Kuroko No Basket Imagines. {KnB x Reader}

Akashi Seijuro

- May be triggering, please read at your own risks. OML FUTURE WINNIE WANTS TO KILL HERSELF BECAUSE THIS WAS SO BAD. I've re-written the whole thing because I really needed to. 8/8/2016.-

  It's always itching at the back of your mind. You've said that you're getting better, but in reality you really are getting worse. The darkness spreads like the plague and it just feels so heavy. It drags you down beneath the cold surface, and you have to struggle to breath over and over again. You have to carry it around like it's some parasite that won't leave, it's made itself comfortable in the depths of your thoughts. Occasionally small happy thoughts erupt, but they're destroyed just as quickly as they come. There can only be one culprit, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

  The mental ordeal suddenly changes into something more physical. The pain inside is just so great, that you feel like you need some sort of release. You never really believed in self-harming, but now you understand why it's such a problem. It's addicting because you actually start to feel alive when the crimson flows down your arms and thighs. The soft trickling is some sort of reassurance, soothing you of the rippling fears that lurked beneath your thin and translucent skin. It's got harder and harder to hide the scars and wounds, because every little movement threatened to expose them for good. You'd always carry some sort of sharp object around, and most of the time you carry about red scissors. They're the sharp kinds with merciless blades that can slice through skin with ease.

  This is probably why you sit at the back of the class. Nobody notices you, and somehow you re grateful for their lack of attention. You've had some close calls with people noticing your cuts, but nothing major enough to blow your entire cover. But you should've known that there was someone in that exact class that had his suspicions. He's unbelievably observant and has seen how deep they can get, but he hasn't really said anything. 

  Akashi's been watching you for a while now. He noticed every little thing about you, mainly because he found you pathetic. But this pity suddenly transforms into something much deeper, and he realises that he wants to be the one to pull you out of the hell you reside in. He's just finding his opportunity to strike. Little does he know, he's about to be given the largest chance to prove himself to you. 

  Everybody's left the classroom for lunch, but you stay behind. It's not just because you never really have an appetite to eat, but it's because you finally have the time to be alone with yourself. It's the most destructive thing you could be doing to yourself, but you don't really care anymore. Life is too long, and cutting it short may actually be the only answer. So you start to slash, the pain is something you're already used to. There's nothing but relief, but the tears still sting at your eyes painfully. You let out a strangled gasp as you finally pull the blade away from your skin. Your eyes refocus on the blood droplets emerging from the jagged lines, they run down your wrist, staining the white marble floor. That's when you feel a presence at the door, and your head snaps up to see Akashi leaning against it, his demonic eyes flashing with urgency and something on the lines of anger. You don't even have any time to react as he snatches the weapon out of your feeble grip. He shoves it in his pocket before pulling your mutilated arm up. His breath hitches in his throat as he examines the damage, and he wraps his handkerchief around you tightly. You don't say anything as you're still in shock of being found out, but he leads you into the empty infirmary and begins to patch you up.

  He truly is a beautiful specimen. His light red hair is styled to perfection, and his handsome features shine through everything else. He contradicts you to an extent that you start to feel out of place around him. He radiates such warmth and light, whereas you emit only sorrow and darkness. He doesn't look you in the eye again, as he helps you patch up. But his lips do part as he says something.

"Promise me." he demands clearly.

"What?" you whisper hoarsely at his sudden request.

"Promise me that you won't do something like this again."