"What would you like to order, Tetsuya?" Akashi looked up from his menu to his irritated companion sitting across from him.

"This isn't Maji Burger, Akashi-kun." The light bluenette did not so much as spare a single glance at his own menu laying folded on the lavishly made table in front of him.

Surrounding them were many other fancy tables and chairs filled with the most elegant and beautifully dressed aristocrats. Waiters in freshly ironed vests and slacks walked around, taking orders and carefully placing five-star food on other tables. Silent chattering and clinks of glassware could be heard occasionally from other patrons. Playing in the distant background was a rendition of an American classic, Pachelbel's Canon in D Major.

"Yes, Tetsuya." The redhead sighed, closing his menu and placing it back on the table. "We've been over this already. I told you that I wanted to take you to a nicer restaurant where the food is more healthy-"

"While you dragged me, kicking and screaming, into your jet to another country." Kuroko glared.

"I will not deny that my tactic was a bit... unnecessary, but so was your attitude," he pointed out.

"I was only acting according to how I saw fit for kidnapping," the phantom replied.

"I did not 'kidnap' you," Akashi retorted, somewhat offended, "I was merely physically suggesting you to get on that plane so we may dine in a better environment."

"A suggestion would mean that I would have a choice to either comply or not, without any consequences," he emphasized.

"Who said I would hurt you if you didn't go with me?" The redhead innocently questioned.

"You did," Kuroko bluntly stated. "Three times: before, during, and after the ride."

"Oh, I did, did I?" The other tilted his head towards the ceiling in mock contemplation, tapping his chin with an index finger. "I don't seem to recall such a thing."

"You said, 'Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Tetsuya. We can either go the easy way or the hard way. And might I remind you that the hard way may or may not involve some pain on your part,'" the phantom quoted word for word.

"Impressive," Akashi commented with raised brows, resting his chin atop the palm of his hand.

"Now," the phantom stood up, "if you'll excuse me, I'll be going now."

But a chuckle stopped him from turning away.

"And where would you go? You barely know any English. Remember that we are currently in New York, and I doubt you can even take one single step out of this restaurant without having to ask someone for directions." The redhead pointed at the light bluenette's chair, motioning for his companion to sit.

"..."

Reluctantly, Kuroko slowly sat back down and silently picked up his menu, brooding behind the leathery pamphlet.

Smirking victoriously, Akashi leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms, and patiently waited for the light bluenette to pick out his order before waving over a waitress.


The meal dragged on for quite some time, especially since a certain redhead was ordering as much as his stomach could handle and eating slower than a snail, just to irk a certain phantom who was already peeved off from the start. Said phantom was now openly glaring at said redhead, who was enjoying this way too much.

After the fifteenth time Akashi took a bite the size of a pea from the slice of chocolate cake, Kuroko's patience snapped.

"Akashi-kun."

"Hmm?" The heterochromatic paused mid-bite to look up at Kuroko.

"You are taking even smaller bites than me." He crossed his arms and a small pout could be seen. "Are you mocking me?"

"Of course not," amusement laced his voice. "I was just savoring the exquisite taste."

"Well, you've savored enough. You've been savoring since the beginning. Now hurry up and let's go. I want to go home," the shorter of the two demanded.

"No need to lash out at me," Akashi raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, placing his fork down and calling over a waiter for the check.

Once the duo were out of the restaurant and heading towards the direction of the private jet, the light bluenette heaved an irritated sigh.

"I am never accepting anything from you ever again," Kuroko grumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" The redhead turned to his companion in question.

"Nothing. Go away." He glared.

The taller of the two raised an amused eyebrow.

"If I did that, then you would get lost." Just to prove his point, the redhead fastened his pace and detoured towards a crowded area.

At the prospect of getting lost in a foreign country, Kuroko grabbed the other's sleeve, forcefully slowing him down, and glared daggers at the ground.

"... Shut up and keep walking." He closely followed along.

"As you wish," Akashi smirked and led them to their destination.


When the two finally made it back to Tokyo, Akashi brought them to Maji Burger, as he had originally promised, and ordered his companion an extra-large vanilla milkshake. Instantly, the phantom's mood took a one-eighty from a single sip and he soon forgot all about the restaurant incident... or so Akashi thought.

For the next few weeks, the redhead woke up to an egged and toilet-papered house, a keyed car, and the same message spray-painted in blood red onto his driveway since Day One of the vandalism: I forgive you, Bakashi-kun.

The heterochromatic merely shook his head and chuckled at the childishness every time.

Then, he would proceed to call the phantom and thank him for such a lovely present every morning, to which the light bluenette would pretend he had no idea what the redhead was talking about and abruptly end the call.