Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT…

taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

Akashi Seijūrō sighed, as they finally finished training. Today had been a long one and he was getting tired.

“That should be more than enough for today,” their head Coach — Shirogane Eiji, — said, as he stepped into Rakuzan’s First String gym. (Much to Akashi’s horror and displeasure, Rakuzan had a string-system, similarly to Teikō. To his eternal relief, the expectations of the school were realistic. Despite the similar ideology, Rakuzan was a school.) Teikō... Akashi was sure Teikō had never been a proper school.

The other starters — for only the five of them were present today, getting ready for a match in a few days, — groaned and huffed in relief. Akashi’s mismatched eyes swept over the three Generals and his Phantom player. As expected, Chihiro looked the worst off. Kotarō was just a little better. Reo and Eikichi seemed relatively fine, although obviously tired.

The coach looked at the three Generals sprawled on the floor and raised his gaze to meet Akashi’s. The (former) Captain of the Kiseki no Sedai matched the man’s gaze without a twitch. The white-clad monsters of Teikō were a hundred times more terrifying, than a disapproving coach.

“What did you do to them?” the man asked, half-disapproving, half-amused.

Akashi shook his head. “Nothing. I just had them go through some of our old Teikō routines,” he stated simply. (Shirogane didn’t have to know that the drills he had the team do were meant for the Third String of Teikō, while he himself had done the Second String’s increased menu.)

“I’m almost dead, Sei-chan,” Reo whined, shifting to sit up. “And you did twice as much, as we.” At that, their coach looked at him with slight shock, but Akashi didn’t turn to meet the man’s gaze. If he turned now, there will be questions — questions he refused to answer. “How are you even alive?”

Akashi sighed. ‘I learned to survive tooth and nail, Reo. Only survival matters in a cruel world, like ours. Besides, you’re human — I’m not sure I’m one anymore, so I can take much more,’ he thought darkly. Of course, he knew better, then to say that out loud.

He swiped the sweat from his brow with his shirt — this one at least, was relatively clean. No dirt or blood on it, not half-torn either. “I’m used to tough training. Teikō had expectations of us, as the Kai — Kiseki no Sedai,” he stated as calmly as he could, tongue only momentarily stumbling over the twisted version of their moniker. (It had hurt, when they had first heard it, after that fateful match against Yoneya. Yet, neither of them fought it, for they knew it was the truth — they had ceased being human by that time, after all.)

His coach’s eyes narrowed a little, as if the man had noticed his stumble. Akashi cursed in his mind, as the man opened his mouth. “And why…”

The question was cut off, as the gym door — which led to the outside area, — opened unexpectedly. Everyone looked up in surprise, after all, they were usually not bothered during training hours. And if they were, the teachers came from inside the building.

The person who staggered into the gym was soaked to the bone — for the rain was pouring outside as if there was no tomorrow. The clothes were clinging to the person’s form, blonde head hung low. Akashi only moved, when he realised that the stranger was not wearing Rakuzan’s uniform.

“I’m sorry but may we help you?” his coach spoke, before Akashi himself could.

Still he moved towards the person, just as he —for it was obvious it was a male, — raised his head. Blonde hair. Brown eyes.

Akashi’s heart skipped a beat in terror. (What was Ryōta doing here? He shouldn’t be here, lest they were found, for they never knew when they were being watched.)

“Seicchi…” he breathed, before falling.

Akashi moved as the first syllable left his teammate’s mouth, just barely catching the copycat. He was soaked to the bone and shivering, but what caught the Power Guard’s attention was the blood.

There was blood on the blonde’s face — a nasty scar and there was a dark bruise forming on his right wrist. Akashi could see the faint outlines of fingers; someone had grabbed the blonde and he wrestled himself free.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered softly. “Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes, before you catch a nasty cold.”

He guided the blonde towards the bench under the shocked, disbelieving eyes of his team and coach. “You know him?” the man asked.

Akashi nodded, turning to his own Small Forward. “Kotarō… would you be willing to lend your second set of training clothes? I’m afraid mine are not the right size for him and he can’t stay in these.”

The blonde’s cat-green eyes were wide for a long moment and then he staggered to his feet. “S-sure… I’ll get it in a moment.”

“I’ll get a- a towel,” Reo said in a hurry. Akashi nodded to him gratefully and then turned to his brother, painfully aware of the others’ eyes on him. Yet, his sole purpose right now, was to ensure the well-being of his brother (for the Kiseki could be nothing else, but his family).

He turned to the blonde, nudging him gently. “Get out of the clothes, please.”

The blonde was still deathly silent, as he tried to comply, but hissed, looking at his bruised hand with a frown. Akashi sighed and decided to help him. He was already wet — this couldn’t get much worse. They peeled off the wet designer clothes and Ryōta only winced twice.

The door creaked a little as his two teammates returned. Akashi didn’t look at them, because he froze in shock, once he noticed he dark bruise on he blonde’s side. Sorrow and boundless rage filled his senses in a second and the rest of Rakuzan gasped in shock.

“What happened?” he asked.

The blonde just shook his head. Akashi glanced at his team, taking the offered towels from his Vice-Captain. He gently wrapped the dry fabric around the other, helping him dry off. For several minutes, there was silence. Kotarō approached them carefully, placing the set of dry clothes on the bench, throwing a worried look at the other blonde. “Here, they’re dry and might even fit.”

“Thanks,” Ryōta muttered, reaching for the clothes. Akashi stepped back, letting him have space, though he lashed out like a snake, when the taller stumbled. He steadied the copycat, as he dragged the dry clothes onto himself, doing his best to hide the nasty injuries. The one on his side he could hide, but not the rest.

Akashi growled softly once more, as he noticed the ever-darkening mark on the model’s wrist. “Who did this to you?” his tone was low and soft, full of anger and promises of slow, bloody death.

“Seicchi…”

“Kise Ryōta,” he warned, tone clipped and worried at the same time. “Who?”

At the name, the rest of Rakuzan stilled and his coach raised an eyebrow, no doubt, recognising him. Both as a model — well, at least Reo certainly knew he was one, — and as one of the Generation.

“They… they found me,” he whispered. Akashi’s blood froze. He didn’t have to ask who the blonde meant. He knew very, very well.

A snarl left his lips at that and he stepped closer, gently draping his arms around the blonde, as the model curled onto him, taking care not to aggravate his injuries. “They recognised me,” he said hauntedly. “One would think… not wearing Kaijō uniform would be the good guise. But no. Times like this I hate my work,” he said quietly.

“Shush, now. Now you’re safe. Wouldn’t let anyone get close, you know?”

The blonde chuckled tiredly, leaning towards the bench. Akashi let him go and helped him to the bench, draping his own Rakuzan sweater on the blonde’s form, for extra warmth, because his skin was still cold from being outside in the rain for gods knew how long.

“I know…” he muttered. “Sorry for interrupting practice time.”

“We were finished already,” the redhead brushed him off. He glanced outside and then sighed. “Once the rain stops, we can leave. I’ll call you a taxi… just promise me you’ll get your sisters to take you to a hospital right away.”

“Sei—”

“Ryōta,” he crossed his arms, mismatched eyes narrowing in warning.

The blonde hummed, probably catching the underlying warning. “Promise, Captain.”

“Good,” he muttered, rubbing his face, as he patted the blonde on the shoulder and turned away. The coach sent the Kings and Chihiro on their way. The four starters looked back at them with confusion and concern, before leaving him with his brother and coach.

Akashi sighed, stepping up to the man. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience…”

Shirogane shook his head, glancing at the quiet blonde. “That is fine. But… Kaijō is not even in this prefecture…”

“Ryōta has been a model for years. Probably his work brought him to the city.”

The man nodded. “I see. And the state he’s in…? You seem to know…”

Akashi frowned. “Nothing is what it seems, kantoku. Basketball prodigies or successful models…” he glanced at the blonde again, eyes darkening. “Not all that glitters is gold,” he murmured hauntedly.

Let the coach wonder what happened — the man didn’t need to know. It was enough, that Akashi knew what happened. He knew that Teikō had found Ryōta. And if they found him, the rest of them would follow soon enough…

Chapter Text

No. 11 - JUST KEEP SWIMMING

adrift | drowning | dehydration

Just the idea of training camp made Aomine nauseous. (Teikō’s training was torture instead… and it still left him shaken. They had left the establishment behind months ago, yet the memories were as fresh, as if it had happened yesterday.)

Still, he hadn’t protested much against the idea, because Seirin would also be there, which meant he could see Tetsu. Seeing Tetsu always brightened his day. Besides, their teams having a joint training camp, was a good excuse for him and Satsuki to see the Shadow, in case Teikō was snooping around. (They never knew when they were being watched, so they did not dare to meet. They’d pretended to hate each other, so when Teikō had torn the team apart, dropping them each in a different school… well, it was easier. Teikō had used any weakness they had, even used them against each other. So with the alumni thinking they loathed each other so much they could not even be around one another, they were protecting themselves.)

But with this training camp… there was a chance for them to meet and if they were lucky, the place would have no connections to their so-called school. Which meant, that they could at least enjoy these few days. That was all, that Aomine wanted — a few carefree days.

A few days to try and remember what it meant to be human, what it meant to be a teenager. (Because after three years behind those accursed glass doors, he wasn’t sure he remembered such things.)

So, he ignored the odd looks he got from Tōō, as they got onto their bus, to meet up with Seirin. Tōō would never understand, after all.

When they arrived at the campsite and Aomine noticed his light-haired Shadow with a stack of notes — whatever those were, — in hand, the usual question slipped past his lips instead of any form of greeting.

“Are you handling the training again?” he asked, prompting the pass-specialist to look up.

(At the idea of Tetsu handling their training for the time being, he was both happy and scared. Tetsu took everything into consideration, much like Sei, so the best results were guaranteed. Yet the idea of the Shadow designing his schedule again also made him shiver in dread. Sei and Tetsu could work them to the bone, after all.) [The thing, that Sei and Tetsu working them to the bone was better, than the  ‘coaches’ doing it, always remained unsaid.]

“I wouldn’t say...”

“Handling the training?” several people asked at once, their eyes slipping between the two players. Aomine noticed the confusion on their faces. (Tōō not knowing was one thing — he didn’t blabble around about their time in Middle School and neither did Satsuki. But Seirin looking completely incomprehensive of the question, as if he’d spoken it in a language they did not understand, was a surprise.)

Aomine gave Seirin an unmistakable are-you-total-idiots-from-a-different-universe look. “Yes? Because that’s what Tetsu always does?”

“Why would he?” asked Seirin’s Captain — Aomine didn’t bother remembering the guy’s name. The only slightly interesting player on the team, other than Tetsu, was Kagami.

The Ace of the Kiseki no Sedai scoffed. “Because Tetsu was our Captain’s protégé? And helped him do things like these? And because Tetsu was the freaking Captain of the second team?”

Stunned silence followed. “Second team?” Imayoshi echoed as he readjusted his glasses. This time it was Tetsu who answered, looking up from the notes once more.

“Teikō’s Club had over one hundred members — you expect only one team to compete? No. We were the First String, yes, the best. But the First String only considered of fifteen players — the rest were Second or Third.”

Aomine watched with a spark of malicious satisfaction as understanding settled on everyone’s faces — even his coach seemed taken aback by the information.

“And out of those fifteen,” Aomine smirked, “Only six were ever remembered.”

“Five,” Tetsu corrected automatically.

Aomine scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, dark blue eyes narrowed on his Shadow. (Because Tetsu was his brother and so, his Shadow. Kagami would never even get close to being a real partner to him.) “You’re a Phantom, not a fucking ghost! If we consider the fact, that you played all three years and Kise only joined in Second, you had more stage time, than him.”

“I agree with Dai,” Momoi chimed in with an innocent smile on her face. Kuroko threw her an unimpressed stare, which the pink-haired manager expertly brushed off.

“Besides,” Aomine grunted again. “You were Akashi’s right-hand and the freaking Captain of the lower string team. You, Akashi and Midorima were always the ones to handle training schedules.”

Even more gasps and wide-eyes. Kuroko’s light blue gaze settled on the Ace. “Your point, Daiki?”

Aomine rolled his eyes. “Are you the one who handles the schedules?”

“Not really…” Kuroko’s eyes narrowed and Aomine took a step back. He knew that look. It never ended well… “But if you insist so much, Daiki…” The Ace gulped — oh shit. Tetsu was pissed he had told Seirin about his spot on the Club. “… you can start your Third-Year menu right now, unless of course… you want me to call Akashi-kun…”

Aomine squawked at that. “Don’t…  Just don’t call him!” he said. He unceremoniously dropped his duffle bag in his childhood friend’s hands and took off.

Seirin and Tōō watched wide-eyed and gaping as the proud Ace literally hightailed it out of the Phantom’s reach. Momoi gave a rather un-ladylike snort, as she shifted Aomine’s bag in her grip. “Well, at least we know your threats work as well as they always did. Sure, you not want to come to Tōō? We’d actually see him during practice.”

Kuroko sighed, dropping the notes in Aida’s hands, who was still looking at him in bewilderment. “We both know why he keeps skipping practice. My presence wouldn’t change his general attitude.”

Momoi sighed, nodding in resignation. “Well, at least he’ll take training seriously with you around.”

Tetsu could, if he put his mind to it, be a slave-driver in his own right. Not as tough as Sei, but he certainly deserved his spot, as a secondary Captain of Teikō.

But now that the training camp was over, everything was calmer — today they had a chance to relax and they would travel back at late afternoon and resume their normal lives starting on Monday. But right now, they still had a few hours just for relaxation.

There was a big lake next to their appartments, so both teams had decided to come down here and enjoy the good weather. Aomine was swimming in the lake, enjoying the cool water in the heat. The others were either fooling around or sunbathing on the bank —like his coach, Satsuki and Tetsu.

Well, actually Tetsu was  sunbathing from the edge of the lake, feet in the water. The Shadow despised water. From what he knew a nasty incident during his childhood led to him never even attempting to learn how to swim. Still, he was by the lake’s edge and that was closer to a big body of water than Aomine had ever seen him, so that was a win. Plus, his little brother seemed to enjoy himself as much, as Aomine was.

(For a little while, here and now, they could pretend they were normal teens and not monsters, wearing humans skin.)

Aomine flipped in the water and closed his eyes, deciding to float a little — they’d been doing training all this time, so a little relaxation couldn’t hurt, plus he was far away enough from the rest, that the tiny marks left by the needes Teikō had poked him with were not visible.

For a while — he didn’t know how long, — he just floated on the water and enjoyed the peace, trying to banish Wakamatsu and Kagami’s voices. (Didn’t those two know how valuable quiet could be, from time to time?)

His peacefulness however, was disrupted by his sister’s shrill cry. “TETSU!”

That alone, was enough to make Aomine’s heart skip a beat. He pushed himself down, submerging in water once more, as he looked towards his sister. “Satsuki what…!?” he called loudly.

“IN THE WATER!” she screamed and that was enough for the Power Forward. He understood what she meant — the fear and desperation in her tone were palpable, even with distance between them.

Aomine cursed in his mind —for a moment, his own blood felt like ice in his veins, as understanding surged through his very being, — and then took a deep breath, diving underwater. Drowning… what a horrible thing. They’d survived Teikō only for Tetsu to drown…

A dark part of his mind knew that it would be the biggest spectacle of the sports circuit.

PHANTOM SIXTH OF THE KISEKI DROWNS

That was surely a sensational way of death. One that would certainly make sure, that the Sixth Man would never be considered just a fancy rumour, to scare others. It would prove, that a Phantom had truly played alongside them.

Aomine shoved the thought aside, unwilling to entertain the idea of losing his most precious sibling, his Shadow.

The pressure of the water around him was not comfortable at all and it was hard to see — the water stung his eyes and he had to blink several times, to even try looking for his partner. Being submerged in real water was nothing like when he was submerged in the waters of the Zone…

Aomine’s eyes widened. Could… could he possibly reach to Tetsu through The Zone? To help him find the other? The younger had never activated the ability, but Aomine knew that The Zone was not the result of Teikō’s probing. It was a place, that existed, yet it did not — something that was real, yet was not. Something… mystical. (Could he call it that? Was it that? He had never figured out what exactly The Zone was, but it wasn’t simply an altered mental state, while playing, he knew that much.)

That place was as real as it could be — all the drugs had done was heighten their abilities, thus making it easier for them to reach that place, whatever it was.

But he had no time. Or did he…?

Something flashed in the corner of his vision and Aomine propelled himself in that direction. Something deep within him sparked to life… it was a feeling. Something… something unnaturally natural. Like when he played in sync with Tetsu.

He noticed the Shadow beneath him and he kicked at the water, swimming further and reached out. After what seemed to be an eternity, his fingers finally clasped around the other’s wrist. When he could feel the weight of the smaller teen, he kicked himself upwards. His lungs were already starting to burn with the need for oxygen. He could see the sunlight glinting trough the water and he tried his best to bring his little brother closer to himself.

He broke the water’s surface and the first thing he did was draw the Shadow closer to himself, to make sure his head was out of the water. He held the younger close to himself, trying to ignore the feel of Tetsu’s scarred skin. The memory of that scar on the younger’s back would forever haunt them all. He shifted his grip squeezing the other a little to force the water out.

Their teams looked shocked and terrified — the first ones to move were the two Captains and Kagami, but Aomine glared at them, snaking his arm protectively around the shorter, as he padded towards the shore.

He made it out just barely and immediately laid the other down, starting CPR. (Thank Shin for teaching them all how to do it. Who knew they would once benefit from that? Perhaps that was the only thing Midorima Shinya had ever done — personally giving his son First Aid lessons, when he had been younger.) After it had become obvious they could count only on themselves and each other to survive, Shin had explained in painstaking detail how such things were done.

Momoi Satsuki watched with wide eyes, as her brother (in all, but blood) tried his best to help their drowned friend. She bit her lower lip, counting quietly as Dai did the chest compressions. Everyone was panicked and their coach was dialling medics, she was sure. But that didn’t matter — the only thing that mattered that Tetsu should breath…

There was a sharp, wet cough and she saw her childhood friend tower over the Shadow still, but his stance was less rigid. There was a shuddering intake of breath, followed by more coughing and Momoi relaxed.

Tetsu would be okay. (She hoped.)

Aomine breathed a sigh of relief, as he saw his brother cough up the water he’d swallowed. He looked miserable and scared, but he would live.

“Tetsu?”

“ ’iki…”

“Shush…” he said, gently bringing the other into his arms. Tetsu was shivering and pale, clinging to him for dear life. As he brought the younger close, he heard a gasp.

“What is that?” Susa choked, pointing to Tetsu’s back. (He knew Susa meant the massive scar —the scar, that would forever mar Tetsu. The one, that made sure no one, who had survived Teikō would ever forget, what that place had truly been like. Carved into Tetsu’s back after all with nasty, jagged lines, was the number, which had identified him — #015. After all, for the monsters in white, they had not even been human…)

Aomine snarled at the older. “Quiet!”

He turned to look at his sister, but the pink-haired female already had her back to him. Aomine saw her grab his towel and brought it over. He draped it over the Phantom taking care to cover his back. (Most were pale and terrified anyway, just from seeing him almost drown and more, than Aomine would have been comfortable with, had also seen the scar, their coaches included.)

He wrapped his arms protectively around the younger, snarling at each and every person present, as he lifted the shivering, half-panicked Shadow. “I do not know which of you had dragged him into the water, when he had made it clear he despises it…” his eyes narrowed, glinting with anger and protectiveness, painting his visage dark, almost like a rabid animal. “But I will find out and I will break every single bone you have and take your very will to live.”

He turned away and marched towards his room — Tetsu would stay with him for the rest of the day, no matter what anyone had to say.

Chapter Text

No. 12 - IT’LL BE FUN, THEY SAID

torture | made to watch | begging

         +

No. 22 - THEY MADE ME DO IT

cursed | demon | obsession

Seven students sneaked down the shaded stairs, towards the building’s basement. Teikō was Japan’s oldest and most prestigious magical school — the building a massive, ancient castle, it’s very foundations woven with the strongest of spells.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Midorima asked, as he followed his friends, Momoi and Aomine both displaying their respective talents. The pink-haired girl had a sizable flame in her hand, to chase away the chill, that descended upon the castle’s lower levels with the arrival of night.

In the front of the group, Aomine — a Master of Light magic, — sustained a white orb with ease, providing them light, so neither of them would lose their footing on the slippery, jagged stone steps.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Shin!” Aomine said, glancing at the green-haired warlock. “It’s just some fun. Heard that others had sneaked around at night, too.”

“Besides,” Akashi cut in, glancing behind him at the taller teen, “don’t tell me you don’t find it overly suspicious, that they told us to avoid this part, when supposedly, the whole building is meant to be the school. Time to find out, what they’re hiding down here.”

“And it’s fun too!” Kise called with and excited voice, bouncing behind Midorima.

“Ne, Ryō-chin if you keep bouncing like that, you’ll lose your footing and fall down the stairs into the darkness.”

The blonde shook his head. “Not gonna happen Atsucchi! My steps are as light and quick as wind. I know what I’m doing!”

Momoi glanced behind her to see two of her friends/brothers behind her, while three were ahead of her. But... “Ne... where’s Tetsu?”

For a moment, Aomine flatered, causing Akashi to bump into him. The redhead rolled his eyes at the taller teen. “Continue Daiki. Tetsuya’s already down by the foot of the stairs waiting for us. I can sense him.”

Aomine huffed and without a word, did as his Captain asked. “Neh, so unfair Tet-chin can do that,” Murasakibara muttered. “He always travels the fastest.”

“This place is full of shadows, Atsushi, even with Daiki and Satsuki using their magic — in fact, that might just strengthen the presence of shadows and you know it’s Tetsuya’s element. Therefore, it is logical that he uses his abilites to remain hidden and travel quickly, just as he hides himself on the court in plain sight with a simple glamour, when he links his magic to Daiki’s.”

Murasakibara hummed and Kise muttered something about unfairness, because ‘Tetsucchi’s powers were so useful’.

After a few more minutes, they finally reached the bottom of the stairs and found massive bronze double doors staring back at them— the doors framed by massive red torii, that had golden symbols carved into them and they shimmered slightly, as the light fell on each.

“Hm... it’s certainly too fancy for a basement door,” Midorima muttered, readjusting his glasses.

“And the runes are magical,” Akashi said, eyes narrowed. “For some reason, I cannot identify the kind of magic in which they are rooted… but they are powerful.”

“They’re ancient protection spells and the reason you cannot decide which element, is because all seven are present,” Kuroko answered in a low voice, literally melting out of the shadows next to Momoi and Aomine, causing both to startle.

“Oii, Tetsu stop trying to give me a heart attack, for Amaterasu’s sake!”

The Phantom Sixth of the (in)famous Kiseki no Sedai gave his primary partner an unimpressed look. “I was not trying to do anything of that sort and as you are my Light, one would think you use our bond to sense me. And do not tell me that you are not Seijūrō, because it won’t work. Seijūrō senses everyone as he is tethered to the very Spirit World, allowing him to see the world a bit differently, then even you and me. But the powers and Bond we have, should allow you to sense me just as well, as Sei.”

Aomine huffed and sighed. “Sorry…”

Akashi gave Aomine an equally unimpressed look, as the Phantom and then the redhead turned to their shortest member. “May I ask how you know that, Tetsuya? Even I know only legends of such torii gates, as the one right here and those do not mention any link to all Primordial Elements, only the Spirit World.”

“There’s a chamber here, accessible through Shadow Magic,” the blue-eyed boy said with a shrug. “There’s a rather detailed document as to how to get in there, combining the six elements.”

“Does that document say what’s inside?” Midorima asked.

Kuroko shook his head. “Some sort of… treasure, if my understanding is correct. It had not been specified.”

The seven students shared a few looks. “Treasure? Why would they hide treasure behind magical gates?” Aomine asked.

“So, it wouldn’t be stolen, Ahominecchi. You’re surely not the brightest one…” Kise muttered.

Aomine’s dark blue eyes sparked white for a second, as he glared at the blonde. “What did you just call me, Airhead?!”

“Ryōta, Daiki, enough,” Akashi commanded sternly. While he didn’t raise his voice — he never did, — the command was immediately obeyed. No one who had just a little bit of common sense, disobeyed the orders of the redhead. Akashi could be violent, even just in simple ningen ways — but as a master of the Spirit element, he could do unspeakable things to others and that often frightened his teammates into obedience, even though he had never once used his power against the six before, outside of the agreed training times.

Once the two hot-blooded boys calmed down, Akashi turned towards their Phantom. “Do you know how to get inside, Tetsuya? If we’d come so far, I’d like to see what they’d sealed inside there.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Sei-chin?”

The redhead glanced at the snack lover. “We won’t be taking anything from the room — just looking around. That couldn’t possibly hurt.”

The others seemed thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. Akashi glanced at their Master of Shadows and the blue haired boy’s passive expression was broken for a moment, as his lips curled upwards into a satisfied smile. “I do, actually know, how to get inside,” he confirmed, wriggling his fingers, letting his magic flow out.

The shadows around him moved, like silk in the wind and he stepped ahead, speaking softly, directing his friends into the right spots in front of the massive gate, so they could open it.

Just as Akashi said, they looked around the massive room — full of magical items and scriptures, — without touching anything.

Or at least, that had been the plan, until Aomine spotted a pair of gems on a raised dias — one looked as if liquified sunight had been trapped inside it, while the other seemed to have the very essence of the night sky.

“Hey guys look, these here are pretty fancy,” Aomine called, howeing above the gemstones, eyes studying them with interest.

“Careful with those, Dai,” Kuroko called quietly, stepping next to his partner. “We don’t know what they could possibly do. Remember what Nijimura-senpai said? We should never meddle with magic we know nothing about.”

Aomine hummed. “I’m not gonna touch them, Tetsu. I just said they are fancy and probably worth a fortune.”

“Yes, most likely...”

Their exchange was cut off by a panicked cry. “Atsucchi watch...!”

The duo turned towards the voice only to notice that their purple-haired friend stumbled over something, while trying to save his snacks and that sent a huge stack of books tumbling down. Right towards them.

Aomnie and Kuroko both jumped out of the way with various curse words on their lips, as the dusty tomes clattered loudly aroud them. Coughing, the two friends waved their hands around to get rid of the swirling dust, only to notice the gems gone from their spots. For a moment, panic settled on their features — gods knew what those were and usually, whatever they were... it never meant good, if they were broken.

The two of them looked around frantically and then noticed both falling down... far from their original spot. On instinct, they leapt after the gems, catching them and preventing them being broken. They landed roughly on the old stone floor, gems craddled protectively.

Aomine and Kuroko shared a relieved glance... until both artifacts lit up with an eerie glow.

Midorima knew something was wrong the moment he saw Aomine and Kuroko jump from their spots. Not wasting any time, he hurried over, only to falter as he watched the books tumble down, his friends barely getting out of the way.

“Oh... oh...” Momoi muttered, and Midorima followed her gaze. The magical gems — whatever they were, were in the air…

“Don’t let them break!” Kise called in alarm, though Midorima wasn’t sure the blue-haired dou heard him. Luckily, they both reacted fast —huh, all that basketball training was indeed useful, — and leapt after the artefacts. And caught them, as they would have caught a basketball.

Yes, basketball training was indeed useful.

But the problem started, when the gems started to glow. Both his friends reacted fast, dropping them to the ground, causing a soft sound to echo in the dreadful silence… but it didn’t matter.

Magic poured out of the gems, surrounding both and the light slowly formed patterns around them, and even seemed to settle on their skin.

Midorima watched with dread, rooted to the spot. A magical circle appeared around his friends different in colour — one was gold-white and the other black-blue. Tendrils of magic wrapped around their bodies and he could do nothing, but stare in horror.

The first thing they felt was the immense power of the gems — it was as if fire was being poured into their veins. Their own magic fought the invading curse, but that just made things worse, made the flames in their blood hungrier.

Aomnie and Kuroko looked at each other in fear and then a moment later, the screams tore from their throats. It was like they were being burned alive and then hundreds and hundreds of needles pierced their skin.

They could barely breath trough the pain and minutes later, they were silent, unable to even scream.

Akashi watched helplessly as the magic whirling around his friends, sunk into their very being. They screamed then… and after several minutes of screams, they fell silent as the magic shed their skin, as one peeled a fruit. His stomach shifted in terror.

“Dai! Tetsu!” Momoi called in terror, lunging forward to help them, but Akashi grabbed her, just as Midorima grabbed Kise.

“We have to help them!” Kise called.

“We can’t,” Akashi said, watching helplessly. “They’re lying in Binding Circles. If we break the circle, we’re releasing all the magic into the world. Only the kami know what’s in those gems.”

“But it hurts them!” Murasakibara growled.

“And it will be even worse, if we break the Circles!” Akashi spat back helplessly.

Their arguments were cut off, as they heard a sickening crunch. Akash’s eyes landed on the writhing duo and he realised in horror, that whatever the magic was, it was breaking their bones…. bending their bodies in an unnatural way.

Meanwhile, Aomine and Kuroko could do nothing but try enduring the pain, as one by one, their bones broke, each snap echoing in their ears, sending burning pain trough them each time. They would have thought that magic would dull the pain, but it seemed to be the other way around, for it amplified the pain they were feeling.

And whatever the curse was, it was not allowing them to lose consciousness either. The bones snapped one by one, slowly rearranging themselves, bending their bodies unnaturally. Aomine could feel as his wrist curled inside and something sharp broke trough the skin, as if someone stabbed him with a dagger from inside his own fingers.

Next to him, Tetsu was in no better shape, curling in on himself as their muscles were pulled into knots and then stretched until each one was torn apart.

It was a sort of pain he’d never felt before, torture from the deepest, darkest pits of the nothingness of the universe. His lungs squeezed, as if someone grabbed them with an iron grip and for a moment, even breathing was impossible.

Each crunch of bone and snap of muscle made Kise cringe in pain — it was not him, who was going through that torture, whatever it was… but watching it was bad enough. Then, after what seemed to be an eternity, the sickening sounds ceased and the light faded. The symbols of the Binding Circle were still on the floor, but black as sooth, but there was an odd force field surrounding it.

With no screams and snapping bones, deathly silence fell and that was perhaps worse…

“Dai-chin? Tet-chin?” Murasakibara called, tone a mix of worry and fear.

There was shifting from the other side of the force field and some agonised growls and whines…

They staggered closer, almost afraid to see what had become of their friends…

Only to see two massive beasts, once the last remnants of magic were gone — one was a majestic lion with pelt and mane as white as freshly fallen snow, smeared with the red of blood from the floor in which it was standing. Its eyes were dark blue, like the sea in a storm.

The other beast was also something of a cat, with fur as dark as the darkest of nights with shocks of white stripes all around and a long, bushy tail. This feline’s gaze was bright, like the spring sky.

The lion was as big as a pony, the black one — what sort of cat was it? — was slightly smaller, though looked no less dangerous.

Their friends. Daicchi and Tetsucchi had been turned into… animals, trough magic. A sort of magic, that was torture to endure, if the sounds before were any indication… and even now, he could see immeasurable amount of pain marring the feline features of both.

“Daiki? Tetsuya?” Akashi called, taking a cautious step towards them. Both beasts looked at the redhead with understanding, their gazes full of pain…

… and then, as they tried walking closer, both collapsed.

Kise could not help the terrified cry, that left his lips.

Chapter Text

No. 13 - THAT’S GONNA LEAVE A MARK

“This is gonna suck” | burns | cauterization

They both trashed against the men holding them — why wouldn’t they? Teikō was no place for children, for despite appearances, it was not a simple school. Behind closed gates, it held a much darker secret…

“You won’t escape again,” the man holding him snarled. Midorima tried to escape, but it was no use. He wasn’t the only one, who was being dragged to kami knew where within the building. Akashi was there too, his bi-coloured eyes reflecting unquenchable thirst for blood.

After months here — or was it more than a year now? time was blurring together, as they tried to survive — they tried to escape. And they had tried getting the others out too. They were all in the same boat, after all. There was little difference between them — all of the Basketball Club members were victims. But they had been caught, even before they had reached the agreed meeting spot. Aomine, Momoi and Kuroko had been found as well — though only himself and Akashi were being dragged away, since they had admitted to coming up with the idea. (In all honesty... all of them had toyed with the idea, ever since they realised what this place was like.) Yet Akashi, as the Captain, had taken the blame.

And now… they were being dragged trough winding corridors with no idea where the rest of their teammates were or what was awaiting them.

The woman walking in front of them stopped before a door and opened it with a card. The locking panel lit up with green light and the door clicked open. Akashi tried twisting his hands out, only to get a kick to the back of his knees. Midorima watched with helpless hateful rage as his friend fell with a hiss, but before he could hit the cold floor, the man yanked him up by his arms roughly — which were of course, bound.

The room was sterile white as so many others in the damn building — however, one thing Midorima found rather out of place. An old, stylish hearth with massive flames crackling in it. The sight of the dancing orange tongues was almost calming, almost hypnotic. He would have even appreciated the sight, if not for the situation they were in. His instincts to escape went haywire and he yanked his arm roughly. The man’s hold on him got even stronger, as his hand was twisted backwards even more. He growled in pain, as the man forced him to look towards the hearth.

“Do not dare turning away, you little monster or you’ll both get much worse.”

Midorima shivered at the words, as he watched the woman peel off Akashi’s training shirt. The redhead tried escaping again, but the man held firm. His Captain’s hands were twisted backwards and the man bent above him, so his elbow closed around his throat.

Akashi froze and Midorima’s eyes widened with fear — a wrong move and the bastard would choke Akashi. The woman turned away to look at something and the man holding the redhead grimaced. “is it ready?”

“Give it some time,” the woman rolled her eyes — a chilling shade of grey, which reminded Midorima of his nightmares.

A few minutes passed in tense silence.

Then the woman picked up something long and dark. Akashi’s eyes widened and he made a soft, startled sound, trying once more to esacpe. Midorima’s own body filled with despair, when he realised what it was — branding iron, bearing the sigil of Teikō.

He snarled again, twisting his hand in the man’s strong grip. “You’re not going anywhere, Sniper,” the one behind him intoned coldly, a strong blow resounding in his bones, as the man whacked him across the head. Slightly dizzy… Midorima looked up.

“Run,” he hissed trough the daze, but it was too late. The man’s hold on Akashi got stronger and Midorima watched with utter horror, as the woman pressed the red-hot iron into the back of the redhead’s shoulder.

Akashi screamed and Midorima could only watch helplessly.

This was the price of their bid for freedom. The strongest of them screaming in pain, branded like an animal.

Even as the woman took the metal away a few moments later, Akashi screamed and Midorima watched the red skin, which now bore the institute’s sigil. The brand was louder, than any words.

Propriety of Teikō Laboratory.

(That would forever scar, the back of his mind whispered, but he did not pay attention. His mind was filled with rrage and grief for one of his own. Filled with rage, grief and desire for revenge, stronger than ever before.) Midorima wished to be free, so he could shove one of these bastards into the burning flames face-first. They would deserve to scream the way his brother did.

Chapter Text

No. 16 - ON A NEED TO KNOW BASIS

recovery | scars | aftermath

Momoi knew that starting training so soon after they graduated escaped from Teikō was not a good idea. (But what else could they do? It’s not like she could go to their new coach and tell him she wanted Dai out of practice and matches because of Teikō’s previous inhuman treatment. [Understatement of the century.] There would be questions — questions none of the seven would answer, for Teikō still loomed over their heads and a toe out of line could cost their lives. They were away from Teikō, but none of them were fools enough to believe they were free.)

She’d heard from Tetsu, that the last testing Teikō had ran after the Kiseki — oh, how funny that moniker was, where there was nothing miraculous in her siblings! — won their last Nationals had been considered a failure.

The damnable bastards in white considered her brothers a failure — both Dai and Testu. (Those monsters set impossible expectations and when her brothers did not complete the exercises, they were called failures.) And they had paid the price for it.

Dai’s injuries were still not healed and she watched, anxious day and night if someone would notice. During classes under the fine garments of their uniforms, it was easier to hide. But during training, when Dai had to do the exercises, it was much harder. Back at Teikō, whenever they showed pain, it did not matter, as long as the exercises were completed. Here, she was sure, if Dai showed his pain, that would draw attention.

Attention they did not need.

She shook her head, returning her eyes to the court, where the two teams — consisting of mixed members and not just Tōō’s regulars, — faced each other. Dai’s dark blue gaze was fixated on the court and he kept scoring, passing the shocked defenders with the speed of a panther. (The thought left a nauseating aftertaste in her mouth, as she remembered the codename her childhood friend bore behind the cold, white walls.)

She watched her friend jump to score, but Wakamatsu also leapt into the air to block him, unwilling to let another point go in — not that it would save them from losing, Dai was of Teikō and so was she (before the practice game, they’d gone over various forms and strategies and Dai had at least three half-cooked strategies under his belt, if sheer, overwhelming skill were not enough). [Practice match or not, they stood Ever-victorious, for victory equaled survival.]

The blonde caught the ball, trying to block, yet Dai still had the momentum and —of course — had enough strength to overpower the blonde. (After all, only Atsu was stronger than him, not that that was a surprise.)

But Wakamatsu fought valiantly... and she saw as her brother fell. The ball danced on the rim and went in just as Dai landed roughly. His feet skidded a little on the polished floor, but not even his animal instincts were enough to prevent the rough landing.

On his back.

Her eyes went wide with horror, as he hit the ground with a sharp cry. “Daiki!” she called in panic, dropping her clipboard and ignoring everyone, as she sprinted to him.

The others around them froze, looking confused and shocked as she skidded to a halt next to him. Dai’s face was contorted in an ugly grimace of pain and he whined, curling into a ball, trying to shift from his back, to alleviate the pain.

She crouched down and grabbed him firmly, yet gently. “Dai. Nī-san,” she called sharply, gaining his attention.

He did not seem to be completely there with her — his dark eyes were obscured by pain and the feeling itself probably threw him a few weeks into the past, when he had received the punishment. She released a string of words under her breath, that would have made a sailor blush, cursing their so-called school.

He looked at her, trying to blink trough his pain. “T-Tsuki…?”

“Shush, come on, stand up,” she nudged, trying to help him. “Carefully.”

He cried out again, as she forced him to shift positions, aggravating his back once more. She glanced at his back, as she tried to help him down from the court, the team watching in shock and not understanding a thing.

She helped him to the edge of the court, but before they reached the bench, he just shook his head and sat down where they were. She did not waste time, as she grabbed a pair of small scissors from the inner pocket of her green sweater. She knew that trying to get him to discard his shirt the usual way would just end up in protests and unnecessary pain.

She cut —or more like tore — at the fabric, that was sticking to Aomine’s back with sweat and blood.

“What is…”

“Shut up,” Dai ground out, glaring at Wakamatsu. “I would have been perfectly okay, if you did not push your luck. Besides, the point went in anyway, so why do you even try?” his eyes glinted maliciously. “I’m capable of single-handedly crushing teams and I’ll pay you back in kind, once I can stand up…!”

“Daiki,” Momoi admonished lightly. “That’s the pain speaking. Breathe.”

Luckily, her friend took her advice and turned away from their Vice-Captain, as she pocketed the scissors again. “I’ll take it…”

“Tear it off, Satsuki,” he grunted.

She frowned in concern, but grabbed the dark fabric and tore it away from his skin. He hissed in pain and shook down the shirt, once it was off his back. He discarded the torn, bloodied fabric with a grunt. “Damn it, yet another.”

The members of Tōō gasped and choked at the sight.

“What in the…”

“Bloody Hell…”

“Oh God!”

Momoi ignored them all, as she looked at the nasty, half-healed whip marks running down the Ace’s back from shoulder blades till the hips. Long, slender lines criss-crossed over his back, so numerous that there was little if any, unmarked skin. And the scars on the top — the freshest ones — were rough red and bleeding.

“Aomine what is the meaning of…”

Aomine snarled like a beast, eyes narrowing on the coach. “Don’t ask.”

“Dai… I’ll have to clean…”

“Don’t be gentle,” Aomine said, tone dead. He’d gotten worse than this before. Momoi eyed him for a moment and then turned around to grab the bag in which the Power Forward kept his training gear. She fished out a first aid kit and started working.

He had been subjected to pain of all kinds over the three years, yet  his body still shook and he still hissed, as the cotton pads, wet with alcohol hit the scars. Momoi paused and Aomine  blinked taking a deep breath.

“Do not stop, Satsuki. If you wait too long, I won’t be able to stand it and we both know what an improperly cleaned one does...”

His sister swallowed hard behind him and pressed the cotton to his back again. “Gomen.”

Aomine could feel the confused and horrified eyes of Tōō on them, as his sister cleaned the long lash marks one by one. The sting made his vision burl and the smell of alcohol was revolting —good thing he hadn’t eaten before training, or he might have thrown up already. He could feel the acid in his throat.

He gritted his teeth, sitting patiently until she was done. “You want me to wrap them?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t be able to breathe and I hate that,” he muttered.

“But something has to be…” she pointed out, “… or it’s going to bleed through. What will you tell Oba-san, why in the name of kami is your uniform bloody all over?”

Aomine grunted. “Fuck it. Fine, do it.”

Momoi grabbed the bandages and Aomine carefully shifted around a little, to give her better access, as she did her best to cover the long marks. He noted grimly, that she worked fast — she’d learned a lot about treating wounds in Teikō. They all had.

If they hadn’t… they may not have even made it through. (Aomine could recall at least one kid from the Second String, who ended up dead due to infection. The infection did something with the drugs in his system, which eventually caused his death. All he had heard about the kid, was that he had not been ‘strong enough’. The white-wearing fuckers did not seem to know or care, that the guy had died because of their cruelty and carelessness.)

Once she was done Aomine stood up, taking another shirt from his bag and pulling it over his head wilst grunting and wincing. The less those scars were seen, the better.

He knew Tōō wanted to ask questions, but for now, his previous outburst kept them quiet. For how long, was a different question. He threw a grateful look at his sister.

“Thanks, Imōto,” he muttered under his breath.

She gave him a worried, shaky smile and scooted up to him, in a way hugging him without touching. Aomine draped an arm around her.

As long as he had Satsuki, he’d pull trough. (The pain would not fade for weeks to come and more than once, the wounds would reopen, even after the coach forbade him from training… but each and every time, his sister would be there, to help him.)

They would survive.

Chapter Text

No. 19 - JUST A SCRATCH

bitten | bleeding | stabbing

Midorima’s breath hitched, as pain jolted trough his entire body. How had he ended up in such an Oha Asa-forsaken situation?

He paused for a moment, leaning against the building’s wall. With every breath he took and every beat of his heart, he could feel the wound under his hand pulsing, more blood leaving his body. Luckily, his school uniform was black, so all the blood on it was not visible. Therefore, he had managed to avoid most people’s concerned questions and make his way through the city.

His vision blurred despite wearing his glasses and the Shooting Guard cursed in his mind.

After what happened to Kise (Akashi had informed them of course, and warned them to be careful), he should have expected something like this. Yet, knowing that his father had a hand in sponsoring Teikō, he naively believed, that he would be spared the rough treatment (read: attempted kidnapping) Kise had faced.

How foolish of him.

Teikō had found him — why wouldn’t they have? Even if they had tried to hide, the damn bastards had agents everywhere and Midorima was literally living under the roof of one. They had tried taking him again and when they realised he would not be taken and would likely try to kill them on the way to the nearest facility, they’d stabbed him and tossed him into an alleyway. They took a blood sample and Midorima heard them mutter something about reporting him dead in the struggle. The rest he could not remember, for the men started retreating then, their voices fading and he had been blinded and deafened from pain.

After he heard the car leave, he stood up and started his excruciating journey trough the alleys and quiet streets, trying to avoid questions, as he made his way towards Seirin. Seirin was the closest to the location where he’d been ambushed and he knew his Phantom brother would do his best to help. Kuroko Tetsuya was one of the most reliable people in his life and whether he was in practice or doing something else, it would not matter.

He drew his hand away from the wound and frowned in displeasure, when he noticed how much red liquid was sticking to his hand and some of it even dripping to the ground, leaving a grotesque, horror-setting-worthy trail on the concrete.

He took a deep breath and ignoring the stab of pain in his side, he started walking again, dead-set on reaching the gym. Kuroko had to be there.

He paused in front of the gym door once more to catch his breath and blink to clear his vision. His lips were getting chapped from the lack of liquid in his body and he could feel the pain spreading from the wound. Good thing it hadn’t reached anything vital — he knew enough anatomy for that and their self-defence had been honed in real enough situations during the past three years. After it had been made clear Teikō would never let them go, they swore that if they had to go down and die, they would go down fighting and — preferably — take a few of the white-wearing bastards to the depths of Yami with them.

He reached for the doorknob, consciously using his clean hand —the trail of blood leading here was alarming enough for anyone, who gave it more than a fleeting glance. A bloody doorknob would certainly earn Seirin a visit from the police and Midorima didn’t want his brother — or his new team, they seemed fine enough — in trouble for his own carelessness.

He practically fell into Seirin’s gym, once the door opened, gaining the attention of those inside. Older students were there and no hair or hide of his youngest brother. “Kuro —” his breath shuddered, as another stab of pain jolted trough him, staling the ground from under his feet. “Tetsuya…”

Somone cried out and feet clattered against wood, but for a moment everything was black and everything spun.

Izuki sighed in relief, when he heard the door open. It seemed that better judgement won, just this once, and despite the argument they’d just gone through, their hot-headed Ace was back. “Ah Kaga—” his words died in his throath, when a familiar green-haired, green-eyed person stumbled into the gym, looking like dead risen from the grave.

Izuki blinked in surprise. “Midorima?” What was Teikō’s ex-Shooting Guard doing here now of all times? (Sure, maybe he was here because of Kuroko… but it was hard to believe. Kuroko was mum about his time at Teikō and even the short words he spoke about the three years were filled with what Izuki could only identify as hate.) Therefore, they all assumed the Miracles split up on very bad circumstances and for the safety of their team — Kuroko’s passes could break fingers or a wrist, that much they’d gathered, since the Phantom played for them, — they did not speak of such things again.

The Miracle staggered. “Kuro—” he trailed off and Izuki moved. Wary and with his Eagle Eye in action, he noticed the red coating the First Year’s hand. Shit, was he injured? “Tetsuya…”

Izuki faltered from sheer shock of hearing his kōhai’s given name spoken in such a manner. From their limited information, it didn’t seem like the Kaijū Kiseki no Sedai were on good enough terms for given names. That seemed oddly intimate for a team who had split up with such scandal in their wake — who hadn’t heard about Meikō Chūgakkō being crushed under the prodigy team’s heel?

He broke into a run as the green-haired teen’s legs gave out. Midorima fell, though luckily Izuki was fast enough to prevent the younger’s head from hitting the ground. His eyes widened, when he noticed the blood, not only on his hand, but soaking the side of his uniform as well.

“Senpai had Kaga—” Kuroko’s voice called from the door. Izuki turned to look at the blue-haired teen, since the Shooting Guard had spoken his name before passing out, presumably from either exhaustion or blood loss — or perhaps both.

“Kuro…” he called, but the Sixth Miracle’s eyes were sharp. Sharper than Izuki though they had the right to be without an ability like the Eagle Eye or Kazunari’s Hawk Eye.

“Shintarō…” the call was soft and haunted. Izuki needed a moment to realise that just like Midorima before passing out, the usually polite and reserved Shadow had also used his ex-teammate’s given name. (Later, when he would not worry about a fellow bleeding student, regardless of which school said student was attending, he would wonder since when did the former teammates use each other’s given names.)

Faster than Izuki had ever seen him move, the pass specialist was by his side, checking the green-haired teen. When their eyes met a moment later, Izuki noted the ice-cold determination in the blue eyes. “Help me get him to the infirmary.”

It was not a polite request, but a hard, cold order, the sort Izuki knew better, then to disobey. Something in the tone told him, that disobeying was not an option (not that he would let another player bleed to death on the gym floor, but still).

He nodded numbly and helped Kuroko pick the unconscious player up from the floor. Hyūga appeared a few moments later and took over for Kuroko and they took the bleeding sharpshooter to their infirmary room.

Kuroko opened the door and made a wordless gesture at one of the beds. Izuki watched the Phantom move soundlessly like a true spectre in the room with chilling familiarity and determination.

He grabbed alcohol, gauze, needle and thread and a little bowl and a small towel. He glanced at them, face still blank, but eyes like the sharpest of blades.

“Please take off his shirt.”

Hyūga spluttered a question, but Izuki just did as he asked. The cold authority radiating from the usually reserved teen was disturbing enough for him to comply.

The moment Kuroko realised what had happened, his instincts — instincts that had helped him survive — kicked in and he asked his senpai to get his green-haired brother to the infirmary.

He gathered the needed equipment, Shin’s old lessons about wound cleaning and closing running trough his head a mile-a-minute. By the time he was sure everything was ready, Izuki and Hyūga took off Shin’s uniform and Kuroko could see the nasty wound. Or at least glimpsed it trough the blood. He placed everything on the chair next to the bed and dipped the cloth into the water to wipe away the blood.

“I’ll get an anbulan…” his Captain started.

Kuroko glared at the Shooting Guard. “You will do no such thing,” he said coolly.

He turned back to his task and once he was sure most of the blood was gone, he cleaned it with alcohol and grabbed the needle.

“What happened?” Izuki asked.

Kuroko pressed his lips into a thin line. He had a very good idea… yet, Seirin needed not to know what Teikō truly had been like. He did not need their false pity. Nor could he deal with their fear, once they realised the six (seven) of them were probably not even properly human anymore.

His hand didn’t shake and didn’t falter, as he grabbed the needle to sew the wound together. It would not be as neat of a work as Shin or Sei’s own. It would probably scar, but Kuroko was sure his brother would not care — the only thing that mattered, was that he would survive.

After he was done — it had taken him longer, then he thought it would, but the wound was closed, — he cleaned the equipment and his hands, which were sticky with his brother’s blood.

“Kuroko?”

He paused and glanced at the Eagle Eyed Point Guard. “Yes?”

“Where have you learned to do this?”

Kuroko hummed, nodding to the unconscious Miracle. “Shintarō’s family has a long history of having medical experts. He knows his fair share as well and taught us a lot of things,” he turned away, scrubbing his hands under the warm water.

The sight of blood — his brother’s blood — made him nauseous.

There was a moment of silence. “What… had happened?”

Kuroko cut off the water and wiped his hands dry in his trousers, not really caring about the possible stains that it may create, if there was still blood somewhere. “I don’t know and the one who could answer, is unconscious,” he stated.

It was only a half-lie — he didn’t know what exactly had happened, however he had a feeling that Teikō had made a move.

“Kuroko…”

The Phantom gave the two of them an icy look. “Please leave now and do not call the authorities. This is personal.”

Shock, fear and disbelief flashed through the two pairs of dark eyes, but then they slowly nodded. They turned to leave and Kuroko sighed, falling into the chair next to his passed-out brother. He carefully took off Shin’s glasses and placed them in his lap, brushing off some hair from his eyes.

“How did you end up like this, brother?” he asked the silent room softly.

Midorima did not answer, but the soft rhythmic breathing brought him some calm. He would get his answers, once the sharpshooter was awake — and Kuroko would be here when he woke.