Well, here's my 2k apology for the super long absence. I got so caught up in Sunbeams, my apologies. But I'm still alive, and this story's not dead!
It's a half day trip to his outcrop, a half day through forest and over a concerningly wide river. The outcrop isn't all that big, it doesn't have to be. There's a basin, a small stream running through, and his outcrop juts over the edge. The drop is high enough to kill him should he fall, so he stays close to the rock wall. The basin is surrounded on all sides by enchanted flowers. Kuroko has long since earned their trust, so they allow him to pass through without issue.
He'd stumbled upon them by accident when he was younger, and they nearly killed him. They have red petals, but their veins are a nauseous shade of blue. Each flower barely reaches Kuroko's waist, and the petals are roughly the size of his forearm. They're sentient, to a degree anyways.
After a few months, and one instance of Kuroko preventing the field from being set ablaze, the flowers agreed to protect Kuroko and his outcrop. They do an outstanding job of not letting anyone pass through, and for that he's grateful.
It's not that he dislikes living with Momoi, it's one of his favorite places to be, but his outcrop is quiet. And it's his own.
The petals brush up against his legs as he passes, and he shivers slightly. Despite their warm color, the flowers are unnaturally cold, nearly like ice and it's a wonder that they aren't dead. The only logical assumption then is that it's because they're magical flowers.
In any case, the outcrop has been his place for a number of years now. With the flowers, and a choice few spells, he's by himself and in comfort. It's a strange comfort, an empty one. There aren't any ribbons, not anywhere close, and nothing human. Solitude is different when it's chosen. An Empath forced to be empty is different than an Empath making themselves empty.
That day, in the field too far away from his team, he'd nearly passed out. Drive, bloodlust, joy, victory, it was all flowing through his veins, It was heady and exhilarating, until it wasn't.
Suddenly, they'd all pulled away, blocking him out. All those emotions, powerful and raw and quantitative, were simply gone. Ripped away and Kuroko was forced empty, drained. He had no emotions to draw from, he was isolated. He'd lain on the ground shivering for upwards of an hour before picking himself up and stumbling back to their rendezvous point. Their sync allowed him to work from a greater distance, using his team's eyes to see what he needed. Their ribbons stretched back to him, giving him a strong tether to keep them all together.
It wouldn't have been an issue if he was the one to let them go.
But he lost them that day, he can't feel their ribbons at all now, and he's not even sure if he wants to.
With a sigh, Kuroko closes his and eases back until he's laying down. It's peaceful, no buzzing ribbons to keep him awake. He comes here whenever he needs to sleep, and sleep restfully. With only his breathing and the low hum of the flowers, Kuroko has no problem falling asleep.
Away from all the color, his dreams are pleasant. Memories drift along, past battles and banquet halls flash in his mind. Kise flirts his way into a records room in order to steal the maps for an enemy's kingdom's siege tunnels and storehouses. Murasakibara has to wait awkwardly outside a meeting because he can't fit through the door. Midorima easily outshoots all of his competition, to the point that he's accused of cheating. Akashi waltzes into the gathering of a coup, and he decimates everyone without lifting his sword.
Then there's Aomine.
He and Kuroko are on the training grounds. Kuroko insists that he doesn't need a weapon, Aomine is convinced that he does. They train until Kuroko has had enough. He reaches out for Aomine's ribbons and sends bright streaks of euphoric elation through them. Aomine falls to the ground, unable to stop laughing. He's gasping and on the verge of tears when Kuroko figures that he's got the message. He waves away the pink, letting it drift. Aomine stays on the ground, heaving in air.
"I get it," he gasps, "no more training tonight."
Kuroko's eyes snap open, the memories of vibrant ribbons bleed away. It does him no good to dwell on the past, no matter how nice it feels.
Kuroko sleeps, he's not exactly sure for how long, his exhaustion catching up with him. His mind is merciful, filling his head with images of the shop, of Momoi, and the infirmary. When night falls, he's awake, staring absently at the stars.
Out of habit, he connects them, eyes drawing imaginary lines between the bright lights. It's a game he used to play with Murasakibara, it started when they were on watch together.
It was a retrieval mission, the six of them were returning, Kuroko always stayed up during all the watch shifts. Murasakibara had been restless, his ribbons twitching and lashing out. Kuroko managed to slip a few strains of calm into his ribbon as the night wore on, and eventually, Murasakibara relaxed enough to take proper watch. They sat in relative quiet, the night black until the stars began to appear.
Murasakibara looked up at the sky that night and told Kuroko that he saw a dragon.
It's easy enough to spot, Murasakibara chose only the brightest stars as his connecting points, so it only takes Kuroko a few heartbeats to find it. Murasakibara's dragon spans half the night sky, wings spread out as it flies.
The dragon looks a little different than it did, they were in a different part of the world then, and from this position, it's a lot closer.
Night watches were always interesting.
Kuroko is the only one who can see ribbons, so even the darkest cover of night is no obstacle against him. One of the others would stay up with him, acting as backup should someone attempt to catch them unaware.
He and Murasakibara always had the midnight shift, Aomine before him, Kise after, Midorima following, and then Akashi in the hours leading to morning.
Following the pointing out of the dragon, he and Murasakibara started a habit of connecting the stars. Aomine would talk, give him pointers about his physical fighting capabilities. Kise would doze, and Kuroko never had the heart to wake him. He and Midorima sat in silence for the most part, but it was never uncomfortable.
Small talk with Akashi was a feat of itself. They usually ended up discussing how the mission went, what they could have done better.
Kuroko sits up, rubbing at his eyes.
Come morning, he'll have to make the trek back to the shop. No doubt the others will be there when he arrives, it will be Momoi's doing of course.
It's not that they act particularly horrible to him, quite the contrary actually. Kise is his usual self, chipper and easy to talk to. Midorima is cordial, Akashi hasn't changed at all, and Murasakibara still takes it upon himself to drape his overly large body over Kuroko from behind whenever they happen to stand together.
Kuroko can't look Aomine in the eye though.
Too many years spent with too many anchors, only for it all to be ripped away. Aomine pretends like nothing has changed, still throws his arm around Kuroko's shoulders, still ruffles his hair. If Kuroko could still get at his ribbons, he'd send a euphoria heady enough to incapacitate the older man for hours on end.
Unfortunately, Kuroko has no access to any of their ribbons.
He wishes the flowers well as he leaves. There's a low hum in response, and he waves to them one last time before turning his back.
The trek back to town doesn't feel nearly as long as it did going the other way. It must have been all the sleep he got.
He breaks a few hours later, stopping to drink some water and stretch for a few minutes. When he starts walking again, he thinks.
If he allows himself to admit it, he'd do just about anything to bring his knights back to him. But it's not that simple. Empathic connections are not just opening and closing a door. It's an intricate weaving, a tapestry that connected the six of them, not just to Kuroko but to each other. As a unit, they were unstoppable, backed by Momoi, there was no obstacle they couldn't overcome.
Kuroko never thought his team members themselves would become one of those obstacles.
He noticed it early, and didn't want to accept 'd grown confident in their own abilities, and Kuroko wouldn't have been opposed to that under other circumstances. The five of them still leave on missions as a unit, but they don't work together. For the first months following his self imposed removal from the team, Kuroko followed up on their missions.
He didn't like what he read.
This happens every time though, he shouldn't be surprised. They return, come by the shop, stay for hours, and Kuroko pretends to the best of his ability that he doesn't feel himself dying the longer he stays in their presence.
His only hope is that he'll return home before they arrive so he can at least Momoi for a calming draught, something to numb him just a little.
Fate is, apparently, not on his side.
Kuroko freezes at the door to the shop. The sound of ribbons is unmistakeable. Momoi's are buzzing so loud and high that it hurts. There are five more sets with her, ones that he can no longer influence, no longer touch. He can't even feel them properly. He can infer from their color, but it's all muted.
He takes a breath and pushes the door open.
Momoi is perched on the counter, her ribbons are glowing, legitimately shining with the pinkest light Kuroko has ever seen. Kise is beside her, he's not in his knight regalia, rather somewhat toned up training clothes. His dual swords are at his hip, he still has the ridiculous leather scabbard Momoi made him, embroidered around the edges with yellow flowers. Momoi's protection charm hangs around his neck, the orb resting just at the hem of his tunic. He has a new scar, a small line, no longer than a blade of grass, along his right jaw. Judging by the way he's leaning on the counter, he injured his legs somehow. His ribbons are straining, trying to reach for Kuroko but failing.
Murasakibara, the poor man, is sitting on the floor rather than slouching to avoid the charms hanging from the ceiling. His hammers are beside him and he has a number of sweets stacked in his lap, some from the shop up the road, some look to be from the castle. His hair has grown longer, but it's tied back at the nape of his neck. He looks as drowsy as ever, but the purple ribbons about him say otherwise. Like Kise's, they try to reach out.
Standing beside him, with all the regal air of a king, is Akashi. He remains in his formal Baron attire, perfectly dressed without a weapon in sight. It's not like he needs one. His eyes have yet to change from that last day, it's unnerving, the way the golden one seems to bore down into Kuroko's very being. Like Kise, he has a charm around his neck, a simple pendant, spelled with a small crystal in the ribbons float about him, twitching occasionally with the movement of everyone else's.
Midorima stands against the counter beside Kise, glasses resting on the edge of his nose. A series of spelled bracelets line is right hand, while his left hand is ever impeccably taped up. His bow rests in its canvas on the floor, as Momoi has a very strict 'no weapons on the counter' policy. He doesn't appear to be sporting any injuries, if anything he just seems anxious. His ribbons snap about before winding back to his body.
On the stairs, looking as though he'd woken as soon as Kuroko stepped through the door, is Aomine. Scars crisscross his hands, Momoi's charm hanging from his neck, along with a few other trinkets from over the years. He's dressed in a more relaxed fashion than the others, if Kuroko remembers correctly, he's wearing his training fatigues, and his old blacksmith's boots. His ribbons surge as soon as his eyes fall on Kuroko's, but they don't stretch very far past his body, stopping suddenly.
Beneath the muted lock of grey, Kuroko can see streaks of grief, fatigue, anger, and loneliness.
There was a time when Aomine's ribbons shone brighter than the sun.
Aomine stands, and Kuroko nearly takes a step back. All eyes turn towards him, following the example set by their ribbons.
"Tetsu," Aomine breathes, quiet, like he does every time they return, like he was under the impression that Kuroko wouldn't really come.
Kuroko wants to go upstairs, to his room, where it's quiet.
Better yet, he'd rather be at his outcrop, with nothing but his flowers and the stars.
Again, I am super sorry for my absence with this story, you can yell at me if you want.