Kuroko sat in a booth in Maji Burger, staring down at the vanilla shake he held in both hands. He had hoped that the cold drink would feel good in his over-warm mouth and throat, but instead it just seemed thick and cloying. It was difficult to swallow and had very little flavor. His stomach was turning over, again and again. Strange that something that had given him so much pleasure just the other day could be so repulsive now.

His cellphone rested next to his hand. Kuroko looked at it. He could send Kagami another text. He could ask him to come to Maji Burger right now, instead of after practice. Kagami would do it. He would bring the entire team if Kuroko told him why he was here.

But that wasn't what Kuroko wanted. He wanted a chance to find out, on his own, what the truth was. If Kagami came, he would bluster and fight and roar, and any chance of a calm discussion would be obliterated.

Sometimes, of course, Kuroko appreciated it when Kagami blustered and fought and roared. He might even need it later today. Kagami's anger and indignation on his behalf, that first night when everything fell apart, had been Kuroko's first real clue that something was wrong with the path his life had taken. It had just...never occurred to him that there was another way. That he did not have to accept his father's treatment of him. Since then, Kuroko had learned a lot. He was a bit astonished that the Kuroko of a week ago could have been so blind and foolish.

"Tetsuya?"

Kuroko raised his head carefully so the dizziness did not get worse. His father slid into the booth across from him, just as Kuroko had requested. His nose was bruised and swollen, and his eyes were weary and rimmed with red.

"Hello, Father." Tension poured over Kuroko's body, tightening every muscle and stiffening every limb. It was a completely physical reaction to his father's proximity, reflexive and uncontrollable. He tried to make himself relax, but he couldn't.

How long had he been having this response to his father's presence? Kuroko honestly couldn't remember. He should have paid more attention to himself.

Father gave him a smile, soft and wavering. "Thank you for meeting me. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but it's like you to give me one anyway."

Kuroko's head spun. "I'm not...I'm not giving you a second chance," he said slowly. "I gave you a second chance...when I was eight. After the first time you hurt me. Since then, I have given you many, many more chances."

Father's lips flattened into a straight line. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

"Do you remember when I was ten years old, and I bounced a basketball too loud in the house, and you struck my face? I gave you another chance then. And when I was eleven, and crying because I missed my mother, and you shook me so hard that I bit my tongue and the blood ran out? I gave you another chance then." Kuroko blinked, his breath growing ragged. He hadn't thought of these incidents for years.

He hadn't only been supressing his emotions, it appeared.

Father nodded stiffly. "That's true. Both of those things are true. I'm sorry, Tetsuya. I have hurt you many times. Please forgive me."

"How many chances should I give you? How many will be enough?"

"At least one more. Please, Tetsuya. One more chance. It will never happen again."

"You said that before, too." Tears pricked at Kuroko's eyes. He looked down at the table and rubbed them away with the heel of his hand. "How can I believe anything you say when you've made so many promises, and broken them all?"

"Tetsuya..." The man's voice was choked. He started to reach out toward Kuroko, but stopped when Kuroko flinched away, hard, hitting his back against the wall behind him. Father raised his hands, open and conciliatory.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Please, Tetsuya, try to remember the good times, too. We used to watch basketball games together on the TV. I loved how excited you were, how you would chatter about how cool it was and how much you wanted to play. I was so proud when you found your own way to play in middle school. We used to go for walks in the park, do you remember that? Spring was the best. It's spring now. We could go for a walk now."

Kuroko shook his head. "No. No, we can't. You went too far, Father. You hurt me too much. I gave you many, many chances, and I can't do it anymore."

Father sat back, his hands falling slowly toward the table. "Are you saying... Are you saying this is it? You won't come home to me?"

Kuroko shook his head again. "I can't. That place is not my home anymore. All it holds for me now is pain and regret."

"Tetsuya..."

Father reached out for him again. This time he ignored Kuroko's flinch and pressed on. Kuroko pulled away and folded his hands against his chest, out of reach. "Don't touch me!" Terror beat in his chest, in his temples. Was he truly going to attack him in public, in the middle of a popular restaurant? He had hoped that setting their meeting here would prevent that.

Father had half-risen, reaching for him. Now he sat back down, his face flaming red, as Kuroko's raised voice drew attention from the patrons around them. He looked around, wary and fuming, until everyone's attention returned to their food.

"Dammit, Tetsuya!" He pounded his fist on the table, making Kuroko jump. His voice was low and the motion was carefully hidden, but Kuroko's heart pounded in his chest. He felt like he was going to pass out. "How can you act like this? It was just a few mistakes. I've already apologized. What else do you want from me?"

Kuroko held very still. The tears had dried up, burning away in the heat of his fever. His face was very hot, now. He felt like he was standing in an oven, and his clothes seemed to scratch his skin everywhere they touched him. "You said you realized what you'd done. Do you...do truly not remember? Do you truly not understand why I can't go home with you anymore?"

Father nodded. "I know I hit you. I know I hurt you. I regret it. Why isn't that enough?"

"Father...you...you beat me. With a strap. Not just once, but many times. Yes, you hit me too, and those bruises are still healing. A week and a half ago you slapped my ear so hard that it still aches now." He pulled at the collar of his t-shirt and hoodie to reveal the fading welt wrapped around his shoulder. "Do you not remember this? Do you not remember the way I cried and begged you to stop?"

Father pressed his hands flat on the table. His expression was tight and strained. His eyes flicked to the welt, then away, as if he couldn't bear to look at it. "I thought...I thought that was a dream. I hoped it was a dream. I hoped... I swear to you, Tetsuya, I would never do that if I was my rightful self. That was...not me. I could never do that to you. Never. That was someone else wearing my form."

Kuroko closed his eyes, swaying gently where he sat. This was what he had wanted to believe. What he had convinced himself to be the case. But it was not the whole truth.

He opened his eyes and faced his father again. "Even if that's so, the person who did that is inside of you. He's part of you. I can never believe that he won't return again. You...you made a choice to let that person come out. I asked you not to, and you did it anyway. I cannot trust your word that it won't happen again."

"But it won't, Tesuya." Father pressed his hands flat on the table and leaned forward. His eyes were intense, dark and flaming. Kuroko did his best to hold his ground. "I swear that it won't."

"I told you. You've broken your promises too many times. I can't trust you anymore."

"Dammit." Father looked away, his eyes narrowed. His hand clenched into a fist on the table. When he looked back to Kuroko, his eyes were sharp and hard. "I hoped it wouldn't have to come to this. I hoped that my sincerity and my love for you would be enough. I see I must accept that that is not the case. Enough of this. I am your father, and I am ordering you to come home with me. Now."

Kuroko trembled. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too tight. "No. I won't."

"You must."

"I refuse. I cannot."

"Dammit, Tetsuya." He slapped the table again, low and hard. His face was red again, but this time was pure anger. "I am your father. I have cared for you since you were born. I feed and clothe you and give you spending money to buy your precious books and posters. I let you have your choice of high schools, even though Seirin is inconvenient and expensive. I encourage your hobbies, even when it's clear that you don't have the talent or the physical aptitude for them. I have done everything I am supposed to do. So now you must be a good son and obey my command."

"A good son," Kuroko echoed. His lips felt numb. He could barely hear his own voice. "That's what you said...when you were beating me..."

"Well, I was right about that part, then." Father pointed a finger at him, his voice rumbling in his chest. "Be a good son. Do not trouble me with this nonsense. A good son does what he is told. A good son does not cause a scandal by leaving his father's house to stay with strangers."

"A scandal..." Kuroko felt hot and cold all over. "This is about...you wanting me to not cause a scandal..."

Father's eyes widened, and he sat straight. He seemed to realize that he had made a mistake. "No. It's because I'm your father, and I love you. I want you to come home with me."

Kuroko shook his head too quickly and almost fell over. "No... I understand now. You don't want me to cause a scandal..."

It was just like Hiroshi-san had said. It was all about saving face. His father had just earned a promotion. His social standing was higher now—his pay was better. He didn't want to lose what he had gained just because his son was hurting.

The tears came again, hot and bitter. Father said something else, but Kuroko couldn't hear him. He scrubbed at his face but couldn't make the tears stop. "You... Did you ever truly love me at all? Or did you hate me all this time?"

"No, Tetsuya." His voice was quiet, desperate. "Tetsuya, I love you, of course I do. Haven't I said so? You look just like your mother, and I loved her desperately. How could I not love you? You're talking nonsense. You must have a very bad fever."

"I do...I do have a fever...but I'm not talking nonsense..." Despite everything, despite the fever and the pain and the dizziness and the weakness, Kuroko felt that he was seeing clearly for the very first time. He rubbed at his tears, his hands shaking, but they continued to flow. The grief had risen, overwhelming him. "Yes, you have said that you love me. Many times. You have offered words upon words. But your actions do not match them."

He lifted his head to face his father, though he could only see him vaguely through the tears. "You told me what a good son does. But you don't seem to understand what a good father does. A good father does not beat his son until he bleeds. A good father does not call his son a monster. A good father does not break his son's heart, over and over again, for years. But that's what you have done."

"Tetsuya..."

Kuroko pressed his hands to his chest and blinked at the tears. He could feel the warmth inside him growing as he remembered. "I know what a good father does. A good father sacrifices his own comfort just so he can speak to his son, even though they are separated by an ocean. A good father wants to know everything about his son's life and is happy when he is happy. A good father is willing to miss important work so that he can fly to the side of a son who is sick or wounded."

"Tetsuya, what is this nonsense you are speaking..."

The tears slowed, then stopped. "You are my father, and you say that you love me. If that's true, you will release me now. Don't force me to go home with you to a place that terrifies me, with a man who tormented me. Please, please, Father, I'm begging you. Give up your rights to me and let me be adopted by Kagami Hiroshi."

He could see his father's face now. It was pale and drawn with emotion. Kuroko's entire body tensed again. Please, please, let this be enough. Let his father see that this was done now, and let him go.

"What..." Father's voice was a growl. "What nonsense is this... Who... What bastard are you describing? Kagami Hiroshi...?"

"The father of my friend, Kagami Taiga. You met Kagami-kun last week. Kagami Hiroshi is a good father, and he wants me to be his son." Kuroko's voice barely trembled at all. He felt stronger when he thought about Kagami and Hiroshi-san.

Father held still for a moment. His face slowly changed from pale to red again. Kuroko held his breath.

"No." The word was a harsh buzz of rage. "Never."

His rose from his seat, his body stiff with fury. Kuroko huddled into himself, helpless and frozen. He felt like a small animal under the eye of a predator. His father stalked over to his side of the booth and grabbed his arm, even though Kuroko tried to cower away. He started pulling him out by sheer force.

"Enough of this." He didn't care that people were looking at them again, either. "You're my son, and you're coming home with me. Right this instant, Tetsuya, do you hear me? You're coming home now, and I'll never let you go again."