Smoke.
When Kuroko wakes up, his body feels uncomfortably warm and sticky underneath blankets that smell strongly of mothballs. Resigned to the living room couch, Kuroko had to pull out blankets with teddy bear patterns from the depths of his closet and it had been a miracle he had been able to fall asleep at all last night, with the smell of mothballs wafting under his nose. Now, in the early morning - or what Kuroko hopes is the morning; he curses at how late the four of them had stayed up last night - the smell of smoke overpowers even the mothballs.
A few seconds later, the sound of the smoke detector kicks in, ringing through Kuroko's ears, and making his entire head hurt. He isn't remotely awake enough for this, he thinks.
Kicking the blankets off immediately, Kuroko tumbles off the couch, glancing around the living room. Nothing appeared to be on fire. He rubs his eyes, blinks the grainy sleep out, and checks again. Nothing burning. In his haste, he trips several times as he rushes down the hall into the study. Nothing burning there either. Then he checks the bathroom, and even the tiny hallway closet. Still nothing.
The last place downstairs and perhaps, the most likely, where he should have checked first, Kuroko scowls, scolding himself mentally as he rushes down the hall, is the kitchen. The kitchen light is turned on, indicating someone else's presence - either that, or fire, Kuroko thinks cynically - but as he rounds the corner, bursting into the kitchen, he doesn't see a fire. The smoke makes his eyes water and what he does spot is a thin column of smoke rising from the toaster on the kitchen counter.
"Akashi-kun?" Kuroko asks incredulously, ogling at the red headed culprit standing next to the smoking toaster. Akashi jumps, his back having been turned to the entrance of the kitchen, and his phone nearly slips out of his grasp. He turns to face Kuroko with unblinking, unperturbed eyes, as if he hadn't just made the toaster cough out half a room full of smoke. "What in the world are you doing?" Kuroko chokes out.
"Tetsuya," Akashi greets, "Good morning. I'm currently searching up how to make smoke stop coming out of a toaster, of course." He says this as if it's the most natural thing and Kuroko is panicking for absolutely no reason at all. He shoots Kuroko a look that says, Tetsuya, I've got this under control, but obviously, that's far from the case because the toaster starts to make distressing noise and the smoke alarm hasn't stopped beeping for the past six minutes. Maybe some other time, Kuroko would have laughed at the situation, where the great Akashi Seijuro was looming uncertainty over a coughing toaster, looking nothing like a powerful heir and more like a six year old boy who had stolen from the cookie jar and was now facing the stomachache afterwards. But now, Kuroko only feels a migraine larger than the size of Akashi's ego that he's had coming ever since Akashi stepped into the house threatening to settle in.
Shoving Akashi aside, Kuroko storms over, unplugs the toaster, and opens the kitchen windows. A lone loaf of bread sits on the counter.
"Did you seriously burn toast?" Kuroko sounds like the calm before the storm and Akashi looks wary. Smart boy, Kuroko decides.
"No."
"I suppose the toast burned itself, then?" Kuroko drags a chair from the dining table underneath the smoke detector, stepping onto the chair to mute the smoke detector's obnoxious beeping.
"You'd be correct."
"You're ridiculous." Hazy with smoke, the kitchen smells like burnt toast and Akashi Seijuro's shame. "Come on, let's wait for the kitchen to air out."
Akashi follows Kuroko out of the kitchen, back to the living room. It's nothing short of a miracle that the neighbors haven't been woken up by the screeching smoke alarm and that there are no firemen knocking down his door, but even more amazing is that Kagami had managed to sleep through the ruckus. Kuroko thrusts open every window as far as he can to try to air out the house before his parents came back. The smell of smoke still clings to Akashi's clothes and he walks around the house, smelling like a barbecue grill so Kuroko pushes him upstairs, ordering him to change.
"Why the hell," Kuroko says, when Akashi comes back down with a new shirt and shorts, at least having the decency to look sheepish, "were you up at seven in the morning trying to burn toast?"
"I wasn't trying to burn toast," Akashi retorts. "I was just - it's good to try new things."
New things, Kuroko thinks faintly. This boy has never used a toaster in his life. Do rich people even eat toast? The migraine from before is definitely starting to settle in.
"Come on, you can tell me why," Kuroko implores, "I promise I'll try not to laugh. No guarantees though because toast burning stories are always because of stupidity."
Akashi flashes him a resentful look. "Not a word about this incident will ever be spoken again. Not a word."
"I'm going to remember this until the day I die," Kuroko promises. "I'm going to come find you someday, when you're getting married, and I'll go to wedding and I'll tell this story over fancy, expensive champagne and your new wife will never ever be able to take you seriously again because the mighty Akashi Seijuro can't even make toast."
Akashi's face tinges red and while there wasn't a fire burning up the house, there certainly is one spreading across Akashi's face.
"Kidding, I was kidding," Kuroko says, "I won't tell anyone. Except Ogiwara-kun. And Kagami-kun."
"That's everyone!" Akashi exclaims "I was just hungry, okay?"
Kuroko shoots him a dubious look but shrugs. "You could've woken me up. My parents are coming home today, actually. You're lucky they didn't come home to see you in a kitchen full of a smoke. They would have lost it."
"You were tired from last night," Akashi scoffs, "I thought you should get some sleep."
"I'd prefer for you to wake up rather than you burning down my house," Kuroko replies flatly. "And my sleep was interrupted anyways, but thank you for the thought."
"You're vicious in the morning."
Yeah, because it's seven thirty and we went to sleep at five last night, Kuroko thinks sourly, and these past few days, you people keep me waking up at ungodly hours.
"I guess," he replies. "Are you still hungry? After the kitchen's aired out I could make-"
"There's no need," Akashi interrupts, "I'm not hungry. Uh, the incident, made me lose my appetite, I guess."
"Oh. Are you sure?"
"Yes," Akashi bites out. Kuroko's taken aback by his hostile tone that warns conversation ends here. But Kuroko still has more to say.
"Is there something wrong?"
"What? No, why would there be? Don't be ridiculous."
"I said," Kuroko repeats, ignoring Akashi's last statement, "Is there something wrong? You're acting weird again."
"No I'm not."
Kuroko shoots him a contemptuous look, rolling his eyes. "You always say that whenever you act weird."
"Don't be ridiculous," Akashi repeats. "I don't act weird. Don't stick your nose into business that doesn't concern you."
Silence.
And then,
"Do you still not trust me?" Kuroko asks, quietly.
"No!" Akashi blurts out. Blue eyes stare back at him. Embarrassed at his outburst, Akashi back tracks, crossing his arms. Defensive. Again. Kuroko can see Akashi's walls building up again, large and impenetrable and something ugly claws at Kuroko's chest, desperate to be heard and whatever it is, it suddenly gives him the unyielding urge to scream at Akashi.
It feels like nothing has changed at all. Like Akashi's thrown the last few weeks, last night, straight into this morning's almost fire and it feels like their almost something has gone up in smoke and drifted out the open windows.
"There's nothing wrong." Akashi stresses the nothing with such finesse that Kuroko almost misses it. Almost.
"Liar," Kuroko spits. Akashi scowls.
"Don't make false accusations, Tetsuya."
No, Kuroko wants to scream, because he remembers painfully that he's not Tetsuya to Akashi because of their friendship or close bond but Akashi calls him Tetsuya as a way to mock him, disrespect him. Kuroko tries to swallow that frustration down too and it makes his throat hurt, and his stomach churn.
He scrutinizes Akashi who only stares straight back at Kuroko, eyes defiant and his face a barren wasteland of emotions.
"Okay," Kuroko says, and he tries his final attempt at editing some kind of a confession, emotion, or the smallest reaction out of Akashi: "I'll take your word for it."
Akashi's face remains Victorian-picture stern, chillingly impassive, and Kuroko tries not to feel like someone's punched the airs out of his lungs.
He walks up the stairs, Akashi following.
Whatever the spat had been about five minutes ago, it was over now. They don't bring it up, moving onto other subjects. Neither of them seemed to be in the mood to stir up a fight.
"You smell like mothballs," Akashi comments from behind him and Kuroko does what he's been doing all morning: just barely manages to swallow down the retorts and ignorance, stomaching them for breakfast. Go me, he think. He wrenches open the door to his ex-bedroom, where the room is still dark and heavy with sleep and Kagami's zombie like state is flung over the bed, twisted among the sheets and blankets. Kuroko steps over to Akashi's bed and promptly collapses onto the mattress, feeling relief seep into his tired body. Now that the disaster has been handled, he wants to sleep for an eternity and ignore Akashi. He pulls the blankets that smell like Akashi over him and hopes the smell of mothballs are rubbing onto the bed sheets and blankets.
"What are you doing?" Akashi demands.
"Quiet down, Kagami-kun's still sleeping," Kuroko says, voice muffled. It's only an excuse to get Akashi to shut up. Kagami could sleep through anything.
Akashi ignores him. "Get off my bed!"
Akashi tears the blankets from Kuroko who holds onto the other end stubbornly, and when that doesn't work, he drops the blankets, grabbing Kuroko's arm in an attempt to drag him off.
"Go away," Kuroko mutters, tearing his arm from Akashi's grasp and curling into the blankets, "I'm going to sleep, and if you wake me up again, I will do you bodily harm."
Akashi leaves him alone after that and Kuroko wakes up again, a couple of hours later. Kagami's bed is empty. The clock reads eleven fifty two. He lays in bed a bit longer, feeling groggy and sticky. The bed grows unbearably hot so Kuroko throws the blankets off, thrashing around in discomfort at the heat, cursing at the lack of air conditioning in the house, and eventually, rolls out of bed. Kuroko walks down the stairs, and peeks into the living room, leery of any head on confrontation with Akashi. The living room is empty, but from down the hall, he can hear the sound of sizzling food that makes his stomach growl and the smell of something delicious wafts over. Perhaps his parents have returned home when he was asleep. All Kuroko knows as of now is that he's simply excited for the prospect of good food.
When Kuroko steps into the kitchen, he looks around for his parents, but instead of his dad sitting at the table reading the newspaper, it's Akashi, who sits on the bar stools near the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone, and instead of his mom rushing around the kitchen with her flower apron, it's Kagami, wearing a hideous neon green apron instead, darting around the kitchen, his arms laden with ingredients and with none of the grace and ease that Kuroko's mom holds, but it elicits the exact same bloom of fondness in Kuroko's chest.
"Oh, hey, Kuroko, you're up!" Kagami grins. He tries to wave and nearly drops the carton of eggs that balances precariously on the bag of rice and chicken also in his hands.
"What's for lunch?" Kuroko questions. His stomach is speaking for him. "I'm starving."
"We were making lunch," Kagami says. "Now I'm just making omurice. Alone. As in, this guy here -" he jerks his thumb to Akashi who protest meekly, "-is no help at all."
Blobs of ketchup stain the granite counter and when Akashi sees Kuroko staring at the stains, he grabs a handful of napkins, slapping them over the ketchup in a sorry attempt to cover the mess, before nonchalantly returning his attention to his phone.
"You're banned," Kuroko says, turning to Akashi. "You're banned from stepping into the kitchen ever again. That's two screw ups in one morning."
"What was the first one?" Kagami asks. Akashi balks and the bar stool screeches against the floor as he hastens to stand up.
"He burnt toast," Kuroko snickers. At this, Kagami's eyes light up in interest. Akashi pockets his phone faster than Kuroko has ever seen him do before and the next moment, he's walking towards Kuroko who's afraid Akashi was walking over to yell at him, but instead, Akashi pushes past Kuroko, rushing out of the kitchen so fast that Kuroko swears he can feel wind breeze past his face, and he just barely catches profanities and other incoherent words that Akashi mutters under his breath.
"Hey, where are you going?" Kuroko demands to Akashi. The latter doesn't bother stopping, stalking out of the kitchen.
"Out. I'm going out," Akashi says, his voice drifting down the hall, growing fainter and fainter as he walks away, "to the backyard, or something. I don't know. Just. Out."
"What, going to visit Saru?"
There's a pause. "Yeah, sure. I'm going to visit Saru."
The sliding door to the backyard opens, and Akashi all but slams the sliding door shut and there's nothing after that. Kagami turns to Kuroko, amusement written over every crinkle of his eye smile.
"What was that about?" Kuroko frowns.
"No clue," Kagami says, breathless through silent laughter. Liar. "No clue at all."
"Come on, not you too," Kuroko whines. He can take Akashi keeping secrets - the red haired boy always had something he wasn't sharing, always pushing and pulling at the same time - but Kagami tells Kuroko everything, from family troubles to that one time his swim trunks had come loose in the ocean. "Everyone's keeping secrets."
"Oh, Kuroko," Kagami says, cracking an egg onto the frying pan. It sizzles and after a few moments, Kagami flips it over perfectly with the skill of a seasoned chef, "someday you'll understand."
Scrunching up his face, Kuroko frowns.
He's always been the intuitive one, the one who notices the small details and gestures and it's never him that doesn't understand because he's always been good at reading people. People, with the exception of Akashi Seijuro.
"I don't think I will."
Kuroko wipes the sticky ketchup off the counter with the napkins Akashi had slapped down, leaving shiny stick in the wake of the ketchup that he'll have to sponge off. He's about to throw the wad of napkins away when something in the trash can catches his eye, and with closer inspection, he can see a burnt pancake with a blackened, misshapen heart in the middle.
A funny feeling overcomes Kuroko. Kagami looks over at Kuroko whose gaze is focused on the trash can, and he grins crookedly.
"Nah," Kagami says, "I think you will."
Throwing away the wad of napkins, Kuroko turns away and tries not to overthink anything.
It's only a burnt pancake.
With a heart in the middle.
A misshapen, ugly, distorted heart. but still a heart, nevertheless.
Kuroko swallows nervously and his throat feels so dry. He walks over to the sink to pour himself a cup of water. The omelette in the pan finishes cooking and Kagami slides the first plate of finished omurice over to Kuroko, wordlessly, starting on his second omelette. Kuroko looks at the plate of omurice sitting on the counter.
When Kagami asks later why Kuroko had dropped the thankfully plastic cup of water in his hand, spilling water all over his feet and the kitchen floor, Kuroko grips the mop tightly in his hand and for the first time in a long time, lies to Kagami.
Lies and says that his grip had just slipped.
Lies to pretend he wasn't thinking about a burnt pancake and how the omelette Kagami had made was yellow and fluffy and encased the rice underneath, a flawless creation, as always.
Lies that he isn't thinking about red hair and the kitchen that had been half filled with smoke this morning.