N O T E: heyo this is my very first fanfiction and it's weird :P it's NOT EDITED so please excuse any grammatical errors you may find. ENJOY!
PROTECTIVE
/pruh-tektiv/
adjective—a nagging urge to keep someone from harm
i.e.—the Generation of Miracles when Kuroko arrived beaten up at their reunion
Kuroko Tetsuya didn't mean to agitate the basketball team of thugs so much. He just couldn't stand watching them kick little kids off of the court only after moments the kids arrived.
Kuroko was walking towards a reunion of the Generation of Miracles, one he was particularly looking towards, when he passed by the public court. A group of kids were just bouncing the orange ball between themselves, laughing, until a gang of high schoolers (upperclassmen) wearing red jackets arrived. One guy - the one Kuroko assumed was the gang's leader - curled his lips into a cruel sneer.
"Hey kids, mind if we take over?" he sneered. The kids stopped and the basketball was clutched between the hands of a seven year-old boy. All of the children were frightened as glaring eyes and cold smirks grew over them like overbearing shadows.
"B-but we just got here," the boy with the basketball replied nervously. "Do you mind waiting?"
"Actually, I do mind," the gang leader leered. He reached down and tried to pluck the basketball out of the kid's hand but the boy was stronger than anticipated. He held tightly onto the ball.
"Please?" the boy asked.
The leader's eyes narrow. "No," he growled as he then turned to wrenching the ball. He then chucked the basketball at the kids whom scattered like leaves. Shouting, they ran off of the court and towards somewhere more public. The only one left was the boy whose basketball was stolen.
"Hey, give it back!" the boy shouted, but his voice was quivering.
"No," the leader spat at the boy, who winced. Kuroko's usually straight-lined mouth curved downward into a frown. He approached the gang.
"Please stop," Kuroko said. The entire gang shouted in surprise. Some even jumped.
"Wha - ?"
"Where did he come from?"
"- magic!"
Through the surprise, they managed to recompose themselves. "Oye, who are you?" the leader demanded.
"Kuroko Tetsuya."
"Fuck off."
The boy gasped. "You need some soap for your mouth!"
Growling, the leader turned around. He grabbed the kid's hair and pulled on it, lifting the kid an inch off of the ground. The kid started gritting his teeth, trying to be tough and not scream. But tears leak into his eyes.
"And you know what you need," the leader asked dangerously low. "A fist in your face!"
The leader drew back his fist but Kuroko, using low presence, appeared between the thrown fist and the boy. The leader's knuckles connected with the cheekbone of Kuroko. Out of shock, the leader dropped the boy. Now crying, the boy sprinted in the other direction.
"What a coward," mumbled one of the thugs. He looked at Kuroko who was on the ground, rubbing his cheek that was sure to bruise, and then realization dawned upon him.
"Oye! You're the guy that beat us in the basketball tournament!" he cried. "What was the score?"
"Thirty-something to a hundred-and-something, I believe," Kuroko replied thoughtfully as he slowly picked himself up from the ground.
"W-where are your pals?" the leader stammered, backing away. The rest of the gang looked quite nervous as well.
A thought suddenly struck Kuroko. "Hmm, they're not here."
Uh oh...
The gang exchanged glances at each other, darted their eyes around the area, and then slowly grinned. This marked the time when Kuroko decided that his swelling cheek should have some ice on it and proceeded to walk back to the sidewalk, only to be stopped by an arm covered with a leather jacket.
"Now, now, where do you think you're going?" the leader chuckled as his eyes glinted. Kuroko gulped.
"Well, I do believe we owe you for beating us," the leader chuckled as Kuroko swore he heard knuckles being cracked. "So, I guess, what do you say boys? Let's...beat him."
Groaning and clutching his stomach, Kuroko spat out the metallic blood on a nearby bush. The gang has left him behind a row of bushes and walked off, laughing with ease.
"Nice one, Damasi-sama," one of the gang members laughed, clapping a hand in their leader's shoulder.
"Tch, nobody messes with us, am I right boys?" the supposed Damasi announced. "Let's go for a drink. Whadd'ya say?" The gang replied with a gleeful whoop as they headed towards the nearest bar, their backs turned towards Kuroko who was aching painfully all over.
Kuroko, silently thanking Riko-san for all of the intense basketball training or else he wouldn't not have the strength to get up, stumbled around, his vision hazy as he felt liquid oozing out from his cut skin and into his eye. Closing one eye, Kuroko took one step sideways but his knees betrayed him. He fell flat on his face and more blood splattered across his mouth from his nose. Groaning, Kuroko gritted his teeth as he blindly tried to make his way towards Akashi's apartment that was about two blocks away. He was aware that his cell phone probably was broken in his back pocket from all of the kicks he received that were scattered all over his body. He tried to shrug off the sharp throbs in his right shoulder but it was hard to because, well, his shoulder hurt. Yeah, even though Kuroko was beat up, he could crack a pun.
(A/N: in case you didn't get the pun: Kuroko couldn't SHRUG off the pain because his shoulder hurt. Shrugging is an act of of the shoulder...ahaha I'm so not funny. I wrote this chapter a while ago and when I was rereading it, even I didn't get the pun at first).
Izuki must be rubbing off on me, Kuroko thought absent-minded.
There were barely any people walking because today was suppose to be some big day for two Japanese colleges whose basketballs were playing each other in some tournament final so everyone was inside, their eyes glued to their TVs. Kuroko assumed that part of the reason why the Generation of Miracles were reuniting - to watch the game.
When it seemed like years, Kuroko managed to stumble up to an apartment with a red door. His breaths ragged and short, Kuroko just managed to hit the door, his arm muscles slacking off as soon as his fist hit the wood. Kuroko heard voices inside and he braced himself for the berating he would probably receive for not being more careful.
The red door swung open. "Kurokocchi! It's about time you - KUROKOCCHI!" Ryouta Kise shrieked, his happy-go-lucky personality disappearing at the sight of his favorite teammate beaten up.
"Don't shout, Kise!" snapped an irritated voice from inside: Shintarou Midorima. Kuroko was swaying on his feet, exhaustion slowly taking over his body. "What is it?"
Kise stood there, his eyes wide and shaking, as he bent down so Kuroko could collapse on him. Fearfully, he turned around and cried, "Kurokocchi's hurt!"
"Eh? How?" Midorima asked, walking to the apartment door. When he saw Kuroko in his devastated state, his emerald eyes widened in shock. "What happened to you?!"
"Eh? What's all the ruckus about?" asked a bored voice that followed the crunching sound of snacks. A purple giant loomed over utterly shocked Kise, Midorima, and barely-conscious Kuroko. The crunching sound of powerful jaws grinding chips into dust paused, and although it was only for half a second, it was a loud indication that Murasakibara Atushi was irritated (which mind you, rarely happened these days).
"Eh~? Kuro-chin what happened?" Murasakibara asked flatly as Midorima, being the most experienced in medicine out of the group, grabbed Kuroko by the torso as the teal-headed basketball player's knees couldn't support it's corresponding body. Kise and Midorima dragging the phantom player inside, they entered the living room where Aomine Daiki was snoozing off, sprawled on the red, plushy, couch. The Teiko ace player was taking advantage of how comfortable the plush couch was before the Generation of Miracle's terrifying and deadly captain returned from the convenience store.
"Wake up, Aomine. Get off the couch," snapped Midorima.
Aomine out of his afternoon doze. Peeking one eye open to reveal deep blue orbs, he took a glance at the body being supported by Kise and Midorima and hummed out sleepily, "Eh? Did you guys bring in a dead body? It sorta looks like Tetsu..."
Aomine found his apparent story of the Generation of Miracles finally committing their first crime more intriguing that dreaming about women with big breasts because he stretched his long and tan limbs outwards all while yawned loudly. He positioned himself so that he was sitting upright. He wasn't so surprised that such a thing happened. The entire famed Teiko team was crazy, from Akashi's scissors fetish to Murasakibara's bone-crushing obsession.
"That's because it is Kurokocchi!" Kise cried hysterically, waterfall tears streaming down his face.
"Be quiet, baka," Midorima snapped.
"Hah? A dead body?" Satsuki Momoi cried as she came into the living room. She shrieked at the sight of the 'dead body'. "I-it's that...Tetsu-kun?!"
"Eh? Tetsu? He's not dead," Aomine said through another yawn as he sat up on the couch, rubbing his eyes. "Has the game started? Where is - holy shit. Who's that?"
"I-it's Tetsu-kun!" Momoi wailed as she rushed over, dropping to her knees. "Dai-chan, get off the couch!"
Aomine didn't need to be told twice. Gently laying Kuroko on the couch, Kuroko's pain didn't allow him to drift into an unconscious state, but he wished he had been able to because he felt very embarrassed being seen in such a state in front of his former teammates.
"TETSU? What the hell happened to him?!" Aomine demanded, looking at Midorima and Kise for an explanation.
"He looks beaten up," Midorima analyzed. Kuroko's downward gaze confirmed it. Momoi clapped her hands over her mouth, Aomine growled, Murasakibara's chewing slowed down before resuming it's normal pace, and Kise's tears only streamed down his face faster.
"Murasakibara, I believe that you know Akashi's kitchen by heart from savaging it, looking for food," Midorima stated as he turned to the giant.
"Hmm, Mido-chin is very smart," Murasakibara noted. "Yes, I know where the First Aid Kit is. I shall go get it." As the giant made his way into the kitchen, he muttered to himself, "And I shall refill with the emergency snacks."
The fortune-obsessed shooter's ears easily picked up Murasakibara's comment. "Murasakibara, you shall not. Akashi went to the convenience store to get more snacks for you because you ate all of yours on the bullet train to Tokyo and frankly, none of us want to hear your hunger complaints. You can wait."
"Mido-chin is mean," Murasakibara also noted as the sound of wood cabinets opening denoted that he was actually looking for something other than snacks. "I found the First Aid Kit."
"Good. Bring it here," Midorima ordered. Murasakibara complied.
"Kurokok, this is going to sting," Midorima muttered as he dabbed cotton balls with rubbing alcohol. Quickly dabbing all of the open wounds, he tried to make it as quick as possible. During the entire process of cleansing Kuroko's wounds, Midorima's emerald orbs narrowed even further every time he encountered a nasty one. Kuroko held back his hisses behind his clenched jaw; the burning and stinging sensation unpleasant as always. Kise nervously fidgeted with his own fingers as he watched his favorite teammate, splattered with bruises and cuts, squirm in pain under the influence of rubbing alcohol. Aomine's tan fists were clenched by his sides as he bombarded his former shadow with questions, but received no answer, as Kuroko was trying to keep his pained hisses contained within his mouth. Murasakibara was chewing at a faster pace than normal, which to only the Generation of Miracles was a sign that Murasakibara's usual mood of nonchalance was replaced by irritation. Momoi was gazing at her beloved in absolute horror.
In the silence, one would detect that there was somehow a silent communication going on between the Generation of Miracles on how to best strike the most gruesome revenge on Kuroko's attackers.
"Those low bastards," Aomine growled as his eyes were flashing dangerously at the sight of Kuroko laying on the couch, his porcelain skin damaged. "Who did this?"
"Aomine-kun, it won't do much good if you go after them," Kuroko replied as soon as Midorima discarded the wet cotton balls, dampened by the rubbing alcohol and Kuroko's blood. "Besides, the game should be starting soon."
"Tch, stupid television games can wait," Aomine replied nastily.
"He's right, Kurokocchi," Kise perked up. Despite his use of a cheerful tone, his entire demeanor spelled trouble. Something in those golden eyes were flashing like a machine gun rather than sparkles. Maybe Kuroko was imagining things. Maybe the flashing in Kise's eyes were really all of the flashes of cameras Kise had to see everyday for his modeling career.
"Well, if you are to go after him then don't come to me, asking to treat your wounds," Midorima said stiffly, using his taped fingers to push his rectangular glasses further up the long bridge of his nose. "But then again, someone else will need medical attention rather than you all."
"I don't like how you're saying that, Midorima-kun," Kuroko said flatly. Even Midorima, who didn't exactly get along with Kuroko, was radiating a Kuroko-protective aura around him. The perfect shooter slowly unraveled the long roll of bandage tape as he winded it around Kuroko's head.
"How did this happen?" Kise asked and after, his gold eyes widened. "OH! Was it like the time where you confronted that one unfair basketball 'team' after our first practice match?"
Kuroko confirmed Kise's theory. "A group of high schoolers" - Aomine, Kise, Midorima, and Murasakibara all made note to confer an investigation about high school gangs to see which one of them messed with Kuroko - "were forcing some kids off of the basketball court and - ow - they just got a little - "
"A little?" Midorima huffed as he started to apply ointment.
Kuroko shot Midorima a blank look but a glare was visible behind it. "They just got a little physical and, uh, yeah." The entire room was silent except for the plasma TV that was showing some clips of the past basketball games each of the competing college teams had played, leading up to the championship, Murasakibara's crunching, and Aomine's heavy breathing.
"Well, Aka-chin is going to be mad when he finds out about this," Murasakibara noted, amused. Blood drained out of Aomine and Kise's faces as they recalled the time when Akashi found out that Kuroko was being bullied. Naturally, Akashi would've hired a private army to exterminate whoever was bullying Kuroko but thanks to Kuroko's persuasive liability, the bullies managed to land themselves in the hospital rather than a grave. For the rest of the school year, Akashi would frequently call Kuroko to make sure he was okay and the Generation of Miracles could be found discreetly trailing Tetsuya during and after school.
It wasn't just the captain that had this little Kuroko-protective-fetish, it was the entire Generation of Miracles. Kuroko's almost let a smile slip onto his face when he remembered during one of his years at Teiko, it was Valentine's Day and all of the members of the Generation of Miracles opened their gym lockers only to drown in an overflowing waterfall of sweets, cards, and candies. Murasakibara ended up eating most of everyone's chocolates but Kuroko's gym locker surprisingly found eight cards, each with a small box of chocolates and some even with a rose. Of course, Kuroko's sweets were snatched from him by his former teammates and deemed "given to the wrong person" as the Valentine's Day treats found themselves a new home in the trash bin. When Kuroko took a better look at the cards that came along with the treats, he indeed saw that the Valentine's Day treats were for him.
If his memory served his right, Kuroko's Teiko team once attended a training camp joint with another team. His infamous bedhead and innocent personality was so beloved by the other joining team that they even started inviting Kuroko to sit by them during lunch. One would see that behind the facade of this team, they were like a hungry pack of wolves eyeing their prey. This did not go tolerated by the Teiko basketball team. Naturally, the Generation of Miracles got their revenge by completely obliterating their opponents' confidence during a practice match. The joining team left the rent house the next day without a single microscopic trace of their existence. The Generation of Miracles's mood was uplifted shortly afterwards.
"Please don't tell Akashi-kun," Kuroko pleaded his team quietly. Everyone hesitated.
"Why should we?" Aomine asked crossly.
"Because if you do, it'll disrupt our reunion. And besides, it isn't worth it," Kuroko replied softly, his insides twisting. He felt horrible having to burden his teammates like this in such a disfigured state. It was suppose to be a fun reunion, not a babysit-Kuroko moment. Because of his small stature, he was never really one to try and pick a fight, already knowing the outcome. However, Kuroko wasn't able to use his Ignite Pass Kai on the gang members because they ended up injuring his hand first. Otherwise, Kuroko had a small feeling that he would've won the fight.
"Isn't worth it?" Momoi asked sweetly, a sinister smile playing on her lips. "Oh, Tetsu-kun, you're so funny."
"Momoi-san, I don't have any sense of humor," Kuroko pointed out dully. Midorima was in the middle of taping up Kuroko's fingers, which must've been the easiest task because that's an everyday thing Midorima does himself.
"Eh? Now that I think about it, it's been a while since I got this feeling," Aomine chuckled darkly.
"I agree with Momoicchi and Aominecchi!" Kise said eagerly, but in the same tone a murder would use when they announced they were going to kill someone.
"What feeling?" Kuroko asked, staring at his teammates suspiciously.
"Ah, I dunno how to explain it," Aomine sighed, scratching the back of his head. He didn't seem exasperated at all. In fact, he seemed horribly excited. "It's like a sudden rush of adrenaline and motivation to complete something?"
"Mmhmm. Mmhmm," Kise and Momoi both nodded, radiating dead flowers and daggers instead of sparkles. Murasakibara took out a chip and chomped on it, as if it were a person's head.
"Murasakibara, don't chomp so loudly," Kuroko said. "And Aomine-kun having motivation?"
"I don't get it often, but right now, I really feel like...ah, I dunno...like it'd be more fun using someone's head instead of a basketball to shoot hoops, 'ya know?" Aomine finished lamely.
"Mmhmm. Mmhmm," Kise and Momoi both nodded happily as fire started to set on their aura.
"No, I don't know," Kuroko said, a foreboding feeling settling in his stomach. He glanced at Midorima, who looked in agreement also.
"It would be more fun doing that. Mine-chin's right," Murasakibara agreed dully. "It'd be easier to...crush." Murasakibara applied a poison to his emphasized word along with snapping a poor chip between his fingers.
Kuroko was looking at his insane teammates warily. "Aomine-kun, Murasakibara-kun, Momoi-san, please don't do whatever you're planning on doing."
"Although it would be a nice change in balls for shooting," Midorima said slowly. "I do not wish to go through the dully tedious process of decapitation."
"Killjoy," Kise and Momoi pouted, but none the less psychotically.
"And also, the last thing Akashi needs is another reason to test his scissors' efficiency," the green-headed shooter added as he stood up, closing the First Aid Kit with a snap.
Kuroko nodded, thankful for Midorima's sensibility. "Please don't let Akashi-kun know about this."
"But he's coming back to his flat anyway," Aomine frowned.
"Which is why I'll be leaving," Kuroko replied.
"Hah? You're not in the condition, Tetsu-kun!" Momoi exclaimed.
"You need rest," Midorima frowned.
"No, I feel fine," Kuroko reassured, but lying at the same time. The last thing he wanted was everyone trying to fuss and worry about him. He hated it - it was such a selfish act. Everyone glanced sideways at each other, as if disappointed on missing out on a new game of basketball, just using human heads instead of the orange ball. "Thank you, Midorima-kun. Please tell Akashi-kun that I'm not feeling well, so I just couldn't make it."
That was true - Kuroko was feeling a little dizzy but not dizzy enough to not make it home. As Kuroko stood up, the temperature dropped to a winter's wind when there was the sound of hinges squealing softly and the door clicking in its threshold. A rustle of plastic bags was heard afterwards.
"Ah, you know I dislike it when people keep things from me."
Snip! Everyone froze, their eyes widening as their blood ran cold. Pink, green, purple, blue, and yellow hair all stood straight up.
"I hate it when people try to lie to me.
Snip!
"And I detest it when Tetsuya tries to get away from me."
SNIP!
Kuroko slowly raised his head, only to be greeted by a glittering pair of red and gold eyes, both mesmerizing yet so deadly. "Akashi-kun, thank you for letting me stay here. I must get going, though - "
SNIP! SNIP! "And who said you're allowed to do such a thing?" Akashi Seijuuro asked, his voice cutthroat but sounding like poisoned honey. Between the folds of his arm were plastic bags that contained colorful bags that Kuroko could only assume were the extra snacks. It was like the entire world held its breath when Akashi slowly approached Kuroko with a dark aura. Underneath his feet, Kuroko knew that Hell was rising. The snacks dropped to the carpet with a soft crumple. Heterochromatic eyes scanned Kuroko before reaching the conclusion that someone was having an early funeral. A hand shot out and before Kuroko knew it, his chin had been grabbed and tilted, forced to gaze into the merciless duel-colored eyes.
Gold like victory; red like war.
Akashi spoke suddenly: "Daiki, Ryouta, Shintarou, Satsuki, Atushi: question people around to see if they knew about this."
As if Akashi were a General of the world's most elite soliders, all the mentioned nodded cruelly as they left the flat, leaving Kuroko shrinking underneath the withering gaze of Akashi. The only one that handed Kuroko a pitiful gaze was Kise before being the last one to shut the door behind him. Kuroko swallowed nervously.
"A-Akashi-kun, this is hardly necessary," Kuroko found himself speaking. He also found himself on the deadly end of an emperor's glare. Nonetheless, Kuroko continued: "It was my fault for ending up like this. No need to make other people do the dirty work, Akashi-kun."
"Kuroko," Akashi said lowly, leaning in very close so that Kuroko could hear Akashi's breaths. "your fault or not, I will not tolerate you being in this sort of devastating condition, do you understand me?"
"But - "
"Do you dare to defy me?"
The room was silent. Death was impending. And Kuroko was anxious to get home.
"N-no, Akashi-kun," Kuroko replied like it were an already re-recorded answer. "But, I do believe I had the right to object."
"And yes you do. But whether it's your 'right' or not doesn't matter because it doesn't change the fact that you are in this unacceptable state, no? Now, tell me, Tetsuya - " Akashi leaned in closer. Kuroko could feel his former captain's hot breath on his trembling lips. They were only centimeters away...
"Tell me, Tetsuya - " A horrible chill dropped down Kuroko's spine. " - what should we do about this?"
Like the climax of a movie scene, the world seemed to slow down. The the song of the birds outside went dropped an octave, the light seemed to pour into the still room slower as it carefully showered over a red-headed maniacal and possessive captain and a teal-headed phantom. The two were locked in an unbreakable stare. Red to blue; gold to blue; red to blue; gold to blue. Kuroko's mind raced for an answer, although it already knew what kind of response Akashi was looking for. Now, it was a matter of if Kuroko should tell Akashi.
Kuroko decided on the world's deadliest gamble. He didn't even need to inhale a breath. "Akashi-kun, you should leave it be."
Red eyes flashed like sirens and Kuroko already knew he made the wrong choice. Gold eyes pierced Kuroko's. Kuroko's answer of letting it be was his first mistake. His second mistake was looking away to relieve his eyes. There was a sharp inhale from the male in front of Kuroko and before he was even aware of it, Kuroko was pushed to the floor, lying on his back. A dark shadow engulfed Kuroko. Cold and slender fingers cupped Kuroko's round chin and forced them to look up into the one who made Kuroko able to utilize his misdirection. Kuroko couldn't ignore the hammering of his heart as Akashi Seijuurou was topping Kuroko: his legs on either side of Kuroko's hips and one supporting arm beside Kuroko's left ear. Kuroko laid their completely motionless. It seemed like the pain from his previous beat-up had suddenly vanished like Kuroko during a basketball game.
The third and final mistake was Kuroko raising his hands to slightly push Akashi away. When his pressing hands were applying pressure to Akashi's sculpted chest, he could feel a growl rumble Akashi's stature. Kuroko was well aware this time when Akashi's lips were right on Kuroko's ear.
"My, my, Tetsuya. How flattering," Akashi mused. Despite all of this, his voice was spelling murder. "Defying me three, no, four times today. Do you know why I insisted you come to Rakuzen with me?"
Kuroko didn't respond. He wasn't suppose to.
"Because I had a very baaaad feeling that you would end up attempting to disobey me during your time at Seirin. But like always, I was right," Akashi mumbled lowly as he shot heated fumes of his breath carrying sinister into Kuroko's ears. Kuroko's brain well received the message and he was well trembling - more than a leaf during autumn.
"Now, I will ask again," Akashi continued. Kuroko's touch receptors felt something plushy brush against his ear as Akashi spoke his next words. Authority filling every single one: "What should we do about it?"
"A bar," Kuroko croaked finally. His voice had come sprinting back to him. "They went to a bar."
Whether it was an emotion or not, triumph could definitely be seen with a naked eye as it came pouring out of Akashi. Perhaps it was a reward or future incentive so that Kuroko wouldn't dare think of defying the Teiko captain again, but Akashi buried his face in the juncture between Kuroko's neck and shoulder.
"Very good," Akashi muttered. Kuroko was practically squirming in antsy as Akashi's lips that uttered everything absolute were continuously brushing against Kuroko. "Very. Good."
Kuroko didn't know if he wanted to scream out in frustration or scream out in relief when Akashi straightened himself up by standing with one corner of his seductive lips curled upwards. In a flurry of blurs, Akashi flicked his red phone open and dialed a number at the speed of light. The receiving caller picked up on the first ring.
"Shintarou, go three blocks from the basketball court in town between two large oak trees whose knot wholes are shaped like a pear. After that, do well to take the first right, then the second left, and you should end up at a black bar with a velvet curtain hanging over the windows. Make sure no one sees," Akashi spoke formally yet commanding. Kuroko was still on his back on the floor, trying to circulate oxygen through his lungs as he forgot how to breath. Akashi closed his phone with a click as he swooped down. Bridal style, Akashi carried Kuroko oh-so gracefully to a bedroom down the hall. The room was painted red with several shelves full of 1st Place trophies. There was a desk in the corner that had a single black lamp with a couple of papers by it. Kuroko noted to ask what kind of mattress Akashi slept in when he was laid against a bed with embracing covers.
For the first time that day, exhaustion rolled over Kuroko as his eyelids gained several pounds. They began to droop. The phantom heard receding footsteps.
"I will be back, Tetsuya," Akashi called. "Now be obedient and sleep, will you?"
Kuroko snuggled his face deeper into Akashi's red pillow as the bedroom door closed with an inaudible click. Kuroko finally found the drowsiness as sleep attacked him after he had prayed for the notorious gang members that decided to rub the Generation of Miracles the wrong way.
"Eh? What are you guys doing here?" Damasi, the notorious gang leader, asked in confusion as he was faced with his other beating-up buddies.
"Oh, I got a note to meet here because I won some free Japanese snacks and some food or something or shit like that," Yasagi, a guy with a buzzcut, replied nonchalantly. After a nice drink, the gang had parted ways but apparently that wasn't the case because they were all back together in an alley way where garbage was littered everywhere like bird seeds. Night had fallen and in do time, so would the gang.
"Hah?" a bleach-haired guy demanded, crossing his tattooed arms. "I got a message from that pink-haired, sexy waitress with the big tits to meet her here."
"Aw man, you got it good," Yasagi replied, slapping the assumed-to-be-laid guy on the arm. The said person grinned proudly.
"Wait, so what about you guys?" Damasi asked his other friends. They shrugged.
"We both got notes that luck was on our side and to receive our cash, we would have to meet here."
"That's funny," frowned a guy, his ringed lip glittering. "I was promised a limited collection of Horikita Mai-chan gravure magazines. She's so cuuuuute~!"
"You all got good stuff," complained another. "I was just told to meet here for some important business. I didn't have anything else to do so I just decided to do so."
"But don't you guys think it's funny that we're all here, in the same place?" Damasi frowned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Everyone else shook their heads, all eagerly awaiting whatever was promised to them in exchange for meeting in such a secluded area. Almost like Damasi and his gang would do when they wanted to...
Damasi's eyes widened. "Guys, I just thought of something...what if we were led here on purpose? Like it's a trap?"
"You're just paranoid about that blue-haired punk we met at the basketball court earlier," sniffed Yasagi. "You kept on bugging me about getting these 'bad feelings'. It's fine, Damasi. Relaaaaax. No one saw us."
SNIP!
"Huh? What was that?" Yasagi asked, frowning slightly. Everyone whirled their heads around.
SNIP!
"Where is it coming from?"
SNIP! SNIP!
"It's from above!"
SNIP! SNIP! SNIP!
"No, it's behind the trashcan!"
Snip.
"It's changing locations!"
Silence.
"What happened? What was that noise?"
"Was that...scissors?"
PLUNK!
It was as if there was a sudden spell cast upon the gang members that caused them to sudden become statues. They all froze in their position as their eyes slowly drifted behind them to see a pair of scissors with a red handle lodged in between two pieces of loose stone. As if scissors weren't hard enough to throw, it was a perfect shot.
"Damasi...you're bleeding," whispered the lip-ringed fellow, pointing to Damasi's cheek. Damasi raised a shaking hand to his cheek to indeed feel something wet. When he drew his hand away, he was looking at the sight of his own blood. Everyone looked from Damasi's cut to the scissors thrown at the wall. Something was telling them that whoever threw those scissors intended to miss.
"Oh, where do you think you're going?" sang a sweet voice of a young female girl. Momoi appeared in front of the guys wearing a black apron with the logo of the bar the guys had just exited out of. She had asked (read: threatened) a departing employee for their uniform. Her smile looked sweet, also, but everything about it was sinister.
"Hey! You're that waitress!" exclaimed the bleach-haired guy with the tattoos. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"Yup!" piped Momoi happily. "And to make it better, I brought along company!"
The rosette innocently stepped aside and watched in pleasure as the happy and perverted faces of the gang were morphed into utter mortification. At entrance of the alleyway, they found themselves blocked by a giant with stringy hair and disapproving eyes. The entire gang stumbled backwards as the giant advanced, crunching on something. Was it bones? Damasi made note to himself that it was only crackers, but who knows. A very powerful and dangerous jaw belonged to the giant.
"W-who is he?" stammered Tattoo Guy.
"He's a friend!" Momoi said happily. She stared at the group. "And I've got more of where he came from! Dai-chaaaaaan~."
WHAM!
The entire gang jumped six feet into the air as something was thrown with a tremendous amount of force at their feet. Whatever was thrown slammed against the ground with such force that it sounded like a gunshot at first. They recognized the thrown item to be -
"A basketball?" frowned Yasagi. "How - "
SMACK!
From between two buildings was a tanned male with dark blue hair and eyes streaming with danger. He held a basketball in between his two large hands - one hand was smacked the basketball. It didn't take a genius to conclude that this ganguro was trying to see how many heads he could knock off of shoulders in one throw.
Damasi noticed that he was being cornered. There was no way that he would get beaten by a sexy waitress, a tall guy, and a ganguro. Diving towards the nearest pile of trash, he brought out two glass bottles that once held beer. In another breath, Damasi flicked his wrist and hurdled one at the ganguro and the other at the giant. Damasi smirked with full knowledge that this ganguro and giant couldn't avoid being knocked unconscious by the glass bottles. After all, he was very well known to pull this kind of move whenever he got into a fight. No one could avoid the hurdled bottles. No one.
Oh, how wrong he was.
There was a silver whiz and the high sound of glass shattering. Red scissors embedded themselves in the same wall as the previous scissor. Damasi didn't hear the sound of the second glass bottle crash. He whirled around to see that the giant had -
"The giant caught the bottle?"
"No way! No one's ever done that before!"
So the giant's reflexes were beyond formidable.
"And what happened to the first bottle? It smashed all of a sudden!"
It was the scissors. The scissors were thrown at a precise time to intercept the bottle thrown at the ganguro.
"Who the fuck threw the scissors?" growled Damasi into the open air.
"Akashicchi's aim is no less perfect," sighed an extra voice that belong to a blonde man with a single earring. He resembled the sexy waitress when it came to smiling - totally sadistic and maniacal. He was radiating with pain and murder. Heck, Damasi wouldn't be surprised if those blonde guy was a masochist.
"Tch," snorted the ganguro, crossing his arms. His eyes were still locked on Damasi. Suddenly, Damasi's bile wouldn't go down this throat.
"Who the hell are you freaks?" demanded Damasi. Irritation flashed across the blonde's face but it was immediately replaced by an ominous smile.
"Kise Ryouta," the blonde said while flashing a peace sign. He slowly strode over towards a pile of garbage and picked up another empty glass bottle. Testing the bottle in his hands, Kise Ryouta locked eyes with Damasi. Raising his hand, Kise flicked his wrist and Damasi saw a flash of glass zooming towards his face. Damasi couldn't react fast enough - the glass bottle hit his forehead and smashed into a thousand little glistening shards that scattered across the ground. Damasi staggered backwards, clutching the impact area. Blood was starting to rise.
"I would've thrown it harder but Akashicchi wants the leader," Kise pouted. He was like a demonic child.
"What the hell?" cried Yasagil
"That's Damasi-sama's move, though! No one can do that!"
"He just...copied the move!"
"What the fuck is going on?"
"Wait a moment," muttered Yasagi, his eyes trembling in fear. "Kise Ryouta...copying...don't tell me...he's one of the Generation of Miracles!"
Simultaneously, everyone's eyes widened in horror. Their blood ran frozen as they stood there paralyzed. Feet glued to the ground by hard stares. What do they do what do they do what do they do what do they do. Damasi would be lying if he said that the outcome of the oncoming fight would be in his favor. He recognized the ganguro as Aomine Daiki and the giant as the purple Murasakibara Atushi. Something told the gang leader that the sexy waitress was Momoi Satsuki.
"Aren't they missing some people?" muttered someone. "I thought there were five of them, excluding the sexy waitress."
"Yes, we are missing someone," sneered a disembodied voice.
Something. Something about that voice. Damasi had never heard anything so cold or chilling or so promising in blood. A voice that a cold-hearted killer would use as it approached it's victims. Damasi found himself praying - an act he had never done in his entire life. Praying that he would make it out in one piece with a beating heart and an active brain. Death was an option in this scenario. Out of the shadows was hair as red as blood and a single gold eye that seemed to dig into any soul. Damasi found himself thinking of a ridiculous idea that consisted of the possibility that Akashi Seijuuro was reading his thoughts.
How did he know it was Akashi Seijuuro? Well, how could he not?
"And we are missing someone because of your behavioral issues," Akashi continued. He raised a hand to show them that the emperor's fingers were laced with yet another pair of scissors. This time, the blades shorter but it looked like it was meant for speed. Like it was meant to go the speed of a bullet. "You caused quite a mess with one of our members. And we're just here to clean it up."
The red scissors opened and closed as if it were cutting the life line of every single gang member.
Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN, DAMMIT! No matter how loudly Damasi thought those words, his knees were jelly and were shaking. Someone in his gang buckled their knees and collapsed to the ground. You've never known fear unless you've gone head to head with an infuriated Akashi.
"Luck has left your side," sniffed another voice. Midorima Shintarou. "May misfortune bestow forever upon you."
That night, no matter where you are in Japan, you could hear the shrieks and screams of terror coming from a lone alley caused by five basketball players that were all just simply protective.
END
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