AUTHOR: This is the REWRITTEN version, readers! A lot of thinking later, I decided that I should switch back to my old writing style. Even if the judges doesn't like it. :/

Summary: Kuroko Tetsuya is unlike anyone the big city of Kyoto has ever seen, and he's struggling to keep it together when years of moving starts to take a toll in his relationship with his family. Through dark hidden secrets and the mysterious girl in the photo, he will soon find out how desperately he regretted his decisions.

Akashi Seijuurou, who has lost six years worth of memories, wakes up one day in bed of his home. Plagued by nightmares, he only has his parents' support to lead him through life. Years later, when Kuroko moves in with an undesirable impression on his past records, Akashi is drawn to him and determines to uncover the connection between them.

Chapter 1
Beyond The Looking Glass

Unsettled.

That was how Akashi Seijuurou felt as the day drew closer to night. Light into darkness. The eerie silence. The fluttering curtains from the windows. The tiny squeak from the floorboards as he scrambled around the hallways, making sure that no students were still lumbering about. At the same time, he looked under desks and kept his eyes peered for anything that was forgotten.

The courtyard was bustling with excitement. Students filed out from the grounds in groups, chattering by the sidewalks. Vehicles pulled over, parents waving out to get their children's attention. A gang of buffed up teenagers in streetwear hung around the alleys, making a move on unsuspecting girls. A group of senior graders in glamour attires remained by the fountain, using the water as a mirror to replace their faded make-up.

The security guard by the entrance gave a large yawn. He settled down onto his chair and resumed going through the magazines he brought. Paying no attention at all to the small fights that broke out between students. Might as well quit his job if he wasn't going to do his job properly. Whenever a parent walked up to him to ask the whereabouts of their child, he would be ignorant and shrugged half-heartedly. "Sorry, Madam/Sir, don't know any troublemakers from your description." Usually it earned him a slap. Not that he cared much about it. No wonder he was still single all these years.

Teachers were frantic. Milling around the staff room with endless reports and homework, frustratingly destroying keyboards with endless fits while they tried feebly to finish. Some were practically bawling their eyes out with exams coming right up. Others simply went crazy from all the stress, slumping forward onto their desk and softly snored into dreamland. Prefects that were assigned to help had to shake them awake before returning to their respectful tasks. New recruits who underestimated the workload were whining loudly, telling their perfects to back off while they took a short nap. Though it always involved slumbering to the next morning.

The Student Council wasn't any better. Being part of it often had to endure firing back at the teachers who were irresponsible. Irrational teachers who couldn't take the strain anymore would dump their unfinished tasks onto the Student Council and plainly stated, "Finish these for me," before leaving. Just when they spent all their free time, now they had to do the same for those devilish fiends! Members would just roll their eyes in disbelief, shaking their heads and muttered something about reporting them to the principal.

Earlier, Vice-President had poked her head around the corner of his office. "Ah, President, thank you for your assistance. We have things under control. Assuming the teachers won't torture us with their workload again." She rolled her eyes at her own comment. "Anyway, President, you should take some time off and head home early. Your family has a strict curfew the last I heard. Don't worry about us. Everyone agrees that you need some rest." She left no space for arguments with her stern glare. It didn't faze him that much, considering it wasn't as terrified as the one his mother had worn when he snuck off to look around for a few minutes. That was ages ago when he was young. Just to satisfy her, he nodded. She beamed. End of discussion.

"Oh, right, before I go," she added, tossing him a small pouch. The pouch landed onto his palm with a soft juggle. Something crunching inside. "Mexican cookies," she said gleefully. He accepted with a nod of gratitude. "Wait, hold that thought. Don't jump to conclusions yet. It's from a classmate of mine." She cringed. "She couldn't work up the courage to give it to you so she asked me to do it." He frowned, wondering why Vice-President would express rude behaviour towards the gesture. "A word of advice: don't eat that unless you want to die. She doesn't know how to bake or even prepare toast. The last time she'd cooked, the soccer team had food poisoning."

Oh.

"Then why did you give it to me in the first place? Couldn't you just dispose of it or is this your ideal of a joke?" He raised his eyebrows, challenging.

She sighed exasperatedly. "This is why no one wants your opinion on love, President. You're too naïve on the topic. When girls spent their desired time doing something for someone they love, it's kind of heartbreaking to hear that the person you're crushing on doesn't show any interest in you. I promised her I would deliver it to you personally regardless of the cause. Sometimes it's better to lift the burden from your shoulders by not keeping everything bottled up."

"And in that very pouch of cookies," she pointed at the pouch, "are her true feelings. She knows that you are out of her league, but I respect her nonetheless for being brave to confront her feelings. Everybody deserves a chance. Now, run along."

Akashi glared at her, clearly not amused to be labelled as a child. Her expression was unreadable. She strode into the office, hoisting a couple of shopping bags in both hands. He was about to ask about them before deciding he shouldn't. She did things with a reason, and it wasn't his place to know. He left without a word, murmuring a small 'thanks'.

As he stepped out of his office reluctantly, gazing down the empty hallway. The evening golden light streamed in through the windows in beautiful grace, beyond that was total darkness. Almost an impeccable stillness. The darkness itself seemed to give out a dread of misery, seeping into his bones the closer and the longer he stood there. An ominous alarm sounded in his head. Bells warning him in loud rings. Yet he couldn't help but suspect it was just an abandoned corridor where students walked past everyday in their lives. The only logical difference in this new fit of fear was that it was dawning on night. No sun to bring glory into his world. Only darkness to consume it.

Darkness. His worst fear aside from mirrors.

He had his experiences with mirrors a long time ago. When he was around six. He didn't know why he felt happy from the beginning. His memories were clouded together. Whenever he tried to recap the episode back, swirling mist would obscure his vision, rendering himself dizzy from trying. Occasionally he had dreams about his past. His long forgotten past of six years. Six years shouldn't matter to him. When people grow up, they usually forgot about maybe half of their lives from the beginning. For him, it felt like a hole had been dug into his brain, extracting the puzzle pieces to his image.

It was always the same, a blurry mop of companions surrounding him with love and care. Or the nightmares that plagued him at night, taunting him with the mockery, the laughter that echoed from the voice of a girl. At the same time, a mimicking wailing voice was pouring all her sadness into her cries, shouting out to the heavens of the agony she had suffered, blaming the world for her sadness. There were two voices screaming in his head during his sleepless nights, each carried their own story—their own ending.

He shook his head. Talking to himself wasn't going to help him. Trudging forward, he shouldered his backpack on one arm. The corridors were familiar to him and he didn't stop to look where he turned. Part of him already knew where to go, the other part was due to the fact he felt somewhat uneasy walking through these narrowed walls that appeared to be closing on him. They discharged negative energy that made his skin tingled strangely, like a snowman had crept up to him and was breathing down his neck, expelling a cold breeze that travelled down his spine countless of times when he was alone. Unprotected. Targeted.

Huffing to himself for thinking such silly things, he turned on the lights past the sun-streamed path. Light blazed into life from above. Immediately the darkness shunned away, the snowman disappeared, the place lit up. He could finally breathe properly without feeling that he was endangered. He wasn't feeling that he had gone through a herd of lions. Predators tended to look intimidating when you were at the bottom of the food chain.

/

Everything started to go wrong when he turned the last corner. The lights were flickering back and forth. He only had one floor to descend and he was out. Sensing that strange sensation again—a cold feeling upon his neck, he started down the steps two at a time, ignoring the fleeting panic that was building up in him, gnawing stubbornly on the butterflies in his stomach. Up ahead, shoe lockers lined the front entrance in different rows, tag names plastered on each metal box. The double glass doors looked about as tempting as ever when you're running from your own insanity. Outside, the sun was at the edge of the horizon, spilling a dim wave of orange.

Why are you leaving? the haunting voice of the girl snickered. Akashi froze. We were having so much fun together. You promised to stay with me, didn't you? You promised to never leave my side, didn't you? Give me the love we shared as one, so we can finally be together forever and forever. You'd love that, right?

"Who are you?" Akashi demanded. "What are your intentions?" No answer. Only snickers reverberating from walls. "Answer me!"

Silence. As if the girl had just realized she was speaking to the wrong person. It was broke by a silent whisper. You're not him...

Akashi was surprised that her tone had changed into another person's that practically screamed sorrow, but he knew she was still the same person. The octave went higher and more shrilled. The alternate personalities of the girl that resided both side of the fields.

IMPOSTER!

Akashi doubled over, clutching his stomach as the magnitude of her voice sent daggers throughout his nerves. There was a loud cracking sound, and he looked up to see lines spreading like cobwebs. He thought he was losing consciousness with all the white swarming his vision, but the lines spiralled uncontrollably around the atmosphere. The wails from the girl only made it worse.

YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!

Like a broken mirror, reality shattered into a million pieces. The deafening roar had him covered his ears. He shut his eyes, listening to the falling of a thousand shards. When he opened his eyes, he jolted up onto his feet in amazement, forgetting about the nauseated feeling. Everywhere—to the point of his vision—was red, as though someone had hung red lights above him. Without thinking twice, he made a break through the doors. Somewhere within his senses, he could feel the contemn rage radiating from the girl.

Clouds parted away from the crimson moon. He gagged at the scent of death in the evening air. The courtyard was empty. The girls that hung by the fountain were gone, leaving a heavy set of make-up left afloat in the air. The fountain itself was in the middle of shooting streams of water in a stylish manner, but the water wasn't running. Teardrops of splashes levitated. The swaying leaves of the trees were quiet, fallen leaves still laid fallen. The security guard was gone; his magazine—like everything else—looked like it was held up by an invisible being.

You have no where to run, foolish child, a voice hissed behind him. He turned and found the girl in her black dress, her dress sleeves were puffy, held onto straps while leaving the top part of her shoulders bare. Three layers of purple ruffles parted at her thighs to reveal her bare legs. She wore a black headband in her hair with black lace trimming, contrasting to her white hair that flowed down her back; past her knees. Her eyes were forest green with her pupils slit-shaped. A fury of storms raging in them as she directed her hatred at him. Whenever she spoke, her voice seemed to multiply tenfold.

She spread her hands, her bangs swept across the sinister grin. She took a step forward; the ground trembled under her foot, sprouting out sickly purple poison ivies. Before he could even move a muscle, she became a blur in her spot and suddenly was in front of him, cupping his cheeks tenderly, bringing her face closer to his, smiling sweetly that didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes flashed dangerously, searching for fear in his eyes. When she spoke again, this time it was feminine and human. The two words he found it hard to dub her.

"Such a sweet and innocent child," she purred. "I can see why Delphine chose to use you in her plans." She traced a thumb over his cheek, smiling sympathetically. "But don't worry, child, I will make all your pain go away. She shall not obtain what she wishes. Her cruelty will not taint you. You will be whisked away from her where she can never reach you. The world shall perish along with her. While you will see the world fall to my knees when you are reborn. Do not fret, child, death is peaceful. It is your only escape."

Akashi felt the pull of her words, seducing him into submission. He didn't understand what she meant by being used in Delphine's plans, assuming if he even knew her, but he felt nothing soothing from her words. She only smelled of death to him. The poison ivies surrounded him, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Then he thought about his parents, sitting at the porch waiting for his return, sending out security to hunt for him. His mother probably had pulled up a chair to the lawn where the grass had been cut evenly and cleaned from dried leaves and wind-blown flowers. His father must be sitting across her from a table, drowned in his laptop, typing furiously to locate him. God, how much trouble was he going to be in for being late for curfew. Well, deducing he survives from this at least.

/

He was six again. The ground tickled under him. Wheats that were outlined with the colour of gold sprouted out from the earth. The meadow smelled of freshly baked rice cakes and mint. The airspace was dark and the deserted field slept onwards. Everything was motionless.

The sky changed. From an ominous black driven to the ocean blue. The place came to life, the wind swept across the landscape, turning the meadow of wheats into a garden of colourful flowers that altered their colours from time to time. Birds chirped away from high boughs, building their nest with small twigs and dried leaves, nestled inside comfortably even as the day remained warm. Honeybees hopped from one flower to another, buzzing away in their hives.

He heard the rustle of bushes and saw a girl, dressed in everything white, even her hair and her headband made her glimmer under the rays of daylight. Her eyes held a beautiful hue of ocean green and blue—the kind of innocence you saw in a child. She tapped her boots leisurely with no lyrics to accompany the notes. She hid behind a tall tree bark, her head peeked out, eyes roaming the garden shyly, waiting.

Her eyes brightened up when a boy marched into the garden, clad in a white tunic that reached above his knees, a leather belt strapped around his waist. His hair adorned the same shade as the girl, but his eyes were imperial red. His sharp, angular cheek bones arced into a smile when he took noticed of the girl, giving a short wave.

/

Upon seeing his trance, the kindness in her eyes twisted sinisterly. She slid her fingers down his cheeks, stopping on his throat. The poison ivies hissed favourably as they twirled their vines around his legs, making its way up. She knew she had won the battle. She stopped short from squeezing his throat when a pair of hands grabbed her wrists. She stared into his crimson eyes, a flame flickered. She ignored the fear that she felt when his eyes seemed to brighten up. She gave him her best sugary smile. "What's wrong, child?"

He said nothing.

She felt it. The burn of a thousand degrees dipped in fire. Her beautiful features scrunched up as she shrieked, her eyes wide with fright. She flailed, trying to put as much distance as possible from him, but his grip only tightened insistently. "Let me go, you stupid brat! You can't do this! I can't die by a mere child!" Her screams made everything cracked. She kept seething at him by cursing. "Let me go, child! I will spare your parents! Do not delay my plans any further! The world must end!"

Fire erupted from his palms as her wrists smoked, darkening into coal black. The ivies were still making their way up his torso, twining into knots. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. If he could make fire appear in his hands, then he should try fending off. He felt a tug and warm ran down his body. The vines bellowed in agony. Fire shot through the vines to the girl's feet. Soon, she was trapped in a wall of fire. "No, no, no, this isn't part of my plans!"

Akashi felt nausea. He whirled himself back, shaking away the dark spots that had formed in his view. Six years ago he had dreamt of this girl. Now—as he looked closer—he could see the similirity in her hair. There was no innocence in those acid green eyes. They were clouded—like how foggy his memories were. "You're the girl from my dreams."

She stopped her struggles and tilted her head curiously. He thought he had grabbed her attention by striking a nerve, but he realized she had looked at him when the magic burn had dimmed from hot coals into warmer hands the same time he'd asked. The innocence had returned. He saw her eyes flickered back and forth, a second blue then green or a second green then blue. Her dressed shimmered between white and black, barefeet and boots. Two sides were battling inside her, until it halted at her dark version. She bursts into a fit of laughter, dark and haunting that sent a wave of iciness down his back.

"Really, child? I thought I would have received a better answer than that! After my failed attempt in manipulating you against the Council, you had the nerve to not fear me?"

"We never met."

There. That innocent look again. Her eyes were big with inquisitiveness. After that, she broke away from him and laughed, ignoring the fact that her wrists had been burned into soot-black. "I cannot believe this! How unfair your parents are! To think they would do something like that to their own child!"

Eyebrows scrunched, Akashi narrowed his eyes at her. "What did they do to me?

She shook her head. "This is a surprise to me. I suppose I can't fulfil my resentment towards an amnesic boy who doesn't even know his own identity." She stepped away from him, the ivies retreated obediently. Leaving her back turned to him, she said her parting words, "I sympathized you, child. Perhaps one day, when the time is right, your death will come." The crimson world fractured and fell apart in shards.

Akashi blinked.

He was back. Night had fallen a little. It couldn't have been minutes. He swore he had at least been gone for an hour. He turned back to the school. Everything was the same. The cheerleaders from the fountain made their way to him, batting their long—of course, fake—eyelashes.

"Akashi-sama," one of them greeted. Akashi grimaced when he spotted the overly masked make-up, the black highlights and her revealing top. "Would you like to, ah, accompany me for a small outing?" she drawled seductively. Her teammates giggled behind her. Akashi rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that we can pleasure you with our presence."

Akashi held up a hand, ceasing her advances on him. I don't have time for this. "As you all know of my curfew, I must be on my way back home. Surely you understand my fatigue from my Student Council duties. Excuse me."

"Don't be like that," she whined cutely, though he found nothing cute in it, "it's just a night out. Only a few hours. I'm sure your parents won't mind. Here, I'll give your parents one good call from my parents, then everything should be settle." Her hand drifted to her phone in her pocket shorts.

"No, really, it's fine. I'm tired—"

"Nonsense," she retorted back sweetly, "Akashi-sama does not experience mistakes, much less a small lack in energy."

She hobbled closer in her high heels, eyes glazed. Akashi wrinkled his nose from gagging at the horrible smell of alcohol in her exhaling breaths. She was drunk. The thought made him backed further away. The Perfects performed their inspections daily—he made sure of that; including himself—how did a squad of underage teenagers got a hold over liquor?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a blur zipped by. The blonde cheerleader screamed, falling back on her butt; her friends, out of interest than loyalty ignored this. They gawked at the black convertible, merely inches away from their leader. The guard buried himself further into his magazine. Eyes trailed wistfully at a pair of slender legs, a big-breasted female slipped out, her long, pink ponytail swishing. She looked about his age: twelve.

Behind the alley, the gangsters had totally forgotten about their targets. The girls had their jaws dropped too wide opened. At the driver's seat, her partner in crime had orange hair, lighter at the upper region. He wore shades and a wicked grin, muscles rippled under his tight T-shirt. He pushed up his shades, revealing dark eyes. He gave a small wink to the group of girls. The girls squealed and promptly fainted on the spot.

"Aka-chan! There you are, we've been searching!" The pink-haired girl latched onto his arm, dragging him towards the car.

"Do I know you?"

"Nope! Doesn't matter!"

He was thrown in like a sack of potatoes before she squeezed in next to him. They sped down the streets. Akashi was about to question whether they were even at the age of having a driving license when the orange-haired driver went to pick up his phone, lifting his hands off the wheel. He chatted through the other line casually as the convertible veered off to the junction. The wheel began to drive itself, the gears automatically changed. The girl looked bored, staring forward. Akashi stared at the wheel before turning away.

In the end, he didn't ask.

Next on Shiver: Bad Impression

"A new student is transferring."

"I hate to say this, but he's a freak!"

"Why did you look for me?"

AUTHOR: As a reader also, I understand how you get frustrated and impatient when not knowing what the next chapter is with late updates. I mean, every Author is going to need a break from all this stuff, right? So in every chapter, previews are going to be laid out for the next chapter. That means you have a lot to think about the three sentences in script form that I have given you. Try your luck in guessing!

And I won't be updating for the next week. One reason: Exams. XD Kill me! (not literally, mind you)