Warning: Smoking, Violence, abuse. Please do not read if these may be a trigger for you.
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The light blue haired boy shuffled through his pocket into his jeans until his fingers found a cool metal box. Pulled it from the denom and flicked the cap. His thumb ran itself down the side of the box. A small flame exoploded from the top. It swayed in the air daring to cause
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harm. However it only found its way to the end of a cylinder. The smells instantly danced around him. The sent of thick smog enveloped his every sense.
Like puzzle pieces the cigarette seemed to sit between his thin fingers with ease. The smoke trailed upwards creating an art piece. He pulled it to his lips letting the art flow into his breathes. The breathes grew relaxing. With every inhale followed a soft exhale of wondrous patterns.
He closed his eye with ease, continuing to breathe in the silence. The smoke found its way with the wind. Following the path out into the melody of the rain.
Soft footsteps broke the peaceful steps as it steeped into puddles.
“Back at it again?”
The voice let out a humorous laugh. Calm yet had an lingering anger, hidden, but not enough.
“I never could stop”
Without neither having to say a thing, the boy pulled out the metal box once again, throwing it toward the other person, who caught it without a second thought.
“Same old Kuroko, huh?” He quickly lit his cigarette.
“Of course...”
Although there was a slience that neither wanted to give up, life had other plans. There were just too many unsaid words, and if not said, it would be the downfall of many. So they weren't given a choice.
Kuroko didn't know how to bring up the subject. While it it needed to be said, it needed to be brought up delicately. Or things would get messy. When things were messy, mistakes followed. Something that they couldn't afford. “...He back”
The boy stiffened, before hesitantly questioning, “When?”
Looking above, Kuroko observed the sky. Just a few days ago the moon, showed only half. Representing both light and darkness, good and bad. But as he looked now, the moon glowed brightly, in its full glory, not a space unseen.
The moon was a mysterious stranger in the sky, its face changing with each passing night. Some nights, like today, it was full and round, while others it was a mere sliver, like a secret smile in the darkness.
It made him think of people, namely of one person. How different aspects of a person can be displayed even if it may be the same individual. They can decide which side to present. Changing at they see fit. However, they will never display their whole face, exactly like the moon. A secret aspect will always exist, whether you know it or not.
He exhaled loudly, memories that were forever in his head, came back. Back to the day he met him…
*Flashback*
“It was years ago” He waved his hand, dismissing the entire situation, like always. When things became to much, he would act like it never happened. As if the feeling of the other person didn't matter. They were being dramatic he would say.
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“I doesn't matter! I still have the scars. I still have the fucking memories engraved into my mind. I can't forget. No matter how much time passes!” he yell. Trying to get the old man to even think about how his action could affect others.
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“You should be happy. I gave you the scars and memories. I made you who you are, Kuroko.” The man smirked. “Before me you were nothing. But now...” he raises his arm as he walked closer. Wrapping his hand around the back of the boy’s neck, using his thumb to rub circles on the his cheek. “Now you're someone important. Someone who can be useful.”
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Kuroko held back a growl.
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Then stood straight, forcing his self to not flinch, at the burning sensation on his cheek. The man’s touch alone was enough to get a reaction out of him.
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He loathed it.
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“I didn't need you” he moved the man’s hand, backing away. “I didn't then, and I don't now...”
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And with that Kuroko left, making sure not to make a sound.
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He flinched when the pelting raindrops landed on him. The blue-haired boy could feel each one as it made contact with him, but his feet couldn't move. His legs buckled under him and his knees went weak.
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His clothes were now drenched, yet he couldn’t care less. The rain wasn't the issue. His abandonment was not the issue. The problem was that he didn’t care.
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Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes became hours.
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The sounds of raindrops hitting the quiet street no longer existed, but instead calm waves. The waves drew him in more. But with each tug, they took something away from him. It started with his sense of time. Than his awareness.
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What happened to him? He couldn't recall anything? But again, he never wanted to remember it. Despite the fact that the waves were drowning him, there was something there. A solace? Warmth? There was something preventing him from ever desiring to reaching the surface.
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Kuroko's eyes widened as a scratchy substance wrapped itself about him. His eyes widened when he noticed the scarlet towel wrapped over his upper body.
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A dark-haired man towered over him, saying, "My name is Fujioka Katsumi."
