Title: if tomorrow never comes
Summary: AU Noragami-universe. Kuroo and Oikawa suspended in midair. God!Oikawa Shinki!Kuroo
Warning: Lots of cussing~

"I live. I die. I live again."

The first time—he thinks—the first time is always the hardest. The second time burns the same, the third and forth time feel like a whirlwind of emotion and physical pain, and the fifth time reopens the wound into a gaping hole.

"You look like shit, Kuroo-chan."

Had it not been for morbidity of it all, Kuroo might've even spared a laugh, "Speak for yourself, dipshit."

The sight isn't completely new or unexpected. After all, Oikawa had no qualms with overstepping his own limits. And today is no exception.

Now, he's lying on the marble floor of his kitchen, bleeding his insides out. When he realizes the severity of the situation, Kuroo collapses to the ground too, trying hard to catch his breath. The truth is, he looks almost as tattered and broken as Oikawa.

This isn't the first time, of course, but it's certainly the most gruesome.

Oikawa, The God of Discord, has all sorts of wounds littered over his body, some running deeper than others. Either way, and Kuroo knows this better than anybody, it's too late.

"Stupid…useless shinki," Oikawa sneers.

At the sound of his title, Kuroo frowns, and sends a kick to the side of Oikawa's head, "Just for putting me through this shit, I hope you die again, asshole." A lie, of course.

"Doesn't matter," the god replies, almost indifferently—staring up at the cracked glass ceilings. "I'll just be reborn."

The stars are spinning.

Kuroo clenches his fists and watches the last bit of shine vanish from Oikawa's dull brown eyes. He dies with a smile on his face.

"Kuroo-san~"

"Oi, don't address me like that," Kuroo snaps, stepping into the open garden behind the grand estate. "It's creepy and unlike you."

"Unlike me?" Ten-year-old Oikawa peers up curiously, tugging at the hem of Kuroo's plain white t-shirt. "Then what should I call you?"

"Kuroo is fine."

"What about Kuroo-chan?" Oikawa smiles.

The shinki twitches, a frown forming on his face as he spins around to meet Oikawa's curious gaze, "You're not nearly old enough to call me that yet, moyashi."

The corners of Oikawa's lips dip down to form a grimace, "How come I grow older but you don't, Kuroo?"

"Because I'm your shinki," Kuroo tells him nonchalantly, "and you're a god."

Realization slowly dawns on Oikawa's face as they enter the carnation gardens. Kuroo takes a seat next to a particularly shady bush, lying flat on his back. Reluctantly, the younger god follows suit, taking a seat next to his shinki. He hugs his knees to his chest and stares ahead anxiously.

"How did I die in my last life, Kuroo?"

The shinki snorts, closing his eyes, "Use your brain, moyashi."

"I can't remember things that happened in my past reincarnation," the young god tells him, knitting his brows in agitation.

Kuroo just turns on his side, ripping out a couple strands of grass and letting them fall against the breeze, "It won't help you if you know."

Young Oikawa stares thoughtfully at Kuroo's back, "Fine. Then I have another question."

A grunt, "What is it now?"

"Can a shinki hurt its master?"

At some point, Oikawa reaches his final set age at 22. And he looks like every penny's worth.

Handsome, dignified, and slightly more built than his previous reincarnations. Kuroo marvels at the transformation. Despite his jadedness, he finds it almost endearing to watch the God of Discord grow up right before his eyes.

But something feels different this time around, although Kuroo can't quite put his finger on it.

He glances at the lining of Oikawa's shoulders, the way his muscles ripple against his white button-down, the way his eyes glaze ever-so-slightly over the paper of notes he's holding, and the way he breathes—an almost erratic rhythm.

"This is boooooring," Oikawa whines, pushing away the stack of unfinished paperwork. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Nope, the shinki thinks to himself, nothing's changed at all.

With eyes half-lidded, Kuroo stares outside the window of Oikawa's office at the blooming flowers in the distance.

"Weather's nice," he offers calmly. "Could go for a walk."

"What a fantastic idea! I knew you were my favorite for a reason," Oikawa coos, grabbing his shinki by the wrist. "Let's go, Kuroo-chan~"

Instinctively, Kuroo flinches, shaking off Oikawa's grip. Unable to mask the furious blush on his cheeks, he takes a step back, "Oi—don't think that you can just—"

Before he can finish his train of thought, he's dragged out the office door by the collar of his shirt.

"I'm not your pet cat, moyashi!"

"You never did tell me the reason why I died," Oikawa states.

The God of Discord and his shinki enter the field of carnations from the flattened pathway.

With eyes half-lidded, Oikawa grabs a rather pretty red carnation and plucks it straight from the stem. He observes it with indifference before ripping each petal off without much thought, noting how strangely effortless it was to tear the flower down to nothing.

Kuroo snorts, "I told you to use that stupid brain of yours."

A tick mark of irritation forms on the side of Oikawa's head, "Is that any way to be addressing your master?"

His shinki only relishes in his discomfort and irritation, which causes Oikawa to crush the remains of the carnation in the palm of his hands. When he releases his grip, the majority of the petals float to the ground, while some stick to the spaces between his fingers, bruised and ripped.

Kuroo notices and takes a seat on the ground, lying down flat on his back. The hem of his t-shirt lifts to reveal the slightest bit of skin and Oikawa catches sight of a rather old scar underneath his hipbone.

"You ask me that same damn question every time you're reborn," Kuroo tells him. "It never changes anything. You die anyway."

Oikawa considers this for a moment before conceding, "Then what was I like in my last life?"

"The same as every other one of your lives," Kuroo doesn't hesitate. "Annoying."

Oikawa owns countless shinki, but Kuroo is by far his most trusted—his strongest shinki.

His weaponized form is a pair of twin daggers, a weapon that takes the God of Discord time to master. But once he does, there is no one stronger than he is. Strength, power, and destruction—they're tools that Oikawa has at his disposal to conquer the world and rule it as his own.

But he couldn't care less.

How did I die?

Kuroo breathes, closes his eyes, and starts to count down.

Can a shinki hurt its master?

Five.

Not again he thinks please not again.

"Can a shinki kill its god?" Oikawa asks.

Four.

The stars are spinning tonight.

Kuroo meets his gaze, "Yes."

Three.

Then.

"Is that why I died in my last life?" Oikawa smiles. "Because I was unable to defeat you?"

Kuroo stares up at the sky, "Don't do this."

A pause.

Can a shinki hurt its master?

A single tear slips down the side of his face, "Don't, moyashi."

Two.

Oikawa stares at the red carnations; smiles.

One.

The carnations are laughing, Kuroo thinks, and their laughter might've been the most bitter. He watches as Oikawa readies his stance, and summons his shinki that takes the form of a katana, Iwa.

Time's up.

note: Not sure if a shinki can actually kill its god but suspend your disbelief pls.. Kuroo is op Dx also, this is a belated Christmas present for Ania~ I'm sorry I'm so late, and I'm sorry this was ass, but I rly wanted to write some Oikuroo for you :( ILY!