a/n= Hello guys! I am finally back because the first year of college is almost over! I really miss writing this story, and to tell the truth, I suffer a bit from writer's block because I tried to alter my ideas a little bit. Sorry for the horrendously long update, and I hope you're still loyal reading this story =D This is the 2nd last chapter, and I will try uploading the last chapter as soon as possible, but I promise it won't be a long decade!

So please R&R and reviews are very appreciated!

For Kuroko, second guessing Akashi Seijuuro's whereabouts wasn't necessary.

Curling his clammy fingers into a fist, Kuroko broke into a hurried sprint. His heart raced along with his footsteps. The familiar ache sprouted on his chest and branched across his ribcages. Never had Kuroko felt so guilty in his life – guilty because he knew he was right.

As he bolted through the hospital wards, fleeting images of his memories spent with Akashi and Seijuuro drifted into his mind, shoving the self-loathing blade deeper into him. In order to cure Akashi Seijuuro, eliminating one of the souls from the vessel was the only way. After all, the characteristic of a psychologically healthy man bore his own memories and values. Kuroko knew that more than anyone else, yet he denied it.

Because he didn't want to lose them.

He loved Akashi.

He accepted Seijuuro.

He loved Akashi Seijuuro as a whole.

And that was his mistake.

Pursuing into this hopeless romance proved his imprudence. A proper relationship consisted of two mutual souls loving each another, just like Midorima and Takao – though it was short lived.

How funny – The most beautiful things lasted the shortest while. Even though most considered that prophecy as the norm, the pain of watching it slowly fading and dematerializing from our lives was inevitable.

If all beautiful things were meant to be disposed of….

...Why were they created in the first place?

Akashi Seijuuro's face came to mind.

Kuroko smiled weakly. Right now, he was going to erase one of the most beautiful things in his world with his own hands.

And he was certain this would work.

In the Akashi Household:

After placing the incense stick to its designated container, Masaomi performed one last bow for his decease wife. As his gaze fell upon Sera's photograph, a small smile managed to creep towards the corners of his lips. Smiling back at her as if she was alive, Masaomi caressed the wooden photo frame and squeezed his eyes shut. Even haunted by his bipolar disorder, Masaomi never failed to not miss her every single day.

Suddenly his cell phone buzzed, snapping Masaomi out of his reverie.

Frowning, the older brunet scooped his phone from the nearby stool. When he saw a familiar number, he raised a brow.

Hesitantly, he answered the call.

"Mr. Akashi." the receiver's voice was firm.

Masaomi inhaled sharply before replying. "Ah, Midorima...it's been awhile."

Midorima went silent for effect before speaking. "Today is the day, sir."

Masaomi's jaw dropped, but he quickly pursed his lips and gulped the hesitancy in his voice. His voice was an order. "I trust Akashi in your hands, Midorima."

"You're as nonchalant as ever, Mr. Akashi," Midorima remarked.

Masaomi frowned at the blunt comment. "I'm just being precise."

"Aren't you going to say anything to your son before Kuroko takes action?" Midorima questioned.

Pulling his lip into a thin line, Masaomi blinked. As a breath escaped from him, tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped underneath his chin.

"Mr. Akashi, what's the matter?" Midorima sounded wary at the long pause.

Masaomi's breath hitched, betraying his voice. "I'm fine. I have nothing to say."

In spite of the emotion brewing in Masaomi's voice, Midorima didn't pry. "I see. Then, good afternoon Mr. Akashi. I am looking forward to your long reunion with your real son."

Midorima hung up, leaving the man brooding over his actions.

After Midorima disappeared from the receiver, the noise of incessant beeps took over his place. Gradually, the constant beeping diminished from his eardrum, acted as an ultimatum warning and echoed inside his core. With built up frustration, Masaomi wept over his son.

At Midorima's office:

Midorima slapped his phone against his desk. Heaving a long-held sigh, Midorima yanked the glasses of his eyes and placed it on his table with a similar manner. The dread that gnawed his soul escaped with his sigh, leaving his chest with a little less comfortable chill. Midorima was done; his job was over. He trusted Kuroko would finish the rest without his help. This was where he stopped.

Finally, he gained the time that was taken away from him – privacy. Midorima thought he would be happier, but a hollow pit of nothingness drilled inside him, exposing overflowing random emotions Midorima couldn't even count or comprehend. The grass-haired male equipped a remote expression as a result.

"It must be hard, isn't it?" Kise's voice dragged him to reality. "I mean, everyone seems to be suffering."

Midorima twitched a smile. "It will end soon."

Eyes fixed on the floor, Kise slipped his hands inside his lab coat pocket. "Then, isn't it time to end your own suffering?"

Midorima's heart leaped. His sharply glared at Kise, demanding for clarification. Yet, Midorima was aware of the answer to his own questionable gaze.

Kise never looked at Midorima's defensive stance to figure it out. "Pack your stuff and call it for a day. I will be here when Kuroko comes back."

Midorima gritted his teeth at Kise's ambiguity. Despite the mild irritation towards blonde, deep down he wanted Kise to speak it out loud for his goddamn ears to hear.

He wanted Kise to outwardly confirm that Takao was dead.

Midorima rebuked. "I am responsible for this whole ordeal –"

"Leave." Kise cut him, his eyes slanted to a dark glare. "Your job is done. Go to the place where you are supposed to be."

Midorima stared at the blonde for a long moment. An itch of laughter nearly billowed his stomach and pulled him to a giggling stance. Kise had grown up. Midorima wanted to praise him and laughed in disbelief at the same time.

Midorima undo his lab coat, draped it across his chair and headed towards the door.

Without any sentimental speech in mind, Midorima straightened his glasses and circled his fingers around the door knob.

"Thank you Kise," he spared a side-glance to the blonde, smiling thinly. "See you on the other side."

Midorima swung the door open and marched out of the room.

After counting one to ten since Midorima's disappearance, Kise flopped to Midorima's empty chair and heaved a sigh. As the blonde played with his thumbs, a smile of genuine relief creased on his lips. As his formerly tight-knit nerves slowly untangled themselves, a wave of soothing sensation flooded into his stomach, offering him a sense of abatement. It almost felt like euphoria – except without drugs.

Kise recalled the time when the doctor informed his family that his grandmother passed away in her sleep. Kise's eyes flew wide, mortified. Exactly the day before, his grandmother was weaving through the hospital wards while joking around with the nurse, calling her friends through the clinic's phone in a raucous manner, and baking cookies with Kise secretly in the cafeteria's kitchen.

When he saw his grandmother's limp body, Kise felt helpless. It was the exact same sensation when he saw Akashi turned to Seijuuro for the first time in Teiko, especially a part of it was his fault. The same feeling occurred when Kuroko took over or assisted Kise's clients during their working days.

Kise's being screamed dependence.

But not anymore.

He healed Aomine.

He served as Midorima's emotional pillar.

Now, he waited for his friend to return from rescuing his other friend.

As he leaned his head to the chair's headrest, a small smile slipped into his lips before he drifted into slumber.

With ragged breath, Kuroko crashed into the Tokyo cemetery.

As adrenaline streamed within his veins, restlessness prickled his skull and dragged his fear away from entering the field of polished marble stones. Kuroko never liked graveyards, but the anticipation of meeting Akashi and clouded his fears away

As the bluenet fearlessly weaved through the tombstones, his heartbeat escalated that he thought it would rip out of his chest. Nothing but encrypted names stared back at him, which only heightened his eeriness. The stillness of the graveyard but his scraping footsteps was a cherry on top.

Finally, his chest alleviated when he spotted a blob of red hair in the midst of sombre grey. Even though his body faced against Kuroko's vision, Kuroko didn't have to guess which of the Akashis that was standing before him.

Without hesitation, Kuroko yelled.

"Seijuuro!"his voice reverberated across the cemetery that it might wake the dead.

Seijuuro tensed. Stiffly, the heterochromatic male turned over his shoulders and followed his gaze towards the voice that beckoned for his name.

Then, their eyes met.

Red and gold met blue. Thousand of conflicting emotions circled in their minds like running water. They mirrored each other's expression – fragile and vulnerability. A heavy air hung between them, and one unwanted word would crack their emotional comfort zone, which was their solace for one another.

"Tetsuya, you came." Seijuuro's voice was kind.

Kuroko said nothing. Head dipped down, his gaze fixed towards the soil underneath.

Seijuuro studied Kuroko's features with nervous eyes and remarked. "What's the matter?"

Reluctant fingers slipped into his pocket. Kuroko rummaged for the dreaded item hanging inside his fabric, and dread settled on his chest when his fingers brushed against a familiar plastic. Kuroko couldn't do it. No, he should…

Seijuuro kept asking him for his silence. As Seijuuro's voice dripped with gentleness, it oiled the self-loathing blade into Kuroko's heart and pushed the blade deeper inside him. As guilt hovered above his head, the plastic mask became heavier as every second passed.

I got nothing to loose.

Finally, Kuroko yanked the mask off his pocket and tossed it on the ground. The white mask – half painted in red – landed on the ground ceremoniously.

As Seijuuro's eyes fell upon the fallen object, his mouth turned agape and he pointed the mask with shaky fingers.

"How did you get it?"

Kuroko replied flatly. "Midorima gave it to me."

The heavy air between them went thicker. Seijuuro's eyes flitted back and forth from the mask to Kuroko. Gulping, he stammered while shaking his head.

"Look, I didn't mean to throw it back then. I was emotional...if you're going to blame me for it then I will take – "

A smile broke out of Kuroko's remote expression. "I don't mean it like that. I present this mask to you for another purpose."

Seijuuro stared at him incredulously. His voice wary. "What are you talking about?"

"I finally solve the puzzle." Kuroko wrapped his fingers together. He smiled. "Kill and heal."

Hearing that, Seijuuro huffed a sigh and threw his arms in the air. "So you finally have come to a decision!" Seijuuro stated in an arrogant tone. "Technically, you have to choose between Akashi and I, am I right?"

"Yes, and my decision is final."

Kuroko's fingers reached for the half-painted mask. After a moment of hesitation, Kuroko scooped a handful of water from the nearby well and poured it over the mask.

The liquid corroded the red paint from the mask.

"Then, do you mind if I paint it red?" it was a question Kuroko asked Akashi a long time ago, welcoming Seijuuro's presence.

Seijuuro, of course, was aware of that. As anger slowly dwelled inside him, unadulterated rage flashed in his eyes and he roared.

"What is the meaning of this, Tetsuya?" he yanked Kuroko's collar, dragging the bluenet's face closer to him. "D-Don't tell me….Y-You choose the idiot over me..."

In spite of the turbulent of emotions swimming in Seijuuro's eyes, Kuroko replied with the usual smile Seijuuro had come to love. "Well, you would do the same."

Seijuuro was taken aback at Kuroko's response. "What do you know?"

After he took a deep breath, Kuroko spoke. "You want Akashi to heal more than anybody else. All this time, you feel guilty because your presence spurs DID inside him. So in return, you will do anything to help Akashi, including taking over his place in Teiko in spite of your suffering..."

Seijuuro chided. "You know it all! I do it because –!"

"You love Akashi," Kuroko stated with a firm tone. "You will do anything to help him. You took over his place in Teiko and Rakuzan, waiting for Akashi to return someday..."

"That bastard is never grateful!" Seijuuro hollered, frustration brimmed in his voice. "I did everything….but in the end, he wanted you for himself! I deserve you more, right Tetsuya?"

Kuroko felt a cold pang on his chest at the sight of Seijuuro's torn expression. As hot ache rooted within him, Kuroko couldn't hold the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. All this time, the bluenet had fallen in love with Seijuuro's unwavering kindness in spite of the suffering he had been through and the arrogant mask hiding his pain.

He was going to say it. It was now or never.

"Yes you do, Seijuuro," Kuroko said. "I am in love with you. I love you more than Akashi."

Seijuuro flinched. As he slowly let go of Kuroko's collar, he instantly wrapped his arms around Kuroko's body and pulled him into a tight hug. Long-held tears that lasted for years sprouted from his eye ducts, and without hesitation, Seijuuro wept on Kuroko's shoulders.

"Tetsuya….I...I...I love you too."

Kuroko ran a hand across Seijuuro's silky red-hair and gave a peck on his forehead. "I love you, Seijuuro."

They stayed like that for god knows how long. Kuroko knew once he let go of Seijuuro, there would be no other method to call him back. Seijuuro had suffered days and nights waiting for Akashi, and at the same time, keeping his unrequited feelings for Kuroko. It was foolish, but because of that, Kuroko fell in love with his strength. Seijuuro was like a firefly – it sparked brilliant light, but it was just a small fragile creature that lasted for a short while.

It was beautiful.

And Kuroko loved it.

"I get it." Seijuuro sobbed. "You need to settle things right. It is for the benefit of us all."

Kuroko gulped heavily. "Yes, you are right."

They released from each other's embrace, yet they pasted their foreheads to one another and intertwined their fingers together.

"I love you but," Kuroko said with a genuine smile. "I'm sorry, but I choose him."

Seijuuro nodded, shaking his head with a sad smile. "I know. The body is his anyways. I need to...fuck off."

Kuroko giggled. "You're still like yourself even in the last moments."

"At least I can depart without regrets, Tetsuya."

Kuroko ran a hand and traced Seijuuro's features. "Good bye, Seijuuro."

"Goodbye, Tetsuya."

They shared one last kiss.

Then instantly, Seijuuro's knees crashed to the ground. Kuroko sunk into a sitting position and cradled Seijuuro's head into his knees, running a thumb across his fragile features.

Kuroko killed Seijuuro.

A tear bead escaped from Kuroko's eyes, ran down his face and dripped down his chin. All of a sudden, the pain Kuroko had been holding for the past few months broke inside him like spilling water, and inordinate sorrow overwhelmed his heart.

Seijuuro was gone.

Seijuuro was no longer inside Akashi's body.

Seijuuro was back as a lingering soul.

Seijuuro was free.

Seijuuro was lonely.

Kuroko let out a despairing scream, followed by the booming thunder from above.

Then, he heard another voice.

"Even if he is not here, will you stay with me?"

Kuroko looked down, and he met a pair of identical crimson-eyes.

They would never turn gold again.