The Empress [Prince of Tennis + Kuroko No Basket Crossover]

Special II: Chevalier Haru

WARNING: This chapter became darker than I planned. There is child abuse, inappropriate words, and prostitution mentioned in this chapter. If you are triggered by any of those, I would recommend skipping this chapter. I can summarize for those who choose to skip this chapter.

"I'm waiting for the day she sees me again."
—Chevalier Haru

The Empress | Special II

Haru.

Haru meant sun.

The brightest star.

But he wasn't it. He wasn't always Haru. 

He was Schmutz once.

Born from an abandoned prostitute, he was known as an unlucky child. He never knew his dad yet he could guess his identity. One of the prostitute's clients.

The prostitute never wanted him. He was always in the way of her pretense of happiness.

So she named him 

Schmutz. 

Dirt.

That's what he was for the woman who birthed him.

They lived in a high-crime area where others prostitutes and thieves resided in hopes of escaping somewhere else. Their "house" wasn't a house, it was more like a storage room. It was a rectangular space with a broken sink and toilet bowl off to the side separated by a thin border. There was no kitchen or bed. They laid on the ground with a thin bedsheet as a cushion and a pillow made of clothes that were beyond repair.

Schmutz doesn't remember much of his childhood. His earliest memory included crying under the prostitute's rough hands when she didn't receive as many clients. But over time, the pain became less hurtful until it eventually became numb.

Schmutz didn't have much to do. His hobby was people-watching in the streets of Düsseldorf. When the prostitute kicked him out of their storage-room house to entertain another client for the day, he often watched the streets.

From observing the people of Düsseldorf, you can learn a lot about them.

Like how the more vulgar people always tried to hide their nature yet their body-language gave them away.

Like how the greedy ones can't hide their eyes when they look at valuables.

Like how the thieves believe themselves to be smart and sneaky enough to get away with anything.

Schmutz always saw right through them. He was good at reading people.

After hours of watching, his stomach growled. The familiar feeling of hollow pain filled his abdominal. But he ignored it. It wasn't like he could do anything about it. If he got caught stealing from the food stands again, the prostitute might beat him to death before the store owner did. He didn't want to 'ruin' her 'reputation' any further.

He watched the rich with their fancy cars and lavish clothes pass the busy streets. Nevertheless, they were selfish. They never stopped for dirt like him. They always glanced at him with disgust and turn their noses the other way. 

Sometimes the rich children came closer to watch him as if he was some sort of funny animal before leaving with their parents with a smug look.

Schmutz decided if he was ever rich, he would never be like them. He wouldn't look down on anyone.

Seeing the client the prostitute was accompanying walk past his seated figure, Schmutz decided it was okay to go back. Although, based on the sneer on the man's face, Schmutz wasn't sure if it was safe.