels in pain, one hand on his abdomen. “We’re not getting...anywhere with this,” he wheezes out behind clenched teeth.

Mayuzumi just scowls at the ground, a hand pinching his bleeding nose and migraine causing excruciating pain. He doesn’t have the fucking patience for this. As much as he wants to crush Kuroko’s resolve and finally cut ties one and for all, Mayuzumi knows that it’s a futile effort. All he needs to do to remind himself of Kuroko’s perseverance is to replay their basketball match together, where Kuroko defied all odds and overwrote him. He has been nothing but a nuisance to Mayuzumi. He’s supposed to be a stain upon the floor, a shadow that’s eliminated in the obscurity.

There’s no room here for someone like Kuroko in his mind space, but Kuroko won’t have any of it. Kuroko has never been the type to bend to other people’s wills, and especially not to Mayuzumi. He has always stayed right here, right by Mayuzumi’s side. He has always rejected being silenced, and would only continue to do so. A shadow like Kuroko does not fade away into nothingness.

And Mayuzumi is fucking sick and tired of it.

If he cannot get the other to listen to him, then he’ll approach the problem differently. It was never a necessity for Mayuzumi to put forth the effort to make the other obey, but his blind rage drove him to do something that he wouldn’t have done in normal circumstances.

His eyes slide towards the edge of the rooftop.

Everything can be resolved if he just avoids it. He’s never needed to play the main character, because others seek out the trouble when he can watch from afar, away from conflict.

It’s always been that way. There’s no reason why the same method wouldn’t work.

He’s never needed to take needless initiatives. So why start now?

He can continue dreaming in peace. He wants to keep dreaming in peace. He will keep dreaming in peace—

Sleep. He just wants sleep. He just wants a dreamless sleep without the brat there to always bother him. He couldn’t care less about what Kuroko feels, and he thinks that if Kuroko rots away while waiting for him, then so be it.

“I better not see you again,” he bites out, sending one last glare.

He runs.

He jumps off.

A/N: So the thing is that I rewrote this chapter like four times and I’m so done I don’t wanna look at this anymore ugh

Thanks for reading and sticking with me _(:’3

#mayukuro #mayuzumi chihiro #kuroko tetsuya #kuroko no basuke #knb #my fic #this is largely a character study #which is why it was so hard for me to write lel

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transientutopia · 7 years

Text

apostasy - centre fragment

Read on AO3 (highly recommended)

"How low you've fallen, Chihiro."

'You don't have to say it, asshole -- I already... know...'

He can't feel, or see anything anymore. The last thing he remembers is the soft, derisive chuckle that rings through his ears, the same way it did eight years ago.

"...a ... tsuya... Tetsuya."

"...?"

'I know... that voice.'

"Tetsuya."

It's a voice as rich as velvet, silky, smooth, but more than anything...

...It's as sweet as poison.

He remembers this voice.

He remembers--

...

From where?

...

"Why are you--"

"Can't you tell from looking? Hey, Tetsuya...

...he's already broken, you know?"

...

It's raining.

"It's raining, huh," Kuroko Tetsuya notes aloud, gazing out through stained glass.

"Well, I guess I won't have any jobs," Kagami Taiga shrugs. "Hope you don't, either."

"That's raising a death flag, Kagami-kun."

"Shut up. There's no way--"

He cuts himself off as Tetsuya's phone goes off. Raising a brow, Taiga watches as Tetsuya reaches into his pocket.

The second he pulls his phone out and sees the display, he blinks, expression blank.

"It's Aomine-kun."

"Oh," Taiga blinks. He'd invited Daiki over to his house along with Tetsuya, of course -- but the policeman had been abruptly called in for duty, forcing him to reluctantly decline. Glancing over his shoulder, Taiga peers at the clock.

It's sixteen past three in the afternoon.

'It shouldn't be his break yet,' Taiga thinks, feeling his stomach drop. He whips back around to face Tetsuya, but evidently, the detective had caught on the moment his phone rang. Taiga swallows.

"...I see. We'll be right over," Tetsuya voices before ending the call. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he stands up, and Taiga does the same.

"What's the situation? Arson?"

"No," Tetsuya shakes his head. "Murder."

Tetsuya opens his eyes, blinking blearily.

...He isn't in Chihiro's safehouse anymore -- that much is obvious. Intriguingly, he isn't bound up: instead, he can feel silken sheets surrounding him.

It's so comfortable that he knows in an instant -- something is terribly wrong.

Shooting upright, Tetsuya's vision blurs, and he feels himself slip--

--only to be supported gently by a hand that lays him back against something hard -- the bedframe.

"You shouldn't move so suddenly," a familiar voice admonishes, laced with amusement, "you were knocked out just a few hours ago. You also injured your own forehead."

The voice sighs almost fondly, and the warm sound sends a chill right down Tetsuya's spine.

"Provoking and fighting an assassin... You really do never fail to exceed my expectations, Tetsuya."

He doesn't have to look up to know he's being watched with those same eyes--

--those icy, cold eyes that pierce; have always pierced, since so long ago; through him mercilessly, relentlessly, those eyes that know all--

Tetsuya lifts his head, and he drowns in a sea of crimson and amber.

"Murder?" Taiga repeats, eyes wide. "Shit, did someone get burned alive or something?"

"..."

Taiga's jaw drops.

"Hold on, I was joking--"

"Yes."

"...What?"

He almost doesn't want to hear the answer that comes next.

"The death god has made his move, Kagami-kun."

"Shinigami-san," the name falls from Tetsuya's lips before he can stop himself. The "death god" only laughs that same, beguiling, charming laugh that Tetsuya remembers more vividly than anything.

(He really wishes he doesn't.)

"How many times have I told you to call me by my name, Tetsuya? Or could it be... Have you forgotten it already?"

He says the words as if they're a question, but they both know he isn't asking anything. After all, his name hasn't left Tetsuya's mind for a single moment over the years.

"...Akashi Seijuurou-san."

Seijuurou's smirk combined with his hooded eyes are a dangerous, dangerous weapon.

"Death god," Taiga echoes incredulously. "His last victim was literally three days ago -- what the hell's going on with that guy?"

"That's my job to find out," Tetsuya murmurs, gaze hardening. Taiga sees his expression from the corner of his eye, and gulps.

"...Hey, Kuroko."

"What is it, Kagami-kun? We have to hurry and get moving. Aomine-kun is waiting. Or..." he tilts his head innocently, "...could it be, you're having a lover's quarrel? What a horrid person you are, not divulging such information to me, your best friend."

"W-w-wha-- no! It's not like that, idiot!"

Taiga flushes red as he pulls on his jacket.

"Why are you here?"

"Shouldn't that be my question, Tetsuya?" Seijuurou steps closer to the bed once more. He presses his knees onto the bed sheets as he leans in, lifting Tetsuya's chin with a single hand. "Tell me -- why did you choose to come here?"

He knows the answer. He always does, but he wants to hear it from Tetsuya directly.

Despite how light-headed he is, the conviction in the detective's gaze does not waver.

"I came to apprehend you. You and Mayuzumi-san both."

"Did you?" Seijuurou chuckles. "Willingly walking in here yourself... Were you waiting for that chance these past few years?"

"Were you?"

Tetsuya surprises himself with his own boldness, and Seijuurou is visibly perplexed for a moment, too. Then, his eyes narrow and his lips curl upwards.

"Yes," he says as his hand moves to caress Tetsuya's cheek, "I've been waiting for a long time."

When they arrive on the scene, there is nobody other than members of the police force.

"No witnesses nor suspects again," Tetsuya notes softly. Taiga glances at him, concerned, but he doesn't get a chance to read the boy's expression before a familiar arm slings around his shoulder.

"Yo, Kagami. Tetsu."

"Aomine!"

"Aomine-kun." Tetsuya acknowledges, eyes locked onto the crime scene, "I'm going to investigate."

"Ah-- er, yeah, thanks."

Daiki watches warily as Tetsuya walks over to another detective on the case. As usual, he goes unnoticed until he places a hand on the male's back, scaring the living life out of him. Taiga snorts, but his mirth fades when he turns to face his boyfriend.

"Aomine--"

"Yeah, I know. Tetsu's really obsessed with that guy, isn't he?"

"Obsessed, you say... I don't think it's that big of a deal yet," Taiga refutes, but the argument sounds weak, even to his own ears. Daiki doesn't look at him when he speaks, gaze fixed onto their best friend's back.

"...It'd be good if it weren't."

"Akashi-san," Tetsuya tries. Seijuurou shakes his head.

"Do you intend to nullify our agreement from last time, Tetsuya?"

"...Seijuurou."

"It would be better for you to rest right now," he says in lieu of answering, "your body has not recovered yet."

Seijuurou lets go of Tetsuya and moves off the bed, but before he can make it out the door, Tetsuya speaks.

"Please wait, Aka-- Seijuurou."

"What is it?"

"...Where is Mayuzumi-san?"

Seijuurou's mouth twists upwards to form a smile that shows nothing.

"He, too, is resting in another room. His injuries have not healed, after all."

"..."

The door shuts smoothly behind him as he leaves, and Tetsuya's fingers tighten in the silken sheets splayed around his body.

He can't do anything but watch Seijuurou go.

But worst of all--

--he can't even point out his obvious routes of escape when they both know:

that there's no way he'll take a single step towards them.

"I have to go," Tetsuya says, but Daiki does not move out of his way, and Taiga does not let his shoulder go.

"You can't, Tetsu. Wait for reinforcements -- or, take us with you."

"That won't work," he says, shaking his head. "He's always ten steps ahead of us. If I don't go after him now, we won't stand a chance in catching him."

"How do you know he's going to be there?"

"I know," Tetsuya's nails dig into his fists. His eyes flit back to the crime scene briefly, and Daiki catches on immediately.

"He left something for you, didn't he," the policeman says, and Tetsuya does not flinch. Taiga's eyes widen as the boy nods.

"That doesn't make a reason for why we can't go," Taiga argues, and Tetsuya bites his lip, brows furrowing in a rare display of frustration.

"I have to go alone--"

"Did he say that to you?"

"No," Tetsuya's eyes are downcast, "but this is my job. Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun... I can't--"

"Don't give me that 'I can't get you two involved' shit, Tetsu." Daiki growls, "I'm not letting you go to this guy by yourself."

"Are you saying that as a policeman, or as my best friend?"

The uncharacteristically harsh words spill from Tetsuya's lips before he can think, and he freezes. Daiki's features contort in anguish.

"I'm saying it as both, Tetsu."

He lowers his head, and Tetsuya inhales sharply. Taiga tenses up, mouth agape as Daiki bows.

"...Please. Don't do something so reckless."

"..."

Tetsuya takes a step forward, hands reaching out to cup Daiki's face. He lifts his head, meeting the phantom's gaze.

He's never seen the warmth and resolve in those deep, blue eyes glow so strongly.

"Aomine-kun," Tetsuya begins softly, "thank you very much. But, I have to go. I'll be fine. I know I will."

"..."

"Well, if Kuroko's that confident," Taiga traps both of them in headlocks, ignoring their muffled protests, "then we'll have to give him the good part this time, huh?"

Daiki stops struggling and heaves a sigh. Stepping back, they both ruffle Tetsuya's hair in sync, earning a small huff from the boy. Taiga laughs at his powder-blue locks that have successfully turned into an absolute mess of spikes, and Daiki snickers.

When he looks up at the pair, Tetsuya doesn't bother to hide the smile playing at his lips.

Blood. The unmistakably thick, stifling scent of blood is palpable in the air, even through the heavy rain. Tetsuya heads towards it, already tugging a vinyl glove onto his right hand. He pulls out his phone with his left.

Like an intentional trail, there is blood splattered across the asphalt, splatters that only increase the closer he gets to whoever -- whatever is waiting.

...

...When he finds it, he can barely perceive it as a former human.

There isn’t a single inch of the ground that isn’t painted red. He can’t tell whether the corpse was a female, or a male. It’s closer to “a mess of carved flesh and innards” than a tangible body at this point.

He swallows.

It's gruesome -- he can hardly bear to look at it. Closing his eyes, Tetsuya breathes in -- he can only smell blood, blood, blood, it's so strong he can practically taste it -- and dials a number on his phone.

"Tetsu?"

"He got us," Tetsuya says immediately, "I'm sending you the address right now."

"...Alright. Be careful."

Nimble fingers gliding across the keyboard, Tetsuya forwards his current location to both Daiki and Taiga, and then turns away.

He pauses.

Eyes narrowing, he walks back and kneels down, pressing his gloved fingers to the bloodied concrete.

"I swear I'll definitely find you."

"...!"

The moment Tetsuya reaches for the dying man on the floor, he hears a click. Eyes widening, he jumps back--

--and watches as he goes up in flames.

Tetsuya wants to scream, he can't breathe, he can hear the man's screeches as the fire licks up his arms, his clothes, his wounds, the rain isn’t helping--

"Another miss, huh."

He freezes up entirely as an arm wraps around his waist. A hand presses softly against his eyes, but he doesn't have to look to be able to know who's behind him. With his back pressed against his chest, Tetsuya swallows.

"You didn't make it on time, Tetsuya," Seijuurou's voice purrs beside his ear, "didn't I tell you before? If you don't make haste, it'll be over before you realise it."

"...Yes."

He can feel Seijuurou's smile without seeing it.

"Hey, Tetsuya. Shall we make a bet?"

"...?"

"If I win, you have to call me by my first name."

He lets go of Tetsuya, who turns to face him, eyes ablaze as always -- no matter how shaken he is. He can feel the corners of his lips tug upwards of their own volition.

He's always loved those eyes.

Chuckling, he holds his right hand out, palm upwards, fingers slightly curled. Tetsuya's gaze flicks down to it for a moment, and Seijuurou's smile widens.

"If you win, you can take me in."

"Fucking... bastard...!"

"Kagami Taiga," Seijuurou murmurs, leaning down. Taiga is glaring up at him, grimacing from where he lies on the floor. He can't see anything in Seijuurou's eyes: there is nothing but ice and void.

"My orders are absolute. If I tell you to fall, you will fall. Know your place."

"Shut... the fuck... up! I'll kill you..."

"Oh?" Seijuurou glances at the scissors stabbed through Taiga's hands, pinning him to the ground. "You should consider yourself lucky that Tetsuya does not wish for your death. Otherwise..."

"...You asshole, as if that's-- the reason why you're--"

"Yes," Seijuurou slams the heel of his shoe down onto Taiga's fingers callously. He gazes down with bored indifference when a scream rips from Taiga’s throat, as if he were watching vermin crawling across filth. "The reason I am not killing you is simple -- it's because you're still usable."

"...! You--"

"...Kagami-kun?"

He's lost count of how many times he's seen Seijuurou.

Always, always chasing--

Yet he hasn't caught him even once.

Tetsuya wakes up with a single arm outstretched, palm facing up as he reaches towards the ceiling. The blankets have been rearranged so that he nestles in them softly; but that isn't all.

His fingers are laced with someone else's. Squinting open his eyes, he can make out a clouded shape that is undeniably Akashi Seijuurou.

"Good morning, Tetsuya."

"...Good morning."

Seijuurou does not make a move to let go of Tetsuya's hand, so he doesn't, either. He lets their linked hands fall back by his side, though, and Seijuurou peers over at him as he attempts to blink his sleepiness away.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"You," Tetsuya answers without a beat of hesitation. He watches as Seijuurou's eyes widen imperceptibly, and he feels a small sense of satisfaction bloom at the sight. "I was dreaming of the past."

"Oh?" Seijuurou leans in, "Is that why your arm suddenly shot out, then? I was startled."

"Startled," Tetsuya echoes, because he can't imagine Seijuurou jolting in shock at anything.

"Yes, startled," he chuckles, "you grabbed onto me without warning, after all."

"...I apologise."

"No, it's fine."

Seijuurou squeezes his hand, an unusually tender gesture that throws Tetsuya off balance.

"If you hadn't done so, I wouldn't have been able to do this, after all."

"...There was nothing stopping you from doing it either way."

"Is that an invitation?"

"No," he says, staring at Seijuurou straight in the eyes, "but you always act selfishly."

A smile spreads across the redhead's lips.

"Hey, Tetsuya. Don't you think it's about time?"

"...?"

"You should remember by now."

"What are you--"

"Isn't that right?"

Seijuurou shifts ever-so-slightly, the bed dipping as he moves. It grants Tetsuya the ideal vision to what lies in the corner of the room, and--

--everything stops.

"Tetsuya, there's someone new we'd like you to meet. He's going to be-- y-- o-- er... ...pleasure to--"

"I'm-- ...! Niceto-- meet--?"

--where did you--

"I-I--"

"YOU HAVE TO GET OUT, TETSUYA-- --se..--! ...isn't-- I'll--... ... ..."

"..."

...

...?!

...go... Let him-- go-- ... !

It isn't-- supposed --?

When he finally looks up, he's alone.

Alone.

...

...?

Was there someone here with him before?

"Hey, Kuroko! Hows-- --? --hasn't-- been in a whiile--"

"...?"

Eventually, nobody speaks of it anymore.

Tetsuya has always been alone.

...Alone?

There's something different about this head. It has mahogany-hued locks that frame it almost pristinely. Its eye sockets have been cleaned, almost meticulously, where the eyes have been ripped out. The mouth is agape, the cheeks are sunken, and there are a few cuts across them that have, also, been cleaned. There is a gash beneath the bottom right cheek, along the jaw. There is no longer any blood leaking from it, as if it has all been drained. Similarly, the sever has been done in a spotless, precise manner: it's as if there wasn't a neck nor body to begin with.

It is jarring, even more so with how real it seems. How alive it looks.

"No," Tetsuya breathes, because this isn't how it was supposed to go--

With his palms pressed tightly one on top of the other, pushing back against his lips, Tetsuya's eyes are wide as he forces himself to lean in.

...

His legs won't move.

"Tetsuya, I brought some candy home! Let's eat it together!"

"Yes!"

"No," he repeats, tightening his grip around Seijuurou's fingers, whose lips curl upwards. His heterochromatic eyes widen with pure elation, and all Tetsuya can feel from him is a twisted mixture of delight, love and a bottomless pit of malice--

"Oh dear, Tetsuya, where you with -- ... --again? It's great to see you boys having fun-- ..."

"Yes"--?

where are-- you--?

wheredi d he go--

Masculine. About twenty-five or so years of age, if he were to estimate. Standard, Japanese features. He prods at the jaw.

...

There's something inside.

It's been... Sewn to the roof of the mouth, he realises as he feels the intricate stitching. Whoever did this has been downright meticulous in their handling of their victim.

...

It's a candy wrapper.

He's seen the candy a handful of times before, advertised around busy cities in Tokyo. He can't remember it that vividly.

Noting it down mentally, he places the head back down, and peers inside the compartment once more.

"No--"

Tetsuya tries to back away, but his body won't move the way he wants it to. He ends up pushing himself directly onto Seijuurou, who catches him without question, silent as the detective trembles in his arms.

"You-- why do you--"

Why do you have that?

The words won't come out of his mouth, but he doesn't want them to, either--

"How long has it been since you last saw that picture? Hmm... Eleven years, was it?"

"Why--"

"Hey," Seijuurou whispers, lips on the nape of Tetsuya's neck as he pulls his small body, so limp and so docile, closer, "you couldn't recognise it at all, could you--"

Tetsuya can't speak.

He can't feel.

He can't breathe, because--

"--the face of your own brother?"

#IT'S DONE it was done on time but I uploaded on AO3 first LOL #thank you #THANK YOU FOR READING #AkaKuro #apostasy #apostasy centre fragment #MayuKuro #AkaKuroMayu #my fic #KnB #a hell lot of temporal shifts this time

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