it had been a very, very long day. He was another level of exhausted. He had barely gotten any sleep the past three days. Tuesday he woke up after three hours of sleep, and Wednesday morning, he and Wraths secret had been discovered by the upperclassmen on his team. (and where he lied about his parents) He went through Wednesday with an hour of sleep, which wasn't bad, it was a power nap that had helped him survive the day. Wednesday night, his father kept him up all night, not letting him sleep for more than 15 minutes at a time. Thursday morning, after getting no solid sleep, he went off for practice and school. In three days, he had gotten less than five hours of sleep.
He was exhausted.
Closing the front door quietly behind him, he entered his home as quietly as he could. Taking care that each movement was controlled and quiet. It was fortunate that he had plenty of practice being as silent as a mouse creeping into unknown territory.
He had taken a short nap during lunch, and that had done wonders on his energy and mood. Even though he was starving, he felt much better. The fog was gone from his head, and his limbs felt easier to move. But still, he was looking forward to just knocking out in his bed and was planning to sleep until morning practice. Screw eating, he could eat at school after practice.
Grabbing onto his beloved keychains, he held them tight in his hand as he silently walked down the hallway, making sure that they didn't make any noise clinking together.
It was a wise choice to enter quietly, as his father was passed out on the living room couch, snoring obnoxiously loud. He scrunched up his face in annoyance when he saw the mess his father left on the living room table. How the hell did he get so much dust on the table? He just cleaned that.
With a huff, he turned from the sight and entered his bedroom. He was honestly too tired to keep on thinking about his waste of space father. Dropping his bag onto the floor, he promptly collapsed onto his bed face down.
Within minutes, he was dead asleep.
He was too tired to realize that he had made a mistake.
His bedroom door slamming open is what woke him up in the middle of the night.
He was on his feet before he was awake completely. He barely had time to blink away sleep when his father was lunging at him.
As he had many people perform the same move on him, he was able to effortless dodge his father again, and run out of his bedroom after slamming the door behind him.
Cursing under his breath, he scolded himself for forgetting to lock his bedroom door before going to sleep. Promptly turning on his heel, he tried to run down the hall and out of the house, only for him to run right into his mother and knock them both to the ground. They fell in a heap, he nearly crushed his mother in the process and felt panic leap into his throat when he saw how frantic and nervous she looked.
"TETSUYA!" his father swung open the door with enough force that Kuroko swore he was able to hear the doorknob breaking the drywall when it hit the wall," GET BACK HERE!" he yelped when he felt a hand wrap around his ankle and jerk him backward.
Repressing the urge to latch onto his mother as an anchor, he rolled onto his back and lashed out at his father with his other leg.
God, it fucking sucks to be short.
His father avoided the kick by simply leaning back and yanking Kuroko further down the hall, his heart sank when he realized that he was being dragged to the common area, where there would be more room.
"Let go!" he kicked at his father's hand, something that was stopped after his father put both hands on his ankle and twisted.
A shout of pain escaped his lips at that and he had to twist with his leg to prevent further harm to his ankle.
"Akira!" His mother, oh god his mother.
Tried her best to get his father to let go of him, she even went as far as to throw herself, her tiny, five-foot, 100-pound self, at her six foot something, 200 pound husband. Slamming her seemingly tiny fists against his arms to try and make him let go of their son's ankle.
Curling up his lips in a snarl, his father ruthlessly swung his arm back and caught her in the throat (It looked weird), making her slam into the wall behind her (something was off) and slump down to the floor (that didn't look right).
He immediately knew that something was off about the way she was hit. He had gotten hit and seen enough hits to know how a hit should look and sound. Instead of hearing the painful slap of skin against skin, there was barely a sound when his father's forearm met her throat. And she didn't hit the wall nearly as hard as she should of, an impact like that should have made the entire wall vibrate and make the nearby picture frames fall off.
Something was up.
Before he could keep on thinking about the way his mother was hit, he brought his attention back to his father, who was dragging him down the hall. Grabbing onto the doorframe to the bathroom, he managed to stop his father from dragging him for a few seconds, but with another jerk that rattled his injured ankle, he lost the handle he had on the wood.
"YOU FUCKING LITTLE SHIT!" his father's voice was so loud, Kuroko was amazed that none of his neighbors had called the police on them," DON'T THINK I DIDN'T FIND YOUR STASH!" his father effortlessly threw him into the living room and was quick to straddle his son, his hands fisted up in the collar of his school uniform.
His heart lept up into his throat. Ever since his parents had returned, he only had two 'stashes', he originally only had one, but when he realized that his father would most likely go looking for money in his room, he had made a fake one.
There was his original one, which was hidden in the ceiling of his closet, that held almost all of the money he had won from five years' worth of matches at the right club. He needed to keep that money hidden at all costs. He wasn't sure how much money was up there, but he knew that it was enough where he could buy a car with it. If worst comes to worst, he could use the money to help his mother leave his father.
And then there was the 'stash' in his dresser, that held about 200 dollars' worth of cash, a mere fraction of the money that he has in the house. He had made that one to make anyone who went looking in his room, think that that was all of the money he had in his possession. It looks like it worked as intended. But,
By god.
He didn't think he would be nearly killed over 200 dollars.
"WHEN I ASK YOU IF YOU HAVE CHANGE!" despite his best attempts, his father's hands were around his neck and were getting tighter by the second," YOU FUCKING TELL ME THE TRUTH! 200 DOLLARS YOU HID FROM ME! 200 DOLLARS!"
His airway was closed off, and he felt his entire being panicking at the lack of air. But, pushing down the panic just as he did when he was younger. He didn't both trying to pry off his father's hands.
Tucking his thumb into the side of his hand and making the rest of his fingers as stiff as he could, he thrusted his hand right into his father's throat.
It was a technique that he had learned after an opponent had used on him, so he knew just how much it hurt and how long it would take for his father to be able to breath normally again.
It worked just intended, his father's eyes bulged out of his forehead, and his hands let go of Kurokos neck to hold onto his own. His father keeled over and was gasping for air.
Taking advantage of his father's weakness, he kicked him off his body, making sure that he kicked his father at just the right spot to disturb his breathing process.
As soon as the 200 pound lump of garbage was off him, he scrambled to his feet and was out of the front door before anyone could stop him.
Just a little bit longer, he thought to himself as he ran down the street.
Just a little bit longer and he would be able to leave his father behind and escape with his mother. He just needed to figure out what he needed to do and then he could go.
He came to a stop at that thought, stopping at the basketball court that he practically grew up on. Leaning onto his knees, he took in deep and greedy gasps of breaths.
He thought back on what happened in the hall with his mother.
the situation was…weird.
He thought it was odd the way his mother had hit the wall. His father was not a small man, and his mother was not a large woman. With the force his father had used, his mother should have hit the wall for force. With enough force to make the wall rattle, and to make the nearby picture frames fall off. She should have hit the wall headfirst, but instead, she hit the wall with her back first, and then slumped down to the wall like she had gotten knocked out. She should have gotten her air knocked out of her, not knocked into unconsciousness.
But at the same time.
Everything happened so fast, maybe he missed something?
Whatever happened, he knew that he needed to get his mother out at all costs.
He would do anything for her.