Characters; Pairings: Akashi Seijuurou; Kuroko Tetsuya / AkaKuro
AU: Assassin AU; Kuroko with black hair
Warnings: Slight OOCness due to the characters' situations, possibility of sexual situations in the future
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke nor the characters in this fanfiction. The only thing I own are my words and my ideas.
Summary:
Forgetting the past is anything but easy. But the past should stay in the past, at least that's what Tetsuya believes. Disguised as Kurose, his past doesn't come to haunt him, but to snatch him back, slowly dragging him into the treacherous waters he thought he had escaped. Seijuurou had planned this. He is most pleased.
Account I: Prologue
/There once lived a man in a crooked house, living a crooked life. He, too, was crooked like the paintings hanging above the walls, like the crookedness of his friends and the crookedness of his family. Even his dog was crooked. (Inspired by Crooked Man) /
Tetsuya glances wearily at the table he is assigned, lips aching to quirk into a displeased frown. Far too familiar faces invade his vision, striking bright-colored hair seperating these figures from the rest of the restaurant. He's in disguise, of course, dressed in the normal waiter uniform of white collared long sleeves rolled to his elbows along with black pants covered by a tight black apron. He wears contacts of a golden color, different in intensity compared to the eyes of a man he used to know. His hair is dyed a stark black, the darkness contrasting his pale alabaster complexion. He isn't Kuroko Tetsuya- not here at least. He's Kurose and just that. The waiter doesn't doubt a familiar person's keen eye sight, however and that fact renders him apprehensive. Cautious, maybe, but there's a reason for his sudden thoughts of withdrawal. That's a past he rather not visit.
Tetsuya takes the assigned entrees, sucking in a breath that feels like shards of glass scraping at his insides as he trots towards the table painted in rainbow men. With every step he takes he feels large weights drop onto his shoulders, memories crashing down onto him like merciless bounts of crackling thunder. He remains stoic, golden eyes with a lack of luster, lips pressed into a tight, straight line.
As he places the dishes besides their respective owners, uttering faint [Insert fancy ass entrees here ye] here [more] and there. They accept their food happily, the blond model's sun-colored eyes twinkling in excitement, the navy-headed ganguro-looking man practically drooling as Tetsuya hands him the plate, and the purple-headed giant exhuberating intense need as Tetsuya approaches. He excuses himself, for he has two more dishes to fetch, and their leader with glowing crimson eyes nods in approval. When Tetsuya escapes those watching, calculating eyes his stomach churns agonizingly as he exhales in relief, temporary relief he finds absolutely necessary in order to endure dangerous situations involving blood-stained memories he'd rather forget. When he picks up the rest of the orders in his hands, he stares at the food and has the urge to wretch, but he sucks in another shard-filled breath and finds himself approaching the table once again, struggling to suppress the fear crawling up his fingertips to his forearms, like spiders skidding through his skin in a fervent motion.
The man with scarlet hair is the first to detect his presence, feline-like eyes peering from the side to watch him approach, his gaze burning with an intensity like scorching flames. Tetsuya makes a point not to make eye contact, placing the food in front the red head in silence, doing the same to the large man with odd, bright green hair with rectangle-rimmed glasses. Tetsuya bows to excuse himself, but he halts when the red head begins to speak.
"Waiter, may I inquire your name?" He asks with a raise of an eyebrow, continuing, "For reference, of course."
It's stupid, but Tetsuya feels a lump in his throat and has difficulty swallowing. The memories are rushing back in mere milliseconds and Tetsuya can only clutch onto the sides of his pants, balling his fists into the cloth as he meets the man's gaze- Akashi Seijuurou is his name- in order to find himself almost frozen in place.
It's idiotic, but he remembers fragmented memories he's tried to forget for years and years, he's reminded of the agony he had endured after becoming affiliated with Seijuurou, and he wants to cry and scream and throw up his insides.
/"May I inquire your name?" The man in the black suit with the noticeable red tie folds his hands over the table, resting his chin on top of them.
Tetsuya inhales slowly, large cerulean eyes shifting from left to right nervously as he picks at the hem of his shirt. "Kuroko Tetsuya," he murmurs silently in apprehension. Akashi Seijuurou's lips quirk upwards as he raises himself from his seat and approaches the blue headed man.
"You intrigue me," he says in a husky, saccharine manner that sends jolts and shivers down Tetsuya's spine, but his expression remains cool and composed. He doesn't know why he's here, or how he's gotten here, but he knows, just from the aroma of the room, an aroma sickly sweet and clean, enticing- this is a mistake./
"Intriguing," Seijuurou comments with a small nod, as if on cue, picking up his fork and knife, the steel-stained utensil gleaming under the artificial light source above them. "Thank you. We will call you when assistance is further required."
Just the tone of Seijuurou's voice is enough to make Tetsuya want to crumble into pieces to be swept away by the wind that, unfortunately, is absent. He nods, forcing a small smile as his job acquires it, bowing before excusing himself once again. The nausea doesn't pass, it only intensifies within Tetsuya's whole system before he finally, after leaving the sights of the inner structure of the restaurant, quakes in fear. No one can see him- one of the benefits in having normal, black hair as opposed to his biological sky blue locks. He clutches at his chest, a sudden shortening of his breath, as the past washes over him like waves crashing arbitrarily on a stormy day. Words ring in his ears, words whispered against his ear by the man who had ruined his life, by the man who had stripped him of his pride and reputation. He wants to cry but he bites down to suppress those pitiful emotions, propping himself back up to continue working. He could only hope that the rest of his shift would pass without incident.
Tetsuya is called once again, an hour after having their dinners served to them, beckoning the 'Kurose' to order dessert. Seijuurou is the one that calls him over, with Atsushi - the purple-haired glutton- ordering what it seems a superfluous amount of sweets. It's amazing how close the five are for Tetsuya knows that each order comes out of Seijuurou's pocket and the red-headed abomination isn't one to treat others easily nor tolerate them with a mother-like fondness laced with a stern indifference.
Tetsuya isn't surprised by this order, but the Chef sure is for he sputters mild vulgarities and complaints as he eases through the list.
"Cheesecake, Parfait, cake, crème brulee, chocolate shakes, vanilla shakes, strawberry smoothies," Taiga mutters grumpily as he places each dish. "You should just drink up the vanilla shake to spite them, Kurose."
Tetsuya smiles at the chef and bows his head before he takes each order and brings them back to the rainbow-headed guests. It takes a whole four rounds for Tetsuya to deliver each one, huffing softly as he sets down each order before realizing Atsushi is already on his third dessert, as well as Daiki. When Tetsuya places the vanilla shake before Seijuurou, each person perks up, noticing the cool drink.
"Uwo- Akashicchi, you ordered a vanilla shake?" Ryouta- the blond- asks curiously, bringing his smoothie to his lips.
"How nostalgic," Daiki comments as he swallows another piece of chocolate cake.
"Yes," Seijuurou answers, grabbing the cool drink and observing it with calculating eyes. "It reminds me of that fellow. It seems I ordered it upon instincts."
Tetsuya freezes, hearing that statement, unaware of his noticeable trembling. They're talking of him, the man they casted aside painfully, only to be throne into a life of disaster. They had made him miserable, had made him vulnerable and, and- they have the galls to mention his existence in such a nonchalant manner? Tetsuya isn't surprised. No, not really. He's shocked there is no laughter, no ridicule at an implication of their past that had included him. The bewilderment lies all upon Seijuurou who sips the drink slowly, an expression as stoic as his own, the man whose fondness lay not on sweets. Tetsuya remembers the times where he had been in company with the red head, sipping the shake as they played a game of shogi. Seijuurou always won, giving disapproving glances at the drink before finally voicing his complaints. Seijuurou, unlike Tetsuya, dislikes vanilla.
That scares him.
Perhaps it's an irrational fear but Seijuurou isn't one to stray from the paradigm, the now raven-headed waiter is much too aware. And that awareness makes him sick to his stomach, more than the nausea that hit earlier. "Would that be all?" He asks with sudden haste, his complexion paler than normal. There's a ringing reverberating in his ears and he's almost certain he's going to pass out, but he clutches onto the side of his arm in a painful manner to keep himself awake. The group notices his sudden demeanor and question him.
"Are you alright? You don't look so good," Ryouta states, gently placing his smoothie back down to the table.
"If you're ill, then working isn't the most ideal situation," Shintarou, the green-head, comments, pushing up his glasses in a pretentious manner.
**Mentions of vomiting. If unsettled, please skip the following lines until further notified**
"I apologize if I look unsightly," Tetsuya can only mutter. "Please excuse me." He bows with haste, before retreating in a quickened pace to the bathroom. He heads straight into one of the stalls, doubling over as he hurls lunch's contents into the toilet bowl. He keeps quiet, quiet as one can while vomiting, only regretful that he hadn't made it to the staff bathroom in time. Luckily, he is alone in the bathroom and that his faltering is unseen and unheard by anyone else.** end ** After a few moments of silence, Tetsuya calming himself in his head, he rises and flushes the toilet, wiping his lips as he approaches the sink warily. He stares at his reflection as he washes his hands, displeased with his appearance, displeased at what he had been reduced to. After wiping his hands dry, he takes out the case for his contacts and proceeds to poke the right contacts out, placing it gently inside before working his way to the left eye. He stops, however, once he sees himself in the mirror, noticing the resemblance he harbors to Seijuurou with the golden eye. Seijuurou doesn't have it now, but he did back then. For a few seconds he has the ache to hurl once again, but there is nothing left in his stomach and he simply feels the nausea build up without an option of relief. He works to remove the other one, placing the content back in its case, before he hears a gruff, familiar voice.
"Yo, Kurose, you alright?" Daiki enters the washroom in suit and tie, hands fully rested in his pockets. His strides are long, as his height is, though his lazy meander is halted by the sight of Tetsuya's radiant, electric blue eyes. "What the-"
"Shit," Tetsuya mutters, shoving the case back into his pockets, turning to face the other way so Daiki doesn't have sight of those eyes. But it's already too late, for the large, tan male is inching closer for further inspection to which Tetsuya only steps back in a panicked manner.
"Your eyes-"
"I'm alright, I'm sorry for interrupting you," he says in his usual monotone, cultivating methods of escape in his head.
"You wear contacts?" Daiki presses as he approaches in bewilderment.
"Yes, I have poor eyesight, now please excuse me-"
"But your eyes are blue-"
"No, they're gold. I'm not sure what you're talking about-"
"I saw them, Kurose, they're blue-"
"They aren't, they're gold, now please excuse me I have to work-"
"Your name isn't Kurose isn't it?"
"Excuse me," Tetsuya hurriedly tries to fly past the larger male, to no avail as Daiki grasps his wrist, shock still written in his oceanic blue eyes.
"Isn't it?"
"Please let go." Tetsuya shields his eyes with his free hand, resisting with all his might. "I have a job to get back to. If you don't stop I'll have to have the guards escort you ou-"
"Your name isn't Kurose. You have blue eyes," Daiki finalizes, narrowing his eyes. His grip tightens and Tetsuya winces.
"Please- just-"
"I knew you looked familiar. You dyed your hair too," Daiki continues, as if in a trance.
"Let go." Tetsuya's voice is stern, ice cold, and he drops all acts at once, flicking his gaze up at Daiki only to sneer at the larger male.
"Where have you been- we've been looking all over for you-"
"Let. Go."
"Tetsu-"
"Let. Go." There's hatred laced in the tone of the lazuli-eyed male, lips quirking down into a frown. He pulls his hand but Daiki only tightens. "Let go right this instant. I don't know who you are, and you do not know who I am. My name is Kurose and I'm 25 years old. You don't know me. Now you're disrupting my job and I would appreciate it if you let the fuck go right this instant," Tetsuya seethes, his pupils dilating in a dangerous manner.
Daiki freezes, easing up his grip before tightening again, pinning Tetsuya against the wall as he hovers above the latter in a menacing manner. "You're not going anywhere until you explain."
Before the waiter has the opportunity to protest, the door opens and a customer walks in to do his business. Daiki releases his hold on the smaller male upon the other's entrance, which allows Tetsuya to flee.
When Daiki follows Tetsuya out in a rush, his eyes peer from all sides of the room, narrowing cobalt blue eyes as he tries to find the phantom-like male. It's no use and he knows it for Tetsuya's strange presence is something only a select few can counter. His eyes just aren't good enough, they aren't like his. Upon acceptance of his failure, Daiki returns to the table with a face painted in agitation, lips quirking downwards into a frown. The four give him questioning looks before he finally speaks up, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I found Tetsu."
All seemed to perk up at this statement.
"ER... But I lost him, so..."
Author's Note: *please read!*
Hello! It's Ura here bringing out a new fic o' mine. This idea was? Just brought on by the intense need to have a black haired Kuroko okay. Um, a few notes;;
Sorry for such a short chapter but I'm just setting things up for now. Continuation of the fic is based on motivation, of course, so updates are sporadic! But I do try to make chapters long simply because I like them better (and by long I mean 5-6k; I'm far too busy to do more and find difficulty in just achieving those numbers). Also, I tend to have a different perception of each KnB members so I apologize if you guys find them ooc! Currently, I've only set up stages for what will be happening in the next few chapters so I may not update this (If I do choose to update) until at least the third or fourth chapter is written. I apologize! Reviews and Favs are appreciated-
As for the pairings: This fic is AkaKuro indefinetely. The MidoKuro- odd as may sound because the two are quite incompatible, is purely platonic (a dream I had that has really inspired me to go with my gut and continue forth with their platonic development). This fic will explore dark themes within Akashi and Kuroko's relationship so I'm sorry if it's not all happy and fluff at first! To be honest, I'm not too sure of the direction I'm going so we can only wait and see. I also start break soon so I hope I'll be able to write for everybody. I might also post art of this fic on my tumblr u v u*))/
Thank you very much for reading! Until then. (The rating will be change when we get there!)
-Ura