A/N at the bottom.
It has reached that point.
It as in the illness that was slowly taking over Akashi's life.
To the point where Akashi's not even able to walk anymore, confined to the small, rectangular space of a hospital bed.
To say that Akashi isn't happy is an understatement. In the normally strong and heterochromic eyes is now rage, desperation, and maybe, the smallest hint of resignation. Bright, flaring and glowing garnet and golden eyes are reduced to a dull bronze and scarlet, the flame in it has long since flickered and died out, like a candle in the wind.
Once the emperor of Teiko and Rakuzan, he was now a shadow of what he used to be, the remnants of the king who's fallen out of his throne.
Kuroko knew he doesn't want visitors; doesn't want anyone to see him in this state, doesn't want anyone to see the shell of what he used to be. But he stepped in, anyway.
"Good morning, Akashi-kun."
The aforementioned redhead merely turns his head; or rather, mechanically rotated it to look at Kuroko, seemingly trying to muster dignity and try to pull himself together.
"Tetsuya." he greeted him, voice empty of the usual air of superiority that came with every single word or action that he says, aura of confidence and strength weakly flickering in an attempt to piece back a resemblance of himself from the days of old.
Kuroko did not say anything else, simply making his way to Akashi's bedside.
"It's snowing." he said.
Like the day you (I) decide to disband the Generation of Miracles goes off in both their heads at the words.
Like the day you collapsed.
Like the day I was carried here and told that I won't ever be able to play basketball anymore.
It's a conversation shared merely through eye contact. Both pairs of lips stretched upwards to form a smile; not genuine, but for the lack of a better response.
"How are you doing, Akashi-kun?"
Will you be here tomorrow, Akashi-kun?
"Like I always have been, Tetsuya."
I can not promise you anything and you know that, Tetsuya.
Kuroko sighed, sitting beside the bed. The pockets of silence widened as they fell into it, the only thing keeping it from widening being the chorus of beeping from the various hospital equipments keeping the redhead's heart beating, slowing down the illness and keeping it at bay.
Both pairs of eyes stared at the slowly drifting snow from the small patch of a window on the wall, at the ethereal, aesthetically-pleasing blanket of white.
It's synchronized.
It's as if the white outside is stitched together with the broken gloomy white of the hospital interior. Be it the curtains, walls, beds or the tiles on the floor, the white was broken only by the criss-crossing lines on the tiles and the dash of metal and plastic of the equipments.
Similar, yet contrasting.
Kuroko turned to look at Akashi, and ceruleans met red and yellow.
He then leaned forward and gripped onto the edges of Akashi's hospital gown, as if the action would keep Akashi there, as if digging his fingers into the smooth and (also) white piece of garment would keep the redhead rooted to the world.
Don't go.
Akashi too caught the message of the action, but he did nothing more than simply staring at the hand on his clothes. He neither knocked the hand away nor pulled the hand closer to him.
He merely stared at the hand, and that was how it was until visitor's time was up and Kuroko had to leave.
In retrospect, maybe he should have pulled the hand closer to him at that time, Akashi mused as nurses and doctors all shouted orders and affirmations, the cacophony of noises blending together with the wild, erratic beep of the monitors attached to him.
Red and golden eyes slid shut as an apology formed but not voiced on his lips to a person who wasn't present at that moment in time.
And as the snow melted, just outside the same window...
-Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep-
...so did the life of someone who once stood over the world.
I haven't written since forever, and well. I'm back. For a bit.
This is my first fanfiction for Kuroko no Basuke. Do leave a review.
-Saki