Chapter Text
When I seek the reason for your imprisonment,
With voice too quiet,
And eyes so sad,
You caressed my profile,
And spoke as though
You believed your own words,
“I killed an Angel”
"I mean, you’re basically asking why someone’s in prison. What did you think the answer would be you doofus??? He stole a balloon??" Midorima remarked harshly with his exaggerated gestures and Akashi almost smiled at that. He did not. He simply let out a breath in which his companion took great offense. What truly amused Akashi, though, was the fact that Midorima didn't seem to be fazed by this new information whereas usual he would have been gaping and demanding Akashi to stop visiting an apparent murderer like some walk down the park. May be he is a little disappointed that Midorima let it slipped so easily, but he would be lying to say he was not pleased that the other angel did not even attempt to stop him. He would not have listened anyway, as per usual. Perhaps Midorima had finally, and begrudgingly, come to terms with this. His point was proven when he heard the clicking of a pair of glasses being pushed up the bridge of his companion's nose, along with a breathy sigh escaped his lips, a sign of giving in. So easy to read, Shintarou, he thought to himself. He did not stop the playful smirk forming on his face this time.
“With that condescending smirk of yours, I'm guessing you've already assessed the situation thoroughly?” Yet again .
“Of course. It was simply courtesy that I spoke with you about it first.”
“You're not going to stop visiting him?”
“Not at all,” said Akashi with an almost innocent smile. Midorima shuddered lightly. Really, why he was even acquainted with this self-imposing emperor at all is beyond anyone's knowledge. Except, most likely, Akashi himself. He likes to keep 'useful companionships' at his disposal. Akashi had remarked this when they first met. Midorima thought back to that particular conversation when they were much younger, even younger than they are now. He adjusted his glasses once more with a heavy sigh. This is really weighing on his youth. And he is very young . They both are at the mere age of nine hundreds years, and with their appearance resembles that of a seven-year old mortal child, their lack in experience is apparent, Akashi included. Even with his cautious nature, he still managed to make Midorima's heart, and basically everyone else's in their little circle, leapt out of his chest more often than not . Seemingly reading his mind yet again, Akashi gave him a thoughtful look.
“Don't dwell on it too much, Shintarou.” I am not. “Oh of course you are. You're an open book.” To you, may be. “Perhaps. But even Daiki has noted it several times, though. Daiki , Shintarou. ” Stop reading my mind. And what Aomine might say is no business of mine. “Stop speaking your thoughts out loud then. And he speaks his mind well. Despite his recklessness, he has a straightforward personality.” Unlike yours, Midorima could almost heard those unspoken words. Almost.
Thus he does what a normal person with a normal functioning brain would do and promptly shot Akashi a look of exasperation, probably some embarrassment too. Akashi silently praised his self control to not laugh in the other's face for their somewhat ridiculousness.
“ I know what I'm doing.”
“That's what a child would say.”
“Am I not one?”
“... You are.”
“Then there you go.”
And that was the end of it. They fell into comfortable silence afterwards, mostly for Akashi, and partially for his companion's sanity, as they continued to stroll down the long extravagant halls of the mansion where Akashi resided, which sat naturally on the Western mountains, spanning across the horizon if one were to observe from down below. He knew Midorima still had a lot of thoughts unspoken. But if he had chosen to stay silent, Akashi simply saw no point in asking for them. They will be sorted out eventually, he was certain of it.
It was not that Akashi was dismissing his friend's (yes, 'friend', as reluctant as Midorima tries to come across) concern. But he was enjoying himself. For that, he was willing to risk coming back, come back to that place so far and so closed off, to see 'him' again.
To see Tetsuya again.
Kuroko Tetsuya. The name rolled off his tongue so natural yet so foreign. He did not know if it was fate, or perhaps it was Midorima's warning not to wander off to peculiar places on that particular day not too long ago, due to the fortune readings he had done just a few moments before Akashi was about to head out. "There is a dark and malevolent energy coming from the North", he remarked, coincidentally (or perhaps not) the very direction Akashi was taking. In response, Akashi though it was appropriate to smile before leaving his precious fortuneteller to call for his name with a desperation he chose to ignore. He was not one to often ignore others, but his freedom and patience was being tested greatly leading up to this event. E ven though he was well aware of his duties and responsibilities as the one who bore the Mark. He only wanted to breathe new air for the rare day off he had had for awhile. It just so happened that the new air he wanted to breathe was 'dark' and 'malevolent' to Midorima. But it just also happened that he was not in the mood to indulge in the practice of fortunetelling at that moment. So North he went, and North was where he found Tetsuya .
Tetsuya , Tetsuya . Quiet and beautiful Tetsuya . Tetsuya who took his breath away as he laid his eyes on the almost ghostly feature for the first time, Tetsuya who had called him 'Seijuurou' with a familiarity of foolish lovers. In those very moments , he, too quickly, silenced the echos of Midorima's words at the back of his mind.
Dark.
Malevolent.
Impossible.
If anything, he would say the gently shaped profile and the way the figure in front of him was wrapped in the soft white and silky fabric of their attire was the exact opposite of those vile words. Tetsuya, gentle Tetsuya, perched silently on the old and tired oak tree, whose branches stretched out and engulfed the small figure resting within its cage of long forgotten youth. His eyes were closed as his too pale and too thin hands caressed a water fairy, listened to its story with a silent delight. Somehow, these images had come all too familiar to his crimson eyes, and with that, Akashi Seijuurou's breath, the Marked boy, the one to rule all infinite land of Heavens, were taken, whipped away by the wind which tucked playfully at the sky blue and silky locks of one Kuroko Tetsuya. The way he collectedly turned towards Akashi with ease and disinterest only made the boy froze even more so on his feet. Seijuurou could only marveled at the those eyes which were as calmed as the flowing river separating them, and bright as the Northern star . Those orbs reflected the never ending blue that stretched the horizon beyond his own abode that Akashi had many time observed with a strange longing that he could not quite place. At that moment, he almost understood. What, he wasn't quite sure. But he knew instinctively that those eyes, those eyes which were so apathetic, yet held such a passion that burnt his skin, were his demise.
May be he should have turned away then, flied off with his yet to mature wings, the ones with feathers so pure and white, even the clouds would be envious, and never once look back again. May be Midorima words held more weight than he had initially expected, and he could have fix his own foolishness by abiding to his soon-to-be advisor and let go of the longing which gnawed at the back of his mind. But, “may be” are only empty words, muttered by the regrets he did not hold, as he stood his ground and refused let himself fall even faster under the enchanted spell he was sure the other did not cast. He didn't even flinch when the words fall from Tetsuya's lips, enveloping Seijuurou's entire being. His ears rang with an alarming screech despite the softness of the sounds carried by the wind.
“Are you lost?”
And Tetsuya paused. Seijuurou half interpreted such silence as an attempt for him to run away right then and there, to salvage what's left of his sanity and forget about Tetsuya forever more. But Akashi Seijuurou was not one to run. Tetsuya smiled then, albeit full of sorrow and regret Seijuurou could not comprehend. His next words sealed their fates in a cruel, never ending downward spiral even Seijuurou couldn't have seen miles away.
“What is your name, little one?”
May be Tetsuya really did kill an angel.
Because Seijuurou fell with nothing left to hold onto, except the pale hands of Tetsuya, and Tetsuya himself.
He barely registered the shadows creeping from behind the frail outline of Tetsuya, nor the weak and trembling wings, those that belong to the race from the world below, those that belong to a demon borne.
Seijuurou stepped forward, and Tetsuya knew it was too late. He didn't even bother stopping the hands of time as they started to tick once more. With the strength he had not used for almost nine hundred and sixty three years, if one were to count (he did), and the smile his beloved from long ago had believed to rival that of an angel's, he welcomed Seijuurou into his open arms.
That wasn't even the beginning of their downfall.