Jokes (their sense of humor and how they cheer other people up)
Given his intelligence and quick wit, Akashi is more of a “straight” man when it comes to comedy or irony really. He can keep a straight face while delivering the most scathing sarcastic observation. Which usually makes everyone except the target of his commentary cheer up. But don’t worry, he gives a mutual amount of it to everyone.
No need to apologize for the amount of characters! We technically don’t have a character limit, but do know that the more you ask for, the more likely the answers will be on the shorter side!
Kuroko: Despite the little bit of color that is on his cheeks, Kuroko seems to be more confident than he’s letting on. It’s almost too easy for him to lean into you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. He didn’t miss; he just didn’t want to give you a full kiss in case you didn’t reciprocate his feelings.
Kagami: But he hasn’t even confessed to you yet! Kagami’s face almost matches his hair with how hard he is blushing and the words coming out of his mouth are garbled up to the point you have no idea if he’s speaking in Japanese, English, or Gibberish. You might not get a kiss if he continues for long.
Kise: It’s hard for Kise to hide the excitement on his face when he notices the mistletoe above the two of you. Trying his best to mask it, he tries to go for smooth and suave as he places a delicate finger under your chin. It’s almost too cheesy the way he tilts your face toward his so he can kiss you.
Kasamatsu: With how red his face is and how silent he was, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kasamatsu had turned into an actual tomato right before your eyes. He’s trying his best not to acknowledge the mistletoe while also glancing at it every two seconds. He definitely can’t be the one to make the first move.
Aomine: This is almost too perfect of a chance. Aomine practically traps you against the door frame, throwing one of his arms above your head as he leans in rather close from the get go. The look in his eyes says he’s hoping to turn a simple peck on the lips into something more.
Imayoshi: Knowing for a fact that you can see the mistletoe above your head, Imayoshi decides to play the role of the oblivious one. What does a mistletoe mean again? The smirk widens on his face as he watches you embarrassingly scramble to explain to him what he already knows.
Midorima: There’s a light dusting of color on his cheeks, but Midorima is mature enough to know he shouldn’t make pebbles into mountains. Despite you being his crush, he almost makes you think this is a business transaction with how formal he’s being, going so far as to ask for permission twice.
Takao: Was this crush of his supposed to be a secret? Because it obviously isn’t with the way Takao gives a little cheer when the two of you get caught under the mistletoe. He’s quick to give you a peck on the cheek and it absolutely makes his heart to somersaults when you pout at not getting anything more.
Murasakibara: The kiss tastes of sugar; of course, that’s because Murasakibara had been nibbling at some powdered cookies just before. The way you lick your lips afterward is almost too adorable and he has to stop himself from leaning down to give you another kiss.
Himuro: Making sure to let you know that the two of you could skip out on the tradition if it makes you uncomfortable, Himuro secretly hopes that you’ll be fine with him offering you a kiss. His heart starts beating faster when you lean in to give him one before he can finish asking.
Akashi: He’s not a stickler for tradition, but this is one thing that Akashi can’t pass up. The hand he has on your cheek is cold in comparison to your warming face. You glance up just in time to see a gentle smile before he’s leaning down to press his lips against yours.
It’s super windy here today so it’s a perfect time to write about getting warmed up! Also, I don’t know how Christmasy this will feel except that it is December and I am cooking a meal similar to this. Thanks for the request!
Rushing from the bus stop, hair flying wild in the wind, she struggles to open the door with her arms filled with packages. Just as she’s about to push in the key, the latch turns and Asaki opens the door.
“______-chan? What are you doing? Why didn’t you call me?” he asks voice gentle as he gathers half of her wares. As his fingers graze her hand, he frowns. “You’re freezing,” he remarks, following her into the kitchen.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she complains, ignoring his concern of her well being. “I thought you’d still be at the office.”
He smiles as he sets down the bags in his arms, eyes looking at the top items; the ingredients to make her infamous stew. “Well, today’s a perfect day for that,” he admires. Then taking her hands once more he pulls her close. “But before you get started on that, let’s get you warmed up.”
His lips caress hers, hands sliding up her arms releasing goosebumps but as his tongue slides between her lips to dance with hers, she feels her body warming up quickly. Her hands wrap around his neck, cold fingers burying into his resplendently red hair pulling a moan from his throat. The sound increases her temperature further, a warming sensation racing through her blood.
Akashi draws back for breath, a heated look in his eyes. “Seems my plan will be counterproductive to yours but I think you’ll forgive me,” he whispers, voice low and rich. He doesn’t wait for a reply, gathering her in his arms and heading to their bedroom.
It’s super windy here today so it’s a perfect time to write about getting warmed up! Also, I don’t know how Christmasy this will feel except that it is December and I am cooking a meal similar to this. Thanks for the request!
Rushing from the bus stop, hair flying wild in the wind, she struggles to open the door with her arms filled with packages. Just as she’s about to push in the key, the latch turns and Asaki opens the door.
“______-chan? What are you doing? Why didn’t you call me?” he asks voice gentle as he gathers half of her wares. As his fingers graze her hand, he frowns. “You’re freezing,” he remarks, following her into the kitchen.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she complains, ignoring his concern of her well being. “I thought you’d still be at the office.”
He smiles as he sets down the bags in his arms, eyes looking at the top items; the ingredients to make her infamous stew. “Well, today’s a perfect day for that,” he admires. Then taking her hands once more he pulls her close. “But before you get started on that, let’s get you warmed up.”
His lips caress hers, hands sliding up her arms releasing goosebumps but as his tongue slides between her lips to dance with hers, she feels her body warming up quickly. Her hands wrap around his neck, cold fingers burying into his resplendently red hair pulling a moan from his throat. The sound increases her temperature further, a warming sensation racing through her blood.
Akashi draws back for breath, a heated look in his eyes. “Seems my plan will be counterproductive to yours but I think you’ll forgive me,” he whispers, voice low and rich. He doesn’t wait for a reply, gathering her in his arms and heading to their bedroom.
“Seijuro.” His name,
spoken in a tone barely above a whisper, but the need was present. She was in
heat, they both were, and desperation was setting in. Her hips ground down hard
against his erection and he moaned low in the back of his throat. His heart
would be racing, were it beating any longer, but he felt the drive anyway, the
impulse to throw her down and ravage her like the beast he was; like the beast
she wanted.
It wasn’t often either
of them were like this, most of the time preparing weeks in advance for their
mating season so that they would not be in this predicament.
By life, even an undead
one, can be unpredictable and Akashi knew they’d reached the point of no
return.
His irises flashed, one
color overcoming the other, his inner self raging for her, the scent of her
driving him mad.
“_________, prepare
yourself,” he warned, the next second hauling himself and her up from the couch
effortlessly. She clung to him, legs around his waist, hands buried in his hair
as her lips sealed over his, her protruding fangs nicking a small wound in the process.
Her reaction was instant, a firm suck making a flood of fire surge through both
their veins as she took her first taste of him.
Aksahi slammed her
against the bookcase, the impact shaking loose century old volumes and
scattering them about the floor. He paid them no mind, completely focused on
her neck. Sure, he could bite her anywhere he pleased and probably would do so,
but there was something so…pure about biting her there!
“Seijuro!”
Her voice was no longer
quiet, no longer subdued by thirst, she was relishing the puncture of his
fangs, writhing against him. Akashi’s hands grasped her hips tightly, his voice
whispering harshly, “Do not move, unless you want to get branded.”
She stilled just long
enough for him to release some of his venom, deadly to any living creature, and
quite effective he found at obliterating the tightly woven weave of her gown.
He left her top in place, her breasts still lifted by the corset remaining around
her waist. Blood poured from her wounds but he didn’t miss a drop, licking and
sucking the flowing river of deep crimson.
“You taste amazing,” he
praised, hands moving to the belt at his waist, unbuckling it quickly. His
pants fell away, pooling at his ankles only to be kicked away.
She couldn’t wait any
longer, grabbing his hand and tugging it to her mouth. At the first break of the
skin on his wrist, Akashi hissed in pleasure. Their eyes met then, hers
glowing blue while his burnt red as she sucked hard. Akashi’s head fell back,
his erection growing firmer and his need higher. Wrenching away his hand, he
clasped both of hers and hauled them above her head at the exact same moment he
drove his cock deep into her waiting heat.
It was the only part of
her still warm besides her blood.
“Darling,” she panted,
the term of endearment sweet against his ears despite the bloodied mess the two
of them were rapidly becoming. The servants, he knew, would have an absolute
fit the next morning when they came upon the remnants of their debauchery. He
thrust upwards, harder and harder, mouth and fangs latching back onto the side
of her neck while she did the same to him and they drank.
“Sweetheart, uhn…are you
close?” he asked, breathing labored with the effort to continue his exertions
while she practically drained him.
“Yes, oh, Seijuro,” she
moaned, lips stained with the evidence of her indulgence.
“Then cum for me, my
sweet, cum for your darling,” he commanded, eyes focused only on her face. It
didn’t take long, she had been a slave to his will for centuries, a willing
sacrifice to his wants and desires. Her body shuddered, power both surging through
and out of her as she came. Her release allowed him his own, both collapsing at
the end of their tryst.
When he opened his eyes
once more, Akashi literally saw red, both she and he covered in it. Gathering
his strength, and her once more in his arms, he headed to the opulent bathroom
of their shared quarters, drawing a hot bath to wash them before tucking
themselves into the master suite buried deep in the center of his mansion, away
from sunlight, hunters and whining servants.
Awww! Thank you! I tried to come up with something clever but some of what I did or found just sounded like cheesy pick up lines! LOL So I decided to try GIF reactions for the first time. I hope you like them. I put them under a read more since the gifs are large.
Characters are adults here, think late twenties. I also think this is longer than the other stories in Cantabile, because *inspiration*!
Maybe everything happened because of fate.
The recital hall is packed, and you’re not exaggerating when you say it literally looks like a sea of people. The traffic was hectic, which lead to your almost late arrival. You regret not being able to meet your student to give her encouragement, but thankfully her mobile was reachable just a couple of minutes ago, so you were able to cheer her on through a simple phone call.
You’re struggling to find an empty seat—the lights are dim, making it harder for you to look for one. Eventually you see one empty seat right beside the aisle, a man sitting on the seat next to it. You walk over in a slightly faster pace than you’re used to, not wanting the seat to be taken by someone else.
“Excuse me,” you say, grabbing his attention, “is this seat taken?”
Shocking scarlet eyes look back at you in mild surprise. He looks your age, somewhere between mid- and late-twenties, though his face might pass for early-twenties instead. He’s dressed formally, like most of the people attending the recital, including you. When he speaks, his tone is professional and dignified:
“No, please.”
You smile, relieved and thankful, as you shuffle into your seat, fixing your clothes as you’re seated. You murmur your gratitude, while he replies with a simple “you’re welcome”. Realizing that there’s still at least five more minutes until the show starts, you glance at him, pondering if you should make small talk.
Before you can decide, he beats you to it.
“What brings you here today?”
“Oh,” you blink, surprised at the initiative, “it’s my student, actually. She’s performing.”
His eyes shines with interest, that much is plain to see. A small smile graces his lips.
“Really. Instrument?”
“Piano. She’s playing Schumann today.”
He hums and nods, seemingly pleased with your answer.
“And what about you?” You ask.
“My friend’s daughter is playing,” he replies, “though I came here rather late, and I couldn’t seem to find him.”
“Wow, that’s unfortunate,” you say sympathetically, “did you get caught in the traffic or something?”
“Yes,” the redhead answers, shaking his head slightly at the memory of the traffic jam he experienced earlier. Owning a luxury sedan doesn’t make life easier in Tokyo. “I didn’t expect it to be that bad.”
“Same,” you sigh, “but at least we’re here now.”
The lights are dimmed down, and the two of you gather that the recital is about to start. Amongst the minimally lit room, however, you can see that the man has extended a hand.
“Akashi,” he says, “Akashi Seijuurou.”
It takes you two seconds into the handshake to offer you your own full name upon realizing that the person next to you is the CEO to an extremely successful company.
“How did you enjoy the performance?” Akashi asks you in the middle of the applause at the closing performance. You need to lean in a little bit to hear him, and your shoulder unintentionally touches his. He doesn’t seem to notice—if he does, he doesn’t look like he minds. You, on the other hand, have to mutter a simple apology, moving away before answering his question.
“It was intriguing,” you reply, slowly stopping your own applause, “some of the pieces were interpreted differently by their respective performers. I feel refreshed.” You smile, standing up the same time as he does. It seems like Akashi is going to at least walk out of the hall with you before parting ways, and with that in mind, you tread up the stairs with him by your side, exchanging banter mostly about the recital that just ended.
The light outside is almost blinding, since it is only 4 p.m. and the sun is still shining in the desaturated blue of the winter sky. You have to squint slightly a few moments upon exiting the dim hall to adjust your eyes. Akashi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too bothered, and you notice just how he looks three times more captivating under the late afternoon sunlight.
“Your student performed brilliantly,” he compliments, “her teacher must be excellent, as well.” When he says that, he looks at you with mirth in his eyes. Is he teasing you? You can only chuckle and bashfully look down to the ground.
“Ah, speaking of which, I need to congratulate her,” you say, looking around outside the auditorium entrance to spot your student. She must be with her parents here somewhere.
“I suppose I should also say hello to my friend,” he replies. “But before you go, ___________-san…”
You turn to look at him writing something on what looks like a business card, before he hands it to you.
“I hope you don’t mind me giving you my personal number,” Akashi says with a smile. It is somehow different compared to the other smiles he’s sent you during the short period of time you’ve got to know each other—ever enigmatic, but somehow this time it’s more… gallant.
“I’d like to get to know you more, perhaps over coffee or lunch. Call me if you’re free,” he says, before spotting someone from afar—green hair and tall stature makes someone much easier to find in a crowd.
“And that would be my friend. Until next time,
___________-san.”
You’re in a standstill, his card still in your hand as you watch him walk away to greet his friend. Until next time, huh… he’s that confident that you’re going to call him.
You can’t say he’s wrong.
‘Getting to know each other’ ends up happening over lunch dates instead—he picks you up at 12.30 sharp every time, drives you to a restaurant that he recommends, and you’d talk and eat for an hour. From the four lunch dates that he’s taken you to, you now know several things about him: that he knows how to play the violin, and his favorites are Bach and Brahms, and that he also knows how to play the piano (unsurprising, in your opinion). He used to play basketball in high school—you know the whole story—and you know of his family. You know that he likes tofu soup, and a bunch of other things that would take a whole day to describe.
When you see him through the window of the classroom you’re teaching in, you can’t be any more surprised.
“Can you complete number 5 and 7, too? I will check your answers when you’re done with everything,” you tell your student, who replies with a simple “okay” before you walk to get the door, closing it once you’re out of the room. The look on Akashi’s face tells you that he’s entertained by your shocked expression.
“Akashi-san, what are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too,” Akashi says, holding out a small, simple bouquet of red tulips. Knowing him, who likes things of extravagance and class, he probably doesn’t want you to look unprofessional in your work place.
“I thought I could pay you a surprise visit,” he continues.
“Well, you succeeded on that,” you reply, holding the flowers in your hands, “and you shouldn’t have, really.”
“I wanted to,” he smiles. You have to hold in the urge to blush.
“Thank you, they’re lovely.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence sets in the two of you for a few seconds, and you certainly aren’t able to gauge the look on Akashi’s face while your eyes keep looking anywhere but him.
“I was wondering if you’re free for dinner tomorrow night?” Akashi asks, a casual hand in his pocket.
“Yes, I am,” you say, “are you picking me up?”
“Of course,” he replies smoothly as he flashes one of those dangerously charming smiles to you. You thought that seeing it more often for the past three weeks would make you somewhat immune to it, but his charm, if anything, gets even stronger. Or is it you who is getting weaker? “Is seven alright?”
“Yes, that works just fine,” you say, smiling back at him. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, like he always does before and after a date with you—you told him you thought only people in the olden days did that, and he laughed. This time, however, you don’t comment. The pink on your cheeks tell him everything he needs to know.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
You wave him goodbye as he walks away from the classroom towards the exit—the front desk must’ve told him you’re almost done with this class and let him in. You hope the other teachers weren’t around to see that… Opening the door to your classroom with the bouquet in your hands, you see your student still twirling the pencil in his hand, and when he looks up at you, he’s mildly surprised at the bunch of flowers you’ve got.
“How are we going along?”
“Sensei, was that your boyfriend?” The boy teases, grinning mischievously with curiosity in his eyes. You burst out laughing.
“He’s… someone I’ve known for a while. Now, if the question asks you to identify the tempo in
Mälzel’s Metronome—”
The dinner was splendid, even Akashi has to admit at least that. He told you beforehand that the restaurant isn’t really one you can enter without complying to a certain dresscode, which took you by surprise, but he must say that you look gorgeous with that outfit on. He just has to examine you from head to toe another time, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat of his Aston Martin, looking out the night lights of the city.
Akashi is never one to quickly jump into things that is uncertain. He does make swift decisions, but all of them are accurate, precise, calculated, and always right.
So when he thinks meeting you is love in first sight, that might as well be the truth.
It wasn’t all flowers and pink auras in your first meeting, that’s for sure, but he remembers exactly how it felt when his eyes met yours. There’s something different, and a voice inside him (his conscience, or his demons?) telling him that you’re different. Of course he included the possibility of being physically attracted to you, which is a very natural thing considering how appealing you are, but he’s never one to be simply allured by looks.
After various processes in his mind, he concluded that the butterflies in his stomach can only be the product of the so-called love at first sight.
“Akashi-san, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask, a small smile on your face. Trying to guess where he’s taking you makes it all the more exhilarating—you haven’t felt this way in a very long while.
“My home,” he answers, and before you can retaliate or question him, or think of other more suggestive possibilities, he continues.
“I want to show you something.”
When he brings back a violin case to the living room where you’re sat, you gasp. He can only smile back, taking extreme delight in your shock.
He’s going to play for you.
And it’s not like you’ve never heard someone play the violin. You’ve been to many violin performances, the recital where the two of you met counts as one, but to have someone that is a romantic interest to perform in front of you, just the two of you—
It has to be a serenade.
He elegantly holds the instrument up, his fingers delicately hovering over the strings, and as his right hand starts to move the bow across the instrument, you find yourself surprised yet again.
Liebestraum.
“Love’s Dream”, so it is called, by Liszt. It is a classic piano piece, you’ve never heard it on the violin before, but the melody sounds so enchanting when Akashi plays it. The room is quiet, and the sound of the instrument resonates so beautifully in the midst of the silence, letting you hear each and every note clearly.
It’s his confession of love.
Akashi is deep in concentration as he plays, so when his scarlet eyes look up at you from the violin, you can’t find it in you to look away. He’ll only gaze at you for so long before returning back to playing, eyelids fluttering once in a while as his fingers dance to the theme of the song. He said that he hasn’t played for a while… did he practice for this? Visions of him playing the violin somewhere in his mansion, alone, spending an hour or two for this piece—it grips your heart so strongly.
When the main melody is repeated in a higher octave, you know that the song is about to end, but it sounds so sad and beautiful that it makes your eyes water, hand cupping your mouth to prevent whatever unelegant sound you’re about to make. The piece reaches a romantic conclusion, like the last word written in a book, or a couple exchanging sacred three words.
Akashi exhales, puts down the instrument and looks to you to gauge reaction.
Instead of the applause he’s expecting, he sees you walking towards him and cupping his face with both hands before kissing him.
It’s something that he returns whole-heartedly, of course, for he’s sure his heart has never felt that close to bursting at the seams. The touch of your lips are initially soft and tender, but something in him decides to take more of you, and his hand moves to your waist to press you against his body. His mouth moves against yours in a passionate dance, encasing your bottom lip in his to suck on it, while he has a hand behind your head to pull you impossibly closer to him.
He wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the wetness he feels against your cheek.
“You’re crying,” Akashi says after slowly pulling away, his finger wiping away the tears, only to find more of them streaming down your cheeks. You sigh helplessly before resting your face against his chest, inadvertently inhaling his scent.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “that was just… beautiful, I don’t know what else I can say—”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says, chuckling a little bit, and you can feel the vibrations deep in his chest.
“I—did you—Akashi-san, how long—”
“Please, call me Seijuurou,” he cuts you off, patting your head lovingly in attempts to calm you down. “I shall also call you
___________, if you wish.”
“Seijuurou,” you begin again, and he prays to heavens that you don’t catch the way his heart beats like a hammer against his ribcage when he hears you say his name, “how long did you spend practicing for this?”
“That’s a secret I can’t tell,” Akashi answers, mischief apparent in his gaze. You pout, disappointed at the answer, but you lean up to kiss him again nonetheless, this time with your arms wrapped around his shoulder. Akashi’s lips curl into a subtle smirk against the kiss, and when your mouth opens slightly as a form of invitation, he wants nothing more than to accept.
When you part, your eyes are half-lidded, and Akashi can’t decide if it’s from lust or love before he concludes that it’s both.
“Aka—Seijuurou, are we…”
“A couple?” He finishes your sentence for you when he senses you trailing off, and then dips down to your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Yes, we are. I’d like you to be mine.”
“Mmm,” you hum in both agreement and pleasure from his treatment, “I’d like that too.”
Scarlet eyes look deep into yours, and he sees love in them just like you see love in his—it’s just a matter of time until the two of you feel right to say it out loud. For now, his violin has initiated the conversation, and you’re speaking with your eyes, with how you admire his face and how he watches your lips move as you speak. For now, the two of you will just bask in romance’s dream.
A time will come in the future when he’ll say he fell in love with you first and you had no idea, but that’s for later, Akashi decides.
Gahhhhhhh!!!!! Beautiful, beautiful!!! He’s so romantic!!!
*Wraps his hand in your hair, returning your kiss before pulling away to look in your eyes* “That’s fairly
evident, ____-chan, though I appreciate your show and tell.”
*Akashi smiles warmly, skin humming happily from your affection and
touches your face* “Adorable, hmmm? Not usually a word people use to describe
me but I’ll accept it from you. As for perfection,” his arms wrap tighter
around your waist, “the only one here who’s perfect is you for me.”
Hi! I did imagine/reactions and tried to hit as many of your criteria as I could but not
everything made it. I hope you still like what I come up with.
Trigger warning: Mentions of death and violence.
Akashi
He’s away on business when news of your death reaches him.
It was an assassination, one bullet to your forehead while you stood on the
balcony of his room. Reo’s crying can be heard on the other end of the line,
but Akashi feels numb. He blinks, eyes shifting from one color to two. “Find
them, Reo. Bring them to me unharmed.” It doesn’t take long for the offenders
to be caught, brought before the head of the Rakuzan. Akashi sits silent,
staring at the scum responsible for the loss of the light of his life.
Standing, he picks up a knife, checking its sharpness on the skin of his thumb.
“Her death, was quick and painless,” he muses. Turning a murderous glare upon
them he sneers, “Yours will not be.”
Aomine
“You idiot,” Aomine mutters taking a seat upon the ground
next to your headstone. It’s his usual greeting to you now since one stupid
decision, yours, took you away from him. Why did you have to jump in front of
him when that asshole pulled the gun? He could have taken the hit and kept on
going but no, his foolish girlfriend just had to be a hero. Sighing, his head
lands with a soft thud against the granite, your name pressing into his back.
Memories of that rainy night flood his mind, a voice he didn’t recognize
screaming, “The only one who can beat me
is me!” It wasn’t until later that he realized it had been own his voice declaring
what he knew now to be a lie. There was one person who can beat him; you. After
your death, he left Too, walked away from it all to live a life of solitude. Without
you here, there really wasn’t a point to try anymore.
Midorima
Staring at your empty shell in the hospital bed, ventilators
giving the illusion you’re still among the living, Midorima allows one tear to
trail down his cheek. “I told you to keep your lucky item with you at all
times,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you one last time. You look so
peaceful despite the bruises upon your face, ugly reminders of the beating you
underwent that took your last breath. Inhaling one of his own and cursing the
gods for their abandonment, Midorima gives the word to pull the plug. As the
heart monitor sounds, Takao chokes back a sob, trying to stay strong for his
friend and comrade. “Let’s go Takao,” Midorima announces after all the machines
are wheeled away, “it’s time to show those who would dare take from me the true
meaning of misfortune.”
Murasakibara
Murasakibara never thought he would reach a point in his
life where he hated food. But now, looking at your face from which all color
and life has been drained, he does. A box of chocolates, a fucking box of
chocolates seemingly sent to you from him and now you’re dead. Because he didn’t
take the threats seriously when he thought them to be directed at his own
person. He never even considered they’d go after you. And in such an
underhanded and cowardly manner too, using poison instead of facing their
enemies head on. Standing up, Murasakibara’s eyes gleam with fury. “Himuro, get
my hammer. I’m going to crush them.”
Kise
Loud wailing sobs echo in the alley, Kaijo’s golden boy inconsolable
as he holds your bleeding form against his body. Your spirit has long since
left, skin turning colder and colder as the seconds tick by. Kasamatsu stands rigid,
mouth moving but no sound coming out, horrified that you’re dead. The stabbing
had been quick and visceral, your attackers scrambling up the fire escape to
the roof while Kise and Kasamatsu rushed to your aid. When Kise’s cries begin
to die down to sniffles, his leader touches him on the shoulder. Kise looks up,
eyes red rimmed and blood staining his shirt.
“Can you stand?” .
Looking down at you one last time, Kise caresses your
cheek, choking out, “Sleep well, _____cchi, I’ll…I’ll see you again someday.”
He lays you down, grasping Kasamatsu’s hand with one covered in blood. “Come
on, it’s time to return the favor,” he vows, eyes going dark.
Kuroko
“Kuroko, I…I’m so sorry,” Kiyoshi mumbles. Your body lays on
Kuroko’s bed, a vicious rope burn evident on your neck. The members of Seirin
who found you hanging couldn’t leave you like that, opting to cut you down
before calling their leaders. Hyuuga reprimands them in the next room but he’s surprisingly
quiet in doing so, the loss of your life seemingly at your own hands weighing
heavily on the makeshift family. Kuroko’s eyes fill with tears looking at you.
Were you really so unhappy? Was there anything he could have-
His thoughts cut off when he notices something the others
missed. Kagami sees the shift in his expression, leaning closer to try to see what
his shadow does. “What is it Kuroko?” he asks drawing the attention of Riko and
Kiyoshi back to the bed.
Kuroko points to a puncture mark in the side of your neck. “She
didn’t kill herself, they sedated her then strung her up,” Kuroko announces to
the room as a whole. Everyone looks at him in shock.
“Who did?” asks Izuki.
“I don’t know yet, but I’m going to find out,” he replies
storming out of the room with Kagami in his wake. It doesn’t take long for the
rest of the gang to follow. They’ll go to hell and back again to send your
killers to their graves for what they did to you.
Kagami
Promises. Kagami has always been leery of them and for good
reason. Making promises almost always ends with someone being disappointed and
now is no exception. How could he have made that stupid promise so callously? Because
he never truly believed it would come to pass. Yet now, he here is, on a date
with someone who isn’t you because he made a promise. A foolish promise that
should anything ever happen to you, he’d move on, that he’d find love again and
be happy because you couldn’t bear the thought of him going through life alone
and miserable. And that he wouldn’t seek revenge because an eye for eye just
makes the whole world go blind.
But he knows, just as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow,
that he’s going to break both his promises in one night.
If only he hadn’t run his mouth at that rumble, if only he’d
stayed home that night, then at least you’d be dead together, dual victims of
the drive by orchestrated by Haizaki.
If only, if only, if only.
He stands, offering a half assed apology that he has to go
and walks out. He keeps walking until he reaches the gang’s hang out. Hyuuga
doesn’t question his early return, merely hands him his gun with a warning to
be careful and not get caught.
Momoi
For all her ability to anticipate her opponent’s moves, even
Momoi can be caught off guard and this time the cost of oversight is too much.
Her ears are still ringing from the explosion, her body sore from being thrown
violently by the shock wave of the car bomb. Standing slowly, grit and tar
clinging to her skin, she stares in disbelief at the mangled form of her lover’s
car, his body completely obliterated. Hysterical, she runs towards the flames,
caught at the last second by Aomine who she fights against in desperation. “He’s
gone, Satsuki!” shouts the blue hair. She looks in his eyes, shaking her head. With
gentleness unknown to be possible, Aomine touches her cheek and nods. “I’m
sorry, but he’s gone.” He allows her to collapse in his arms, holding her up.
Meeting the eyes of his fellow gang members he hisses, “Nobody sleeps until the
fucker who did this is six feet under.”
Let's Otaku About It 