Betrayal In Its Most Simplest Form
Chapter 11
My Kuroko no Basuke Christmas Four-Shot (Called Kiseki no Christmas) is finally out! Please check it out :)
"Do you have everything?"
Akashi walked into the living room, carrying a small bag stuffed with necessities. He was wearing a button-down, long-sleeved red shirt with its collar folded and navy washed jeans. A loose tie was tied lazily around his neck, which would be fixed later. His red hair, already quite short, was combed neatly. An unknown gold ring sat coldly on his ring finger of his right hand.
"Hai." Kuroko tied his left basketball shoe before straightening to face the red-head. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn the day he escaped from his mother, but they were washed, repaired, and cleaned. Unlike his outfit from the other day though, Kuroko wore a black scarf, given by Akashi. "Oh, is Akashi-kun going somewhere? You are dressed formally." He was talking about Akashi's choice of clothing.
"Yes, but it will be after you leave." Akashi gave Kuroko the bag. The blue-head looked at it questioningly. "Your father has mentioned he is running out of first-aid supplies, and he cannot buy some without being discreet. Keep this in your room at all times, and hide it from Ibuki."
"Yes," Kuroko said obediently. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, wincing as he did so.
Three, heavy knocks came from the front door. The two looked over in unison. "That should be your father," Akashi murmured, striding toward the door. He opened it abruptly. True enough, Kuroko Haru stood anxiously at the threshold, his similar eyebrows furrowed low. "Tetsuya!" the father cried, not bothering to greet Akashi, and rushed into the house to embrace his son. "Thank goodness. Are you well? Did you eat?" Haru hugged Kuroko hard, patting the teal head while rubbing his back at the same time.
"Ah, Otou-san," Kuroko said. His pale arms wrapped gently around his father. "I am well, and yes, I ate."
"Are you sure?" Haru patted his hands over Kuroko's face, shoulders, chest, and back. When he got to his stomach, the smaller winced. "You're hurt, aren't you? Is it your bones? Bruises? Cuts? Is your head okay? You can walk, right? Do you need to re-wrap something?"
Akashi walked behind the father and put his hand on his shoulder. "He is fine, Haru-san. Please give him space."
Haru looked up to the red-head and blinked. "Akashi-kun," he said. The man straightened and turned toward the teen. "Ah . . ." Haru pressed his lips together in a straight line, before surprising the two basketball players by suddenly bowing low to Akashi. "Thank you very much for taking care of Tetsuya!" Kuroko's father said toward the ground. "I regret to have given you such a burden."
Akashi tilted his head, amused. "Haru-san, you really shouldn't bow so low to people younger than yourself."
Haru raised his head and put a hand on Kuroko's shoulder. "No, I have to show my appreciation. Without you, I—I," the tall man took a deep, shuddering breath. "I really do not know what would become of Tetsuya."
Akashi studied Kuroko's father. Understanding how the man felt completely, he nodded ever so slightly at the thanks. "I see where Tetsuya gets his overly polite manners," he raised an eyebrow at Kuroko. The teal-haired boy looked down. "It was not a burden. Tetsuya has healed well during his time here." Akashi gazed at Kuroko's ribs, where a number of bruises were left. "I trust he will be safe for a few days?"
Haru hesitated. "Yes. I will do my all to keep Tetsuya away from Ibuki's anger."
"Hm." Akashi went up to Kuroko and put his hands on the slim shoulders. "You know Daiki's and Shintaro's phone numbers," he said. "I will most likely be in Kyoto the next time you call me. If you need any of us to come to your aid, call them first." He looked into Kuroko's blank eyes. "Understand?"
"Yes," Kuroko said quietly.
Haru watched the exchange curiously, and wondered what the real relationship between his son and Akashi was. "We should get going, now," Haru announced. He turned toward his son. "Is everything ready?"
"Hai," Kuroko adjusted the strap on the backpack and looked at his father expectantly.
"Good," Haru patted his son's head and gave him a swift kiss near the temple. He led Kuroko toward the door and turned around to thank Akashi again.
Akashi stopped him from showing his appreciation, again. "Haru-san, know that I will do everything to get Tetsuya out of that house. I understand your problem of custody, but that is the least of my worries. Tetsuya will not stay in that house much longer, whether you have custody or not. I hope you realize that."
Haru was speechless. Kuroko politely bowed to the red-head. "Thank you, Akashi-kun."
All they got was a simple: "Hm."
Kuroko walked to the familiar blue van and carefully sat in the passenger seat, mindful of his bruises. He took off the backpack and set it in front of him. Haru slid into the driver's seat and locked the car doors. With the keys already set, he immediately pulled out of the parking space and drove out to the road.
The first few minutes of the car ride were awkward. Kuroko, a naturally silent person, didn't speak; simply looking out the window was good enough for him. Haru, on the other hand, wanted to talk to his son, but didn't know how. The father gripped the steering wheel nervously. He was never really good at starting conversations.
"Ano . . ."
"You know . . ."
They both started talking at the same time. Kuroko stopped, and Haru chuckled. "You can go first, Otou-san," his son said.
The said father sighed heavily. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the words weren't coming. "How—how are your injuries? Are they healing well?" Haru cleared his throat and considerably lowered his voice, "I heard she made you fall from the second floor."
"I am fine," Kuroko said, determined not to bring any bad memories. He rubbed his ribs gently. "The bruises are just starting to heal. Midorima-kun said there were no broken bones."
"I see," Haru paused. "Tetsuya, do you know how to defend yourself? I know I left you in your room, telling you to fight back, but it never occurred to me that you wouldn't know how," the car came to a stop at a red light. Kuroko's father took advantage of this and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. "I am so sorry, Tetsuya," he whispered. "I should have known Ibuki would come home before me, and I should have known she would break into your room. It was selfish and stupid of me to leave you when you were still healing. It was wrong, and I'm sorry." The last few words were cracked as tears fell from the older man's eyes. His knuckles were white from clutching the wheel too tightly.
"Please stop, Otou-san," Kuroko faintly said. "It was not your fault." When there was no response, he added, "Akashi-kun taught me Aikido. I know how to defend myself."
The light turned blue, and Haru had no choice but to lift his head and start driving. He did, though, hear his son's comment. "Akashi-kun? He taught you Aikido?" An image of the wild red-head instructing his frail son Aikido popped into his head, and he laughed. Kuroko didn't know what was so funny. "Akashi-kun seems to care for you, a lot," Haru commented after his laughter died out.
"Yes," Kuroko looked at his small hands. "Not just Akashi-kun though. Everybody in the first string in middle school."
"Teiko, right?" Haru asked.
Kuroko nodded. "Midorima-kun, Murasakibara-kun, Aomine-kun, Kise-kun . . . They're all there," he said softly. "They've all been there since middle school."
"They know . . . of Ibuki?"
"Yes," he answered. "They know of Okaa-san, and yet they try to help me. They try to protect me." Kuroko started shaking, his body shuddering from his words, "It makes me feel weak. Akashi-kun is doing reckless deeds for my sake, even though he could be hurt. I want to do something, but I can't." The teal-haired boy put a hand to his face, shaking as he did so.
Haru slowly parked in front of their house. He put the car in parking and took out the keys. Now that the soft hum of the car was cut off, the silence in the air was heavy. Kuroko didn't even want to move; he wanted to stay in the car until someone told him he didn't have to go into his house.
A heavy hand set upon Kuroko's head. Kuroko looked at his father, who was staring gently into his eyes. "I'm sure they don't want you to do something," Haru murmured. "I'm glad you have friends that can help you, as well." The man sighed and kissed his son's forehead swiftly. "We have to go inside. Ibuki is home, but you are to go to your room immediately, understand?"
"Hai." Kuroko grabbed his backpack and put it over his shoulder.
Haru nodded, got out of the car, and went around to open his son's door. Kuroko carefully jumped out. Fear was trying to prod into his brain, but Kuroko stayed firm. He didn't want to have another panic attack. His mother fed on fear of other people, and Kuroko refused to give her the satisfaction.
The two silently walked to the front door. Haru stopped just as he was about to push the house key in, and took a deep breath. "One, two, three," he whispered and unlocked the door. Kuroko made sure to keep his face blank.
"Quickly, go in," Haru whispered and pushed his son inside the house. Kuroko went inside his all-too familiar house, taking off his shoes quickly so that he could run when needed. And he had a feeling he would need to, soon.
"Hm? Haru, are you home?"
The voice almost made Kuroko freeze. His resolve wavered, but he kept his face blank and mind stable. He clenched his hands to the hide the fact they were shaking. Haru leaned down to whisper in Kuroko's ear, "Get ready to go to your room."
"Haru?" Ibuki stepped from out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Her eyes went from Haru to Kuroko. Her mouth spread into a crazed grin. "Tetsu-kun," she purred. "Welcome home." She stepped forward, a glint in her eyes. In her hands, she held a knife she was using in the kitchen. "Have you come to apologize to me?"
Kuroko swallowed, but his eyes stayed emotionless. In a monotone voice, he said, "I'm home, Okaa-san."
Ibuki, angry that she couldn't read her son's expression, curled her lip into a snarl. "You dare say this is your home after you defied me after so many times?" She took another dangerous step toward Kuroko. "Come here, Tetsuya."
Kuroko couldn't move. "Tetsuya, go to your room," Haru ordered.
He couldn't move.
"Tetsu-kun, come here," Ibuki commanded.
He couldn't move.
"Go, Tetsuya!" his father sharpened his voice.
He couldn't move.
"Come here!" Ibuki screeched. When she realized the boy would not move, she started advancing toward him, the knife reflecting the light from the hallway.
"Go!" Haru shouted. He walked swiftly across the hallway to restrain his wife. His hands grabbed Ibuki's shoulder from behind, mindful of the sharp knife in her hands. Disgustingly, he yanked her body so that it was secure next to his. "Drop the knife, Ibuki," he hissed. "Drop the knife."
"Let me go!" his wife screamed. She struggled against her restraints. The knife waved wildly in her hands, and the edge sliced part of Haru's arm. It ripped through his shirt and left a large gash. He clenched his jaw against the pain. "Let me go, Haru! I have to set that wretched child straight! Give him to me! He needs to broken; in pain; crying! Can't you see his face? He's mocking me! Mocking me with those eyes! Let go of me!"
Her wails started to become louder. Ibuki's wretched voice echoed throughout the hallway and bounced back to Kuroko's ears. Kuroko stood frozen at the scene, looked at the blood dripping from his father's arm. He caused this. He caused his father pain.
"Tetsuya, go!" Haru shouted.
"Don't you dare listen to him, Tetsu!" Ibuki roared. "You come here, right now. I'll set you back in your place; you'll learn to not defy me! I swear I will break that mocking face of yours. I will break it."
"Please go," the bleeding man pleaded. Kuroko tried to move. Haru lowered his voice then, but made sure his son could still hear his words, "Would you disobey me, Tetsuya, your father?"
That made Kuroko snap out of his trance. If there was anything he hated doing, it was to disobey his father, the one who had been there for him since the start. The teal-haired boy starting moving, his movements faster and faster at each step. Ibuki yelled at him to come to her and insulted him with degrading words, but he kept moving, his eyes avoiding the puddle of blood as he passed his father. Kuroko ran all the way up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him. Still not feeling safe, he locked the door, dragged two of the heavy chairs in his room and put them right underneath the doorknob, barricading the door.
"Damn it, let go, Haru! He's a degrading child! He mocks me! He needs to be set in his place; he needs to be broken! I hate him. He's so arrogant, so useless to me! Let me go; let me teach him what happens when he defies me! Let go, Haru!" Ibuki's crazed sobs traveled through Kuroko's bedroom door.
Kuroko slammed his back to the wall, ignoring the pain it caused throughout his body, and slid down to the floor slowly. He did not cry, nor did he make a sound. He simply stared blankly at the window, the image of blood imprinted in his mind, the echoes of his mother's word still echoing in his ears. He clenched his hands tightly.
Okaa-san, what did I do wrong to deserve your hatred?
~Setting Skip~
"Oil?" Kagami scratched the back of his head and looked at the recipe again. "That's unhealthy, I heard. I'll use water instead." He filled the pan with a small amount of sink water. "And then . . . add the vegetables." Setting the pan back on the stove, he picked up the freshly cut vegetables and threw it in the pan. It sizzled in response. "Spread the vegetables around evenly," he read aloud. The vegetables sizzled even more as he moved them around with chopsticks.
Suddenly, Kagami felt a vibrating in his back pocket. Moving the chopsticks to his left hand, he grabbed out the cell phone from his pocket and answered, "Hello?"
"Taiga."
"Oh, Dad," Kagami raised an eccentric eyebrow. "Don't tell me you've already got information."
Kagami's father wryly replied, "Yes, I actually did. Are you underestimating me?"
"Hard not to, old man," the tall ace grumbled. He read the next set of instructions and added the extra ingredients into the pan.
"When did you get so bratty?" his father sighed. "Anyway, yes, I did get information on the woman, Kuroko Ibuki. Currently, she is 36 years old, 5'7", and 133 pounds—which is about168 centimeters and 60 kilograms. She went to the University of Tokyo, majored in business and economics, graduating with the highest scores out of everyone. She lived in America, but apparently she now lives in Japan. Owning three of the largest corporations in Japan, Ibuki Corporation, The Atari, and Rasa Corps, Kuroko Ibuki is one of the most influential people in the country." Kagami's father hesitated in the middle. "However, there is something that's bothering me."
Kagami, who had turned down the stove and was writing furiously at the information his father was giving him, paused and asked, "What is it?"
"Well, first of all, I can't find any of her transfer files."
"Transfer files?"
"Since she was born in America and lived in America for some time, there should be immigrant files to show her legal residence in Japan. Usually, I can find that easily in the system, especially since she owns our sister business branch there, but there isn't any." Kagami wrote this note down quickly. "Also, I called each one of the companies she owned, and found something . . . strange."
The tall red-head frowned and sat down on a wooden chair. His notepad and pen came with him. "What do you mean by strange?"
"Strange as in three identities," his father said. "I called the Ibuki Corporation, and I was informed their owner was Kuroko Ibuki. However, when I called The Atari, their owner's name was Suzuki Akihiko . . . Rasa Corps' owner is Abe Miku."
"Three different names, but one owner?" Kagami asked, incredulous.
"And the three businesses don't seem to know about it. Each of them claims Suzuki Akihiko or Abe Miku is the one that owns three of the large businesses. I looked up both of the names, and found completely different information from Kuroko Ibuki."
"Two of the names are male, too," Kagami murmured, scribbling down the information he just received.
His father sighed over the phone. "Now that I've told you this, would you mind telling me why you want to know about this woman so much?"
The ace set his pen down and leaned back against the chair, stretching his legs with a loud groan. He took a deep breath and relaxed in the kitchen chair. "Kuroko Ibuki is the mother of my teammate."
"Of your basketball team?"
"Yes," Kagami stopped and delayed his answer before: "I think she might be abusing him."
Kagami's father didn't answer for a long time. ". . . I see," he finally said. "I will do everything I can to get more information about this woman, then."
"Thanks, Dad."
"On another subject, have you considered—?"
"No, I will not move to America. Bye, Dad." He hung up.
~Setting Skip~
"We have arrived at Kyoto. The doors are opening. Please stand clear."
The few people in Akashi's car stood up and got ready to leave the train. The red-head did the same, adjusting his tie around his neck and expensive watch on his wrist. When the doors fully opened, he stepped out of the train and was immediately greeted by Kyoto's cold weather.
Akashi walked on Kyoto's mildly busy streets. It wasn't as busy, since it wasn't rush hour, but busy enough that he had to dodge little, disobedient kids who chose to run from their parents. Some store owners he knew greeted him politely as he passed by. He only gave them a terse reply.
Akashi, since he did not want to take a filthy taxi and ruin his clothes, turned corners and went up and down steep streets. The place he was going to was a long walk from the station. It didn't bother him, though, since he was used to long walks and 'tiring' hills. If one didn't have strong legs to walk this far, especially a basketball player, then they truly were weak.
Kuroko as an exception, of course.
Finally, he reached his destination. It was the largest house in the city, so it was hard to miss. A small gate blocked off trespassers, and a small intercom was drilled to the gate. Akashi pushed the button and waited for an answer.
"Akashi residence," a familiar voice answered.
"It is me," Akashi said.
There was a long pause. "Seijuro . . . Let me open the gates."
The intercom disconnected, and a second later, the gates automatically opened. Akashi immediately stepped through, walking toward the large front door of the huge house. It opened before he could reach it, and a tall, red-head man stepped through the threshold. Just like Akashi, the man's hair was a fiery red and very short. He had the same authoritative aura the teen gave off, and his face was somewhat intimidating. Unlike Akashi, though, the man was tall, and instead of having hetero eyes of yellow and red, both of his eyes contained a pigment of red and yellow. It almost created orange.
"Seijuro. I did not expect you to come visit," the unknown man said.
"I'm sorry, Father," Akashi walked up the few steps of his porch and walked into the house when the man let him. "I know this is last-minute."
"Indeed it is," Akashi Hayato closed the grand door, locking it as he did so. He snapped his fingers, and a servant appeared, bowing deeply at his son and himself. Then she helped Akashi take off his coat, revealing the red button-down shirt. He looked at his son's outfit approvingly. "What brings you here?"
Akashi loosened his tie. "I actually need an hour of your time, if possible." He looked around his childhood house. "Where is Mother?"
"She went back to work to check on some details for a case," Hayato checked his watch and sighed. Even though he really was tight on schedule today, it was rare of his son to come visit and ask for a talk, especially since he bought him an apartment close by. It must be important. "I can spare an hour or two. Would you like to go the family room?"
Akashi nodded. "Thank you."
"Aiko," his father called. "Please bring two cups of tea to the family room and a small treat."
"Hai, Akashi-san," the maid bowed and scurried off to do her job.
Father and son walked to the large family room, where comfortable couches, chairs, and small round tables awaited them. Akashi sat in an oversized chair for himself, his posture formal with his back erect, legs crossed one over the other, and his two hands overlapping each other on his knee. Hayato sat more relaxed, across from his son on a leather couch, one arm draped across the top of the couch and one hand in his lap. He had to restrain from rolling his eyes at how formal his son was.
"Your tea, Akashi-san," Aiko rushed in, holding a tray of steaming cups of tea. She set the cups in the middle of the table in front of them, along with a tray of soy flavored rice crackers. "Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you."
She left.
"So what is it that you need to talk about, Seijuro?" Hayato reached for the tea, along with a rice cracker. He sipped it slowly.
Akashi did the same, but bit into his rice cracker first. "Father, are you aware of the woman, Kuroko Ibuki?"
Hayato didn't show any surprise on his face at the name. He calmly drank his tea and set his cup down. "Yes, Kuroko Ibuki, thirty-six years old, a top graduate of the University of Tokyo, owns three large corporations, and mysteriously claims two identities," his father listed off from the top of his head. Hayato, being an elite lawyer, knew these kinds of people from the top of his head. "What of her, Seijuro?"
Akashi raised an eyebrow. "So you do know, and you're also aware of her multiple identities. However, she has three." He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to his father. "Those are the three names I have discovered from calling all three corporations. None of them are aware of her identities, and due to her high influence, only a few amounts of people know of it."
"Three?" Hayato, mirroring his son, raised a red eyebrow and unfolded the piece of paper. He read the names out loud, "Kuroko Ibuki, Suzuki Akihiko, and . . . Abe Miku." The man pressed his lips together and looked at the paper strangely. "That is—unusual. Why are you so interested in her? Did she do something to you?"
"Actually, yes." Akashi grabbed another rice cracker and bit into it slowly.
His father narrowed his eyes. "Did she hurt you?" he demanded. "Threaten? Insult? Touch you?"
Akashi shook his head and scoffed. As if someone could touch him. "No, Father . . . she is the mother and abuser of Kuroko Tetsuya."
"Kuroko Tets—the one you have known since middle school?"
"Yes."
"She abuses him?"
"Yes."
Hayato, his father side switched off and his lawyer side switched on, asked, "And where is your proof, Seijuro?"
Akashi, knowing his father and predicted this question, instantly answered, "Tetsuya's father is willing to make a statement. I also have many witnesses, and I am sure Tetsuya, the victim, would make a statement as well."
" . . . What do you want me to do, Seijuro?"
He, who was waiting for this invitation, leaned forward and said, "I want you to use your power and investigate everything about these three identities. Find as much proof as you can, Father, in order to persecute her in court. I know of her influence, but there is one large secret that I'm trying to unravel; that could destroy her." Akashi leaned back and sighed. "Yet, I don't have enough connections yet to find it. I need your help, Father."
Hayato hesitated. He also knew of Kuroko Ibuki's power, and attacking her could mean a downfall to his business in law. However, knowing that his son swallowed his pride and came here to ask him for help, this Tetsuya friend of his must be important.
Also, his wife, a family lawyer, would not stand to let a person who abuses a child go wild in the streets. He sighed heavily. Hayato knew he had no choice.
For the next hour, the two discussed plans about Ibuki. Akashi, having spent years with his father, understood the lawyer terms his father used and was even able to come up with his own plans, mapping out the connections and calls. Hayato listed a series of names and phone numbers that could be helpful to them and were not influenced by Ibuki's power. Hayato, the only person Akashi could not beat in Shogi, the one who had raised the teen to become a devious, powerful leader, smiled almost sadistically at the almost flawless plan they were making. Akashi, the one everybody listened to, the one who had enough skill to bring down an average adult both physically and mentally, had a glint in his eyes as he saw an image of Kuroko Ibuki being brought down to her knees.
Soon, an hour passed, and their planned actions were stabled. Akashi stood up and stretched his limbs. "Thank you for your time," he said formally. "I will soon be contacting these people to get information."
"Hm," Hayato also stood up and stretched. "By the way, Seijuro, have you gotten yourself a nice girlfriend?"
Akashi threw a glare at him. "No, Father, I have not, and I will not."
"I want grandkids when I'm older, Seijuro. I also don't want a son who runs my business later in the years alone without a wife."
"I have no interest in the area of dating women right now," he replied indifferently. "Besides . . . I already have someone precious by my side."
Hayato gave his son a gaze of interest. "Oh? Who?"
Akashi didn't answer.
His father smirked, "Is it this Tetsuya of yours?"
Again, Akashi didn't answer.
(I'm sorry for not updating the last few days! I was extremely busy, with holidays and whatnot. This is a long chapter, though! There will most likely be typos, so PLEASE point out if you see some type of obvious mistake so that I can fix it. My dead, sleepy eyes won't catch them right now.
Anyway, my Christmas Four-shot of the Generation of Miracles was released on Christmas. Yes, the main couple is AkaKuro in my Christmas shot. Please check it out! Thank you for your support!)