HanaKuro: Arbitrary Split Boat – Part 3

Kuroko Tetsuna

Kuroko Tetsuna breathed a quiet exhale as she and Hanamiya Makoto neared the train station. Dismissing the tenseness in her stomach, she followed his movements from the length of his stride to the ease of his posture with subdued eyes. There was a cavalier quality to his gait even though his silence itself held undercurrents of preoccupation.

"Stare at me any longer and I might just misunderstand your intentions Miss Kuroko." Hanamiya turned to her with a taunting smirk as they came to a stop in front of the station. It was notably deserted despite the fact that the night was still relatively young.

"Prolonged eye contact can have several different meanings," Kuroko began, unflinching. "You'll have to be more specific about which one you believe me guilty of."

"Well," Hanamiya lowered his chin until he was nose to nose with Kuroko, so close that the mere fact she stood her ground was impressive. "Aggression, affection, and attraction are the usual suspects."

"I supposed there's no prize for guessing which one you have in mind?" Kuroko pasted on a smile of nonchalance as she scrutinised the eyes staring back at her.

It was amusing how easy it was to increase the intensity of a stare, whether it be dominant or romantic in nature, just by reducing how often one blinked. But, the interesting thing was, Kuroko couldn't decipher which one of the two varieties Hanamiya was staring at her with; not that she was surprised by the lack of clarity, given how adept the man was at deception.

They must have made quite a sight, staring into each other's eyes in such a public setting. Anyone passing by without full knowledge of their relationship would have been forgiven for thinking that they were lovers, instead of… well, whatever it was that they were.

"Huh," Hanamiya scoffed, holding his palms up and out as he retreated from Kuroko. His expression held a note of mockery.

"You really are an impenetrable woman."

Hanamiya Makoto

The easy smile playing at the corners of his mouth ebbed away as Hanamiya Makoto stalked off, his face a marble effigy of contempt.

He was losing. Kuroko Tetsuna was beating him.

He had been mere centimetres from her face; his breath brushing the living moistness of her full pink lips. Yet, the infuriating woman hadn't at all been disconcerted by their proximity; or if she had – gave no indication of it. Not even a tenuous dilation of her pupils, which would've been pronounced given that her irises were such a beautiful shade of blue. The thought hardened his features. The Nordic blue of her eyes were full of life, compassion, and unquenchable warmth. So much so that they amazed and agitated him in equal measure, because not a single ounce of that warmth was directed toward him.

Hanamiya wished he could just dismiss it all as part of the mind games women loved to play on men, but he was smarter than that, even though he hadn't been vigilant enough to stop himself from making the mistake of pursuing a character like Kuroko Tetsuna – an honest character.

His feelings toward her kind lied on the same continuum as antipathy and resentment. People like her lived their lives in contentment because they stayed true to a kind of authenticity that meant never having to fabricate stories, lies, or excuses; and, consequently, never fearing of being caught in those lies.

Hanamiya resisted the urge to punch something as curses fell from his mouth. It was a difficult pill to swallow, since that rationale meant that all this time, Kuroko was simply counting the seconds until he was out of her life; that her indifference was the result of nothing more than a lack of motive.

She saw no incentive in him.

Kuroko Tetsuna

It was a rainy day, two weeks later. The deluge had commenced at sunrise, kept on steadily till sunset, and by proper nightfall, it had dissolved into a light mizzle enveloping Tokyo. For most people, it was the sort of weather that beckoned an early night; hence Kuroko Tetsuna's surprise when a knock came from her front door.

There was a pensive shimmer in the shadow of her eyes as the door opened to reveal someone she had not-so-secretly hoped would go away like a headache in the path of a painkiller.

The light drizzle had covered Hanamiya Makoto's jacket with a fine mist. A lock of his full black hair fell a little forward onto his forehead, ever so slightly dampened by the precipitation. His brows and eyes were startling against his fair skin, but the firm mouth that had always curled as if constantly on the edge of laughter was now set in a visibly tense line.

"What are you doing here?" Kuroko said as surprise siphoned the blood from her face. How had he known where she lived?

"I…" He stood there, tall and annoyed. "I was in court today."

Kuroko's mind whirled at his dry response. "Did you lose?"

His taupe eyes clawed at her like talons as his curt voice lashed at her. "Of course I won. Who do you think you're talking to?!"

Kuroko caught herself glancing uneasily over her shoulder at the tone of his voice. She had a much stronger guard up now. "Then I shall repeat my earlier question. What are you doing here?" Her composure was a fragile shell around her. "At my doorstep?"

"Because," He drew a breath, releasing it before continuing. "I had never come so close to losing. All because I couldn't focus. All because of you."

Kuroko entertained the thought of slamming the door in his face. Nonetheless, she retained her affability as she met his accusing eyes without flinching; watching his mood veer sharply from irritation to anger as he recounted how she had apparently managed to undermine his efficiency in court earlier that day. If it wasn't for the middle-aged housewife from next door emerging from her apartment, placing a wrinkled finger to her equally wrinkled lips, and shushing him, Kuroko was sure Hanamiya's tirade would've carried on far longer than it actually did.

Kuroko watched with acute and jarring anxiety as Hanamiya Makoto caustically barked at her neighbour. "Shut up!" The ill-concealed insolence in his tone forbade any further argument from the older woman, but Kuroko knew she had only seconds to act before things truly went south.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Bafun." Kuroko bowed, hoping that her anger would somewhat abate with the gesture until she had the chance to make a more suitable apology. For now, she had to deal with the abrasive man behind her. She pushed him into her apartment before he could cause any more damage.

Hanamiya Makoto

"That was uncalled for." Kuroko flashed Hanamiya a look of disdain once they were alone in her apartment. "Mr Hanamiya," Cold eyes sniped at him. "What are you doing here?"

A shadow of annoyance crossed Hanamiya's face. He didn't answer the question – he couldn't have. Not without revealing just how much she affected him. The past two weeks had been a minefield of distractions for Hanamiya. In spite of his busy schedule, thoughts of her had intruded into his days with the intensity of a proctologist with his finger up someone's anus.

It was a shock to the senses.

Kuroko let out an audible breath at Hanamiya's lack of response. "Have you calmed down now? Will you please tell me what's going on?"

Hanamiya ground his teeth at her benign smile, as if dealing with a temperamental child. "Don't treat me like I'm your student. I'm not one of those babies still attached to their mother's teats." The heavy lashes that shadowed Kuroko's cheeks flew up, and Hanamiya used that instant of astonishment to grab her arm and throw her onto the sofa.

She landed with a thud, momentarily speechless as he loomed over her. Yet, it was blindingly obvious that she was way beyond intimidation. She simply waited, lying there beneath his body, challenging him to go through with it; no outcry of defiance; no protest of resistance. Her eyes followed his without haste, but with unhurried purpose.

He was irked by her cool, aloof manner. It was enough to turn his knuckles to the colour of bone.

"I want to be with you." The admission was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason.

Kuroko took in a quick, sharp breath before snapping her mouth shut, stunned by his bluntness. Through the roaring silence, she breathed one word.

"No."

"Why?" His tone was relatively civil in spite of it all.

"Because I do not feel that way about you." Her delicate face was full of strength, shining with a steadfast and serene peace.

"You don't have to." Blood began to pound in his temples, his mind a crazy mixture of hope, frustration, and desire for immediate gratification. "Our relationship could be purely physical." His tone was velvet, yet edged with steel. "I can give you anything you want in return."

Kuroko permitted herself a withering glower. "My respect for you is deteriorating very rapidly, Mr. Hanami-."

"Fuck respect, it's going to hell with the rest of me on a first class ticket anyway," he interrupted her vehemently. "I want you." He repeated. "Isn't this the kind of honesty you hold in such high esteem?"

For an instant, Hanamiya's glance sharpened when Kuroko's gentle laugh rippled through the air. She had a wonderful low laugh, soft and clear; making his battle of personal restraint easier said than done. For a long moment, she looked back at him, studied his face deliberately, feature by feature.

"You have a perverted interpretation of honesty."

He parted his lips to voice his objection, but Kuroko didn't give him the chance to retort. "No," she took it back. "It might be more accurate to say that you are so good at telling falsehood, you've even managed to lie to yourself."

"What the hell are you on about?" Hanamiya demanded.

"You're in love with me."

Loaded with ridicule, her voice was like an echo from an empty tomb.

"Bullshit." He was hurtled back to earth when the reality of her words finally struck home.

"Then, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?" Her voice was smooth but insistent, uncompromising yet oddly gentle. It sent a deep, sensual ripple of awareness through him.

A cold, congested expression settled on Hanamiya Makoto's mien; one of pained tolerance. Again, he had no answer to that simple question. He gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw tighter; furious at his own vulnerability to her. A raw and primitive grief overwhelmed him as he felt the nauseating sinking of despair overcome his person.

She was right.

He had fallen for her. Hanamiya Makoto had lost. To her. Kuroko Tetsuna – a woman who had absolutely no interest in him. His eyes darkened with pain, but his pride concealed his inner turmoil as he tried to force his confused emotions into order. He was unwilling to face her. Yet, he was unable to turn away. What had happened to the unflappable young man of yesterday?

Nevertheless, before long, his mind was working overtime again to mask his mental chaos.

"I could take you right here and now if I wanted to." A suffocating sensation tightened his throat as he was assaulted by his sick yearning. "I could have you now. You could never overpower me."

Kuroko shrugged in mock resignation. "Go ahead. If it would get me out of your system, if this is all that it will take for you to leave me alone, then I could endure a few minutes of discomfort."

"Is that all that I am to you?" He was assailed by a terrible sense of bitterness. "A mere discomfort?"

"Yes."

Kuroko Tetsuna was an honest character, one who didn't always know when directness was unwelcomed or unnecessary. She regarded life in such extremes of black or white that her forthrightness often came across as being overly blunt. Nevertheless, the defeat left Hanamiya immobile. In opportunity, he found a mindless solidity that helped camouflage the deep despair of heartache. Should he just have her? Have her, get her out of his system, walk away, and forget about her?

A glazed look of dejection began to spread over his face.

It was impossible.

His thoughts tasted like gall. However, he had reached the point where his feelings for her had to be resolved. The day of reckoning couldn't be postponed forever, and he could never just be with her once. Hanamiya knew he'd never be able to walk away if he had her. That was just how powerful she was. She had power over him. All because he had challenged the wrong opponent and let himself fall so in love with her. If he took her, it would only complete her power over him.

He would never be able to escape her.

At the thought, he removed himself from her. He sat very still, his eyes narrow as he heard Kuroko rise form the sofa with a grateful sigh.

Her hair had fallen out the loose bun. A wealth of rich, tousled blue hair hung in long graceful curves over her shoulders and tumbled carelessly down her back like strands of lustrous glass. Her beauty was exquisite, fragile… Yet she possessed a strength and dignity at odds with the slenderness of her body.

Hanamiya's head bowed and he remained in an attitude of frozen stillness.

Curse her. She was so damn beautiful. He hated how in love he was with her. It was the first time he had ever fallen in love. He could barely withstand the impact of the experience.

He stretch his long legs casually before him as she sat forward, scrupulously gathering her hair into a thick ponytail. Hanamiya watched her graceful movement and scoffed internally at how innocent she looked, deceptively delicate. However, she was a black widow, and even the most ignorant of people knew that those most at risk from the females of the species are male black widow spiders, hopeless suitors to femme fatales with a tendency to eat their mates. And, just like the arachnids and their macabre behaviour that gave them their name, he was sure that Kuroko Tetsuna was going to be the death of him.

He was a fool.

Kuroko Tetsuna

Kuroko pushed stray tendrils of hair away from her cheek. She sat and watched, silently anticipating Hanamiya Makoto's next move. He was a devious man. People like him lie, cheat, and manipulate to get what they want, and don't often care if their methods hurt others. Such behaviour was second nature to them, hence the penchant for it to bleed from professional or goal-oriented relationships into personal dealings. She had come across many a student whom, like him, had ethical lines that were much more flexible than what society deemed appropriate. It predisposed them to shifts in morality, creating a slippery slope down a dark road.

Dipping his head slightly, Hanamiya asked, "What would it take for you to fall in love with me?"

Tilting her head to one side, she offered a slanted look at him. "I really don't believe any relationship between you and I would be healthy."

He shook his head decisively. "I'm trying to compromise." She settled into the deep red cushions. Devious characters like him were great at getting things done. When traditional methods fail, they could always be depended upon to discover alternate techniques to achieve their goals. Still, Kuroko could tell; he hated the faint desperation in his own voice.

Kuroko became aware of another kind of excitement as Hanamiya's words sunk in. She reached out and pushed back a wayward strand of dark hair. Her face creased into a small smile.

"I'm not going to lie. After all that, your chances are looking pretty dismal. It's going to take a lot to win my heart."

Hanamiya's tight expression relaxed into a grin.

"I had expected as much."

Now, don't get mad. I know it's no good, but getting to the point of fluff, babies, and wife!kuroko with this pairing requires a different story altogether, and I don't have the skill to write something that long. I apologise to those who took the time to suggest baby names only for this mess to happen. If nothing else, at least I gave it an ending right? (*nervous laughter*)

No?

Then, I shall return to retirement and reflect upon my mistakes.

P.S. Arbitrarily Split Boat simply means Irrational Crack Ship, because that is what this pairing is to me.