My first go at writing fanfiction. This is quite the experiment for me so please bear with me a bit. I'd appreciate any constructive feedback as well as ideas because frankly, I have no idea what I'm doing.

Kudos to jarofclay42 for coming up with the idea

I hope you enjoy this short starter

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"They must be insane! Someone, do something!" The shrill shriek of a woman far below pierced through the cool late autumnal air, mingling with the bustling cacophony of 16th century Rome.

"You hear that Testu?" Came a ragged, laboured query not 4 feet above the boy in question. The source of the noise belonged to a tall, toned young assassin, whose association with the brotherhood had not yet exceeded one month. He still had much to learn, though even in light of his worryingly frequent blunders and ignorant youthful pride, it was clear that he held great potential.

"We are almost 50 feet above the ground, Aomine, this is hardly the time for pointless observations." Testuya replied, panting heavily from exertion. Trails of sweat trickled down his brow, causing his startling icy-blue hair to stick to his face and scrape at his eyes. Despite Tetsuya Kuroko's fearsome reputation as an assassin, wedded to the night since his early childhood, he would never be as athletically capable as his peers. Certainly not of the legendary clique he was a part of, otherwise known as the 'Generation of Miracles'. These were a handful of individuals of similar age favoured and tutoured by none other that the legendary grand-master Ezio. Knowledge is widely spread across Rome and all of Italy that they wield almost inhuman abilities and most bemusing of them all, brightly coloured hair.

"You're out of shape, Tetsu." Aomine teased, whilst pulling a tired and disgruntled Kuroko onto the conical tiled roof of the tower. The lithe frame of the wide-eyed youth beneath him was feather light, requiring considerably little effort on his part to lift him up. He held a firm grip on the thin arms of his friend and mentor, somehow inexplicably afraid that the teen would plummet without his guidance.

"I've told you before, Aomine Daiki..." the senior-ranking assassin responded, adding the first name in a feeble attempt of exerting dominance, "You'll see how much your physical strength will aid you when you're by yourself and wanted by the authorities."

"Of course it'll aid me dumbass, I'll beat them all to a pulp! Remember that time I took down 20 of those crack-heads? And call me Daiki, idiot, nobody uses last names anymore." Aomine haughtily responded. Kuroko found it mildly amusing how the larger man puffed out his chest in pride, standing tall on the precarious height as if he ruled the city. Of course, as this was Kuroko, and not one of Daiki's women, he felt the need to rain on his little parade.

"You were forced to go into hiding for a week while Sir Ezio and I bribed and cajoled your way to anonymity," he bluntly stated, "I would hardly call that a victory."

A visible frown wove its way across the dark blue brows on the white-clad man's head momentarily, before he reached behind his tan neck to pull a hood over his face.

"You always bring that up," he said, with a surprising trace of hurt, in the face of which Kuroko was rather taken aback. Aomine walked to the opposite side of the roof with cyan eyes trained on his broad back. He reached the ledge and swivelled to look at his best friend, holding his arms up laterally and smirking in his regular cocky fashion. "Race you to the bottom." And with a final swish of his snowy cloak and the creaking of leather, he leapt.

Like an eagle he flew, wind ripping at his back while he was pulled ever downwards. He remembered when this used to terrify him. It still did, though on a comparably minute scale. His first leap of faith was one he'd never forget, with the hopeful-yet-apprehensive face of Tetsuya imprinting itself into his mind before he put his life into fate's hands. Tetsu was the first friend he had gained upon joining the order, perhaps he was still the only one. His 'shadow', as his senior liked to call himself, had opted to be Aomine's mentor and guide as soon as the opportunity arose. To this day, Aomine still had no idea why.

All to soon, the familiar thump of hay met his ears as he was enveloped by the sweet-smelling yellow stalks. He did not wait for long however and with a quick twist he rolled out from the pile to his feet, brushing the stray threads from his red-and-white attire. He looked round with amusement as a few startled faces turned his way. Footsteps faltered on neatly-paved streets as the uptown residents would watch him wearily, some were even muttering about wild lunatics. Kuroko would usually scold him at this point, stating in his bland fashion how he was drawing too much attention to himself. Though, as Aomine realised with a start, Kuroko hadn't come down yet. Worry wriggled its way into his heart, pulling on his chest while he ripped the scenery apart for any sign of blue.

"What's wrong?" came a bored voice from behind, "You seem distressed about something." Aomine jumped so high he might as well have not jumped off of the spire as he whipped round to be confronted with the most obnoxious owlish cyan eyes he had ever had the misfortune to be acquainted with.

"You little shit!" he screamed, wilfully preventing his knuckles from colliding with the teenager's face. "How many times, Tetsu, Don't sneak up on me like that! How did you even freaking get down here?!"

"The way you did, obviously." The youth simply shrugged, though an irritatingly obvious upward tilt could be observed on the corner of his mouth.

He's smirking, the little cocky bastard, Aomine thought as his partner suddenly took an interest in something behind him.

"We should run." Was all Kuroko said as he spun on the spot, trailing ebony black fabric in his wake. The weapons on his blood-red belt and the knives on his back jingled and clanged from the sudden movement as he dashed away and melted into the shadows. Aomine only managed a look around his shoulder before a guard was upon him, berating him for his scandalous public behaviour and charging him for public indecency.

"Like hell I will." He laughed, revelling in the appalled look on the man's face until the shock turned to outrage.

"We have a rebel on our hands men!" he sneered, brandishing his now drawn cutlass at the hooded assassin, "How about we teach him a lesson or two, eh?" The three similarly armoured men around him roared in approval as one by one they drew their knives, swords and hammers. This would have failed to phase Aomine, had not four more men arrived on the scene plus a crossbowman. He'd had a few bad run-ins with those damned shooters.

Time to go! He internally prompted as he turned tail and ran, crudely pushing past anyone who stood in his way. He could feel the pounding of his heart quickening with every step he took, pumping adrenaline around his body with the sudden acceleration.

"Get 'im! Don't let him get away!" One of the men behind him bellowed, followed by the whistle of a bolt not an inch from Aomine's ear, rebounding with a clatter from a stone wall. A clatter of heavy footsteps followed his trail, undaunted by his weaving through alleys and crowds. A wave of frustration flushed over him at his inability to lose them like Kuroko did. He sincerely hoped Tetsu wasn't watching; he could never stand the sight of the teen's disappointed face.

Aomine took another look over his shoulder to see that the group had grown and was fast approaching. A look ahead spelt even worse news, as a row of them lined up awaiting his arrival with weapons drawn. How predictable, he chides, as he swerves to a tiered set of boxes. With three consecutive leaps he traverses them like steps, launching himself upon some shop sign and from there onto the top of the building. He hears a cacophony of growls and gasps from the group behind him as he sprints across precarious tiled roofs. With speed and agility overpowering their unpractised climbing, he swiftly flings himself into one of the many curtained roof-gardens. Amazingly, by the time the now exhausted pack reached his hiding place they simply jogged right on past.

Gotta give it to him, Aomine reflected whilst casting his thoughts to his sneaky mentor, the hidey thing works.

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And that's all I've gotten to so far. It's funny because this tiny thing took me four hours. Perhaps practice will coax a more fluent stream from my thoughts to the page. I should have taken up creative writing, I have no idea how to paragraph. I just hit the enter button whenever I felt like it. I also apologise to all American readers for my British spelling habits. Thanks for reading xx