In which love triangles are never good, but especially when dealing with two very different redheads.
Part TWO.
XXX
They'd won.
It hadn't seemed like they were going to—what with all the dissonance—and to be honest, Kuroko had never expected it. But then, at the championship, they'd won—they'd defeated Kamata Junior High, and those damned twins, and they'd done it, something that was completely unheard of in middle school basketball. They'd done it, they'd won, and yet . . .
Why didn't it feel good?
Kuroko didn't know; he'd thought, after everything they'd been through, after all the training he'd done, that he would be happier about this. He'd wanted this, right? To be acknowledged, to be in the first string, to win a game . . .
Or maybe it had been something else entirely.
Two weeks had passed since Kuroko had confessed to Akashi-kun, and in those two weeks, something . . . strange had happened. Well, at first it hadn't been; Akashi-kun, much like Kuroko expected, kept avoiding him. The only times they'd talk were during practice, and even then, it was a simple order from Akashi, an acknowledgement from Kuroko. Akashi-kun never stopped by after practice, and surprisingly, Kuroko found himself practicing less and less. Two hours morphed into one, and one into a half . . .
And soon, he stopped coming all together.
Well, almost. Sometimes, he still had that feeling to go play, to practice until his hands hurt and his fingers ached. He'd stay behind, for hours on end, thinking nothing except basketball and basketball and more basketball—
Tonight was one of those nights.
Sighing, he grabbed another basketball, being sure to aim for the hoop. He pushed up, his elbows doing most of the work, his hands leaving the ball's edge—and a moment later, it connected with the hoop, sending it flying back; another one that didn't go in. Kuroko gritted his teeth, and grabbed another one, and another one—he kept shooting until his fingers ached, yet none of them ever made it. Some would hit the backboard, some would hit the rim, others would miss it entirely . . .
He was out of balls.
Breathing heavily, he clenched his hand before hitting it against his leg, upset. Why couldn't he do it?! He practiced here every night, and yet he was no closer to his goals than the first day he started. While all his other teammates were blooming, developing impossibly incredible talents, he was still stuck here, unable to do even the barest basics. He couldn't shoot, he couldn't dribble, he couldn't improve his stamina . . .
His thoughts, like a rubber band, snapped back to Aomine, who hadn't come to practice at all the past week. It was like a bad movie, where Kuroko knew the ending; he knew that Aomine didn't want to come, but every day, he tried to bring him back, and every day, he felt himself drifting farther and farther away. They were drifting. No longer did Aomine rely on him, or his passes, or anything—"the only one who can defeat me is me." Sure, that's what he thought. But Kuroko knew that, somewhere along the line, he would meet someone, a rival, who would wipe that bored expression off his face for good. It had to happen. It would happen.
Right?
His thoughts morphed and twisted, and suddenly a redhead was at his forefront, blocking all other thoughts. Those two red eyes that he loved—except, they weren't really red, were they? No, one was, sure, but the other—
He thought he'd seen a flash of veritable gold.
Unbidden, memories of that night came back to him, and he suddenly gasped, the ache in his chest growing stronger. He hadn't thought much about Akashi's rejection since he cried that night, but now, completely alone both in the gym and on the team, Kuroko couldn't contain his feelings. They were leaving him behind. Every single one of them: Aomine, Midorima, Kise, Murasakibara, but most importantly—
"Tetsuya."
That voice.
He knew that voice, didn't he?
Taken off guard, Kuroko reeled back, his foot connecting with the basket he'd been using earlier. There was a twinge of pain, and suddenly he fell down, a gasp escaping his throat. Pain laced through his leg—
And cool fingers touched his ankle.
He wasn't sure how Akashi had gotten over there so quickly, or why he was holding his ankle like it was something precious, but something inside him snapped, and he lashed out, hitting him. Akashi turned to the side, surprised by the slap, before he glanced down at Kuroko, lips pressed into a firm line.
"Tetsuya. Is that how you treat someone you like?"
Kuroko gasped again, and tried to pull away, but Akashi tightened his grip, causing him to cry out in pain.
"I-It hurts . . . Akashi-kun . . ."
"Does it?" Akashi twisted his hand around his ankle, causing his leg to spasm. Kuroko glanced up at him, tears in his eyes.
"Oh~" Akashi took one look at his crying face and loosened his grip, instead settling his hand on Kuroko's calf. His hand began rubbing soothing circles on his skin, to which Kuroko shook, this time for a different reason. "So that's what that looks like~"
"H-huh?" Kuroko glanced up at him, confused. "What are you talking about, Akashi-kun?"
"Hmm~ I wonder." The circles stopped on his leg, and Kuroko couldn't help feeling disappointed. Instead his hand rested on his ankle, which was becoming a beautiful kaleidoscope of noirs, amethysts. "Let's get this cleaned up, Tetsuya."
"Akashi-kun doesn't have to bother—ah!" Surprised, Kuroko grabbed onto his neck as Akashi picked him up, carrying him bridal style. He could feel his cheeks heating up to a thousand degrees, though he could only cling to Akashi tighter. "A-Akashi-kun, I can walk myself."
Akashi gave him a look, almost as though he was pitying him. "But you hurt yourself, Tetsuya. And it wouldn't be right as a captain—no, as a human being—to let you walk on an injury." The words were innocent enough, and Kuroko knew he shouldn't try to read into them, and yet he couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Something wasn't right.
"And besides," Akashi was completely oblivious to Kuroko's distress, "I figured you'd be ecstatic that I was carrying you. Me, the one you like."
Kuroko wanted to say that he'd already been rejected, but words failed him, and he could only gape at Akashi. Instead, he decided to imprint every single aspect of Akashi to memory, unsure if he would ever get this chance again.
His jaw was the same. It was still strong, though soft around the edges, perfectly capped by slightly tussled red hair—was that shorter than before? It looked like it, and Kuroko couldn't help the disappointment that bubbled up inside him. He'd always like Akashi's hair longer. It just . . . made him the way he was.
"We're here." Kuroko hadn't realized they'd been walking before he glanced up, taking in the infirmary sign. There were no lights on in the office.
He frowned. "Akashi-kun, I'm fine, really. Besides, the nurse isn't here right now, and—well, and—"
"Are you defying me, Tetsuya?"
Kuroko froze, that uncomfortable feeling from before multiplying a hundred fold. His breaths started coming out quickly, and without restraint, and—was Akashi smirking? Not smiling, there was no warmth, but he was—he was—
"Well?"
"N-no, Akashi-kun. I . . . I'm sorry." He quickly diverted his gaze, being sure to look anywhere but Akashi. "Please do as you want."
Akashi hummed his agreement and, procuring a key from seemingly out of nowhere, he opened the door whilst balancing Kuroko in his arms. The door clicked open, and the barely lit hallway was dimmed by shadows.
Akashi glanced down at Kuroko, smirking again, and Kuroko flushed, burying his head into Akashi's chest. He felt a strange rumbling come from his captain, and he glanced up, only to find Akashi chuckling.
"Akashi-kun?"
His laughter stopped almost instantaneously, and he regarded Kuroko with a cool expression. "It's nothing, Tetsuya. Let's get you cleaned up, huh?"
It wasn't a suggestion.
When they entered the room, Akashi fumbled for the light switch before the room was engulfed in blinding, searing light. Stacks of magazines covered a nearby table, encroached by two chairs the color of puke green—a desk acted as though a head, glancing over them like a mother checking over her two children.
His steps were sure and focused as he brought Kuroko to a bed, being sure to lay him down, gently, like he was fragile china. Kuroko could only gape, his mouth partially hanging open. What's going on? he thought. Why is he being so nice to me?
"Why?" Kuroko started, suddenly realizing that he'd said that last part out loud. "You want to know why, Tetsuya?"
Unable to find any words, Kuroko could only nod dumbly.
Akashi chuckled, though it did nothing to quell his beating heart. "I figured it would be obvious Tetsuya. You're not stupid. Figure it out yourself."
Before Kuroko could respond, Akashi was already drifting away, a weed in the wind, drifting farther and farther out of Kuroko's sight. When he was gone, Kuroko breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't been aware he'd been holding, glancing almost fearfully at the door as it clicked shut.
What was going on? Akashi was here, acting nice to him—well, not to say he didn't before, but ever since that night, he'd been avoiding him, hoping to erase Kuroko's confession by mere circumvention alone. And then, and then—
"And you know, the reason why I've been following Aka-chin all this time is because I felt that, no matter what, I could never win against Aka-chin."
"But recently I've begun to feel—"
"That maybe that isn't the case."
"I don't wanna listen to someone . . . weaker than me."
There. That'd been it, hadn't it? The day that Murasakibara questioned Akashi's authority, the day he challenged him to a one-on-one . . . the day that Akashi almost lost. That had been the first time, and the last. Because, because—
Akashi was going to lose.
He was going to lose, wasn't he?
For the first time—
And yet, he hadn't. Somehow, against the odds—
A flash of gold.
A murderous look.
"You got carried away a bit, huh, Atsushi? Don't make me lose my patience."
"Anyone who opposes me, even if they're my parents, should be eliminated."
And then, the end game.
He hadn't lost. Akashi had fought, and fought—and then it was like he was a completely different person, someone who didn't need to fight. He simply needed to be there, and he'd win. An Akashi like that—
"Who are you?"
"What are you saying? I'm obviously Akashi Seijuuro . . . Tetsuya~"
An Akashi like that scared Kuroko.
And an Akashi like that wasn't the Akashi-kun that Kuroko fell in love with.
His head hurt.
The door slammed open, and the bane of his existence came out, carrying a medical bag that had definitely seen better days. Some gauze hung out the side of it, the color of fresh tar, the bag itself a hideous shade of brown that looked as though the entire rainbow puked on it.
He settled in one of the chairs closest to Kuroko, taking the disgusting bag and placing it down beside him, which he then proceeded to glance through. After a few moments, he gave what sounded like a growl, and then threw the bag against the wall, spilling its contents. Kuroko flinched, suddenly unsure of what to do.
"Akashi-kun . . . ?"
"I suppose we're going to have to fix it the old fashion way," he muttered, more to himself. Before Kuroko could even ask what he meant, Akashi grasped his ankle, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it.
Kuroko was sure his eyes were bulging. Akashi had just kissed his foot.
Akashi had just kissed him.
"A-A-A—"
But Akashi either didn't care about Kuroko's reaction, or he simply cared too much, for he turned away and skulked back to the closet, this time not even bothering to shut the door. A few moments later, he returned, victorious, an unopened pack of gauze and disinfectant in his hand. Without even bothering with formalities, Akashi sprayed his injury and then proceeded to slowly wrap it.
"Akashi . . . kun?"
"Hmm?" Ah. They were finally getting somewhere. "Is there something wrong, Tetsuya?"
"N-No," Kuroko replied quickly, twisting his head away. He was sure his face was as red as Akashi's hair. "I-It's just . . . why did you kiss me?"
There was no reply.
"Akashi-kun?"
Deep down, Kuroko knew what he was going to say, but he just couldn't believe it. No, no, it had to be a mistake, right? More than a mistake. It had to be a downright lie. Because, he had already . . .
Akashi-kun's eyes flitted across his mind, the betrayal clear in their depths. The betrayal that someone, a close friend and teammate like Kuroko, was like that—
Suddenly Kuroko's ankle was yanked off the side of the bed, and he landed on hard concrete. The pain shot off his back, his ankle screaming out in protest. He tried to hold back tears, but it was just no use. It hurt too much.
"You're thinking of him, aren't you?" The Akashi that isn't Akashi-kun hissed. "You're thinking of him when you're in my presence."
Kuroko could only gape at him, bewildered. Then his mouth audibly clicked shut and he gazed with a look of pure terror. "N-no, I wasn't—"
Akashi dug his fingers into Kuroko's ankle, eliciting a pained moan from his lips. Dark spots danced around the corners of his eyes, but with some difficulties, Kuroko pushed them away, instead staring into two mismatched eyes full of fury. Pure, unadulterated fury.
"I know you, Tetsuya. I know you." Akashi's face twisted into something of a smile, though no warmth was there; just that crazed, manic look in his eyes, the irises burning. Leaning forward until just the tips of their noses touched, he breathed, "I was the one who found you—the one who allowed you to join this team. I was the one who saved you from your pathetic excuse of an existence, a life eternally cursed to be unnoticeable. It bothered you, right? It must have. Being nothing better than air in a room . . ." As he said each word, his grip tightened around Kuroko's ankle, squeezing and tightening until Kuroko was sure it'd be shattered. He wasn't sure how much more he could take—
And yet, despite that, he felt a smooth hand cup his chin, forcing him to look into Akashi's eyes. Making him unable to look away. His breathing became shallow, and suddenly found himself hyperventilating. And yet . . .
He was mesmerized.
"But I gave you more than that Tetsuya. Nobody else did. Not Aomine, not Kise, and especially not my counterpart. You're too good for them Tetsuya. Nobody else can have you. You're mine." And with that, Akashi leaned forward, harshly kissing Kuroko as if it was his last breath on earth. Kuroko, too in shock to know how to respond, could only stare blankly as Akashi nipped his lower lip, forcing him to open up. He obliged unwittingly, only realizing his folly when something wet, and slimy, trailed against his tongue, coaxing it into a dance. He moaned slightly at the contact, suddenly feeling everything, his mind in overload. Nothing made sense. This wasn't Akashi-kun, but it was, at least in some ways—or, in ways that he imagined it would be. The kiss was searing, and hot, and suddenly he felt something hard poke into his thigh.
Pulling back, Akashi smirked, his eyes lit with an unknown mirth. "Do you feel that Tetsuya?" He grinded against Kuroko, harshly, hearing another beautiful hiss of pain leave his lips. "Do you honestly think . . ." Another thrust. "That my counterpart would ever do this with you? Do you honestly think he would ever view you with something other than disgust?"
Kuroko's breathy moans stopped cold, his eyes widening. No . . . Akashi-kun . . .
Akashi-kun. His first love . . . his last? He didn't know, but . . .
The first time they ever saw each other, it was during tryouts. Akashi-kun was just another one of hundreds in the gym, and yet, Kuroko couldn't help noticing him, almost as if he had a spotlight shining on him, and him alone. The way he walked was graceful but surprisingly powerful, each footstep a swan gliding across a sea of lava. He was wearing a jersey, yellow, the color strangely matching his hair, a virulent red that seemed almost too loud in the crowded area. And his eyes—the color matched his hair perfectly, two glowing rubies, a color that was just as beautiful as it was uncommon. He looked completely unapproachable.
And then, he watched, surprised, as a guy only a few centimeters taller than him could play basketball that well. He could only stare as his yellow jersey morphed into a blatant white, and now he was completely unapproachable.
He felt tears gather at the corners of his eyes as he came back to reality, staring into the face of the one who'd caused him so much trouble. Staring into that gold eye, the one that burned like the sun . . .
The one that should be red.
A chill descended upon his body, and suddenly Kuroko shivered, feeling goose bumps. His nipples were pert, almost completely hard—
Akashi-kun was perfect.
He was everything Kuroko aspired to be, and more. Commanding, athletic, and strangely gentle, he was the epitome of what all humans should be. He was the greatest example . . .
But not good enough to help Kuroko.
The coach had told him, quite frankly, that he should just quit the team. That all his hard work was worthless . . . and Kuroko believed him. He didn't have anything to show for it, after all. He'd spend hours working, always working harder than everyone else, and yet he was never able to do the simplest of things, like shooting or dribbling or dunking. He didn't have those skills.
He didn't have anything.
And even so, even after every possible factor pointed to him being completely useless, there was one saving grace. Namely, Akashi-kun. The night they met, the day that he would've probably quit basketball forever . . . he met him. The one he'd admired from afar . . .
"It's the first time I've seen someone like you . . . putting everything you have into basketball even though others can't see the results."
Well, that could've gone better.
"Sorry, but right now I don't really want to hear this . . ."
"Ah, sorry, sorry!" He laughed. "Even so, there's no reason for you to feel this way."
He hadn't thought about those words when he'd said them, but even so, Kuroko could feel his face heating up, his depression sliding away to nothing but a husk. Akashi-kun . . . no, the man that everyone should admire . . . thought he was a good basketball player?
"You're thinking of him again," Akashi murmured against heated flesh, dragging his teeth down Kuroko's stomach. Said player arched into the teasing sensation, his head light, his hands finding purchase in Akashi's hair. No, no, he can't fall into this . . .
He can't be swept away.
Akashi-kun was waiting for him.
And this Akashi-kun was nothing more than an imposter. Nothing to Kuroko . . .
"D-do you . . . like me?"
And yet, he needed to know.
Akashi stopped his ministrations momentarily, looking Kuroko dead in the eye. Finally he smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Do you honestly have to ask, Tetsuya? I figured what I was doing was fairly obvious." Leaning down ever so slightly, he chuckled, the hot breath hitting Kuroko's ear like a shotgun. "But if you insist on knowing, then yes. I do like you, Tetsuya."
"Only you."
Akashi looked slightly surprised at his comment, but then smirked again, wider—a victorious smile. A smile completely like Akashi-kun's, and yet completely unlike his all at once. "Yes, I suppose that's true—only me. I am the only one that likes you Tetsuya."
His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, "And I plan on winning your heart. After all, because I always win, I'm always right. Don't you agree, Tetsuya?"
Kuroko was silent.
Akashi, completely oblivious to Kuroko's distress, or perhaps simply ignoring it, continued, "And isn't it better this way? I like you Tetsuya. And you—well, you like me, right? So I don't see why you're asking so many questions." His hand snaked into Kuroko's gym shorts, a finger tracing the edge of something Kuroko didn't want to think about. "Why don't we just continue where we left off—"
Slap.
It came out of nowhere, this slap, and it surprised Akashi so much that his head turned to the side, his mismatched eyes wide. Then, quickly, so quickly that Kuroko was sure he'd get whiplash, Akashi turned towards him, that same murderous look from so long ago painted fresh across his face. His gold eye was shining, outlining Kuroko's pale form, those angry eyes of blue—
And then, just as suddenly, the anger left, only to be replaced with two blank eyes, looking at Kuroko as though he was nothing better than a bug. His cheek was still red from where Kuroko had slapped him. "So that's how you feel, huh?" He looked slightly lost, as if he couldn't understand why Kuroko wouldn't want to be with him when he obviously wanted to be with Kuroko.
But did he, really? Did this Akashi understand the difference between liking someone and forcing them? Or did he simply view everything in the world as something to be won? Was Kuroko just that? A toy for Akashi to use, something he could win to beat his other half?
Shaking his head to clear these thoughts, Kuroko glanced up at Akashi, his eyes wide in what he would only call as defiance. "Please get off me, Akashi-kun."
Akashi stared at him for a minute, his eyes unfocused. And then, quickly, it was like his one eye switched to red, like the old Akashi-kun was looking at him. It lasted for only a second, but to Kuroko, it was like a millennium. It was what he needed, at any rate. That small slip of this Akashi . . . it was enough.
It was enough for him to realize that his Akashi-kun was still somewhere deep down, still here even with this imposter.
He was still here, somewhere.
Before Kuroko knew what was happening, Akashi was standing over him, his face unreadable. His two mismatched eyes were like dancing fire. Finally, he turned around, but not before saying, so low that Kuroko almost missed it, "One day you'll be mine Tetsuya. I'll win this game, and make sure you fall out of love with him."
And with that, Kuroko was left irrevocably alone.
All alone, his shirt riding up, his ankle an impressive shade of purple, tears silently streaming down his face.
XXX
So that's the end! Now don't worry; not all of these one-shots will be so dark—it just so happened that this idea kept pestering me, and I had to finish it, haha :D But seriously, let me know what you think in a review! In a nutshell, Kuroko likes Akashi (the original), and his feelings aren't returned; Akashi (the new one, the one with the Emperor Eye) likes Kuroko, but Kuroko doesn't like him. Kind of like a Midsummer Night's Dream, hehe :D
Any other questions, feel free to message me! :D
And also, please remember that requests are currently OPEN ^.^
See ya guys! Till next chapter!