Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke/The Basketball Which Kuroko Plays is not mine. But you know that anyway.
THIS IS THE EDITED VERSION. The original is messier, and I fixed some of it. This one may have some more incorrect grammars, and I apologize if you found any.
AN: I hope you enjoy this short oneshot. I just wanted to try a take of what Kuroko might have been feeling when he left Teiko. I think you would find an excess poetic words and symbolism around here, so if you don't like those kind of things, I'll remind you that no one forced you to read it. Well, and also (maybe) a bit of unnecessary angst, but hey, I'll be sad too if my friends decided to skip out and leave me behind. Kidding. I'll instead curl into a ball and cry and leave snot everywhere.
Summary: Kuroko can't take it anymore. He's being left behind. So he left. He will try to cross the pitch black of the unknown, as the bright shining lights of the legendary Generation of Miracles blinds everything, leaving a shadow behind.
It's cold. So cold. Cold, cold chill started to seep inside your body. You tried to avoid it, but long since you realized that the effort is useless anyway. Because it's too late now, and you never realized before that your inaction, your silence may have caused this.
You are all alone now. Nothing. You're empty, hollow, useless. No use to scream. No one would hear you.
No, not them. They won't respond. And they don't. Didn't they say that you were useless now? Why do you even try? You still try to scream anyways. You also realized, a second later, that you should not hope and long for them. Because they didn't respond. Nothing, no sound ever came out of you, and no response triggered from them. Maybe they didn't notice. Maybe they didn't hear your silent, desperate plea for help. Maybe they just don't care. Maybe.
Their lights are far, and somewhat dim. Not because they're weakening, no, that won't be possible. They were too strong, and their lights won't fade. Did they... Have they moved on? You're left behind, in the dark. But the shadows are your territory. It's fine, you thought. It's okay. You're not left behind, because they would never do that. I know them, you thought, but you ignored a hint of desperation that entered it. They won't leave you... right? You stood, unsure. You tried to squint and see them, feeling a rush of relief when you saw a flash of red, purple, blue, green, pink, and yellow. You focused and frowned when realizing that you can only see their backs. It's okay. It's okay if they don't turn around. At least they're still there. That would mean they still need you. They need you. You breathed a sigh of relief, and tried to see them again.
But nothing. You didn't see them. They're gone. But you still caught a flash of them anyways, but they're far, and if you didn't do something now, they will be out of your sight, and soon. They're moving on!
No.
Please. Look at me.
Don't leave me behind.
You tried catching up. You tried to reach out to them, trying to make them SEE you. But they don't, same as the failures that you get when trying to reach out for them in the past. They continued on forward. Your silent pleas, though crystal clear in meaning didn't make them look back. They didn't look back. Maybe they really do don't care after all... Maybe.
So you stopped. You still hoped that they will face you, and just stay with you. You can still see their lights, you can still catch up to them, but they won't face you. But you are crumbling, crashing, and shattering. You can't keep this up. You can't try to keep the charade any longer. You tried, but you know that you're close to a breaking point. You can't. Face it. Stop denying the truth!
They-they just don't care. That's what. That's why they don't turn around. That's why they don't stop and wait for you. They really are leaving you behind. But an accursed part of your heart whispered, and still can't stop hoping, telling you that they doesn't mean to leave you. They'll turn around. You'll see, it whispered, you'll see. But they still don't, but that doesn't mean that you stopped waiting though. They'll turn around, it whispered again, voice though sounding desperate, trying to convince itself every passing minute.
You know, and that weakens you. You know that you are too late. Trying to make them listen is just a desperate ploy. You didn't notice the current raging fast enough, and you were too late to stop them from drifting and being carried by the raging torrents. There were no loud noise at first, only uneasy whispers, before all of them started drifting away. There were nothing you could do and you were helpless to do anything when they started leaving.
"I don't need you to pass to me anymore, Tetsu."
Aomine. No. Don't. You're joking. You're lying. You say that we will always play together. It's not funny, Aomine.
"Player change. Tetsuya, get on the bench. You're not playing well enough. Winning is everything."
...Akashi? I'm not useless! I -I tried my best...
"Hmmm, Kuro-chin? Practicing? It's boring. I don't need it. I'll crush them easily enough."
Murasakibara? P-please, don't say things you don't mean. Let's play basketball together.
"You are useless, invalid. Isn't that clear, Kuroko? You just depend on other people. That's why I don't like you."
Midorima! But t-that is how I play! It's fine as long others can shine, I- ...Please. Can't we just play together again?
"Tche. Well that's a boring match. Weak. Hey, Aomine-cchi! Play with me one on one?"
Kise! Listen to me! You can't do that! Why are you changing?
"Tetsu... Aomine-kun, and everyone is... I'm—i'm... I can't..."
Satsuki? Not you too...
...
...
...
I don't want to be left alone.
See? They don't need you. Just go, before they hurt you again.
But it's too late right. No, the damage had applied itself. You almost could feel knives of betrayal stabbing at your chest, hurting you. You can't think clearly, your mind a jumbled mess. You are already hurt, thrown away like no more than a broken toy. Everyone changed, and you didn't. You feel cold tears trickling down your face as you cried facing the shadows casted by your lights. No, not yours. Theirs. They don't need you, how many times you must repeat to yourself before you accepted the truth, though how unpleasant it is?!
That's why you were blunt to other people, wasn't it? Because you don't like lies, though crafted by the sweetest tongue. You prefer truth and honesty. It is a strange sensation of irony when you realized that even you, yourself can't handle the truth.
No, no use staying. Just go, now. Don't let them scar and wound you. They don't care, and its time for you to return the favor. Don't care for them.
You finally shattered, like a fragile broken glass. No, you can't continue this accursed path. Ignoring the steady stream of cold tears from your red eyes and wet face, you looked out of the windows.
It's dark. How long has you stayed in the locker room?
It's nightfall. You could see the large, white melancholic full moon in all its glory. The Moon. Cold and distant, alone and lifeless... yet, it's the only celestial body whose light can pierce the pitch black night. You can't stop yourself to compare it to them. They are surely the sun. Bright, full of life, glorious and shining. Casting rays of light, they, the sun also cast shadows on the floor. And now, you. You could somehow see yourself as the moon. Cold and distant... alone and lifeless...? And the only celestial body whose light can pierce the pitch black night. Perhaps you shone too. You shone in your own way, just like the moon shining and piercing the night.
But though special and unique, the shine of the moon would never compare to the bright rays of a sun. The moon, it's cold hearted orb that rules the night, and removes the colors from your sights couldn't compare to a blazing sun that colors the world.
You gazed at it for a while. As a moon, you still can't compare to the suns. You're a burden, and a deadweight. So you took a piece of paper, and a pen. And slowly, gingerlu, you wrote a letter. Your resignation letter. You're still dazed, confused and hurt when you wrote it, because, somehow, even basketball (the sport you always loved, it's where you feel at home-) doesn't even make sense anymore. Your tears have long since stopped, as your eyes now throbbed and hurt, but you can't cry again, as they were no more tears you can shed. The paper was littered with drops of your tears, wet and creased. You thought absently, this will show them how hard this is. You wondered why you care if they saw the wet tear marks anyway.
You signed the letter. Kuroko Tetsuya, you wrote gingerly.
You know you're not being rash. You thought about this, you tried to make the others listen and see sense. But they still don't respond. At least you tried. You can't even bring yourself to like basketball anymore. You hate it.
You closed the paper and slipped the letter to Momoi's clipboard. She'll find it tomorrow, at basketball practice. It's done. Over.
After gazing at their retreating backs again –dammit they still haven't turned around. It's the last chance- you lost hope. You turned your backs onto them too. If they turned around just now, instead glimpsing at your joyful face they will see if they turned around just minutes ago, they will see nothing of the sort. They'll see your back.
You are leaving. Go. Now.
Instead continuing to trail behind the remains of their light, you turned around and took a pitch black road of the unknown. You didn't care, because you will go travel along that road. Maybe you'll find something new. Yes, you will find a new life, even perhaps a new hobby. Or you could try... Perhaps you could rediscover basketball once more.
A new life. A new team. A new basketball. The unknown, the pitch black road of the this night, would offer you this. Yes. You took the offer.
So you left, following to the pitch black path.
In the eerie shine of the moon, the rays of silver light shone on your face.
You smile.