Betrayal In Its Most Simplest Form

Chapter 3

Loud crashes sounded from outside the door of Kuroko's room. There were the sounds of glass breaking, dishes falling, and possibly-valuable objects thrown against the innocent door. Kuroko cringed and dug himself deeper under his blankets. Ibuki had returned home a couple of hours ago, and the constant crashes against his bedroom had continued endlessly.

"Tetsu-ya-k-u-n," Ibuki's sweet, poisonous voice crooned right outside the locked door. "Come and greet your mother, Tet-su-ya-kun." Shivers traveled down Kuroko's back. He fought to keep his tears back and remained silent, acting as if he were absent, just as his father told him to. "I know you're in there, Tetsu," his mother seductively purred. "I won't hurt you. Just open this door."

I have to call Otou-san, Kuroko dimly realized, but his phone was on his desk, and he was too paralyzed to take the heavy blankets off of him and reach for it. He was afraid he would somehow make noise from reaching that long one-foot distance from his bed to desk. His mother's sick voice and constant knocking made his blood run cold, so he was simply frozen on his bed.

"Tet-su-ya," Ibuki's voice turned cold. "It's not nice to keep your mother waiting. Where have your manners gone? Do I need to beat them into you, again, Tet-su-ya?"

The shaking started. Kuroko's body trembled in fear at the words and a few tears did leak from his bloodshot eyes. Go away, he begged silently. I'm not here. I'm invisible. Please, go away. There was a reason he had become so invisible. He wasn't born with being a "shadow". He trained himself as one.

"This is your last chance, Tetsuya," his mother hissed. "I don't care if it's locked. I'm going to get the screwdriver and take out this knob. Do you want that, Tetsu?" His name sounded disgusting from her lips. When he didn't answer, Ibuki's footsteps stomped far away from his room. Kuroko waited for what seemed like forever, hoping that the silence was a sign of hope. The hope grew bigger as seconds passed by without incident: until there was the sound of metal clinking together.

Kuroko's heart jumped. She's really doing it? She's going to break into my room? He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut. This was the one time where he hated being so weak, so helpless, so dependent. Even on the basketball courts, he needed someone. Without a partner, he would be nothing.

"I warned you, Tetsuya," his mother sang. "Once I get this knob off, I'm going to teach you a lesson about manners."

Kuroko realized he had to move. He had to escape. The thought of him surviving got him out of his paralysis. He yanked off his blanket covers. Cool air reached him, and he was able to take in a deep breath after hours of limited oxygen under the sheets. Gently, Kuroko pulled himself up—mindful of his ribs and head injuries—to swing his legs over the bed. He wobbled to an upright position, but quickly hunched over from the sudden pain around his abdomen area. His breath was sucked right out of him.

"You better not be running, Kuroko Tetsuya," Ibuki warned. "You wouldn't get the chance, anyway. The first two screws are off . . ."

The statement itself had the injured teen gritting his teeth and hobbling over to his jacket that hung on a coat rack. Quickly putting it over his naked upper half, he clumsily slipped on his extra pair of basketball shoes he kept under his desk. The last thing he grabbed was his phone.

"One more screw, my disobedient son."

He swallowed. Kuroko knew he didn't have time. It was only a matter of time before his mother came in and caught him. As fast as he could, he walked over to his large window and opened it. A ladder trap, activated every time the window opened, worked as usual; a long, swing ladder dropped down against the wall. His father had taught him this trick ever since Ibuki had become violent.

Ignoring the pain, Kuroko pushed his body through the window, his feet steadily planted on the third step of the loose ladder. Pale, clammy hands gripped the dusty window sill before they came down to the first step. The ladder trembled beneath his weight, which wasn't much, but it held. With exaggerated carefulness, Kuroko began to descend down the ladder.

"Tetsuya!" an angry shriek as him stop in the middle of his descent. He jerked his head up and froze as his mother's face popped through the open window. "How dare you try to run away, you ungrateful brat! So this is how you've been escaping me, hm? Well, we'll just get rid of the problem." Ibuki's face distorted into an ugly, sadistic smile. She held out a pocketknife and twisted it out in the air, the light hitting on the sharp metal. The knife glinted evilly. "We'll see how you survive the fall, Tet-su-ya-kun," Kuroko's mother drawled.

Said boy widened his eyes as his abuser set the knife against the ropes that held the ladder. She started sawing it slowly, teasingly. "N-no. Please don't, Okaa—" Kuroko's plead was cut off by a cry of his own. The ladder collapsed suddenly, and the teal-haired boy could feel himself falling toward the ground.

Before he knew it, gravity took a toll on him, and his back slammed against the concrete ground. Blood hacked from his mouth right as the contact was made. A scream tried to escape, but even his brain couldn't process that. His head was dizzy from the new level of torture. It hurts. Kuroko could feel blood seeping from the large gashes made from the fall. He was dimly aware of his mother's laughter.

"That looks like it hurts, Tetsu. Tell me, does it hurt?" Ibuki taunted from the window. "Does it hurt to move? Oh, my poor, little son. Don't move an inch, I'll be right down."

I'll be right down. I'll be right down. I'll be right down. Move. Run. Escape. Warning signals blared in his brain. I have to move, Kuroko thought desperately. I have to run. Despite the searing burn on his back and his legs, he managed to roll onto his side and shakily stand up. Then, probably the biggest mistake of his life, he began to run.

The pain was simply indescribable. It made Kuroko want to scream, to collapse, to sob, to give up. He ran clumsily, always about to trip over his own two feet every couple of steps. Some bystanders looked at him strangely. Unfortunately, running with a trail of blood wasn't the correct way to become invisible. Kuroko overheard some of the comments:

"Should we call the police?"

"That poor boy! What happened to him?"

"Should he help him?"

Help, please, Kuroko wanted to say. He wanted to tell them about his mother, the abuse, the pain. His brain didn't allow him, though. The only thing his body did allow him to do was run. The only reason he didn't stop and collapse was because of the results that would be followed with his mother.

A familiar café popped up before him. People made way for him as he ran toward it. There should be a secret—there it was. The first lucky thing that happened to him today. When Kuroko was younger, he would always play near this café, at a secret spot only the owner knew and allowed him to play. It was behind the building, where two overgrown gardens full of weeds made a 'hiding place'. It was completely secluded. And since no one dared to go through the field of weeds, rarely anybody came here.

Kuroko stumbled through the weeds, the feeling of fatigue catching up to him. Before he could make it to the open space, his legs gave out under him.

A groan escaped from him. Blood dribbled from the chapped lips from biting his tongue so hard while running. Something throbbed on the back of his head. Somewhere through the pain though, Kuroko had enough sense to call someone from the phone he had clutched so faithfully during his trip. He didn't call his father.

The person he called picked up on the first ring: "Yes?"

"A-Akashi-kun," he croaked.

"Tetsuya. What is it?" The former captain of Teiko's basketball team asked immediately

It took a long while before Kuroko could answer. "Help me, please. It-hurts."

"Where are you?"

"Near—the—café," he managed to wheeze out. "Where we used to play."

Akashi clucked in tongue. "You're lucky I am nearby. Stay there, and do not move. I will be there shortly."

He didn't get to answer before the line disconnected.

~Setting Skip~

Seijuro Akashi ran through the streets, the destination already in his mind. His speed was not unheard of, and it surpassed everybody's from the Generation of Miracles. A pair of sharp scissors that stuck out in his front pocket was not unnoticed by a few pedestrians.

He knew of Kuroko's condition. Oh, yes, he knew. And if his Tetsuya was injured yet again from that woman, he would make sure the woman regret it. Yet plotting a murder wasn't on his top priorities list right now; finding Kuroko was number one.

If he means the café, then that means . . . Ah, here it is. Akashi approached the small building and took a left. He was aware of the hiding spot Tetsuya went to whenever he wanted to be alone. It has been a silent secret between them since. "Tetsuya," Akashi demanded as he traveled through the weeds.

"Aka . . shi-kun?" a weak voice responded. The hetero-eyed teenager picked up his pace toward the voice.

Finally, Akashi managed to reach his former teammate. He could see the weak boy was fighting the urge to pass out. The injuries were worse than he thought as blood seeped out slowly from the wounds. Fury raged through his body. How dare—how dare that woman touch his Tetsuya? His hand twitched toward his scissors.

"A-ka-shi-kun." Kuroko had a difficult time pronouncing his name. "You came."

"Of course I came," came Akashi's terse reply. He came over to kneel over the teen. "What hurts you most?"

"My back," Tetsuya said quietly.

The short captain sighed and took out a roll of bandages from his pockets. "I'm going to temporarily wrap your leg and head wounds. Don't you dare pass out, Tetsuya, do you hear me?"

For some reason, Akashi's commanding voice comforted Kuroko. "Hai," he whispered.

He managed to wrap the major gashes quickly and efficiently. There was no pain added to it, and Kuroko was extremely relieved, but his back was now causing him agony. "Akashi-kun," the smaller rasped. Abruptly, a pair of calloused yet warm hands carefully took his tiny frame into an embrace. Kuroko didn't protest and buried his face into his rescuer's shoulder.

"It's going to be all right," a commanding voice next to his ear said. It was unlike the former captain to speak such words. "I am here."

Remaining blood stained Akashi's jacket, but it didn't matter, because now he had to focus on healing the fragile boy in his arms. "My back . . ." Kuroko said.

A hand ran through his messy, teal locks. "You can go to sleep, now. It won't hurt anymore."

And Kuroko did just that. He finally gave into his body's needs and passed out in Akashi's arms.

~Setting Skip~

The hetero-eyed teen managed to walk up the steps with an unconscious boy in his arms. He stuck in a gold key to his apartment door and opened the door knob with ease. Kuroko's body weight was almost close to nothing, so it did nothing to hinder the former captain.

Akashi frowned at his weight. I'll need for him to eat more.

Carefully, Seijuro set Kuroko on the couch. The movement made the pale boy groan, but it didn't wake him up. Akashi grimaced and quickly dug in his pockets to pull out his phone. Texting faster than usual, he typed:

Come to my place immediately.

This is an order. Tetsuya is injured.

Satisfied, he sent the text and threw his phone carelessly, knowing it would land on the chair behind him.

Then, he pulled out the first-aid box, and started to tend to Kuroko's wounds.

~Time Skip~

"Is Kurokocchi all right?" Kise Ryouta cried as soon as he slammed open Akashi's door. "Is he okay? Does he need to go to the hospital? Do I need to make Midorima's train go faster so we can get him to heal—?"

"Ryouta." The cold voice made Kise stop mid-sentence and shiver. "You will do well to keep your voice down."

The blonde finally blinked and realized Akashi and Kuroko were right in front of him, sitting on the couch. Actually, the former was sitting on the couch. The latter was curled up against the feared captain, his eyes closed. "S-sorry, Akashicchi."

Hetero eyes narrowed at him for a second, before he gave a curt nod to the copier. Kise sighed in relief and made his way to Kuroko. He knelt down right in front of Akashi's legs and stared at the injuries inflicted on the invisible boy. "Is it who I think it is?"

"Yes. I am assuming."

Kise cursed softly.

Soon, the whole Generation of Miracles arrived at Akashi's complex. Each player had the same reaction as Kise, more or less. Aomine had cursed louder, resulting in a reprimand from the feared teen. Midorima shook his head silently and pressed his lips together in a straight line. Murasakibara sadly munched on his chips and even offered some to Akashi, who declined the offering.

The Generation of Miracles knew what kind of living Hell Kuroko went through when his parents arrived home. They knew what his mother was capable of, and how much pain she could put the boy through before he broke. All of them had seen enough of a broken Kuroko, and it was something they all shared in hatred.

Midorima sighed and sat next to the sleeping boy, hesitantly ruffling Tetsuya's hair. "So troublesome," he spoke softly.

"Will Kuro-chin be all right, Aka-chin?" Murasakibara asked morosely.

"I do not know, Atsushi. Have a seat first. You cannot pace in my apartment at your height."

The purple-haired mumbled an apology, which was accepted, and sat down.

"Of course he'll be all right!" Aomine protested. "Kuroko may look weak, but he's strong! He survived all those years—"

"But how many more can he take?" The number-one shooter cheerlessly pointed out. Teiko's ace didn't know how to answer that.

"Damn it." Easy tears came to Kise's eyes. "Why does it always have to be Kurokocchi? Why does he always have to suffer?" Ryouta wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled. "It's not fair. He doesn't deserve this."

Akashi pursed his lips at his old teammates' comments. He did agree. Tetsuya didn't deserve any of his pain. He didn't need an ungrateful mother who could not see how lucky she was to have Tetsu as a son. He didn't need any more suffering.

The red-haired pressed a soft kiss to the boy's clammy forehead before addressing the Generation of Miracles, "I understand you are all upset. You are right, Ryouta. Tetsuya does not deserve this unnecessary suffering." He paused, and then said, "No one is to know about this, even Seirin, Tetsuya's team . . . No, especially Seirin. Make sure at all costs Seirin does not know about this."

(A lot happened in this chapter! Thank you for your supportive reviews! In reward, I updated twice with a long chapter!)