A/N: Do you guys think I need a beta-reader? I'm always afraid that I make silly grammar mistakes and am too blind to correct them. xD Also, totally not crack. Have fun reading!

Crossroad of Life

[ . . . 4 . . .]

[ . . . trigger of a puzzle's clockwork . . . ]

"We have it in our power to begin the world over again."

– Thomas Paine

Some people say a train ride is, more often than not, a boring way to spend minutes or an hour or two of your life before you face the unavoidable; your workplace or school. Some might even say it's a good way to sleep in a little, assuming if there's something or someone to wake you up before you miss your stop. There's also a minority who use this time as a golden chance to grope unsuspecting and probably tired school girls, but those are just perverts and therefore don't really count.

But for Kuroko, this train ride is probably the most unpleasant and more or less annoying one he has ever experienced in his entire life.

That is because a pest in the form of a grown man keeps on... questioning him in the most irrelevant and useless things.

In the time – which was less than an hour, really – he has met Izaya, he can safely define the strange man accordingly.

One moment, Izaya was grinning from ear to ear like a child with the world's greatest toy (except that it wasn't an inanimate object he had but it was more like the toy was Kuroko instead) and vibrating in his seat as if he had too much sugar. Of course, the child example this man was setting would've been complete if it weren't for the fact that his legs were too long to swing back and forth under the seat.

"Hey, why is your hair blue?" Izaya patted Kuroko's head like a dog.

If Izaya owned a pet… Well, it should be pitied and if dead – which is more than likely –, should be given the most magnificent and grand funeral better than a shoebox buried in the backyard or flushed down the toilet bowl. That's the least someone could do for an animal that suffers or suffered from the hands of the one with the god complex.

"It's like you dyed it with the color of the sky!"

"Your eyes are blue too! But... you can't dye your eyes!" Izaya proceeded to manhandle his face with his left hand and use his right to attempt in taking off nonexistent colored contacts. He immediately lost interest when Kuroko jabbed his stomach with fingers straightened like a knife ready to stab and proceeded to dramatically wince in pain.

Then Izaya turned his attention to a pregnant woman in the next compartment, sleeping on her husband's shoulder and said in a soft and conspiring voice, "That woman is really, really..." He paused for a dramatic effect and silence. "... Fat."

Orihara Izaya is a very unfocused and talkative individual.

Izaya leaned closer to Kuroko's ear to whisper, "What's the color of your underwear?" With a hand to cover his mouth and Kuroko's ear as if Izaya was telling the world's biggest secret of all time. Or maybe even a conspiring theory about the government.

When faced with Kuroko's patented glare number five, also known as 'you-are-stupid-thus-I-am-not-inclined-to-answer', Izaya frowned and put both hands to the sides of his head, imitating an esper with telekinesis. He closed his eyes tightly, brought his hands closer to press his skin and gave a look of constipated concentration.

"I will use my super awesome crazy powerful psychic powers to find out... it's... it's..." His eyes opened quick, his frozen posture jerked and a flinch from Kuroko later (which he will deny ever doing), "It's a Hello Kitty pattern!" Izaya shouted in a mock gasp of surprise, maybe even a little hurt that it wasn't a color while pointing rudely at Kuroko.

"Other patterns like hearts are okay but Hello Kitty?" Izaya shook his head mournfully, as if it was a big blow to mankind. "I am sooooo~oooo judging you right now."

Orihara Izaya is talented in making people feel uncomfortable.

One suppressed urge to bury his head in his hands later, Izaya turned around to face the window of the bullet train and started playing peek-a-boo with his reflection. Many giggles ensued with mad cackling in between and the number of scared occupants increased.

Stopping his impromptu game of peek-a-boo, he turned around with the most serious face one can muster after saying and doing ridiculous things and deadpanned, "Hello, this is your train conductor and I would like to advise to not eat the free peanuts in packets." He parroted his sentence. "I repeat; do not eat the free peanuts in packets. They are evil and will steal your soul."

Izaya stopped after ten minutes of pretending to be a voice recorder, which made Kuroko sigh in relief until said person started to play a game of imitating vehicle sounds, two minutes each precisely. Silently, Kuroko wondered in awe how the man beside him did that without a watch.

"Choo choo choo beeeeeeeeeep- "

"Vroom vroom vroom! Vroooooooooooooooom!"

"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwww- "

The airplane one was the worst.

Orihara Izaya is definitely mad.

He really doesn't know if he should regret this, but he made his bed and must now lay in it, whether he wants to or not.

While Kuroko wasn't looking, Izaya took off his jacket, tied the sleeves together around his neck and disappeared.

"Nananana, Batman!" He shouted with a hand punched in the air, running back and forth between train compartments, causing a few people to lose years of their life and faint amusement in the process.

Kuroko grimaced inwardly.

. . .

. .

. . .

They got off the train after an hour and a half or so, which saved Kuroko a bit of his sanity and cut down Izaya's hobby of scaring people for no apparent reason. Even after those actions Izaya had done, Kuroko remained calm and maintained a perfect poker face; the nightmare of any inexperienced or terrible poker players. The two walked together, steps matching each other as if they meticulously practiced synchronizing them and surprisingly, in silence with Izaya leading.

Curious as he was, Kuroko wouldn't bother asking why Izaya acted more strange than a man stuck in a straitjacket and in an asylum for life, where he was taking him or what the man was planning to do. Holding off any silly or questions that would be answered sooner or later, would save Kuroko his breath and time. Despite the fact that following a stranger was practically a no-no because people taking advantage of kindness was a common problem in today's society, it was all the more thrilling and dangerous.

Izaya started with a simple conversation – bringing him back on track –, sounding like the perfect copy of the Cheshire Cat and the epitome of uncaring and inhumane. A clear contrast to his earlier behavior and the seemingly seamless transition from imbecilic to deadly serious tells many things about Orihara Izaya, especially one.

He is someone not to be trifled with.

"I know we've just met and it sounds a little silly of me to say, but," He said, rolling off each word clearly, grinning all the way. Kuroko, even though he didn't show it, hung onto every single word. "You see, we share something in common."

The way he emphasized 'common' can mean many things, but Kuroko knows the true one instead of confusing himself over nothing and overcomplicating such a simple statement. This was the moment where Izaya would test him, in a way. To see if what made them move, thrive and tick and if they were all the same.

To see what made them feel alive.

To be honest, Kuroko wanted to know as much as Izaya did.

(What if Kuroko was inhumane, too?)

To show it, Izaya tapped his head lightly with his index finger. "We share the same way of thinking, but not necessarily the same mindset or personality." He hummed, swinging back and forth while balancing himself using the balls of his feet. "Oh, but I do know we share an excitement for something amazing. New. Something fun."

"Now, Kuroko-kun," he says it all as easily as foretelling the weather and asking about the time, "How far are you willing to go to create an exciting game of human chess?"

. . .

. .

. . .

(Something so intoxicating until you drown, drown, drown in the exhilarating deep darkness as it envelopes and welcomes you.)

. . .

. .

. . .

Something clicked in the deep recesses of his mind, his heart unchained and his soul free. It was like a trigger of a machine's clockwork; an intricate and difficult design suddenly stopped all of its programmed movements and with a simple push of a button, it reverses itself to create a new system, a different puzzle.

(Maybe that was its true design.

Maybe it was the true him.)

For once, Kuroko wanted everything to be simple. No heartbreaks, no intruders, no strangers and no friendships. Only him, his manifestation of selfishness and freedom in the form of a man in the world he breathed, lived and walked in.

. . .

A/N: Whoop. Not much to say today. Please leave a review!