Yellow Diamonds [AkaKuro Fanfiction]

Prologue ✔

Rewritten version: 04/21/2017

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Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke. Fujimaki Tadatoshi-sensei owns it. The only thing I own is this story.

I do not own the cover photo either. Credits go to their respective owners.

Warning: Grammatical errors, unbetaed :3

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The darkness is fearsome... but it will always be a part of us – just like a shadow, a guarded silhouette, a concealed piece of our own humanity. Inevitably so, a day will come when what's supposed to be left hidden in the depths of one's soul will be laid bare... and the forgotten shadow will overcome the light.

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Left.

The man hastily turned, reaching the dark, cold shelter of an abandoned alley. It was murky and gloomy, despite the cacophony of conversations humming out of tune on the main street.

The city at night, as usual, was basked in colorful lights, overpowering the beauty of the stellar heavens. The stars regrettably were swallowed whole by the bright, flashing lights.

The man looked over his shoulder, his eyes cautious and desperate. For a split second, he wondered how two completely opposite worlds could be connected in the very same place. It was as if he had entered an entirely different dimension illusorily linked by a non-existent door.

The night was like an incomplete paradox, painted with inharmonious hues creating still a whole picture.

Breathing raggedly, the man rushed further into the alley. He didn't care if he were about to run out of air, nor if his legs were about to give in. He continued running, his eyes desperately batting on all sides. He knew he was hopefully searching for something hopeless.

An escape route.

Alas, he reached the end of the alley. Unfortunately, what he thought would give him freedom had instead served as his cage – the cage of a mouse trapped on all sides with no other means of escape. Death wasn't an option, either. It wasn't his option. After all he had been through, he still had a lot to do. He still had lots of works left unfinished. He still had a lot to reveal to this godforsaken world...

Finally, he reached the barred end of the dark alleyway. He clasped the wire fence in a futile attempt to climb to the other side. Maybe if he could, he would be away from the demon's reach, the man thought. The boundary was about 3 to 4 meters in height, but the fact didn't matter to him at the moment. He only had one thing in mind and that was to run away from those dreadful eyes.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

His mind played the sound of a ticking clock – or more accurately, a bomb that had been armed – to match his palpitating heartbeat. Both were in synchrony, a horrifying melody of panic and demise. He cursed in alarm, his palms turning cold as if they were readying him for his eventual fate.

Slowly, the sound of footsteps reverberated on the quiet street. And, as each second passed in dire, the paralyzing sound became clearer, more audible, even more frightening.

From a distance, another figure appeared from the surface of the bricked wall, like a creature that glided across the depths of darkness. Red and gold eerily glowed within the shadows, slowly approaching, the footsteps then becoming louder.

Soon, the figure was revealed. His body was divided by the darkness of the backstreet and the waning light of the moon. Crimson strands outlined the other man's face, but his youthful appearance was still recognizable. His posture was dignified, except for the slightly creased condition of his clothes. Still, his gait remained perfect, his posture without fault. Slowly, his lips curved upward as his eyes pinned down his prey.

"N-No..." The cornered tiger pleaded, his feet planted on the ground. He was clenching the tall fence in front of him, his face paling as he felt the presence behind him. He wanted to escape, to move, but his own body failed to take his command.

An amused chuckle resounded as the moon decided to hide itself behind the blanket of clouds. The crimson-haired man let out a long, contemplative sigh which was everything but truthful. A side of his face was concealed beneath the shadows of the tall bricked structure to his left, revealing only half of his countenance for identification. His left iris, which was a luscious gold, glinted in the shadows as he stared at the pitiful person in front of him.

He tut-tutted as he reached for the inside of his coat. "We can't have you pleading like that, after what you'd done to him," he said with a disappointed sigh.

There was a single click.

His prey faced him. "Please–"

He had the other right where he wanted him.

He aimed.

And then...

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.

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Bang!

The sound of metal clanging across the pavement came, followed by a loud thud which woke the nocturnal creatures from their peaceful slumber. Dark shadows flew away.

The crimson-haired man stared in boredom at the retreating creatures. He returned his gun to the holster concealed in his coat without batting an eye.

From a distance, the other man's body laid motionlessly on the cold, concrete ground. The moon, once more, peeked upon the ominous clouds. White luminance shone upon the slumped body on the ground. A pool of rich, viscous red crept its way out from the bullet hole at the man's chest. The crimson liquid slowly tainted the man's ivory dress shirt, creeping down his right shoulder to the strands of his dark-red hair. But because of the similarity in color, one might not notice the liquid of life which was slowly taking his life away.

The crimson-haired man strode forward, looking down on the unmoving body under his gaze. "Your greatest mistake was involving him," he spat with a glare.

He turned and walked away from the scene, now watching the sight before him with gentle eyes, as if he were just taking a night stroll. He stopped right before he reached the line connecting the darkness and the light. He fetched a cloth from his pocket and wiped the invisible stain on his hands. The pastel blue fabric was simply embroidered with a black writing. Written beautifully in elegant, cursive characters are: K.T.

The crimson-haired man brought the handkerchief to his lips. He closed his eyes, inhaling once the lingering sweet scent on the cloth. He didn't mind the smell of gunpowder from his hand. It didn't even smell like that at all. It smelled like that person. It smelled like vanilla. He folded the handkerchief and slipped it back to his breast pocket. He stepped out to the light. He smiled. He couldn't wait to see his beloved again.

Soon, he was a speck among the busy streets.

Once again, the forgotten alley was invaded by the loud discordance of the red-light district and the night carried on its usual song of tragedy.

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A/N:

Okay. So, it's my dream to write a dark-themed AkaKuro fic, and now I'm fulfilling it. English isn't my first language, so the words I use on my fics are kinda repetitive. Though, I'm trying my best to improve them. orz

This is the one-shot I mentioned in Full Stop! I decided not to make this a one-shot anymore, so...

The chapters for this fic will be much shorter than the ones in Missing Pieces. My reason being: so that I can update it regularly.

So, what do you guys think?