Interlude

Words: 3,014

Pairing: Akashi Seijuurou/Kuroko Tetsuya (kinda, like hints or something)

Beta: None

Warnings: None. Well, I mean there's angsty Kuroko so.

He was cold out here. It had been a while that he'd been standing here, listlessly gazing into grey waves crashing to shore, but he couldn't convince himself to move even as the cold froze his fingers and the wind threw his hair into his eyes. It hurt. He didn't care.

He was so cold.

He didn't remember half of the journey here. All he remembered was the desperate desire to just get away, his heart aching for the solitude he'd run from his entire life. He was had always been alone, but not lately. A part of him had begged to believe the companionship would last, and he'd actually let himself believe it would.

And yet, here he was.

Tetsuya had been here a pretty long time. It had been late evening when he came - almost night - dark and cold and starless, but also quiet and alone. The sun was rising behind him now, bright and colourful. It was still quiet, but he knew it wouldn't be in a little while when people came out of their houses and started their days.

He couldn't hear anything except the blood in his veins, the heart in his chest, the wind in ears, and so he didn't notice Akashi-kun when the boy came up beside him until he was at Tetsuya's shoulder, imposing presence and heterochromatic eyes (eyes he thought he hated) fixed on his face. He tensed, never looking at his face and half expectant of being berated. Akashi-kun did that a lot lately, he thought bitterly.

But the boy beside him merely sighed softly, taking Tetsuya's frozen fingers into his warm hand, and stood with him silently as the sun continued, unhindered, to rise, and it started to rain. The motion sent an odd thrill through him, made his cheeks feel just this side of warmer. He looked down at their entwined fingers, and noticed how much smaller his hand was, and how pale and almost translucent his skin was compared to the healthy flush on Akashi-kun's, and how delicate his hands were compared to Akashi-kun's. They didn't look like the hands of a basketball player, he thought, not like the redhead's strong, capable hands. A casual observer might only guess his chosen sport if they held it, like Akashi-kun did now, and felt the calluses along the skin of his palm and fingers where a basketball was regularly handled. The thought hurt an inordinate amount, but where once it would only have motivated him, now he merely felt resigned to it. He'd never be the player his peers were, no matter what he did, so what was the point? And yet, despite the thoughts he found he quite liked the warmth of the taller boy's hand in his.

Akashi-kun didn't say anything the whole time they stood there, not when the sun had well and truly cleared the horizon on its way up, nor on their way back down the hill they'd been standing on. Tetsuya hadn't bothered to book a room or made any such arrangements - his trip wasn't exactly planned, but Akashi-kun didn't let go of his hand and wordlessly led him to a hotel room, pushing him gently towards the bathroom before leaving again.

He spent a very long time in there, watching water and foam swirl between his toes and down the drain until his fingers pruned up. If he'd been home, the water would be cold by now, and he'd have been forced by that, if nothing else, to get out. As it was he didn't have to, because obviously any place Akashi-kun booked couldn't run out of hot water.

He blinked, surprised at the amount of venom in that thought, and frowned. He was angry. He didn't think he'd ever been this angry, but he'd also never been this sad, and he honestly hated feeling like this. The once gentle feelings of compassion and affection he'd felt for the other boy seemed to drown in the face of all his negative emotion, almost like it had never existed. It was horrible, and it made him want to do things that made him appalled at himself.

When he made his way back to the bedroom, there were clothes on the bed. A t-shirt, sweater and tracksuit bottoms, all brand new and of good quality.

Not his.

But even though a spiteful part of him wanted to ignore them, he had nothing else to wear as his clothes were still wet, so he put them on out of necessity, sitting down on the bed and staring out of the window blindly.

Why was he here? Or rather, why was Akashi-kun here? How'd he find him? Tetsuya hadn't given any notion that he was even leaving, never mind where to. That might've been because even he hadn't know he'd leave until he had.

An impromptu trip. Except, not really. Tetsuya had never been a spontaneous person. Usually, he liked familiarity and stuck to it, but today - or yesterday, he supposed - he'd felt suffocated. Home didn't feel as comforting as it usually did, but instead felt smothering, so he took a train and left. It wasn't like anybody would have missed him, and he wasn't leaving forever.

And then Akashi-kun was there.

And now Akashi-kun was walking back in, face emotionless and achingly handsome, taking his shoes off and walking straight to the bathroom that Tetsuya had recently vacated with barely a glance in his direction.

And Tetsuya didn't really care, or so he tried to convince himself. He was starting to feel the effects of staying up - and standing up - all night, and something else that made him feel exhausted all the way down to his bones. All he wanted at the moment was dreamless, rejuvenating sleep. He was just planning to lie down and let his mind wander off when there was a sharp knock on the door.

He sat for a second and looked at the door, uncomprehending, before getting up to open the door tentatively.

The woman smiled politely. "Room service?" she asked, voice artificially cheerful, except it wasn't really a question.

"Oh," he mumbled awkwardly. He stepped back and opened the door wider, and the woman, plastic smile still stuck to her face, wheeled the trolley in. Her lips were bright red, and her eyes a cold grey from where she surveyed him haughtily. The smile didn't drop from her face for an instant, but it didn't have to. Tetsuya knew what she was thinking, and he really didn't blame her. After all, what was a middle class student doing in such a high class hotel? He pretended not to notice though, and eventually she left, heels clicking smartly on the tiled hallway floor outside.

He close the door with a quiet click. Briefly, he entertained the idea of just leaving, wordlessly, but he knew he wouldn't. He had no plans, no ideas, no specific capacity for thought left in him. He was much too tired to even think, and not desperate or angry enough to brave it anyway.

It didn't mean he wanted to be here.

He left the trolley untouched as he went over to the bed closest to the wall. The room had two, which implied something about Akashi-kun and how he may have actually expected this outcome, but Kuroko didn't want to think on it, and instead let his head fall on the pillow with a huff, closing his eyes.

He was just drifting off lightly when the bathroom door opened again and soft footsteps padded out. He had his back to the door, facing the wall, so he felt no qualms about pretending to be asleep. And really, he was halfway there already, so he didn't think he was really lying.

Akashi-kun didn't seem like that idea.

In retrospect it was probably out of concern that Akashi-kun insisted on him waking to at least eat something, but Tetsuya had been unusually high-strung the entire day, and the mess with the finals hadn't eased his irrational fears, merely brought them to life with interest, so he didn't think anybody could blame him.

Nevertheless, it was completely out of the blue that Tetsuya suddenly felt all the anger return in one adrenalised rush, and he sat up and shouted at Akashi, who just stood there, face impassive.

"Leave me alone!" His voice was getting steadily louder. "Why won't you take the goddamned hint? Why can't you let me be, the one time I actually want you to? Why are you here? To gloat some more? Push your stupid ideas onto me? I. Don't. Care!" He took a deep, shuddering breath at this point, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Distantly, he realised he was crying, but he didn't care. What did it matter now?

Akashi still stood, unchanging, as if Tetsuya's hurt and anger didn't concern him, but Tetsuya knew he was lying to himself. He could see the tenseness in his arms, the anger in his stance. He could see Akashi-kun was upset, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Didn't want to care. Not right now. He was done caring, done being the nice guy who just gave and gave and gave, and maybe loved, and still expected naught in return.

Tetsuya was panting, and his vision was blurry with tears, but he was sure. He didn't care how tired he was anymore because at this point, he'd rather sleep in a park or something than here, with the boy he cared so much for but hated just a little more right now. He couldn't stay here, in this expensive, fancy hotel with his rich, asshole captain, and yes, that was a curse. He never cursed, but he didn't care. Maybe tomorrow he would flush and hide his face at the memory of his unruly behaviour but right now, it required too much energy. More than he had left to give. So he stood suddenly and pulled his damp jacket on, stuffing the rest of his clothes into his sports bag as quickly as he could. He had enough money for a train back, he could sleep then. He didn't know what he'd been thinking, convincing himself staying here was a good idea. This was the same guy who, only hours ago, killed his childhood friend's love for basketball and watched Tetsuya break down on the court with a smile. The same guy who'd called Aomine-kun a broken plate, the same guy who'd convinced them all that it was okay to play with people's feelings so long as they won, and Tetsuya was under no illusion in regards to where he stood, and that he wasn't considered one of those people. His feelings didn't matter, not to this boy, and he was so, so stupid to believe they ever had.

He left the room without looking at Akashi-kun again.

Akashi-kun didn't follow him, or call after him as he left. He walked straight to the train station, the sun a bright yellow low in the sky. The downpour had emptied the sky of all clouds, so it was blue and clear now, and the air smelled of damp soil and rainwater.

He barely looked up as he walked, unnoticed by the few businessmen who had an earlier start. It didn't take long for a train to arrive, and he made his way home in relative silence, lulled into a state of cold, uncomfortable half-sleep by the quiet chatter of early workers, and the soft rumbling of the moving train.

By the time he reached home, it was nearing rush hour, so he took as many alleyways and round-about routes as he could, to avoid any people. His entrance into the small house went unnoticed, and he didn't bother to change again as he fell into bed, face down. He fell asleep almost instantly, and didn't get up for the rest of the day.

It was late afternoon by the time he woke up again. He was still tired, but it wasn't a sleepy tiredness, more of a bone-deep weariness. He spent the next half hour making himself something to eat, and then sat in the armchair in the living room in complete silence. The lights were off, so he could see as the sunlight faded off the walls, and the room grew steadily darker.

When had he gotten mixed into this? Tetsuya may be many things, but stupid he was not. This whole mess with Akashi-kun and the cup finals, and not just him but everyone else too. Aomine-kun, Murasakibara-kun, and even Midorima-kun and Kise-kun. It wasn't just teenage angst, or hormones. This was an actual problem, and Tetsuya felt so out of depth it scared him. He'd felt like this before, but never to this extent, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

Perhaps, at one time, he'd have been desperate to help. He had been desperate to help, to heal whatever wounds his friends suffered in the best way he possibly could, to help them reach an understanding with themselves, but he'd failed so spectacularly and he was just so tired. A part of him, a horrible, poisonous part of him just didn't care anymore, and it was now, in the dark between sunset and night, that Tetsuya decided there was nothing he could do. He'd always been pathetic, and his skills had always left something to be desired, so what had made him think he could help here? It didn't matter how much he had absolutely loved basketball, breathed it. He was still rubbish at it, just like he was absolutely rubbish at being helpful. At being a friend.

And yes, he had loved basketball, but not anymore. He couldn't stand the thought now, the idea of the sport that had meant so much. It still did, but it wasn't pure anymore. It didn't fill him with the same unadorned, happy exhaustion anymore; it didn't make him feel like he was part of something bigger, something so beautiful and whole and flawless - not anymore. It was that thought, the thought that it could never really be that again, that filled him with such hopelessness that the mere thought of the sport seemed abhorrent to him now. And Tetsuya could only admit that he hated them all for ruining that, and that he despised basketball for taking the only friends he had known away from him.

He hadn't seen them for a while now. He had missed more days of school than ever before and the few days he was present, he hadn't bothered to attend practice. Then again, he didn't even know if practice was even running these days. For all he knew, all the third years had abandoned practice now that they'd won their competition, and were busy with more important things. He would have been shocked at the bitterness in those thoughts, at some point, but he wasn't anymore. He'd been having these thoughts for days now.

As always, he walked unnoticed down the mostly empty halls. The classroom, when he entered, was lit, but for some reason it still seemed dark to his eyes. They were all there - of course they were - standing, relaxed, around the room, and Akashi-kun in front of the table, firm arms crossed across his chest and a proud visage looking down at him. He'd never felt so small.

There was only one chair, and though Tetsuya didn't really want to sit, he did for fear that he might end up falling during this conversation if he didn't. They were all silent for a long while before Tetsuya spoke, and when he did, his voice was deceptively calm.

"Why did you do it?" he asked. Akashi-kun didn't move, and his facial expression didn't change. He started talking, too many words and too much arrogance, and Tetsuya felt himself growing angrier. He tried to interrupt at some point, demand a satisfying answer. The red haired boy in front of him shut him up pretty fast, like so many other people. Then there was more talking, Kise-kun and his sweet, sweet words and he didn't need it, didn't need him or Murasakibara-kun and Midorima-kun and their uncaring attitude because who did they think they were? Aomine-kun, oh, what a tragedy, a boy who made mountains out of molehills and who gave him the right to treat anybody like they were worth any less than you? Like their wants and thoughts and hopes and dreams didn't matter? Akashi-kun and his obsessions and aggressive gaze, so high and mighty and who died and made you God?

And he was so incredibly angry, wanted to scream these words into their stunned, dumb faces, but he didn't let it show. 'Keep your emotions under control, Tetsuya' and 'don't let them see you', did Akashi-kun really think he was the first to ask that of him? Perhaps he'd imagined himself above them all even then, perhaps he'd never thought Tetsuya could possibly feel like this about him, for him, and keep himself under control even then.

"I never want to feel like that again," Tetsuya said. There was buzzing in his ears, and it almost drowned out any other sounds. He felt hot everywhere, like he was burning up. There were words and eyes on him but he couldn't focus anymore, and he felt so exhausted, as if he'd run miles for days in the sun.

"I'm quitting basketball," he said, and with those words, washed his proverbial hands off them. He didn't want anything to do with them, after this. He never wanted anything to do with basketball after this, either.

He made to get up, and in the process looked Akashi-kun in the eye. He wasn't sure what emotion was there, not relief or anger or even righteousness, but an unfathomable regret, and perhaps even sadness. Once, he thought. Once, I might have wondered, and even asked.

He turned his back on them. Not anymore.

Nobody followed him out.