Chapter 21- The Offer
The rain outside clapped like an uproarious audience, seeming only to mock and humiliate Kuroko further. Not daring to give his situation away by wiping his blurry eyes with his hand, Kuroko instead swallowed quietly, attempting to force the shock, uncertainty, and sadness down with the action, somewhere deep into his body where it would never be uncovered. However, despite his efforts, the poignancy clung to him like the immovable droplets had when they had walked home in the downpour.
He trusted in the darkness of the night to hide his sadness.
"I am very sorry," luckily his voice did not betray him and was as steady as always. "I could not see in the dark."
Akashi had bolted upright unusually quick, and his eyes were sharp for having been asleep a few seconds ago. He peered down at him blankly, and remained silent; allowing Kuroko's slippery words to sound loud and obtrusive. His pale, porcelain skin seemed to glow ethereally in the little light available in the room, his hair was a ruby colour, highlighting the neat folds of the strands.
The words that slid smoothy from Akashi lips made Kuroko freeze tensely.
"Why are you crying?"
Kuroko should never have doubted the boy couldn't see in the dark, and reminded himself to never underestimate the class representative in any matter.
"No reason, I am going to go back to bed." He assured hastily, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety creep up from the back of his neck. Using his palms to lift himself from the mattress, he planned a quick escape. However, before he could, the mattress spring emitted a harsh, shrill squeak, and he halted immediately, hoping his family would not conclude the boys were awake and check on them.
The red gaze was locked onto him like a target. The boy did not demand any more, but stared at him strangely.
"Is it regarding your father?" Akashi asked again, voice steady, but not entirely emotionless.
The cool, wintry air flowed inside Kuroko's lungs, and had a soothing effect. He considered the boy before him warily, before nodding slowly. "We really must go back to sleeping. I am sorry I woke you."
Akashi's pale face was as unmoving as a stone statue pictured throughout their study of ancient Rome as Kuroko moved away listlessly.
"You must care for him greatly."
"I do." Kuroko affirmed turning away, but stopped before he removed himself completely. Hoping to arise some empathy in Akashi so he would not question further, "You care about your father, don't you?"
Akashi did not respond, and Kuroko stared at the darkened figure.
When he realised Akashi was not going to respond, his heart grew cold. Kuroko moved away to return to his bed, but his wrist was caught in that bruising grip.
"No, I am afraid I can not comprehend what you are feeling. Nor do I feel anything for my father."
They were very harsh words.
"Surely you do not mean tha-"
"I do." Akashi clipped bluntly. "But I can try to understand. So tell me what's wrong."
Kuroko sighed tiredly, gripping the bed sheets with his free hand, and attempting to process the information Akashi gave him. For some reason, his mind flashed the memory of Akashi's detached, cynical expression when he had been conversing on the mobile phone that fateful day. The very some device that now lay defunct and lifeless on Kuroko's desk.
"I believe he might be loosing his job," Kuroko confessed quietly, not wanting to meet the eyes of the strange boy before him.
When Akashi did not answer, he suddenly felt very childish. He must be starved of companionship if he was confiding in the class representative, a boy he barely knew and who he was unsure whether he could trust, or even enjoy the company of. Nor could the boy do anything remotely helpful about it.
The uncertainty of his frivolous divulgence which bubbled under his skin like boiling water, reached its limit in an unclimatic display of him rising carefully from the mattress, wincing at the harsh sound of protest from the rusty springs. Luckily, Akashi released his wrist, letting him make an easy departure.
"Sorry for bothering you." Kuroko muttered, voice only betraying a slight chagrined tone. Clambering back into his bed, and under the now frosty blankets, he felt the embarrassment coil tightly within the pit of his stomach like a hungry snake curling around a mouse.
This combined with the anxious worry for the wellbeing of his father plaguing his brain did not make a comfortable match.
Thankfully, the murmurs stopped very soon after, and Kuroko was able to manage a light sleep.
Morning came with a flurry of chirping birds and shallow beams of sunshine that penetrated the light dusting of rain clouds in the sky. The proceedings of the previous night seemed like a hazy dream, and Kuroko struggled to recall if it actually happened.
Although, he remembered two cold truths that were too concrete to be from his imagination.
His father was loosing his job.
Kuroko was unsure what this would mean for his family, but he understood that they may be heading for difficult times ahead.
Also, he had confided in Akashi.
Kuroko glanced discreetly at the pale boy currently sipping cheap cereal from a spoon opposite him. Heat crawled from the back of his neck, and his breakfast tasted like soggy cardboard in his mouth. The boy did not meet his gaze, but gave a inconspicuous tilt of his head to acknowledge Kuroko's stare.
He hoped Akashi would not bring anything up, and forget about the whole event.
"Isn't it wonderful it has stopped raining!" His mother chirped, a pile of dirty washing in her arms. Kuroko wondered how she was holding up with the unfortunate news, and if her overall positive attitude was just her way of dealing with it.
"The bridge is still flooded I'm afraid, but I think it should be cleared by tomorrow." She added, setting down the clothing and pouring some cereal for herself.
The boys nodded wordlessly, and continued eating. His mother eyed Kuroko and Akashi suspiciously at the tense silence.
"You boys should go play outside! It's not good for children to be cooped up indoors!"
"But mother, it's still very wet." Kuroko reasoned, not wanting to spend anytime in the weather, or alone with the class representative.
"Come on! It's just a bit of water!" She exclaimed, "I'll go get the raincoats, I'm sure there in the cupboard somewhere." She whizzed out of the room like a fleeing deer.
The two boys shared a look when she excitedly retrieved a pair of lurid yellow raincoats and gum boots.
The raincoats were restricting and uncomfortably squeaky against their skin. Nonetheless, his mother rushed them outside.
True to Kuroko's word, the scape appeared very sodden. Puddles lined every surface, and droplets decorated every leaf and branch like ornaments. Luckily, it had stopped raining, so Kuroko tugged his coat closer and trudged through the moist grass. His boots were constantly lodged into the thick mud, and almost came off his feet when he attempted another step.
Akashi strolled impervious beside him, and the silence was as thick and impenetrable as the soil beneath their feet. Kuroko could sense the cardinal orbs watching him, but he did not spare the boy a glance, and kept his eyes adamantly forward. He could not shake the feeling of embarrassment that seemed to inundate all his emotions, he had rarely felt this apprehensive.
"Kuroko," the boy beside him voiced sternly. But there was a softer edge to it that sent alarm bells ringing almost as violently as the unusual use of his last name.
He turned to peer at Akashi. He looked oddly intimidating in the bright yellow raincoat.
"I have considered what you told me last night." The boy began.
Kuroko's stomach crawled with embarrassment, like the scurrying of tiny rats, agonising that he brought up their conversation last night.
"And as my family owns a business, whose influence spans nationally, and locally. It wouldn't be difficult to recommend your father to a company."
"What?" Kuroko asked, not understanding how this was relevant or why Akashi was telling him this.
The class representative stared blankly at him, but a small twitch of his lips signalled that he either suppressed a sigh or a smile.
"I can get your father a job."
Those words washed over him like a violent wave at a windy beach, leaving him slightly disorientated. Why would he do this for him? What would Akashi gain? Or was it out of kindness? After all, he did invite Akashi to stay at his house until the bridge cleared.
But Kuroko had a very bad feeling from the offer. Akashi was scheming something, and his motives were largely unknown. He did not picture the boy repaying a small, kind act with something that could change the life of his family drastically.
However his heart tempted him to accept. His father's exhausted face played behind his eyes like a flickering movie projector.
Securing his father a job would save his family a great deal of hardship. If he did not accept, would it be all his fault? Was his distrust of Akashi becoming too unreasonable? After all, the boy had driven him home when it was raining with reasonable intentions.
Conflicting emotions waged a destructive war inside his brain. He was lost for words, and had no idea what to do. He opened his mouth, but closed it, reminding himself of a fish. The streets were empty, and there was only the sweet serenity of chirping birds could be heard.
With a decision made, Kuroko bowed, staring at the brown sludge beneath his boots. "Thank you very much for the kind offer." He began, wondering if he was making the right decision. "But I believe my father would not want a job he did not earn himself."
There was no visible reaction, the boy's face remained unchanged as stone.
"Very well." Akashi intoned unsurprised, voice as if he expected the decline.
The offer of security tasted bitter in his mouth, and Kuroko turned, gum boots squeaking unpleasantly in the mud. He shoved his cold hands inside his pockets, with feigned nonchalance, but felt oddly shaken.
He glanced discreetly at the boy, and he reconsidered his harsh reaction. All motives aside, it was a generous offer. Recently, Akashi had done very nice services for him, and he ought to offer to return the favours sometime. His mother taught him to never forget a kind deed
"Akashi..." he began hesitantly. "I know I do not have much, but please let me know if I can do anything for you."
Akashi nodded, "Likewise."
Kuroko smiled, and received a faint tugging of lips in return.
That was good enough for him.