Summary: "Sing me a lullaby, Daddy, where you die at the end." Kuroko froze, wide eyes staring at his four year old son's impassive face.

Rating: K+

Warnings: Horror(?), creepy child

Uploaded date: 5/1/16

Recommended songs: Nightcore - Milk And Cookies (male version) or Nightcore - Carousel (male version) or Nightcore - Dollhouse (male version) (I said "or" because you'll probably finish the fic before the song ends)

Inspiration behind the fic: Was listening to male nightcore songs while doing some other shit and when I finally tuned in to listen to the lyrics, I heard one line that said, "Sing you a lullaby where you die at the end." So I thought of a child saying that to their mother… Then I thought of Kuroko and that's when this fic was born.

Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basketball is owned by Tadatoshi Fujimaki. I make no profit writing this.


†Baby Angel†

"Sing me a lullaby, Daddy, where you die at the end."

Kuroko froze, wide eyes staring at his four year old son's impassive face. A chill ran down his spine in momentary horror. His hand's clenched the comforter, almost afraid to release it. "What?"

The child chuckled lightly, innocently, bright red eyes shining in delight. "I'm kidding, kid-ding!"

Kuroko tried to smile genuinely although it came out slightly strained and false. "I see, but it's not good to say stuff like that. Where ever did you learn such a thing?" He brought the comforter up to his son's neck, continuing to tuck him in for the night.

"It was in a song!" the child giggled.

A song… Of course. Children copy things they hear and see. There was nothing to worry about.

His son was normal.

"Daddy, I have something for you."

"Hmm?" Kuroko turned off the faucet and grabbed a cloth to dry his hands, slowly turning to face his son in the doorway of the kitchen. There, he saw his son gingerly cradling a butcher's knife with a great big grin on his face. "Don't… Don't play with those! Give it here! Honestly, when did you get your hands on something so dangerous?" he asked rhetorically but still expected an answer nonetheless.

"My friend gave it to me!" the boy replied with a pout as Kuroko extracted the knife from his cold fingers.

"What friend? I didn't hear anyone come in."

"He's right here!" the boy declared.

Puzzled, Kuroko picked up the child and hesitantly looked down the hallway. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Darkness and silence greeted him back. "If you are, please don't go around giving children dangerous weapons to play with."

The boy giggled as he firmly wrapped his arms around Kuroko's neck.

An imaginary friend… Of course. All children have imaginary friends. He'll grow out of it when he makes real friends. There was nothing to worry about.

His son was normal.

"Heeheehee~"

Kuroko was awoken by soft, childish laughter. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. Once his mind was somewhat coherent, he looked at the end of his bed where he saw wide red eyes glittering in the moonlight. The boy's grin stretched from ear to ear, white teeth somehow looking just a bit sharper than usual.

"You…" Kuroko stuttered. He was loathed to admit that he was positively petrified. But this was his son. A child, too small to do harm. Too innocent to… "What are you doing out of bed. It's not nice to wake Daddy up in the middle of the night. Did you have a bad dream?" Kuroko padded the spot next to him on the bed.

"Okay!" There was a small sound, like something was being kicked under the bed before the child reached for the sheets and pulled himself up, crawling forward.

"Okay? You make it sound like that isn't the case." The boy ignored any further discussion as he pulled the sheets up and over his head.

The next morning, while his son was at school, Kuroko knelt down to check underneath his bed where he heard the sound originate from. A plastic bat with nails sticking out of it proudly displayed itself. Kuroko remembers buying that bat for his son's third birthday. The one he so eagerly wanted. Kuroko swallowed deeply. This was….

A prank… Of course. Children... children did not do these things. But there was nothing to worry about.

His son was normal. Normal.

"Daddy, can we have fish tonight?"

Kuroko remained at the counter, chopping up a few vegetables. He didn't want to turn around and face his son because… because he knows he won't like what he sees. Call it a gut instinct. But his gut instincts were also telling him that if he didn't turn around (Right now!) something bad would happen.

Steeling himself, Kuroko slowly, slowly turned his head. His son was standing there, smiling, and holding up a small fish bowl with a goldfish lying belly up at the top, dead. He'd won that fish for his son at the festival last week.

Those fish never last, he told himself but couldn't quite make himself believe his own excuse.

A coincidence… Of course. These things happened all the time. There was nothing to worry about.

His son was…

"My, my. It sounds like you should bring your son with you to therapy next time."

Kuroko breathed in deeply as he took in the psychoanalysis's words. "I think that's a good idea. Thank you for seeing me, Akashi-san." He rose from his seat on the couch and Akashi mirrored the action as he took off his glasses and reached his hand out for a shake.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious but we can never be too careful, can we?" the man said but Kuroko didn't hear the words, his body had gone numb. He was too captivated, too alarmed by the deep red eyes staring back at him. The same eye's as his son, his… psychopathic son.


A/N: What the fuck is with today? I woke up with 37 fanfiction and A03 emails in my inbox. I usually only have one or two ff emails a day so is something going on that I don't know about? It made me not want to upload this today simply so I wouldn't be a part of the craze. Maybe school's out or people are on vacation. Or maybe May 1st is just a special day.