KnB Animals' Instincts
Disclaimers: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke
Warnings: This fiction in no way supports the killing of animals and the like so please don't take offense. The story came as a crazy idea as I was chatting with my friends about 'animal instincts' and I was like, 'you know what, I'm going to write out this crazy idea' and whoosh, this story was born.
Contrary to the belief that some individuals are born with latent animalistic instincts that later develops as they grow - It was rather their experience growing up that allowed them to possess these animalistic instincts.
Plato's law of attraction stated that like ideas attract. Napoleon Hill later established the idea that positive thinking shapes your mind. In other words, you will be what you want to be.
So what would one be when one rather be more animal than human?
It was no secret that the Kagamis were tiger enthusiasts. Mrs. Kagami loved tigers so much that she named her newborn son Taiga just so that he sounded like tiger. And yes, she did tried to name him Tiger, a failed effort to be sure as the Japanese name registry refused her pointing out clauses of Child Abuse. A boy called tiger could scare his classmates into having delusions that they were actually learning with a live tiger. It was a scary thought, especially when one Kagami Taiga had such a mean looking face the moment he was born, much to the delight of his parents.
Sadly his mean tiger-like looking face did not save him from a trip to Nepal a month after he was born. Again, putting a one-month child one a plane was enough cause to state child abuse, but who would sue Mrs. Kagami to save a mean looking one-month-old child? Since no one did, the Kagamis got on a flight to Nepal just so that they could trek and camp in the forest in hope that a Bengal tiger could be found.
Mr. and Mrs. Kagami simply did not expect illegal woodcutters in Nepal to be operating the moment they brought out their tiger tracking tools, which they specially had made. They also did not expect illegal woodcutters to suddenly set fire to the forest just because they can.
"My dear child!" Was Mrs. Kagami scream as she ran towards her computer-aka the tiger-tracking tool and cuddled it in her embrace.
"Keep our child safe!" Said Mr. Kagami as he collected the wires and other electronic child-aka the computer supporting devices before he followed his wife out of the forest.
Even with his mean tiger-like looking face, Taiga wasn't tiger-like enough to attract the attraction from his parents, unlike the super tiger tacking tools.
Fortunately Taiga's life had not reached its end of the line.
If Mr. and Mrs. Kagami were there, they would have been incredibly jealous of their son. Especially when a mother Bengal tiger that had just lost her cub in the forest fire decided to animally adopt the mean looking baby. One mean look from the baby told the tiger that this was her cub.
Taiga's life in the Nepalese forest was similar to how Kipling described Mowgli's life in the jungle book; the difference was that a female Shere Khan raised him. Another difference was that he could only speak tiger, as his mama ate the other animals that came near them.
Female Shere Khan demise came when poachers entered the Nepalese forest whining about employees requiring Bengalese tiger's fur.
Kagami growled loudly and threateningly as the poachers shot his mama, instantly incapitating her.
His growls went unheard by the poachers who neared him. Their eyes never leaving the pelt he wore.
"Madame Deville might like this?"
"She might, though we're commissioned for the Bengal I'd say the more the better." With that the savage poachers ripped off his pelt leaving little Taiga stark naked, revealing a smaller little Taiga.
"Wahhh!" Taiga wailed at his nakedness and ran to hide behind his mama's body.
"What are we going to do with this runt?" Poacher number one asked.
"Who knows? Take him back? He does look animalistic and all, by the looks of it, he's not letting go of that tiger. Who knows, Madame Deville might be interest in his fur?" Poacher number two replied.
"Lets." Poacher number one said before the poachers dragged back the tiger along with Tiger to their secret helicopter.
Madame Deville apparently had no interest in human's fur. 'Not civilized enough' was what she said before she threw Taiga out into the orphanage.
Being raised by a tiger for the past 5 years meant that he had speech impediments and all and was often televised for being so savage looking.
"Oh. Em. Gee." Was what Mrs. Kagami said the moment she saw the televised Taiga. No, she did not recognized Taiga as her lost son, she simply thought that he was so savage looking that he looked like the Bengal tiger she had been truing to and that she must have him.
They adopted Taiga the next day before they moved to America.
Mrs. Kagami seemed to have a happy little seizure when Taiga spoke to the tigers at the zoo on their weekly zoo visits to see tigers. She was so pleased that she demanded he speak human immediately, something that he could not do.
The family moved occasionally until they found the best tutor for speaking human that money could buy and soon settled in that neighborhood.
Day by day, Kagami spoke more and more human. He played occasionally with Himuro Tatsuya who enjoyed playing balls, something that every cat should enjoy.
It could not last. Tatsuya got emotional over the ballgame as all cats would do and decided to break their brotherhood bond if he lost.
Taiga pretended to lose and Tatsuya got more emotional.
Taiga escaped it all by flying back to Japan. He was tired of his adopted parents using him as a translator to talk tigers anyway.
"Such an exotic piece!" screamed a high-pitched voice in the dark.
The poachers smiled awkwardly in return. One simply fears for their life in the presence of Mrs. Deville. Especially when she was wearing that fur mask to her, revealing to the world only of her dichromatic eyes.
"Here," she handed them a cheque causing them to stare in awe.
Mrs. Deville was quite tired of holding out her hand and so let go of the cheque.
The poachers groveled on the ground just so they could stare more at the cheque.
"Yes, Plebs, grovel. I shall call Karl." She said before she took out her cell to call her favorite designer, Karl.
"Ohhhh! Karl!" She squealed as Karl picked up her call.
"You would not believe what I have obtained, a Bengal tiger! A large one at that!" She continued.
"I would love a robe Karl. Yes, yes. Shall have it delivered to you Karl. Love you Karl, mwah, mwah!" She ended the call in delight.
The Aomines were a bunch of studious and hardworking people. To say that they were surprised when a baby Aomine popped out of his mother's stomach would be an understatement. Aomines' simply do not bear tanned newborn babies, especially when the baby looked as if it was about to fall asleep the moment it was born.
The baby somehow held a deep fixation with balls.
Babies do not crawl around when they are 1-month old. Enough said.
Bizarrely, baby Aomine crawled around incessantly if there was a ball in sight.
Mr. Aomine was busy and Mrs. Aomine was still tired from having to birth such a lazy kid. They hired an illegal immigrant as a maid as she was cheap and hey, you have to save money in an economic downturn, especially in the early.
Little did they know that the maid's laziness rivals that of baby Aomine without ball(s).
Lazy maid was sleeping whilst baby Aomine crawled out of the house and into the forest nearby just to follow a ball of dust.
It was another series of unexpected events that a black panther lived in that nearby forest.
How the panther got there? Well, it escaped before it was put in the zoo. Zoo authorities, in fear of being discredited simply stated that it had died. A week after it had disappeared, keepers of the forest next to the Aomines' claimed that a deity had graced the forest.
Seeing baby Aomine play dirtily with the dust ball instantly caused the panther to fall in love. Seeing that it was one of it's kind and could not breed anyway, the female panther adopted Aomine.
Life wasn't a road filled with roses. Happiness couldn't last and so Daiki's dirty and wild's happiness could not last either.
Again, poachers came. Complaining how Madame Rosenberg demanded the fur of a black panther that had been reportedly sighted. Understandably so, the Madame was an avid fur collector and such rarity could not be left unattended.
Whilst the panther may be fast, 5 years of lazing and loafing around with a lazy Daiki left her muscles unused.
Kill two birds with one stone, or so the saying goes. Albeit with one shot the poachers got 1 dead panther and one panther-looking black kid.
"Is that a baby panther?" Asked poacher 1.
"Maybe, it is back and all." Said poacher 2 until the panther-looking kid started crying which by then caused them to realize it was not a panther.
"Well, there go Mrs. Rosenberg gloves." Sighed poacher one at his lost prospect for more money.
As his mama's corpse was being dragged away, baby Aomine wailed as he tracked the poachers out of the forest. The poachers did no harm to the baby Aomine as they were poachers and were quite dumb like the poachers in 101 Dalmatians.
Daiki's efforts to track his mama's carcass were in vain when the dumb robbers entered their transport. Alas, even with his panther-like speed he simply could not match the speed of an 8-wheeled truck.
Whilst wailing in panther language, a bubbly pink-haired girl saw Daiki. She thought him to be a rather big black cat and began to coo as she caressed his blue hair.
From then on he became her large black and blue pet, which she taught human language to.
The Aomines' found him and tried to take him back but Daiki could not stand their hardworking attitude so he resorted to staying near his pseudo-owner instead.
One day whilst playing in the playground as all black cats do, he found a fantastic ball game. A game that soon became the object of his love till now.
"Oh My! How luxurious!" Mrs. Rosenberg gasped as she flushed her hands through the black velvety fur. She was so lost in the fur's ecstasy that she forgot her team of poachers.
"Oh, you're still here." She said the moment she realized them huddling in the corner quietly like little dwarves. Pulling out a cheque, she threw it at them, causing them to kneel in order to see the cheque's value.
"Yes dear, grovel dear. I shall call Karl." She murmured as she dialed Karl.
"Hi Karl, are you well? I have another exotic item for you." Hearing Karl's answer suddenly turned her expression sour.
"What do you mean you're not using real fur anymore." She gasped at his answer.
"Karl! You cannot let those tree huggers push you around. No Karl! You absolutely cannot! I need a panther carpet and Karl! Karl! This isn't over Karl, you cannot do this to me! Argh!" She screeched as Karl cut off her line.
Mrs. Rosenberg wasn't one to be easily depressed but this was one of her few moments. Being unable to have a panther's carpet made her feel like a fish out of the water, like a Romeo without his Juliet, like a Harry without his Draco. All in all it was tragic.
She knew that heavens had not forsaken her the moment her car crashed into a man's vehicle on her way home. The man came out looking thoroughly displeased as he headed towards her, and she couldn't help but thought he was trouble when he walked in.
His frustrations dissipated the moment he saw the panther's fleece in the back of her car.
"What a wonderful and exotic fleece!" He gasped, eyes brimming with love towards the fleece and Mrs. Rosenberg knew she had found her true comrade.
"It is isn't it?" She voiced her agreement.
"If you have not found the right person yet, may I have the honor of tailoring such a fine fleece?" He spoke as he handed her his business card.
The day could not have been any better for Mrs. Rosenberg if her smile was anything to go by. This man was Issey Miyake, The Issey Miyake. She should've realized his face sooner.
" It would be a pleasure to obtain an art piece made by such a renowned figure such as yourself." She said. This was how civilized people conclude their deals. Hmpff!
The Hayamas were African enthusiasts. That wasn't to say that they like the continent of Africa, their attraction was more towards the animals residing there.
Like any other enthusiasts would, they flew to Africa two months after Mrs. Hayama popped out little Hayama Kotarou.
Their ventures led them to the bank of the Nile in Uganda where the starving yet fat hippos lie.
Once in the presence of such large and fat sized hippos, their curiosity for the best of them. Seeing those large cavernous luscious hippo-lips wide open was like seeing a sexual foreplay to African enthusiast like Hayamas. One simply cannot ignore the urge to climb into those fat and sexy mouths. The temptation for Mr. and Mrs. Hayama was too great and they soon succumbed to it like how Eve was ensnared by the serpent on Eden.
Sadly after two unfortunate snaps and gulps from two sexy hippos, Mr. and Mrs. Hayama became no more.
One month Kotarou was as oblivious to the situation as any one month child would be when their parents became no more.
Fortunately those big black eyes proved sufficient enough to entice a mother cheetah into adopting him.
The life of a cheetah was characterized by the continuous fast paced running. Kotarou was sadly not a cheetah and could never run as fast.
His life was bettered after a ball fell from the sky, clearly sent from the god of basketball residing . . . . .
He soon found out that other cheetah, his mother included. Simply could not dribble the ball, as they couldn't stand on 2 legs for very long, obviously. He therefore decided that dribbling would now become his forte and persistently practiced dribbling the ball at lighting speed, metaphorically speaking of course.
His peaceful life of continuous running and ball dribbling ended when the sound of a helicopter resonated around the wild African fields.
It was a known fact that cheetah's furs were a delicacy in sophisticated fashion spheres. The only legal way to obtain them legally was through the yearly quota hunting set by the various African countries. Quotas hunting that interest every lady who appreciates the beauty of fur.
Mrs Evere-crimson was no exception. She had slammed the authorities' head with so much money that they fainted on spot so that she was able to claim a block of hunting ground in Uganda for herself. Money was not an issue for someone as rich as Mrs. Evere-crimson.
Slowly like the MidoTaka pairing progression, she scanned the African grassland via her helicopter; of course it was equipped with two brainless poachers, metaphorically speaking of course. A high-classed lady as she would not lower herself to pick up some dead carcasses, even if they produced rare furs when once skinned, the nerve of such a thought.
The search led her to the edge of the river Nile where the grass weren't fair and the sun too bright for her delicate skin yet she journeyed on valiantly inside her helicopter, such was the height of her dedication for this noble cause. Her eyes soon rested on her soon to be prize. Heaven must be on her side seeing that's she saw not one but two beautiful yellow furs with spots.
She squealed in delight before she ordered the poisoned darts to be fired. One may wonder why rapid firing guns weren't used. it was quite obvious really. She didn't want her coat to be filled with holes caused by rapid gunfire. Such method truly lacked finesse, something Mrs. Evere-crimson deeply required.
It was like a rustic and animalistic re-enactment of those Chinese martial arts film where bullets could be dodged. Amazingly, this was not a film yet those two cheetahs - one perhaps a little deformed by the lack of a tail - were perfectly dodging her specially concocted poisoned darts.
"Imbeciles! Shoot those beautiful creatures down!" She screeched in frustration, imagining herself wearing those delicacies simply did not console her wrecked temper. The feel of those furs simply must be rewarding, the worthiness of the hunt would increase their sentimental value.
The cheetahs quickly neared the river where the hippos lie, their luscious and cavernous holes opened, waiting for organisms to wander in, sort of what you would expect from an overgrown Venus flytrap.
"Oh my god! My coats are going to be eaten, stop them!" Mrs. Evere-crimson screamed when it looked as if her furs were going to enter those luscious and sexy hippos' mouth and will never again see the sunrise. And oh were those lips sexy and luscious, she would have made them part of her fur collection, sadly they do not have fur and therefore weren't worthy of her collection even though their lips were simply irresistible.
Afraid of her prize being eaten, she pulled out her own poisoned dart gun and immediately shot it. The menace landed directly on a luscious hippo's lips, the same exact moment those two cheetahs entered. The hippo immediately faint from the potent concoction and its mouth immediately closed, trapping the two cheetahs inside.
"I did it! Aren't I amazing." She praised her marksmanship, comparing her skills to the idiotic poachers would be like saying that hippos' lips weren't sexy and luscious.
Mrs. Evere-Crimson stood starstrucked as the downed hippo's sexy lips were opened by her idiotic poachers.
Inside lay two prized fur that Mrs. Ever-Crimson could poach. The hippo's sexy morning breath were too much for the cheetahs to take and fainted them, hippos were economical like that.
Mrs. Evere-Crimson stood starstrucked as the hippo's sexy lips were opened. She screamed the moment she realized the deformed cheetah was not a deformed cheetah but was a human in disguise. It was like orgasm being denied, painful and sorrowful.
And though the human boy was able to perform cheetah-like acrobatics, Mrs. Evere-Crimson had no desire for a furless creature, they simply weren't fluffy or cute in contrast to her marvelous collection.
With such animalistic reasoning in mind, she was ready to throw the cheetah-like boy right back where he came from, aka. The wilderness. His incessant screeching was not tending her mental wound either.
The problem however, was the cheetah's pelt attached to the boy. And by 'attached' she meant, seeming super-glued to the boy. It probably was the aftereffect of bathless months. Hygiene clearly was not the boy's strong points. It would require the help of a professional fur harnesser to take off that fur.
Her henchmen, stupid as they were, tried to pull the fur from the boy in cheetah's disguise.
"Stop you imbeciles!" She screeched. Those idiots could have destroyed the fur's suede by their efforts. She felt fainthearted for her minions' future.
She decided that the child-like woodland creature shall be taken with them and strutted back towards her helicopter.
The boy's incessant cheetah-like wailings had the probability of damaging her ears to irreparable level and many would have thrown the boy off their plane for his wild antics but not Mrs. Evere-Crimson. She would tolerate his cheetah-like rumble if only to get the fur off him.
Such was her dedication to fur collecting.
The plane landed in Japan and Mrs. Evere-Crimson felt her ears to be bleeding.
The cheetah and the boy was quickly shipped to a fur harnessing corporate recommended by her dear friend Issey.
The next week came by the Cheetah's boots and coats were in Mrs. Evere-Crimson's embrace.
What happened to the boy one might ask? Mrs. Ever-Crimson wouldn't know. Someone as her had no time in plebian gossips though her minions did say that he was apparently adopted into a orphanage for mentally challenged children who could not properly speak human. It probably would be more economical to send him to a zoo, his bestial screaming certainly warranted that.
Her useless poachers further added to her annoyance that the boy apparently had a talent in dribbling balls. It really wasn't something that Mrs. Evere-Crimson wanted to hear nor care for. The association with 'balls' certainly made it phallic enough to be inappropriate, especially when the boy's beast-like behaviors were added on to that..
All in all Mrs. Evere-Crimson thought it was a job well done. The furs she cultivated from her outing made her happy enough to overlook the beastly child's damaging voice.
Timid-ness was a personality that many associated to Furihata Kouki. Kouki however, was not born a timid boy. In fact, he was just like any other average boys up until the night of the kidnapping.
The Furihatas were quite well-known among dogs enthusiast for their well bred Chihuahuas. And whilst the circle was not a large one, they were very well reputed.
Fear of bankruptcy emerged when the economic slump occurred. Many Chihuahua enthusiast rapidly declined, unemployment went on the rise and the purchase of Chihuahuas dropped further. It declined so much that the farm was overstocked with 69 Chihuahuas, no pun intended.
Over-advertisement was where Kouki believed the problem started. One simply did not advertise Chihuahua sales on food or high fashion magazine.
Bizarrely the advertisement worked and by the next morning after the advertisement was aired, a man in black suit and sunglasses stood in front of their farm.
"We want to purchase all 69 of your Chihuahuas." Was the first thing the man in black uttered.
His mum stared suspiciously at the man, and like a mindreader, the man in black simply said.
"There is no need for suspicion for I am not a suspicious person."
'Not,' was what Kouki might added there and then had he not felt threatened.
It was all in all, a difficult statement to believe when this whole encounter screamed suspicious. One simply did not expect a man adorned in black getup and shades to purchase 69 Chihuahuas.
It was more so when 69 was such a phallic number. Mrs. Furihata immediately thought that the man must be into bestiality and the like. Who knows what the plural 'we' represented. Perhaps an animalistic orgy?
The thought that the 69 dogs would be treated as nothing more than sex slaves immediately caused his mother to say 'no.'
The man in black handed her a cheque causing her to drool but the good in her won and she once again declined.
Man in black looked troubled by her answer and decided to dial one of his contacts. The phone went silent after the man explained how Kouki's mum said 'no' and before the earth seemed to shook from the screeched the erupted from the phone.
The call ended and the man looked on the verge of tears. Yet as a law-abiding citizen during daylight, all he could do was glare at the Furihatas, huffed and ran back to his car like a spoilt child.
Night came and laws along with its law-abiding citizens vanished to nothingness.
It happened when Kouki was sleeping with his 69 Chihuahuas as one would do if one owns a Chihuahua's farm as they were so small and petite and soft and cuddly when the break-in happened. And Whilst the Furihatas' farm were well fenced and protected, it was not protected well enough to face the of an explosive bomb.
The door opened and several thug-looking figures were there. Kouki and his Chihuahua could only swoon in fear, thugs were not friendly types of people.
"The Madame is demanding quick work so we better hurry." Said one of the thug, and Kouki could definitely sensed a note of fear. This 'madame' person must be truly threatening to inspire fear in thugs.
His sight was lost as he was thrown into a large black bag along with his entourage of Chihuahuas.
The next thing he realized was that he and his Chihuahuas were inside large abandoned warehouse secured by thugs.
The door creaked and in came a woman with crimson red hair. Her face was masked by an equally scarlet mask. Kouki decided that this must be the said 'madame.'
She walked towards him in a swirly manner, stopped and grabbled his face before she stared at him suspiciously.
"And what is this? A new type of Chihuahua?" She whispered to no one especially. Kouki wanted to say 'he was a human and not a Chihuahua thank you very much but thank you for the back hand compliments as well as he thought Chihuahuas were very cute' but couldn't for his body was shaking in fear. One look into those cloudy red eyes and he could tell that this woman was rather high on drugs.
"But Oh! You have no fur! You are a furless Chihuahua! How could I make a coat with a furless Chihuahua!" She screamed in melancholic distaste. "Ah I know, we could give him fur inducing medicines!" She continued and Kouki wanted to run away in hide in the flock of Chihuahuas.
"Minions!" She wailed and the thugs quickly handed her over some sort of wet handkerchief.
"Now, now. Be a nice Chihuahua and go to sleep." The 'madame' spoke in a kind voice but she seemed everything but. A second later, Kouki was in troubled sleep, his only source of hope were the sound of police wars that were ringing by their side.
Kouki woke up.
He was reassured that he wouldn't grow hair like gorillas. Luckily the police got there in time but only one thug was caught. The mastermind behind the movement apparently had a helicopter and easily fled.
He was however, quite timid from then on, those red stares from the 'madame' was something he could never forget.
Kouki didn't know if the Chihuahuas kidnapping was a blessing or a curse. Whilst he got timid in the process, the publicity received from the event made them the most sought after Chihuahua farm in Japan and his family got out of the economic depression rather unscathed.
The Birth of Seijuro Akashi hailed a new body of perfection and for the Akashi line.
Akashis were born perfect and that was that. In fact, the word perfect should be changed to 'akashi' for it was rather much more appropriate.
His father was always busy and was always occupied by work. Seijuuro appreciated his way of love though. Especially when he bought Seijuro a lion to commemorate his 4th birthday.
"Akashis must be absolute and perfect." His dad said as he handed Seijuro the lion's cub." It went unsaid the lions were the king of animals and were absolute, much like the Akashi really. The lion was rather special seeing that it had a red mane.
Seijuro thought the name Aka-chan to be rather appropriate.
He could tell that his mother was a rather strange woman but he love her anyway. She taught him how to play the strange game of basketball which he took addiction in, being the only game he ever played and all. Of course, Aka-chan was taught to play it as well.
Unfortunately, on one rainy day, Aka-chan disappeared
Let it be known that Mrs. Akashi was no ordinary housewife. No ordinary wife would have an alternative persona like her. An extremely fashionable alternative personal called the Madame Rosenberg Evere-crimson Deville, aka R.E.D. Her husband might have suspected her of having a alternative persona but alas, he couldn't to anything about it. Not when most of his time were spent away abroad in pursuit of money for the Akashi conglomerate.
It was a secret to others, but a known fact in her family that they possess bipolarity within their minds. Hers was strengthened with Schizophrenia, an auditory hallucination telling her that animals were out to get her. Her marriage with Touya Akashi was a blessing in disguise, to marry such an absolute man made her one hell of an absolute woman who shan't be defied.
Therefore it was quite wretched that she could be scared of such creatures. Her verdict? She shall not be defied; therefore they all shall become furs.
There's a thin line between love and hate or so the saying goes. One moment she hate them, the next she was an avid fur collector, always cradling her various expensive pieces, in secret of course.
Sighing in defeat, she stared longingly at her fur coats/scarfs/gloves/etc/etc collection. It was an artistic collection indeed, a collection that took her whole life to collect. The three crowned pieces of her collection indisputably were the Bengal tiger's robe, the Black Panther's carpet and the cheetah's coat and boots.
It was during her fur pursuit in Africa that made her like this.
Perhaps it was because she didn't pay enough respect to the hippo's sexy luscious lips that this depravity fell upon her.
Why must she, the great madame R.E.D be infected with an incurable disease. But at least that incurable disease was the 'red death.' In her death, her skin would turn scarlet and that was the only comfort she could think of. Even in her death she would always be stunningly scarlet.
Thinking that she had only a year left to live was rather tragic. She had a son who she rather love and taught him to play balls but most of all she had a glorious purpose to collect furs.
It was so tragic that she turned to drugs and the like. To think that she couldn't collect furs anymore gave her migraines and all. Drugs to dreamland were much preferred.
She failed her mission in getting the Chihuahua coat and she was depressed. To think that a breed of gigantic furless Chihuahua existed, to think that it was in her hands before she suddenly lost hold of it as the police came.
One of her Minions was caught in the mission. The last time she heard, he had a son called Haizaki who she guessed would become an unpleasant delinquent.
Her life would soon be over and she need something else. Something red and crimson and scarlet. Something like that lion that just walked past her room.
And so. The red lion became the final piece of her collection. She bid farewell to Issey and thanked him for his kind works as they got themselves drunk on red wine.
She looked at her red coat, the finest piece she would say. The absoluteness of it was so bloody and so crimson and so red.
She closed her eyes as she lay on her maroon bed. She dreamt of red skies and madame R.E.D was no more.
Seijuro was distressed. He lost Aka-chan 2 months ago and now his mother was forever resting as well.
He walked into her red room, reminiscing the times his mother would tell him stories about being absolute and perfect before she made up some stories about her animal hunts.
Seijuro stared at the red flowerpot on his mother's dressing table. Something was off about it, his lion-instinct told him. Upon inspection, there was a switch inside which he pressed.
A sudden click and a secret room opened up. Being an Akashi, Seijuro's only option was to be resolute and inspect the place.
The room was red, everything in it was decorated in shades of reds. A red mask was hanged upon a wardrobe, the object of his suspicions.
Seijuro's world changed the moment he opened the wardrobe and saw the collection of furs. Apparently his mother's animal hunts were true and that coat decorated in red fur, that scarlet fur he'd recognized anywhere.
Luckily he was holding a basketball in his hand as Shintaro had said that Sagittarius had the worse luck today and he should be carrying the lucky item.
His world had just shattered and the only thing that was still absolute was the roundness of the ball in his hand. It was his hold to reality and existence, it was the hangar of his soul.
There was nothing else but basketball and absolution left for him it seemed. Not when his mother was not here anymore, not when Aka-chan was not alive anymore.
He sneaked another peak at his mum's collection and felt it was still one piece off to completion.
Was it any wonder that he was so drawn in towards Furihata Kouki the moment they met.
And That's the end.
And god that last past got quite dark. Must be because I wrote it after watching Tokyo Ghoul Brrr!
Thank you for reading!
Mickey