inked.

A Kid In An Ink Shop

"And who the fuck are you?"

"Y/N. I'm your new apprentice."

Kuroo snorts, turning away from you so he can return to his sketchbook. "That's a good one, kid. I don't-"

"I know you don't take apprentices, but I don't care. I have looked up to you for years and I want to learn from you. I could easily walk down the street and get an apprenticeship with the artist at Seven D-"

"We don't talk about that snake in here," he grumbles, tapping his pen against his chin as he stared down at the modified concepts, contemplating between a few designs before shaking his head and turning to a new page and drafting up more ideas to fix the current disaster of Tsukishima's tattoo. "You said it yourself. I don't take apprentices so I don't know why you decided to waste your time coming down here. You might as well just go."

He was fully expecting you to turn on your heels and walk out, accept your defeat, but you stood rooted in your place, that same challenging expression painted across your features as if he were some final boss in a video game. "I'm not leaving until you look at my portfolio."

"Kid, there are at least five other shops within a mile radius of here. Why don't you take this stupid act of yours somewhere else? You're really starting to get on my last nerve," Kuroo says, weaving his free hand through his hair, amber eyes never even glancing in your direction.

"I want to learn from the best and-"

"Kiss ass."

"Are you going to look at my portfolio or not? I'm not going to run circles with you all day."

Kuroo couldn't keep the laugh from bubbling in his chest as he finally turned back to face you. "Run circles with me? Kid, I have made it perfectly clear that I have no interest in you. I don't need an apprentice. I don't want an apprentice and, on the off chance that I did, I sure as hell would not be picking the person who waltzed into my shop, blatantly ignored the front desk clerk who told you multiple times that I was busy, and then proceeded to fuck up my work station with their lousy portfolio! I don't know how you want me to put it so that you'll finally get it through your damn head." Kuroo's height and stature already commanded the presence of any room, but the tilt to his head and the absolute boredom swimming in narrow eyes as he got to his feet, sauntering towards you, well, you had never felt so small. He was only two years older, but he was more intimidating than any man that you had ever met as he stared down at you, the black book of your portfolio, nestled between his hands. But, he pushed it against your chest as he walked past you. "Get the hell out of my shop, kid. Take it to somebody who gives a shit."

The tattoo shop goes silent, only the sound of Kuroo's sneakers against the tile floor as he moves to the front of the shop to busy himself at the desk with Akaashi. It feels like a weight has settled into your chest, slowly sinking its way down to your stomach and it's only a matter of times before that feeling of defeat really soaks in and lets those hot tears spring to your eyes. You can only swallow your pride and try your best to hold your head high as you walk back in the direction you came, past the big man who had tried his best to block your path, past the soft-spoken desk clerk with sleepy eyes and handsome features, past the one man that you looked up to more than anyone else in the world. The bell above the door jingles on your way out.

"You were rude." Kuroo's movements come to a pause as he looks up to meet Akaashi's eyes. He didn't know that Akaashi could look more stern than usual, but the knit to his brows and the frown that settled on his lips proved Kuroo wrong. "Couldn't you have just humored them? At least open their portfolio. Maybe they were good, but you'll never know because you chased them away."