Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket
Warning/s: Unbeta'ed. Awkward grammar.
Title: *Schattenwelt
Summary: When you are an extraordinary gifted child, everything you do demands perfection with sky-scraping expectations. But for Kuroko Tetsuya, you are just you. "We are not defined by our abilities. Well, at least not until we allow them to define us." His nonchalant way of putting things makes him so annoyingly endearing and quite hard to resist—even with that equally exasperating perpetual poker face of his and gratuitous smartass remarks . A series of interrelated one-shots. GoM, Kuroko, Kagami.
Beginnings
"If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time,
could I wake up as a different person?"
— Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club
This is ridiculous.
Shintarou Midorima, aged ten, thought as he blandly watched his new classmates wiggle their butts just like what their nutty teacher had said.
"Alright, kids! Raise your hands in the air! Then, squirm!"
Midorima almost rolled his green eyes in exasperation.
"Breaking the ice!" he shouted again and Midorima had to stop himself from going in front to break his nose.
"Wiggle, everybody!"
He was now itching to wiggle his way out of the room and just go home.
If not only for his mother, he would never set foot in this atrocious class and be stupid for the rest of the school year.
"You need to go out more and play. You need to meet other kids and make new friends, Shin-chan."
If meeting new friends meant wiggling his butt for one whole year, then, thanks but no thanks. He would rather play in his computer and PSP than be brainless and dim-witted just like everybody here.
Why are they even following him? He irritatingly thought.
Fortunately, he was sitting at the left corner on the back, away from his horrifying advisor. But it didn't actually spare him from hearing and seeing the hellish start his school year.
Midorima sighed.
He guessed he didn't really have much choice right now. Not when he was still a kid even if he was a little taller than other kids his age. Whether he liked it or not, he would be seeing this crowd for a year.
He was just hoping he would still be alive when the year ended.
"Now, raise your butts in the air!" the nutty teacher in front exclaimed so enthusiastically, like he knew what exactly Midorima was thinking right now and he was trying to exterminate him by royally pissing him off.
Or at least me die peacefully, he grimly thought.
He tried his best to ignore the appalling teacher and looked down on his feet.
There, settling beside his chair was a small teddy bear wearing a Hawaii costume.
A small smile lit on his face, and all the annoying sounds buzzing inside his ears suddenly vanished in the thin air just like magic.
Thank god I brought my lucky item today.
..
"I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!" Ryouta Kise, aged nine years and three months, shouted as he tearfully banged his yellow head on the car's headrest. "I'm late because of you, mother!"
His mother, a beautiful blonde woman, tried to cajole him by ruffling his hair and planting kisses on his forehead.
"I'm really sorry, dear. I promise I will call the school and explain to them what happened. Don't cry anymore," she said, her voice was apologetic. She was a top-notch lawyer in Tokyo and she was on his way to Yokohama that morning for another trial. She hated leaving him alone in their house with no one but their two helpers to look after him, but she had no choice but to agree since his father, a famous businessman, was currently busy in Hawaii for an official business trip.
Kise bit his lips as tried to calm himself.
Now, let us get this one straight: He, Ryouta Kise wasn't really a brat – no. His parents raised him to be a levelheaded kid who knew his boundaries and his place. They also made sure that Ryouta understood that being well-off didn't mean he could get anything he wanted without working hard for it. He was a jovial, kind kid who loved showering other people with his smiles and his boundless energy even if they were... err... unwarranted most of the times.
But why was he throwing some nasty crabbiness that morning?
Here's why:
It was the first day of the school.
And he was already late for two hours.
The first two hours where the teacher calls each students in front to introduce themselves to their fellow classmates and get to know each other?
Yes.
That first two hours.
Ryouta sniffed, hiccupping. His lips trembled in such an unpleasant way before he wretchedly wailed again startling his mother and their driver.
Ah. Yes.
It was official.
He, Ryouta Kise, just missed the most important two hours of the first day of school.
..
Murasakibara Atsushi, aged nine years and eleven months, munched the chips in his mouth as he watched the other kids in front of him oddly danced. His droopy eyes were following their butts ridiculously hanging in the air.
And they were all giggling as if they were all listening to some hush-hush joke.
Their teacher said something about 'breaking the ice' and the stupid dance was indeed breaking something inside the classroom.
Murasakibara continued chewing.
He was sitting on the right corner at the back of the classroom and it allowed him to clearly see everyone—as well as the weird teacher in front who seemed to be having so much fun seeing his students literally squirm on the first day of the school.
It was fun watching them but he was actually waiting for the introductions, mind you. He was, in fact, incredibly prepared in reciting his short introductory remarks in front of everyone.
But it seemed that this odd dancing facade would continue until the first half of the day for some unfathomable reasons.
His teacher was saying something like, 'breaking the ice' or somewhere along those lines.
His droopy eyes moved on every wiggling back, watching carefully, while munching his chips. He saw a chubby girl panting while trying to reach her toes. A boy that looked like he was having some kind of a seizure, and another boy who looked like the late Michael Jackson wiggling while doing the artist's famous move, 'moonwalk'.
He could also see the green haired boy wearing an eyeglasses staring murderously at the teacher in front while visibly grinding his teeth.
They were all so entertaining to watch—especially the green haired fella on the left corner at the back. He looked smarter and older than his age and grimace he had been wearing since the class started was starting to get worse.
He wasn't small like the other boys in the classroom but Murasakibara was sure that he was still taller than him.
His eyes went back to the oblivious grimacing boy and smirked.
Sitting at the back really had its own perks, he thought, plunging another set of chips in his mouth again.
Well, he had tried sitting in front when he first came here an hour ago, but the teacher politely asked him to sit at the back which he just graciously followed. He didn't know why, but since he was little, he had always been asked to sit at the further part of the room to 'avoid inconveniencing others', as the adults put it.
He was sure it had something to do with him being so unbelievably tall for his age, hindering his classmates with average heights to participate normally in class discussions because he was literally blocking their view whenever he was sitting on front.
Well, he had no problems about sitting at the back anyway (he very much liked it, in fact) because it allowed him to eat anytime as he pleased.
It allowed him to observe other people, too, and to be familiar with them without actually talking to them. Besides, it was not as if they would talk to him—them initiating the conversation first, at least and this, he guessed, had something to do with his intimidating height again.
It was always the other way around.
He would always be the one who would initiate a conversation and that was the only time that people would talk to him. Well, he wasn't really trying to make friends with them. Rather, he just personally wanted to know if they were actually worth his efforts (or if he/she was worth knowing) which, unfortunately, the answer had always, always been a 'no'.
At an early age, he already knew that he didn't need any friends or anyone at all, to be happy.
He just needed one thing.
Murasakibara licked his lips as he stared down at the bag of chips settling in his hands. He grimaced when he realized that it was almost gone. He rummaged his purple bag pack under his chair and grinned when he saw at least five bags of chips and lots candies and chocolates inside, mingling with his notebooks and pencils.
He grabbed a candy and unwrapped it before he put it inside his mouth.
Whoever invented food was a freaking genius, really.
..
"Dai-chaaaaan! We're gonna be late!" Satsuki Momoi, aged nine years and three months, banged the door of her childhood friend's room, Aomine Daiki, with her small fists.
"Go tell him that, Momoi-chan. I can't even handle that brat myself. Where is the cute Dai-chan I used to shower kisses before he goes to be How's your mother by the way? Is she doing well?"
"You've just talked to her few minutes ago, Oji-san," she said, rolling her eyes.
"H-hahahaha... Is that so?"
She ignored Aomine's father and focused again on knocking on the door.
She was determined to go to school with Daiki!
It was the first day of the school after all.
"Dai-chan!" she called out again.
Momoi hissed in frustration when there was still no reply from her childhood friend. It was, in fact, eerily silent inside the room and Aomine Daiki was a very loud snorer.
It was just kind of... weird.
Momoi turned around and glared at Aomine's old man who was still sprouting some nonsense about her mother. "Why are you letting him lock his door, Oji-san?!" she asked, noticeably annoyed.
Aomine's father stepped back and blinked. "Err... he said he wanted some space and... uh..."
Momoi's glare intensified. "And what?"
The old man sighed, resignation was imminent in his eyes. "I think you should go to school now, Momoi-chan. Daiki isn't here anymore. He...uh... already left thirty minutes ago."
"WHAT?!"
"Sorry, Momoi-chan. But Daiki threatened me. He said he would not talk to me anymore if I say anything to you. So, please! Don't tell my son!"
Satsuki Momoi walked towards the remorseful man and with all her might stomped on his left foot with her new black shoes, sending the poor father of Aomine into the fifth gate of hell.
"Do not come to our house again, you stupid, stupid Oyaji! I hate you!" she shouted, running away.
"But I have a date with your mother tomorrow, Momoi-chan!"
"I don't care!" the pink haired cried as she slammed the door shut.
The man cradled his aching foot and sighed. He was seriously beginning to be afraid of his son's influence on the sweet pink haired girl.
He looked at his left foot and shook his head. He was sure it would be a little swollen tomorrow.
He shivered.
"It's frightening how she is slowly beginning to look like a female version of Daiki."
..
Aomine Daiki, aged ten, yawned as he trudged the road to his new school. He scratched his cheeks as he dryly stared at the overly exciting kids cheerfully talking and laughing as they walked on the other side of the road with their unbelievably huge bag packs perched on their shoulders.
Aomine squinted his eyes in irritation and yawned again. The sun was so cheerfully shining in the sky, too, and this, together with the annoying noises coming from that group of simple-minded idiots, were now slowly getting on his nerves.
Because of Momoi, he had to wake up early that day and go to school one hour earlier than he originally intended. He seriously didn't want to get caught hanging out with a girl (even if the said girl was his childhood friend) in the first day of the school because that would ruin his chances on getting a hot girl (or girls, if he were a little bit lucky) this year.
They would definitely think that he was already taken, or something stupid like that.
He decided to take the longest route to his new school to avoid the frustrating energized and animated chattering of the students walking to school that morning.
Aomine turned around in a corner and started walking away from the main road.
Suddenly, after walking for a few minutes, everything looked different.
It was the first time he had been in this side of the town even if he had been practically living here almost all his life. Aomine was the kind of boy who actually enjoyed being home stuck rather than spending his time outside, exploring the neighborhood.
As long as he could play basketball, he didn't really need anything. Fortunately, his father was also a basketball buff and maybe (just like what Momoi would always say to him, even if Aomine was always so against in hearing it) he inherited his passion for the sport from his father.
He was about to turned around again to another corner when he suddenly felt something weird on his feet. Aomine looked down and he jumped in surprise when he saw a ghostly, pale arm under his left foot and a soft-looking azure hair under his right foot.
Aomine felt his heart wallop in an unbelievably fast manner inside his chest that he thought he was having a cardiac arrest.
It was a ghost! He cried, turning pale. A freaking blue-haired ghost!
Then he stopped.
Wait.
Still trembling, he mustered his courage to look at it carefully and sighed in relief when he realized how stupid his train of thought was.
Of course it was just a freaking human! He thought, sighing. It was a boy, maybe a few years younger than him, slumped on the corner of the street, blood was freely gushing from his temple and—
Aomine's eyes widened.
"Holy shit—hey!" he immediately held the boy's wrist (which was so incredibly thin much to Aomine's astonishment) and he sighed when felt a pulse there, albeit almost non-existent. He also made sure that he was still breathing as he hovered a hand on the boy's nose. When he was sure that what he had in front of him was a living human being, he immediately lifted (Gently, gently... damn! He wasn't used being gentle with anyone!) the 'body' and carefully checked his vital signs.
It seemed that the only injury was the on his head.
He was about to lift the boy off the ground when he noticed a bike not too far away from the boy, crashed on a nearby wall.
It was not totally wrecked, but it was not looking good either and Aomine would never ride a bike like that even if he someone offered him a million yen.
Aomine shook his head knowingly. He had now a vague idea as to what happened to this stranger.
Sighing, he decided to take him to a nearby clinic, completely forgetting about school.
When he was about to sling those thin arms on his back, he felt a slight push of protest from the supposedly unconscious body that made Aomine swung his head on his back—
Deep set of cerulean eyes stared at him for almost an eternity and Aomine felt like he was staring at the sky itself, pulling him into an almost relaxing coma-state.
"You alright?" he asked after he shook his head, castigating himself for staring far too long.
The boy nodded and bowed as he tried to stand.
Aomine instantly held him on his elbow and scowled. "You're bleeding, you know."
"Yeah. I can feel it," the shorter boy said, bringing his pale hand on his temple and touching the source of the blood there. "I hit my head on the wall when I fell. But please don't worry. I'm fine."
Fine, my ass. You look like you are about to fall again on your knees again.
Aomine pointed out the bike on the ground. "That's yours, right?"
"Yeah."
"How did you fell?"
"A black car hit me."
"In the middle of the street?—"
"I was on the right side of the street. I think he didn't notice me, that's all."
Aomine scowled. "And he didn't even stop to help you?"
That was obviously a hit and run case.
He gritted his teeth. So, there were still people like that, huh.
"I told you, he didn't notice me."
Aomine's scowl deepened.
What did he mean by he didn't notice me crap?
Was that even possible?
He was about to ask when the boy started to wobbly walked towards the fallen bike while wiping his bloodied forehead using his soiled shirt.
Aomine got to his feet and followed the shorter boy.
"Hey, there's a clinic nearby. I think you should have that checked," he casually said, hoping he would ask for his help. "You don't want that to be infected. It could get pretty nasty, believe me."
There was something unsettling about the boy that Aomine just couldn't quite put a finger on.
Maybe it was because the blood he had on his face right now.
Blood was always a disconcerting thing to see.
"Yes. I will do that," the blue haired kid said. "Thank you very much for helping me," he bowed again before he slowly pushed his bike away.
Then, he stopped and looked back at him again.
Something skipped inside Aomine.
Maybe the boy was just being shy and now that he realized that looking for the clinic by himself would prove more trouble than it's worth, so decided it would be far more rational to ask him who seemed like he very much knew the neighborhood.
Well, alright. Not really. But at least he was living within the area, right?
The unexpected glee that Aomine felt was immediately masked by his laid-back expression. "I can accompany you there, if you wan—"
"I hope you don't mind my asking, but what's the name of your school?" the boy asked.
Huh?
Aomine blinked.
The blue haired boy repeated his question again and Aomine nodded upon understanding it. He answered it monotonously; not really understanding what was happening until the boy said his thanks and bid him goodbye.
This time, he did not look back again.
Will he really be alright?
Aomine, after staring for God knew how long at the now deserted alley, scratched his head, and grinned to himself.
What a weird guy, he thought and yawned.
..
**"Where is that idiot?" A ten-year-old red haired boy growled as he sat in the waiting area inside the airport. His father was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe still throwing up somewhere.
He felt a quiet buzz inside his pocket.
He took his phone out and grimaced when he saw who the caller was.
**"Kuroko," Kagami Taiga said, glowering.
"Kagami-kun."
**"Where have you been?"
"Speak in Japanese. You are not in America anymore."
Kagami clicked his tongue in irritation. "Where are you, Kuroko?"
"I'm almost there. Where are you now exactly?"
"In the passengers waiting area," he said.
"I'll be there shortly. Where's Oji-san?"
Kagami shrugged his shoulders. "Somewhere I don't know. He went missing right after we landed."
There was no response but he waited patiently. If Kagami didn't know the person he was talking to right now, he would have thought that the call was already abandoned.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Kagami-kun."
The red haired boy flushed a little. He brushed away the strands of hair brushing on his nose with his fingers and muttered, "Just hurry up, alright?"
"Uhn."
Kagami ended the call and sat, sighing. Being away in Japan for five years sure was weird. There were just so many things he didn't understand now but he was confident that after a few weeks, he would be back on track again.
He didn't really stop speaking in Japanese in America. In fact, their family always conversed in Japanese at home, much to his father's glee. He was a fan of Gundam Wing (an Otaku, as what his mother fondly calls him) since he was a child that was why when he graduated in college, he asked his parents to let him go to Japan for half a year as a graduation gift.
And that was when he met his mother.
They said it was whirlwind romance.
His mother, a pure Japanese woman who migrated in USA when she married his father, was so keen in making sure Kagami won't grow up without knowing the beautiful country of Japan and its culture and unique traditions. Kagami was born in America but after a year, his parents decided to send him to Japan under the care his maternal grandparents.
They said it was for him to experience the authentic Japanese culture.
Kagami scoffed and said that the only reason he was sent to Japan was because they wanted to extend their honeymoon.
He was really only teasing when he first said that.
Then, they blushed.
Kagami stared at them incredulously. 'It was freaking true, then?'
They just remained silent, refusing to meet his eyes.
Kagami face-palmed.
It became a running joke in their family afterwards much to his parents' dismay.
..
He was already five years old when he left the country of his mother and now, he was back again.
He was about to call his father's phone to tell him that Kuroko was already nearby when he heard a strange commotion in the entrance. He could hear the women's worried and horrified outcries and the men's vague voices saying something he couldn't really understand. Some waiting passengers also heard the uproar outside and were now curiously stealing glances in the entrance.
Kagami was inquisitively looking, too, when his eyes caught something amidst the clamor.
Sapphire colored hair.
"Kuroko!" he shouted, running towards the entrance. He was so sure it was Kuroko!
"Excuse me. Excuse me," he said, trying to get passed the line of curious bystanders.
And that was when he saw him;
Well, he was the same Kuroko he knew before; small body frame, thin neck, arms, and legs, and that set of unexpressive cerulean eyes. It was so astonishing at how time did not change Kuroko that much for the last five years that they did not see each other.
It was indeed Kuroko Tetsuya, his childhood friend.
And right now, his face was horridly soaked in blood.
It looked (the face) so horrifying that Kagami couldn't move from where he was standing.
Those blue orbs found him. Kuroko waved to him and walked towards his direction.
"Kagami-kun. Long time no see." Kuroko said in a deadpanned tone. "You've grown."
But the words of the shorter boy were drowned in the hysterical voices of the people around them.
"Oh my God! Somebody go get a stretcher!"
"Call an ambulance! Hurry!"
"What happened to you, kid?"
"Are you alright?"
"There is so much blood!"
Kuroko raised his left arm, silencing the commotion inside the airport.
Kagami felt his breath hitched, too.
"Thank you so much for worrying about me, sirs, madams, but I'm fine," he slowly said with a poker face. "This is just tomato ketchup that unfortunately splashed on my face on my way here."
In an instant, Kagami was already in front of Kuroko, sniffing his face.
"What are you doing, Kagami-kun?"
Kagami ignored the slight protest of the childhood friend and licked the tomato sauce under Kuroko's eyes.
His eyes widened—
This is not a tomato sauce!
He lifted his hand and grabbed Kuroko's raised arm. "W-what happened to you?" he shakily asked.
"I fell, Kagami-kun," Kuroko said in a low voice. "But don't worry, I'm fine."
Fine? He dubiously thought as he stared at the boy's bloodied face.
"Hospital," he lowly muttered, almost to himself.
Kuroko blinked. "No need, Kagami-kun—"
"WE ARE GOING TO HOSPITAL! HEY! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE, PLEASE!"
The startled people surrounding began scattering away and the available personnel in the airport immediately called for help.
Kuroko frowned. "Stop it, Kagami-kun. I'm really fine."
"Shut up," Kagami growled as he began searching for his handkerchief inside his pockets. He cursed when he realized that he left the damn thing on his bag pack back at the baggage station.
He helplessly stared at Kuroko, who was just blankly staring at him, too.
Damn it!
He took his sweater off and leaned closer to his friend. He gently tried to wipe the blood on Kuroko's face and he gritted his teeth when he realized that the blood was already crusting.
That means it had been on his face for quite some time now.
Frustrated, he pushed down the blue haired kid's head and searched for the wound. It must be big, given the amount of blood on Kuroko's face.
After a few seconds, he finally found it.
It was kind of small than what he originally expected, but it was still a freaking wound and there was nothing to be happy about it.
There were also dried blood sticking on his hair and some of it trickled down his neck.
"What happened, Kuroko?" he asked again, much softer this time.
"I already told you. I fell."
"You fell from where?" Frustration was now slowly creeping on Kagami's head and it felt so annoyingly familiar.
"From my bike," said Kuroko with the same blank facial expression.
Did he ride a bike from their house to here?
"Does your head feel funny? Are you dizzy?"
"I'm a bit dizzy when I woke up, but I'm fine."
He could be having a concussion.
Kagami bit his lips. He looked around, hoping to see his father but he was still nowhere to be seen.
He felt his knees shaking.
The last straw was when Kuroko put a hand on his face and tapped him on his shoulder.
The hand was cold but oddly enough, it felt warm enough on his skin.
"Okaeri, Kagami-kun," he said with a little smile.
Kagami looked away. "T-tadaima."
"I'm a little sleepy, Kagami-kun..."
Kagami's eyes widened. His head swung back to his childhood friend, panicking.
"N-No! Shit! Don't sleep, Kuroko!"
The shorter boy wobbled. "Sleepy..." he muttered again, eyes were half closing.
"Don't!" Kagami caught Kuroko right before he fell and began slapping his face. "Fight it! Oi!"
Kagami's worry escalated when Kuroko's eyes finally closed.
He clenched his teeth—
He really didn't want to do this.
But if this would make Kuroko stay awake until the goddamn ambulance came, then so be it.
Eyes tightly closed, Kagami shouted; "DON'T SLEEP, YOU LOUSY BASKETBALL PLAYER!"
His eyes remained closed until he felt a pang of pain on his cheeks.
He almost cried in relief when he saw Kuroko's deadpanned gaze locked on him again, his two pale fingers were agonizingly pinching his cheek.
"That hurt, Kagami-kun."
"What, you think this doesn't hurt?" Kagami scoffed, referring to his cheek that was still being firmly assailed by Kuroko.
"You deserve it, asshole."
"Whatever. Just don't sleep, baka."
"I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I want to. At least not until I obliterate this godforsaken face."
"H-Hey!"
TBC
*Schattenwelt (roughly means, shadowy world)
**Kagami speaking in English
Omake
Midorima: We are not friends!
Murasakibara: Then what are we?
Midorima: We are... acquaintances.
Murasakibara: *munching*
Midorima: ...
Murasakibara: *munching*
Midorima: ...
Murasakibara: *munching*
Midorima: I hope that is clear to you.
Murasakibara: *munching*
Midorima: Good. *walks away*
Kuroko: Midorima-kun and Murasakibara-kun really do understand each other. They can even talk without even talking at all. There is a mutual understanding. Ah. Ah. The beauty of homoero-ero-ero-ero-ero—what is this word, Kise-kun?
Kise: CUT!
Let's see, Kurokocchi...
The script here should be, "Ah! Ah! The beauty of friendship is really a wonderful thing!"
This is wrong.
*looks around* Hey! Who gave him the wrong script?!
*looks back to Kuroko* Where did you get this paper, Kurokocchi?"
Kuroko: Someone just gave it to me—
Momo: ARGHHH! NOooo~! Where did you get that, Tetsu-kun?! That is mine!
Aomine: *evilly laughing at one corner*
Midorima: That is so childish, Aomine.
Murasakibara: *munching*
Author's rant slash information corner:
*Blinks* Eh? Already done? *Yawn* That was fast.
Alright. Let's get down to business, shall we?
This is my first fic in KuroBas fandom. As a newbie writer, I am humbly asking for your patient and understanding.
As you can see, I was not even lucid when I was writing this story. But there will be more chapters to come, that's for sure – hopefully next week, but I won't promise anything. The next chapters won't be this long though (maybe) since I am a very unorganized and inconsistent kind of person. Well, just tell me if you want me to continue this and if not, I can just end it in another chapter or two or whatever fits my diabolic schedule and lifestyle. Point is, everything will depend on the story's feedbacks and whatnots.
Thank you for reading!
Don't forget to review!