"I don't understand, mother," a young boy with red hair spoke, child-like features set in a mature frown. "Why don't you come see father?" He was sat before a grand piano, small hands placed on the black and white keys. Their pale color contrasted with the deep, rich mahogany of the wood. He turned his head to look at a woman, his crimson eyes blinking up at the slight figure he reffered to as 'mother'.
The woman he was talking to was slender, almost sickly so. She had the same red hair as the child, though it was less fiery as his. She stood by the large window, it's curtains closed. I don't like seeing the sky, my little angel, she had told him when he inquired about her insisting to hide the view seen from the windows.
Pale, long arms were hanging limply by a thin waist before the left hand reached to cover the right. A gentle smile appeared on her delicate, feminine features. "I will see your father soon, Sei-chan," she replied. Her glazed eyes diverted their focus from the boy, on the mirror hanging opposite to the pair. The woman's eyes turned sad as they took in their reflection, in which a boy sat with his fingers set on a piano, and curtains, shaped oddly, hanging behind him. "Don't you worry."
Noticing that his mother wasn't going to elaborate further, the boy nodded his head and continued playing the melody his mother chose for him, the sweet sound filling the room. "Alright, mother," He answered softly, young fingers masterfully playing a piece most would fail to.
He did wonder why is mother never sat, ate, drank or sleep, though. He also wondered - sadly - why his mother never touched him since she woke up from a long sleep two months ago.
As his innocent eyes focused on the piano, the woman shimmered - translucent - as the curtain moved due to a breeze, letting a silver of light pass through her.
Shiori Akashi gazed at her son, lovingly, and wiped a tear off her cheeks. No wetness came on the back of her hand, though.
Eleven years later, Seijuro met a boy with big, blue eyes and even bluer hair.
"I'm Akashi Seijuro. And you are?" he inquired, after asking the boy to join Seijuro for a while. He slipped his bag off his shoulder, placing it on the floor beside his feet.
He watched as the boy went over to pick up a basketball, and shot it into the hoop not far away. Seijuro was a little shocked to notice that instead of going through the hoop, as he had deduced from the seasoned veteran aura the blue haired boy gave off, the ball bounced off the edge and fell.
"Kuroko Tetsuya," the boy replied as he bent down to pick up the ball. Seijuro nodded in response.
As he gave Kuroko advice, he couldn't help the satisfaction he felt. Somehow, the moment he had seen Kuroko Tetsuya, he knew that Seijuro found what he had been looking for.
"Welcome back, Akashi-kun," Kuroko spoke, softly, as he gave Seijuro a small smile. The lights on the court shone on his face, making the sweat on his forehead glisten.
Seijuro gave Kuroko a smile of his own, hearing the Seirin Basketball team cheer about their victory. "It's good to be back, Kuroko." he responded, turning around to return to his team, ready to face them after leading them to a loss.
After they left the stadium, he and Kuroko went to have dinner together like they used to back in middle school. They caught up on what they had missed out in each other's lives.
It really did feel good to be back to his old self, Seijuro decided. Amazing, actually.
On the day of their graduation from high school, Seijuro came to visit the cyan-haired boy after their respective graduation ceremonies.
The train ride from Kyoto to Tokyo was tiring. Or rather, the excitement of meeting Kuroko after their last match was tiring. The long wait had finally come to an end.
As his eyes landed on a couple sitting adjacent to him, holding hands and talking sweetly, he entertained the idea of asking Kuroko to be his significant other. Seijuro imagined what it would be like - kissing and talking late into the night.
It all sounded strangely... appealing to him.
He broke out of his reverie when the train came to a stop, a voice through the crackling speakers announced the arrival to Tokyo.
As he stepped out of the train, his eyes scanned the area for a sky-blue head. A soft smile made its way on to Seijuro's face when he spotted Kuroko standing next to a signboard.
"Hello, Akashi-kun," blue eyes bore into his, a black-sleeved hand reaching out for a handshake.
Seijuro couldn't tell the exact moment when he decided to use that outstretched arm to pull the the smaller boy closer, pressing their chests together. He also couldn't decipher what made him say what he said afterwards.
"Date me, Kuroko."
Large eyes blinked up at him.
"I would like that, thank you."
But Seijuro could tell one thing very clearly: he was very pleased.
"Sei-kun, let's go home," whispered Tetsuya, his sweet Tetsuya, as the two of them watched their friends play basketball on the street court, their laughs and shouts mixing with the fresh spring air.
Seijuro turned his head to look down at his lover, who was looking at him with deep, blue eyes. "Kise would not be very happy about that, no, Tetsuya?" he asked amusedly, and took the blue-haired boy's left hand in his right, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of Tetsuya's hand.
The smaller boy chuckled, leaning his head up slightly to place a soft kiss on Seijuro's lips, shrugging. "Kise-kun won't notice we're gone until Aomine-kun beats him again," Tetsuya responded, "He's way too engrossed in trying to win to notice our absence."
Seijuro nodded, smiling. "As you wish, my dear Tetsuya," he joked.
Kise called later that day, crying about how Seijuro and Tetsuya abandoned him in the middle of a battle. Seijuro decided that even at age twenty-three, Kise Ryouta never quite matured.
Seijuro watched as his boyfriend of six years opened the box Seijuro had presented to him.
Standing on one knee wasn't easy at all, and it didn't help that their gazebo flooring was hard. Seijuro started intently, waiting for Tetsuya to react to his thought-out proposal. The wind picked up helpfully, bringing cherry blossom petals swirling around them. One got stuck in Tetsuya's beautiful baby-blue hair, the soft pink of the petal contrasting with the cool color of his hair.
Seijuro itched to get up and kiss his lover, who was taking torturously long in responding somehow.
"Ah..." Tetsuya stared awkwardly at the sliver-colored ring sitting in the black velvet box, the fairy lights causing the expensive metal to glint. He cleared his throat, eyes landing on Seijuro's, who gazed back at him with all the love he could muster in one gaze. "You're proposing, Sei-kun," he said, knowledgeably.
Seijuro blinked at him, waiting for Tetsuya to continue. When he realized that he was done speaking, Seijuro nodded slowly. For some reason, he was debating whether or not he was actually proposing. Maybe he was not. Maybe he just bought the ring because he felt like it.
"Yes, I am proposing," he decided with finality in his tone. "I wish to marry you, Tetsuya."
"Oh," the cyan-headed boy murmured.
"Marry me, Tetsuya."
After a moment of silence, Tetsuya muttered. "Aren't you going to kiss me now, Sei-kun?"
Seijuro frowned, confused. "But have you accepted my proposal?" His knee was numb.
"Yes, Seijuro, I have," he answered, before kneeling down and wrapping both his arms around his fiancé's neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
Seijuro didn't hide the smile that made its way onto his face, returning the loving embrace with all his enthusiasm.
Four months later, on a cold December morning, Tetsuya left to go to work while Seijuro was getting dressed for a meeting with a major multi-national company.
Seijuro held onto his fiancé a little longer than usual in their embrace that morning, for some reason.
Later that day, on a television behind a receptionist's counter, Seijuro saw the news in flashing colors of red and white.
BREAKING NEWS: SERIES OF CAR CRASHES IN DOWNTOWN TOKYO; SEVEN INJURED AND TWO KILLED
In the footage, he saw a baby-blue head drenched in a dreadful red color, pale skin stained with reds and browns and so many scratches.
Seijuro ran out of the building immediately, abandoning a million-dollar deal in a heartbeat.
Seijuro always thought that black was a color that suited Tetsuya.
But as he stood over the lifeless form of his lover's body, surrounded with sad white flowers and simple black, watching as people cried for the angel that resided in a human body, he decided that black was a color only meant for tears to soak into.
People wondered why Akashi Seijuro left the funeral of his loved one without even saying goodbye.
"Sei-kun, don't hurt yourself like that," his lover's soft voice spoke. "Please, Sei-kun,"
Seijuro kneeled before a shimmering, translucent form. Cyan hair and big, now dull blue eyes looked down at him with all the sorrow in the world. A pained sob escaped his lips as he desperately attempted to wrap his arms around Tetsuya, to embrace the one he loved.
"I can't, Tetsuya," he gasped, his voice muffled from where he rested his head against the cold floor.
Tetsuya caressed his hand over Seijuro's red hair, to no avail. He watched as his hand passed over the bright head like light.
"I'm sorry, Seijuro," he murmured, large eyes brimming with tears.
Seijuro placed his hands on his head, sobs shaking his body. Once a man so tall and proud, now turned into a weeping mess.
Pale, long hands again reached out to the floating figure. Seijuro's vision blurred with salty water as he tried, tried and tried to grasp on to the man he fell in love with. To feel that soft skin, to share that comforting warmth.
If only he could touch the ghosts he saw. If only he could understand.
Death is such a mysterious thing. Once in every thousand years, a person is born with the ability to see through the delicately thin wall between life and death.