Ship: Kuroko & GoM (could be Akashi/Kuroko and Aomine/Kise but it's not explicit) Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: Character death Other Tags: none Word Count: 789
***
There are the parents, sombre and tight-lipped; there is a little cousin who keeps asking for Tecchan because she doesn’t understand; to Aomine's left is Momoi with wet eyes and a handkerchief balled up in her fist. Near the immediate family stands Akashi in deep velvety black, his face expressionless but his knuckles white. There are people Aomine recognises from high school peppered throughout the crowd, people Kuroko would probably greet with a smile but whom Aomine can't even put a school to. None of them really matter when in the very front of the room is Kuroko.
It's not even a nice room. Kuroko's family isn't well-off, and they're too proud for charity, even at a time like this. The chairs are plastic and the air smells like very strong bathroom detergent, strong enough to cover other unpleasant odours and take Aomine's mind off the oily residue in the air that probably belonged to other people. There are a lot of flowers, too, enough that Murasakibara keeps going out for breathers despite Midorima's thousand-yard-stare. Aomine can't blame him. It probably hasn't sunk in yet. It hasn't sunk in for him, either.
The photograph Kuroko's family chose to frame is not a very recent one– Kuroko still has the shorter hair from university before he grew it out again. He’s looking slightly away from the camera with a quiet smile on his face, and Aomine can see the happiness in the tilt of Kuroko's eyebrows and the spark of his eyes. It’s a good choice, better than the studio photos he usually expects at these things. But then it’s probably Akashi who chose it. Akashi, who hasn’t shed a single tear since the news came, who’s been pale and drawn and efficient all through the past few days. He’ll probably collapse soon, and Aomine is wretchedly glad that he doesn’t have to be the one to pull Akashi back together.
When the monk signals the guests to come forward with their offerings and prayers, Aomine hangs back. He’s not Buddhist or even religious, and he’s pretty sure Kuroko wasn’t either. He watches the people go up and whisper their piece; Kuroko’s unimates, his coworkers from the kindergarten, the Miracles, Seirin. Everyone but him.
Aomine slips out while Kagami is bowing stiffly before the altar, the monk’s sutra humming accusingly in his ears.
Kuroko wouldn't have wanted this, he thinks, with no basis at all other than his own instincts and years of being Kuroko's best friend. He's almost certain that everyone who actually knew Kuroko would agree with him, anyway.
"Rude as always, Aominecchi."
Of course, right on cue.
"Yeah, says the asshole who followed me out here." Aomine turns to see Kise, a wry tilt to his mouth, back against a pillar like it was made to for him. Kise has been strangely dry-eyed throughout this whole interminable affair, and Aomine feels oddly like he's talking to a different person.
"It's a lot," Kise says, pushing off the pillar and coming to lean on the railing next to Aomine. "In there. I don't want to hear Akashicchi say stuff."
Aomine gets it. Akashi hides it well, but inside he's roiling with fury and nowhere to let it out, because it's no one's fault. An unusually severe storm, a freak gust of wind, a falling roof tile and a child in the way. There was even a bit in the paper about how sad it was and how unfortunate an accident. Kuroko wouldn't have said anything like that.
Heavy smoke pours out the chimneys from the building next door, the wind carrying it over to where they stand. Kuroko's family will go there next, and Aomine won't be welcome, or any of the rest of them. It's weird how these things go-- weird how the lines of blood are clear and he understands and still it aches, deep in Aomine's chest, like it has since he heard and only gets worse. He takes a breath, and another, and keeps going because nothing is filling his lungs enough and it's so hard to get some fucking oxygen, here--
"It's okay," Kise says, touching his arm. Aomine shakes him off, still trying to breathe, and he can't until Kise catches him by the collar and pulls him down, face in the crook of Kise's neck.
"It's okay," Kise says again, but his voice is trembling this time and somehow that makes Aomine steady on his feet.
"He had," a pause, Kise's whole body shuddering, "he had a good time."
"Could have done with a little more of it," Aomine mumbles, and they laugh through the saltwater on their faces, laugh even though it feels like nothing will ever be funny again.
FILL: Team Kirishima Natsuya/Yamazaki Sousuke, G
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: Character death
Other Tags: none
Word Count: 789
***
There are the parents, sombre and tight-lipped; there is a little cousin who keeps asking for Tecchan because she doesn’t understand; to Aomine's left is Momoi with wet eyes and a handkerchief balled up in her fist. Near the immediate family stands Akashi in deep velvety black, his face expressionless but his knuckles white. There are people Aomine recognises from high school peppered throughout the crowd, people Kuroko would probably greet with a smile but whom Aomine can't even put a school to. None of them really matter when in the very front of the room is Kuroko.
It's not even a nice room. Kuroko's family isn't well-off, and they're too proud for charity, even at a time like this. The chairs are plastic and the air smells like very strong bathroom detergent, strong enough to cover other unpleasant odours and take Aomine's mind off the oily residue in the air that probably belonged to other people. There are a lot of flowers, too, enough that Murasakibara keeps going out for breathers despite Midorima's thousand-yard-stare. Aomine can't blame him. It probably hasn't sunk in yet. It hasn't sunk in for him, either.
The photograph Kuroko's family chose to frame is not a very recent one– Kuroko still has the shorter hair from university before he grew it out again. He’s looking slightly away from the camera with a quiet smile on his face, and Aomine can see the happiness in the tilt of Kuroko's eyebrows and the spark of his eyes. It’s a good choice, better than the studio photos he usually expects at these things. But then it’s probably Akashi who chose it. Akashi, who hasn’t shed a single tear since the news came, who’s been pale and drawn and efficient all through the past few days. He’ll probably collapse soon, and Aomine is wretchedly glad that he doesn’t have to be the one to pull Akashi back together.
When the monk signals the guests to come forward with their offerings and prayers, Aomine hangs back. He’s not Buddhist or even religious, and he’s pretty sure Kuroko wasn’t either. He watches the people go up and whisper their piece; Kuroko’s unimates, his coworkers from the kindergarten, the Miracles, Seirin. Everyone but him.
Aomine slips out while Kagami is bowing stiffly before the altar, the monk’s sutra humming accusingly in his ears.
Kuroko wouldn't have wanted this, he thinks, with no basis at all other than his own instincts and years of being Kuroko's best friend. He's almost certain that everyone who actually knew Kuroko would agree with him, anyway.
"Rude as always, Aominecchi."
Of course, right on cue.
"Yeah, says the asshole who followed me out here." Aomine turns to see Kise, a wry tilt to his mouth, back against a pillar like it was made to for him. Kise has been strangely dry-eyed throughout this whole interminable affair, and Aomine feels oddly like he's talking to a different person.
"It's a lot," Kise says, pushing off the pillar and coming to lean on the railing next to Aomine. "In there. I don't want to hear Akashicchi say stuff."
Aomine gets it. Akashi hides it well, but inside he's roiling with fury and nowhere to let it out, because it's no one's fault. An unusually severe storm, a freak gust of wind, a falling roof tile and a child in the way. There was even a bit in the paper about how sad it was and how unfortunate an accident. Kuroko wouldn't have said anything like that.
Heavy smoke pours out the chimneys from the building next door, the wind carrying it over to where they stand. Kuroko's family will go there next, and Aomine won't be welcome, or any of the rest of them. It's weird how these things go-- weird how the lines of blood are clear and he understands and still it aches, deep in Aomine's chest, like it has since he heard and only gets worse. He takes a breath, and another, and keeps going because nothing is filling his lungs enough and it's so hard to get some fucking oxygen, here--
"It's okay," Kise says, touching his arm. Aomine shakes him off, still trying to breathe, and he can't until Kise catches him by the collar and pulls him down, face in the crook of Kise's neck.
"It's okay," Kise says again, but his voice is trembling this time and somehow that makes Aomine steady on his feet.
"He had," a pause, Kise's whole body shuddering, "he had a good time."
"Could have done with a little more of it," Aomine mumbles, and they laugh through the saltwater on their faces, laugh even though it feels like nothing will ever be funny again.