Kuroko no Basuke/黒子のバスケ 1. a rose bride

**A/N**: _i wanted to write this after spending almost like a solid thirteen years of my life reading about chinese dynasties and i thought it was hardcore kickass. also, i'm an idiot with grammar, and historical discrepancies might occur. heck can i just say that i'm copy-pasting chinese empire right into japan with akashi in modern times? guilty pleasure fic, also warning in advance, this stuff is probably going to get a bit psychotic or disturbing, but i'll try to put some warning without spoilers? also, ratings will increase over time. so yeah, enjoy as much as you can. also, comments or criticisms are great too, b/c i'm just meh at this idk. _**enjoy!**

* * *

Nine days, four hours, and twenty-eight minutes.

That's how long Kuroko Tetsuya has officially become one of the Imperial Consorts of the Akashi Household.

That's how long Kuroko finds himself clad and draped with multiple layers of posh brocade, crafted silks with embroidered landscapes of preening peahens and winter plum blossoms, eyes highlighted with red eye shadows and lips slicked with glossy paint, thin wrists shackled by pearl encrusted bangles, and ankles fastened with a stack of white jadeite anklets, which rattle like finely made wind chimes whenever he moves his feet. Everything about him exudes royalty, grandeur, luxury that nobody else can attain, as he's one of the three hundred faces that represents Japan, that represents the woven threads of tradition, _that_ represents the name of His Majesty Akashi Seijūrō himself.

That's how long he has become one of the omegas responsible for carrying the future lineage of the emperor's bloodline.

That's how _long_ he's been imprisoned by this foreign fate.

* * *

**the vindictive paradise**  
_a rose bride_

* * *

_"I've come to collect you, Kuroko Tetsuya-sama."_

_The blonde who sits with his legs folded underneath him takes the chance to stare at the teen with his bright golden eyes, but there's an unmistakable twinge of weariness slowly corroding him from within. Dressed in an obviously tailored suit with silver cufflinks and a single hoop earring, he introduces himself as the model-turned-minister of Japan, Kise Ryota, and he wastes no time in making the details explicit to Kuroko's caretakers. He does everything primly; straight-faced and not missing a single heartbeat from the way he answers their questions as though he's practiced doing this for all of his life._

_It's a futile attempt, but Kuroko tries it anyway._

_"Can't I stay with my parents and grandmother?" the teen asks, lowering his eyes respectfully. "I know it's a bit too much to ask from you—"_

_"—and you're completely right, it's a bit too much to ask for, Kuroko-sama," Kise interjects with a thin smile, and his voice is brittle. "You know that you're an omega, right? People like you are already so rare in Japan and we're sent everywhere to scout for the remaining ones from time to time. Well," he chuckles, rubbing his nape, "Omegas have a unique scent anyway so it's not so hard for us to find them."_

_Kuroko doesn't miss the way Kise has his ears and tail out, fluffy and swaying steadily in the small confines of Kuroko's cramped living room. It's a way for the blonde to say that he's a full-fledged lethal alpha, domineering predators with an animalistic trait that are tiers higher than the boilerplate betas, and betas are the ones with the typical animal traits. Alphas are popularly recognized as proud creatures who won't hesitate to show their masculinity despite having the ability to conceal their animalistic features, and if that means they have to live with their tail, ears, wings or horns jutting out all the time, then so be it._

_And then there's Kuroko, one of the blank omegas, one who's blessed with the ability to receive the traits of the alphas or betas who mate with him._

_That's why omegas are so precious to the emperor._

_That's why Kuroko has to go._

_That's why they're crying._

_"What happens if… if we don't want to let Tecchan go…?" his grandmother croaks feebly, her sparse eyelashes fluttering with unshed tears that threaten to rain down her cheeks. Chopstick thin fingers dig deeper into the worn material of her kimono and strands of her greying hair fall over her face. "Our Tecchan is so important to us—"_

_"—and even more important to the country, ma'am," Kise swiftly cuts her off, point blank. He makes a show of adjusting his tie and ensuring that everything's in place, but Kuroko knows that he's just trying to waste time, to let them teeter over the edge of expectation, and letting them crash down from the mounting hope. "I hope you know that the punishment for refusing to hand over your omega child to the emperor is lynching at the public square." He pauses and a look of mock contemplation crosses over his face. "For everyone." And his bright eyes flicker over to meet Kuroko's own. "Including you."_

_The most heartbreaking sound of his mother sobbing echoes in the house, and Kuroko couldn't sleep that night._

* * *

It isn't a secret that the 104th emperor of the Akashi Empire needed a wife to continue their lineage.

Their dynasty always stood out from the rest of the other rulers from the neighboring countries, since the ones bearing the name Akashi have inherently bloodied crimson hair, murderous eyes, fair skin and a sharp tongue. In the past, thousands of omegas were gathered inside the royal court—_strictly omegas only, no betas allowed, execution on the spot is permissible if one is exposed_—but they were barely touched by the emperors and so, they lived and died futilely without even achieving their true purpose. Needless to say, this makes the number of omegas wandering outside the palace grounds gradually decline over the years, and the ones who've presented as omegas are quickly substituted inside the palace within merely a couple of days.

So Kuroko can't say that he's surprised to be absorbed into the imperial ranks so soon.

It's only been two days after he came into his inheritance as an omega: His knees gave way while he was in the midst of the bustling city with his mother, finalizing their checklist for the week's groceries, and suddenly everything becomes a wet blur to him as his skin gets overly sensitive from a mere graze of cloth, and he reeks of pheromones for miles around. Sticky thighs dripping with strange liquid that he isn't sure of, peaked nipples and harsh whines—and there're faces, faces of hungry alphas and curious betas who see him as fresh meat, and his only saving grace is his mother, who tugs him by the arm and starts running. The heat's horribly unbearable when he reaches home, and he locks himself inside his room to stifle lewd moans against a pillow while rutting against the coarseness of his bed sheets.

Just as soon as the torture's over and he finally gains a semblance of what day it is, Kise Ryota came for him.

"—and Aominecchi's a bit dangerous if you're not careful with him," the blonde babbles, more like talking to himself if anything. "But it's really great to play basketball with him when he's not busy reading those gravure magazines! Ah, but I don't think you'll see Murasakibaracchi anytime soon because he's always stuck in the kitchen—Midorimacchi's the same too, married to his work and his office is his house—"

Kuroko drowns out his voice like how you drown a cat.

By letting it wail and screech until there's nothing left but silence.

His eyes are already weary of his pavilion's magnificence and he just wants to crawl back into one of his old t-shirts and shorts, sitting in front of a whirring fan in the humidity of his room instead of getting all dolled up in glamorous designer kimonos and air-conditioned living areas. The fancy, high windows that encompasses the entirety of the wall in order to give him the perfect view of his own garden shines with slivers of sunlight falling onto the carpet, and there are barely any dust particles that float around in the space, but everything, just _everything_ makes him sick to his stomach and all he ever wants is to go home.

"—it's a bit scary if you go there by yourself; I really don't recommend it because the ones who live there are loonies, I tell you," his keeper prattles on, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disagreement. "The palace is already gracious enough to let them stay there even when they're not useful, not to mention that they're a bunch of ingrates," he adds with a mumble, "So avoiding that area is definitely the best way to go—"

There are heavily blossoming silk cotton trees grown extensively in his courtyard, littered here and there amidst bushes of azaleas, and it paints a charming scene of greens and pinks nestled between stone lanterns. A nearby fish pond with a classical bamboo waterfall mouthpiece serves its purpose to provide some tranquilizing sound for lonesome days, which is almost every day, but even then, there's a lingering emptiness in his heart that can't be nursed. When nightfall comes, it gets worse as servants would fill up the granite containers with some gasoline and put them inside these decorative pieces, washing away the darkness with somber amber glows, before retreating to remove themselves from his presence. His now venerable presence. Left to entertain his own thoughts, his own needs.

Kuroko wants to go home.

_Badly._

"—summer days are especially nice because you get the chance to walk around the courts, but you definitely can't enter them unless you're on some official business," Kise, ceaselessly, drones into other topics within the span of a few minutes. "And then if you feel like it, I can take you to the orchard if you want to eat these delicious summer melons! They have this golden flesh inside," he mimicks their roundness with his hands, squeezing what seemed to be an imaginary fruit, "And it's so sweet you won't even believe that—"

The teen palms his cheek and stares at his bodyguard under half-lidded lashes.

Kise Ryota, 23-years-old. To say that he's a bodyguard is probably an understatement, but officially, that's the title bestowed upon him. Since he found Kuroko, it's his task to guide and take care of him as much as he could before he leaves, whilst juggling in his duties as a minister—of_what?_ Kuroko wonders—and ensuring that no harm will befall one of the emperor's courtesans. He sits in the corner of the room on a particularly unique piece of an armchair, dressed in his customary suit of dreary grey and a pale blue tie, with his cheerful golden eyes trained on Kuroko as though he's the most important person on Earth, and his lips just won't. stop. _moving._

Honestly speaking, Kise can be a bit tiring to handle, especially when he gets all chatty like this. It's one of the first things Kuroko learned within the span of nine days, of course.

"—and I thought that I was lazy! Aominecchi is even lazier than me, but somehow, he always gets his clothes torn up! So Momocchi always scolds him for it because, well, Momocchi is one of the royal designers so she really takes care of her creations and then Aominecchi, the big idiot, always ends up tearing his suit a new hole or two because—"

Kuroko's eyes lazily drift over to the man's bushy tail that peeked from behind him.

A wolf. Peaked white ears and ashen tail.

As an alpha male, Kuroko thinks that it's rather disconcerting to see a childlike, happy-go-lucky adult like Kise. Perhaps it's owing to the fact that Kise was previously a model so he needed to maintain a good rapport. And then somehow, he vanished from the magazine covers and reappeared on the television screen months later during an official ceremony at the palace, and nobody questioned his disappearance. Kise, too, didn't bother offering explanations for it. From the way his silken hair falls over his eyes in carefully trimmed layers, to the way he beams at every glance Kuroko took, he doesn't seem possible enough to exude an air of hostility and authority, unlike the average alphas he's used to seeing on the city roads. If anything, Kise radiates a warming glow of bliss, like melted sunshine and springy marshmallows, and that's how he carries himself around others too.

How strange.

How _very_ strange.

"—Kuroko-sama?"

The pale boy perks up when he hears his name being called.

Within five quick leaps, Kise breaches Kuroko's comfort zone and peers downwards to stare at him curiously, worry lacing his eyes. "Is the heat getting to you? Should I lower the temperature?" His nimble hands make a quick grab for the remote controller and there are a few beeps echoing in the emptiness of the room before he slides the device back on the table again. "There." He sounds accomplished, very much pleased of himself, and has his hands on his hips. "Thank god we're not outside today. Getting a heatstroke would be terrible!"

"Yes, getting a heatstroke would be terrible," Kuroko echoes, and leaves it at that.

If Kise noticed Kuroko's lack of participation in his conversations, he doesn't make an effort to show it. Rather, the blonde allows his eyes to trail after the teen's line of sight, and settles on the plain wall adjacent to them. It's empty, just like his voice.

And then an uncanny smile flits across Kise's lips.

"Yeah, it is."

**「つづく」**

* * *

**Preview:**

_'Sick?' Kise blinks, mildly disturbed at the notion of the boy getting ill when it has only been nine days ever since he entered the imperial grounds. If it's just a normal passing sickness, in which he hopes it is, then some counter-issued medicine is more than enough to cure him. But what if it isn't? No doubt if word gets out that Kuroko's feels unwell, and this piece of news happens to spread through grapevine between the servants living within the walls of the pavilion, and travels even to the ones outside the court… then surely the boy's rivals will take full advantage of the situation. Sabotaging new concubines is a sick hobby of the older ones, but it's their sole form of entertainment. Kise can't bring himself to trust any of the handmaidens or even the helpers in charge of maintaining Kuroko's quarters because anyone can get bribed at __**any **__time and nobody should be trusted at all, even within an inch of their life. And certainly not him too—but then again, he's the most credible one out of the rest._


	2. some of them want to use you

**A/N: **_holy—62 follows just for one chapter is really a big deal for me, and the favorites and comments. (OuO) suddenly i feel immense pressure from everyone's expectations… but thank you for your interest in this story! i'll make some of the details known as the whole story progresses, so we'll see how it goes. also, i'm writing this on the basis of kise as an adult (still an idiot one, nonetheless) but since he's involved in official business, it does call for some seriousness? i hope i don't disappoint though. slow start, but i've already written until chapter 8 and akashi's already made his appearance along the way, so do stick around and enjoy._

* * *

Kise wonders if this boy knows what he's in for.

Seirin High School freshman Kuroko Tetsuya came out as an omega and looked pretty much like a little hatchling. From the way his powdery blue hair sticks out in tufts to the way his skin looks very uncared for, even Kise had his doubts when he first came to pick up the new omega so that he could be included in Akashi's harem. If this was the previous dynasties, where they had a select few periods of parading the new courtesans for the reigning emperor to bestow rankings and titles, then Kise surely would've gotten the brunt of immense scolding for bringing such an ugly creature with him. But really now, with the lack of breeding omegas available in Japan—with no thanks to Akashi's ancestors, he supposes beggars can't really be choosers in the end.

Though it does mean two things:  
(i) there isn't an established system of ranked concubines, and  
(ii) there aren't any more imperial parades in front of the emperor himself.

While others would think that it's a good thing, Kise begs to differ. For one, Kuroko will never possibly get a chance to meet with Akashi personally, unless he catches the man's interest. With Kuroko's lack of presence, he knows this is already heading into a terrible, terrible direction.

In the silence of the night, Kuroko eats his meals soundlessly and picks only the dishes served closest to him. Just from Kise's observation as he stands beside the young concubine, he realizes that it'll take a while before Kuroko himself would begin shifting to accommodate more omega features to add up to what he currently has. Eleven days and still counting after his inheritance, the blonde has seen several miniscule changes in the boy, in which his skin looks rather moisturized by now (maybe it's also thanks to the fact that the servants made sure that he was well-groomed under Kise's orders) and his hair has become a lot tamer than before (perhaps also thanks to the servants, again, for attacking Kuroko's mane with brushes and serums).

_'With a bit more time, he'll probably get more omega traits,'_ Kise speculates deep within his mind, putting a finger to his bottom lip as he continues observing how Kuroko's long sleeves slide downwards to reveal a pale, bony wrist. And how the boy panics slightly when the fine material's about to get dipped into the soy sauce is another enthralling thing to watch. _'He's definitely going to look girlier—well, not that it's hard, he's already feminine enough for a boy anyway. Wonder if it's going to start from his face or his hair.'_ By now, the man has already shifted his weight from one foot to another, and tries to procure images inside his head. _'… mhmm, yeah, definitely starting from his face. Guess I'll let the handmaidens know later so that they'll put in more effort on his skincare regime then.'_

Within less than ten minutes, Kuroko has already placed his chopsticks together and mumbles a short, "Thank you for the meal," before taking his crystal glass of drink. He raises the glittering piece and nestles the rim between painted lips, taking short gulps of water and tiling his head back to expose a pale column of neck and a bobbing throat. It's almost transfixing to watch how proper Kuroko is, despite coming from a scratchy background of an archetypal Japanese family. No need to arrange for intensive lessons on etiquette then, so Akashi will probably be pleased when Kise presents Kuroko whenever the boy has attained perfection in the future.

Though there's one more thing that Kise needs to fix about Kuroko though. It never ceases to amaze him how little the courtesan eats.

Sneaking a glance to look at the sandalwood table, the man's not surprised to see that out of the prosperous number of ninety-nine dishes served to Kuroko, he only nibbled from the three plates closest to him. The remainder of stir-friend pork, sizzling beef cutlets, steaming soupy stews, delicately seasoned vegetables and the likes are all untouched, just like the days before. Arguing proved useless though; Kise knows this because he tried it before. Kuroko has a strong mind of his own, saying that it's such a terrible waste of time, money, and ingredients, before requesting that the kitchen should only bring simple delicacies for each mealtime so that no wastage will occur.

But a tradition's a tradition. And Kise's orders are absolute, no matter what Kuroko says.

So defiant, in his own ways, until the boy upholds his own morals and eats only the barest of essentials before leaving the rest of them to handle the problem on their own.

There's the sound of a chair scraping against the white marble floors and then Kise belatedly discovers that he's too much into a world of his own until he hadn't realized that Kuroko's already leaving, letting his apricot-tinted robes to trail behind him. Little chimes jingle in the air, following the rhythmic motions of the boy's feet, and his pace soon picks up in speed. Not wanting to be left behind, Kise hurriedly catches up with his charge and folds his hands behind his back, following Kuroko through the living room. Together, they pass by the dressing chambers and reached all the way to the bedroom, where Kuroko then proceeds to slump face-forward onto his bed, lying motionless. Maybe re-enacting a dead body, who knows?

A wry smile then crosses Kise's thin lips, and his tail sways in the air.

Cute boy, really. Such a shame that he's the property of Akashi himself.

"Sleeping after eating is bad, Kuroko-sama," he chides softly, opting to stand behind the boy. After all, he can't simply sit anywhere he pleased, even though it doesn't look like Kuroko would mind. A rule is a rule is a _rule_. And Kise's made to follow rules—unless he fancies getting his fingers crushed for disobeying the emperor. "Come on, wake up, wake up. Let's get you bathed so that you'll lose some of that sleepiness, okay?"

Silence.

Kuroko remains still.

Kise stares.

And then came a muffled reply.

"Please give me ten minutes, Kise-san. I feel sick."

_'Sick?'_ Kise blinks, mildly disturbed at the notion of the boy getting ill when it has only been nine days ever since he entered the imperial grounds. If it's just a normal passing sickness, in which he hopes it is, then some counter-issued medicine is more than enough to cure him. But what if it isn't? No doubt if word gets out that Kuroko feels unwell, and this piece of news happens to spread through grapevine between the servants living within the walls of the pavilion, and travels even to the ones outside the court… then surely the boy's rivals will take full advantage of the situation. Sabotaging new concubines is a sick hobby of the older ones, but it's their sole form of entertainment. Kise can't bring himself to trust any of the handmaidens or even the helpers in charge of maintaining Kuroko's quarters because anyone can get bribed at **any** time and nobody should be trusted at all, even within an inch of their life.

And certainly not him too—but then again, he's the most credible one out of the rest.

Also the most _charming_ one, but he'll get back to that later.

Willing himself to scoot closer, Kise tries to elicit a proper response out of the teen. "Kuroko-sama, I'll call a doctor for you right away so please—"

"—it's nothing, please don't call the doctor," Kuroko mildly interjects, albeit sounding a tad bit drained than the usual. A shaky hand waves him off, and Kise's almost tempted to reach over and check his temperature—but grabbing Kuroko's hand will get his limbs severed off, so he fidgets on the spot and keeps his lips tightly pursed when the boy adds, "I'll be fine in a few more minutes, so don't worry yourself."

_'A few more minutes, huh?'_

Kise's almost tempted to disobey, but acting irrationally would get him into more trouble. In some cases, it would pay not to give too much attention to certain concubines. Spoiled beyond imagination, they'd do anything ranging from throwing childish tantrums to feigning sicknesses in hopes that word of their actions would reach the emperor's ears so that he'll take pity and visit them. Oldest tactic in the history, Kise knows, but Kuroko doesn't appear capable enough of such wretched ideas. If anything, the pale boy drowns far too much in his heavy robes and looks perfectly miserable to him. Almost like a creature washed away from the safe hands of his home.

How pitiable.

"… _aaah_, if you say so…" Kise resignedly sighs, ruffling his hair and teasing the tips of his furry ears to alleviate some of the itch to pinch Kuroko's fingers. "I'll tell the servants so that they'll draw you a nice, hot bath then. Want some lavender oil in it to remove your stress too?"

Another pause.

The disenchanted consort merely nods and then stays unmoving. "Yes please, and thank you, Kise-san."

With a practiced little bow—a bit over the top, but it's obviously one of Kise's redeeming trademarks, the blonde grins confidently. "As you wish, no need to thank me." Clipped footsteps then resonate through the bedroom once more as his shoes tread on the polished floors, and he doesn't even bother to toss his charge another glance. He knows. In the end, the sickness of the heart isn't something that anyone can cure, and he certainly won't even bother trying when he doesn't even have the key to Kuroko's heart. Not even the greatest magician can dampen the desire to disappear from within these trapping walls, and he's already witnessed far too many courtesans of Akashi resulting to dangerously unstable methods to keep themselves company.

Ah well.

Kuroko will reach his breaking point, soon enough.

And Kise smiles contentedly at the thought, drawing the doors to a close behind him.

"How miserable."

* * *

**Preview: **

_"Anyway, Kuroko-sama, if you don't have anything planned, let's get you bathed right away. After that you'll have your breakfast—and if you're really interested in going out, then I'll arrange for a car? I can drive you around! You can see the great," he pauses and surreptitiously looks to the side, scratching his cheek, "Um what-they-call-it lake and the __huuuuge__ spirit-something-or-another tree they have up there in the shrine!"_


	3. some of them want to abuse you

**A/N:**

_some of you guys are a bit confused about the a/b/o relationship, and i guess i forgot to clarify it since i'm so used to the way ao3 thinks. thanks for all of the messages on questions and stuffs, i'll try to answer them to the best of my ability!_

_1: since i can't copy/paste links here, you can read more about it on the fanlore wiki page about alpha/beta/omega; they'll give you all the explanation needed b/c i am shit at summarizing. also, kuroko won't turn into a female, so no worries. omega males are just dudes who can get pregnant yay. ;u; i wish that works irl._

_2: also, in this universe (even though it isn't prominent yet), a blank omega will receive the trait of the alpha he/she mated with. for example, if kuroko mates with kise (the wolf), he'll also receive the traits of the wolf, and his child will automatically be born as a wolf. it's easier for the alpha to find an omega to transfer the traits straight away through intercourse, which is why the akashi lineage collects them to ensure that there will be no competition. also, it's easier for them to pass their unique animal trait down to the child-bearer, aka the concubine who gets pregnant, b/c y'know alpha wolf + blank omega = alpha wolf child._

_3: jealous people call these omegas as sluts because they can change their animal traits according to whom they've mated with (also b/c omegas turn prettier with each passing day of their inheritance to have more attractive omega features). for example, if kuroko has the wolf animal trait due to kise's traits, if he goes and mates with another male, then he'll automatically receive the second man's animal trait. this is also easier to see in akashi's palace to prevent the omegas from cheating on him—spot the tail/ears/wings/whatever, automatic beheading for you. _

_4: also, since this is a guilty pleasure fic, there are some story kinks that i'm working on (and not to forget, i am shit with grammar). i'm probably gonna screw up something somewhere sooner or later, damn it. QAQ regardless, thanks for reading!_

_5: what was meant by 'not touching kuroko' refers to the fact that kise can't simply just touch kuroko for his own reasons other than servitude. like, if he wants to pat kuroko's head or something, yeah those things are a complete no-no. if he touches kuroko for the sake of doing something for the boy (shoulder massages, putting on jewelleries, etc.) then it should be all right. it's better to be safe than sorry because if another person catches a whiff of kise's scent on other parts of kuroko's body, then it'll be hell for kise. ;u; let's just hope he doesn't die in future chapters b/c kise is a reckless idiot._

_ALSO, HAPPY BIRTHDAY KUROKO! Special early release because it's the Lunar New Year holiday where i live, so no classes and assignments, so yay updates! all you readers are precious bbys. Thanks to these following reviewers for making my day: **Alumi, pomxxx, Maybe143, The Air, The Undertaker-27, Another observer of the world, YouseiRanka, KuroTaz, clarit, BerryBliss, Akakuro-Fujoshi, TunaForDesert, KuroShiro.19, Shion Amamiya, and a lonesome anonymous Guest! Do keep the reviews coming in! *u***_

* * *

The mornings are always tranquil.

Dispossessed, Kuroko rouses from his sleep and peers from the edge of his goose down comforters. The sunlight filters through the room in thin stripes, falling over the interior decorations and highlighting the abject pieces littered here and there. He still can't get used to the pomegranate reds contrasting against edgy pebble finishing in his room, where the dangling lights resemble lanterns from the late years, and potted plants which failed to install some life overall. Homesickness isn't something that can easily be cured, he knows, but what can he do to mend the ache in his heart?

Such finery couldn't replace his need for cheap cotton shirts and bustling streets.

Kuroko remembers the first time he's ushered into this new living area—his very own pavilion, they called it. Servants dressed in traditional garbs bowed, welcoming him into his new life, and he recalls feeling disoriented when he takes in the new sights and sounds that would soon cement itself as part of his new lifestyle. The palace grounds itself is tremendously huge and his quarters is located somewhere closer to the west walls, while the emperor himself lives in the heart of the imperial city. One could never see the same sight twice, a servant whispered to him.

With thanks to Kise, who has got to be the chattiest person alive on Earth, he tells Kuroko that each courtesan has his or her own 'house' and they live in separate parts in the imperial grounds. _"It helps keeping rivalries to a minimum,"_ he jibes, winking while he's at it.

Due to the decreasing number of courtesans, the blonde also told him that there're plenty of abandoned areas now—some are haunted, he gossips with a scandalized look, and others are just empty because the old ones have been disposed of. 'Disposed of' in what way, Kuroko doesn't know, but he keeps the unsettling feeling away from his insecure heart and tries not mind when he has to balance on granite stepping stones. He makes his way into his traditional-modern hybrid of a house, complete with glazed tiles stemming from an ancient history, and stops to admire several winding columns with their impressive carvings of dragons and phoenixes.

Just why on Earth he recalls this, Kuroko doesn't know, so he tries to pull the covers over his head and rolls over to sleep again. Whatever it is, the teen doesn't like to remember such painful details of his life. But no such luck. As if on cue to torment him even further, Kise enters the bedroom with a flourish. He has this funny sort of way when he walks; in which his steps always seem to be alighted with some form of joy, as though he's never faced pain before, and the silly grin on his face speaks volumes of his permanently cheerful disposition.

"Kuroko-sama, good morning!" he greets merrily, stopping short of a few meters from reaching the teen's bed. "How are you feeling? I hope you've recovered from your sickness last night." He pauses for a split second, a sympathetic haze obscuring his eyes when he sees the state that Kuroko's in. "Or… probably not. Do you want me to call the doctor for you today?"

No doctors. Absolutely no doctors because he doesn't need to be looked at as a wimp, he decides.

"I'm all right," Kuroko repeats the same sentence from the night before, despite knowing it's a lie. Rustling sounds follow soon enough as he untangles his body from the sheets. No use trying to sleep in when his attendant is a faithful dog—the wolf ears and tails are just decorations to hide his true nature—and he spots Kise attentively staring at him with the intensity of an eco-friendly fluorescent lightbulb. "… is there something you need?"

Upon being caught off guard, the man jumps back and sheepishly rubs his head, grinning.

How odd, Kuroko thinks, but he lets it slide. His gut intuition tells that something is definitely _off_ **somewhere** inside his bodyguard though, but he doesn't seem to be exhibiting any symptoms on the outside.

"Ah, um, well," Kise starts with a series of thoughtful stutters, before he finally puts his mind to it and looks at Kuroko pointedly. "It's already the tenth day and I know that most courtesans don't want to step out into the sunshine because they don't want to get suntanned, but that's why we have lotions with SPF 130! Just give me the word, Kuroko-sama, and I'll get the servants to bring it in for you!"

… sometimes, Kuroko's inclined to believe that God made some people beautiful, at the expense of having their intelligence taken away. Can't have everything now, can they?

The teen places both his feet on the fur-lined carpet splayed under his bed and gets up, stretching a little. Kuroko's nightgown, an old-fashioned sleeping robe made from satin, glides over his skin as he loosens his limbs and he shivers at the foreign feeling. Silks, satins and cottons are definitely too different from one another, and now he regrets doubting his mother's words when they shopped together. Not that Kuroko will ever see her again… and he quickly goes back to the topic in hand to avoid melancholy. Kise. While he doesn't want to appear rude to his bodyguard, who's obviously trying his best to make Kuroko's stay as comfortable as possible, it gets a bit taxing when Kise seems to be suffering from a slight decline in his mental capability. What makes it worse is that his tail wags back and forth, mirroring a puppy—and at times like this, Kuroko hates having a soft spot for adorable, doting little animals like dogs.

No. _Especially_ dogs.

Finally heaving a sigh, he looks at Kise straight in his eyes. "I don't know where to go from here," he says, and decides that it's the best excuse he can manage for now. "I don't want to get lost in the palace. A meteor might fall and hit me if I'm not careful enough." A bit dramatic, but it's suitable for people like Kise.

"A… meteor?" the tall blonde repeats, his slender brows hiking up higher and higher by the second, now close enough to his hairline. While it seems to be that Kuroko has succeeded in making a complete fool of himself, he's also somewhat relieved to find out that Kise isn't as stupid as he looks. "I don't think this place is strategically located enough for a meteor to land, so you don't have to worry about it! Probably not the right season either!" he waves it off with a small laugh.

And then Kuroko frowns. Maybe not.

"Anyway, Kuroko-sama, if you don't have anything planned, let's get you bathed right away. After that you'll have your breakfast—and if you're really interested in going out, then I'll arrange for a car? I can drive you around! You can see the great," he pauses and surreptitiously looks to the side, scratching his cheek, "Um what-they-call-it lake and the _huuuuge_ spirit-something-or-another tree they have up there in the shrine!"

Now this is where it gets complicated for Kuroko. While other courtesans would've jumped for joy at the opportunity, he's adamant to back away from them.

"I'll… think about it in my bath."

"Roger!" Kise is all too ready to please, as he sets about bustling from the vanity back to him, and kneels down in front of the boy without hesitation. "Please lift your foot, Kuroko-sama," he chirps, and Kuroko does that without a hitch.

Cold hands and fingers skitter from under his soles and over his toes, and the boy resists a shudder prickling up his spine. It's always the same thing every day—anklets, jewelleries, bath, food, lazing around, food, more lazing around, food, even more lazing around, food, and then a shower before he's off for the night. Ten days ago, Kuroko would've been stuttering and denying Kise for getting down on his knees just to fasten some bejewelled anklets, but after being fiercely reprimanded and told not to lift a single finger, he's relatively used to the fact that Kise will do _anything_ for him—even the fussy task of putting the chiming anklets on him, and that's that.

Doesn't mean he has to get used to the feeling of the man's fingers brushing over his ankles and gripping his feet though.

"All done." Kise gets up from his position on the floor and stands tall again, adjusting his jacket as he does. Today's suit is a navy blue one, Kuroko notices, and it's obviously yet another expensive pair because it's been pressed to perfection, complemented with a starched white shirt and a striped necktie sitting where it should be. Tall, strong, and well-built alphas like the blonde are gorgeous creatures to look at; especially considering the circumstance that he's a former model, so it's a given fact that he can make anything he wears look good. He tries to imagine Kise wearing a bin bag—those ugly black sort so that he'll look dastardly ugly no matter what, but the man steps away from him and beams goofily. "Can we get going now?"

Kuroko blinks, distracted. "Um, yes, we should."

The dense weight circling his ankles reflects the heaviness in his heart, and it almost feels like those jadeite anklets are just fancy shackles to prevent his escape from the palace. With each step, shrill ringing sounds echo throughout his pavilion and he swears that they're the most obnoxious thing to wear, albeit deigned as a gift from His Majesty to Kuroko. In those days, he had a reputation for being the least noticed student in Seirin until his teachers forgot about him from time to time. But now, courtesy of these chimes, everyone lowers his or her chin in respect, everyone ceases to meet him in the eyes, and _everyone_ knows who he is wherever he strides.

His Majesty's property.

Don't touch him.

Don't look at him.

Don't even breathe the same air as him.

Reverence isn't what he sought for, but this is what he gets in the end.

"A human's adaptability is an amazing thing," Kise disrupts Kuroko's thoughts with a lingering look from the corners of his eyes, all sultry tainted with cheekiness. His long arms are crossed behind his head, rumpling his suit, but he doesn't care much for it. All the blonde does is to match his pace with Kuroko's as languidly as possible, and smiles away. "It's okay, Kuroko-sama, you can get used to this. The first time I got into the palace, I nearly got myself marked as shooting target practice. It's so horrible," he whines, "But thankfully I didn't get into any trouble because Murasakibaracchi came to my rescue."

Shooting target practice?

Wait, what?

Kuroko nearly does a double-take when the revelation dawns upon him. "What did you do to get yourself into that kind of situation?" he asks softly, almost afraid if he's breaching into a sensitive topic. "It must've been serious."

Much to his surprise though, Kise barks with laughter, his eyes forming little upturned crescents as moisture gathers at the corners of his lashes. Fingers wiping away at the tears that threatened to slip down his cheeks, the man continues smiling as he turns to face his keeper.

"Nope, I just looked at Akashicchi in the eyes."

Their walk to the bathroom feels so far away now, like they're located in another time and dimension, and Kuroko can't help himself but to feel a piercing chill jutting from within his ribcages. A sickening, twisting feeling swirls from the depth of his stomach and he knows he didn't hear it wrong—_Akashicchi_, Akashi the emperor tried to use him as some form of target practice, just because Kise looked at him right in the eyes. Kuroko's fingertips twitch and before he realizes it, cold sweat trickles down his nape, drenching the neckline of his bedroom robe even in the chill of his quarters.

Kuroko doesn't turn to look at the man—he doesn't think he can even manage to get to the bathroom at this rate, but it's all right.

Because Kise's smile is more disturbing than helpful, if anything.

* * *

**Preview for Chapter 4: **

_"But you were born for it," Kise corrects him, determined to make the boy see everything else in a new light. Besides, he supposes Akashi hasn't had one like Kuroko before; someone so plain and ordinary, and the palace is so punishing and vengeful, so he takes delight in wanting to know how Kuroko will turn out in the end. To break others or to be broken by others. "You're only wasting your chance, Kuroko-sama. Fight everyone else and become the one who'll be crowned as the empress."_

(i swear to god the following chapters get even better, if not, i'll cut my finger... nails. i think.)

**Preview for Chapter 5:**

_Kuroko cowers in the corner, pulling his body into a tight ball. Everything's a horrible nightmare, everything's a terrible dream that's a figment of his overactive imagination, everything's part of some light novels that he used to read, everything about the emperor's cruelty and his life and his inheritance and his fate—just **everything** is a sick, sick creation. Yet it doesn't wipe the slates clean. The boy still feels the biting coldness of the morning on his legs, and he pulls his knees closer to his chest._


	4. sweet dreams are made of these

**_A/N:_**_ i'm blown away from the sheer amount of readers following and favouriting this fic. 61 favs and 111 (ayyy 111!) follows is a big deal to me, really. ;u; thanks for your support, everyone! though i would love to have some reviews as well, because i'd like to hear your feedback, comments, thoughts, or just general fangirling along with me. regardless, really, thanks so much to Belle'Masque, Akakuro-Fujoshi, a Guest, EclipseKuran, YouseiRanka, and Alumi for their reviews! /prays to the distant tofu god that akashi worships so that she'll get some chatty reviews too _

* * *

_"Once upon a time, the procession is really different from this," Kise says in the silence of the car, clapping his hands together like how an excited child would. Kuroko knows that the man is trying his best to cheer him up right after wrenching him away from his family, but its impact is barely felt. Nevertheless, the blonde doesn't lose his spirit and goes on with vigour, miniscule starlight shining in his eyes. "I heard that instead of us alphas coming over to fetch you omegas, it was the complete otherwise. Omegas from all over Japan will come to the palace and get examined by the—uh, whatever they are—and after they get the approval, their family's houses will get renovated—aah, courtesy of the emperor, of course. Kinda like 'thanks for giving us your kid' or something?"_

_Kuroko nods._

_Not wanting to stop his fabulous tale, Kise obviously takes it as a sign to go on. "Because they're like the in-laws of the emperor, so their social standing must be different from the others. The emperor sets the date for the marriage, and when the day comes, there'll be parades on the road when the brides go away from their home! A sea of people will be on the roads, all the way to the palace," he gushes with enthusiasm, spreading his arms wide enough for Kuroko to catch a glimpse of it from the corners of his eyes. "It's so majestic, don't you think?"_

_"Yes."_

_He doesn't really care anymore._

_"That's what I thought too! Maaaan, I wish I'm an omega so that I can just live in the palace without doing anything," he whines like a child that needs to be pacified. "When I was around your age, I thought I was definitely going to be an omega because I looked so girly. And then I found out that I was an alpha instead—but hey, at least I'm a kickass wolf! Got a keen sense of smell and I can run real fast too. So glad I'm not a beta, I don't want to inherit those normal, boring animal traits. I mean, who wants to be a house cat, right? Definitely not me!"_

_"That's nice."_

_He feels detached from this conversation._

_"But anyway, don't you wonder why we don't do fancy parades like that anymore nowadays?"_

_"Yes."_

_He's getting too tired to think now._

_"Well, you know that there're lesser and lesser omegas around here, right? Can't afford to be picky anymore—gotta get 'em all, don't you think?" he jokes, probably making a reference to that game Kuroko once played before, but it invokes no reaction at all. No matter how disheartened Kise is, he's a very professional man and doesn't let it show, so he clears his throat and tries again. "So there's a new edict that only the ones that the emperor really trust should go out and get these omegas instead. It cuts down on time since we can pick up an omega in a snap! Sometimes Aominecchi—aah, he's another alpha, a panther, super pervy, one over ten not recommended as a friend, especially if you're an omega because he'll bone you—aaaand… where was I?"_

_"Picking up an omega."_

_His brain is on automatic and he looks out of the window._

_There are blurs of colours before his eyes, like a watercolour splash of sombre greys and diluted blues, before their car passes through what seems to be a large gate and then his eyes widen._

_Kuroko feels his heart gradually slip to a halt._

_"Oh, thanks! So Aominecchi sometimes gets dispatched with me because he's such a lecher and he can't keep his hands to himself, but I'm there to save the day. But then again, Aominecchi's so busy nowadays because of official stuffs so… since I have loads of free time, I'm covering his part."_

_The Forbidden City is nothing like what Kuroko's read before._

_His history teacher once said that there's a whole new realm within those thick walls, where it's fit only for the royals to live in, and few who made it inside would divulge the details of the majestic interior. The Bentley smoothly drives past saluting guards, who stare blankly at the car as though they know who's inside, and Kuroko sees a vast land behind them. The skies are still blue and the grasses are obviously green, but the atmosphere winds him up, makes him tense as though he's been whisked into an alternate dimension. Without realizing it, his spine straightens as he peers curiously at the window like a dog yearning to be released outside._

_"… Kuroko-sama?"_

_The teen faintly registers that his bodyguard's trying to get his attention, but he can't tear his eyes away from the sight. It's his new house—land, whatever it is—and he gets this choking feeling in his throat when he spots a few mountains looming in the distance. The sidewalks are paved with russet cobblestones and exquisite shrubs encompass them from left and right, and if he squints hard enough, he can see a few horsemen trotting along in the distance, wearing their tight-fitting uniforms. Blurs of crimson smear his vision every now and then, and Kuroko wonders what they are since they're hidden between the verdant trees growing everywhere, but when the forests soon give way, it's then he calls the whole Forbidden City as a ridiculously structured maze._

_"Aah, that? I know it looks kinda huge and all, but that's the square where Aka—"  
_

And then Kuroko wakes up, drenched in cold sweat.

All he remembers are thick, winding pillars of red, and blurry skies in the horizon.

* * *

"You shouldn't be sleeping until the late evenings, you know."

Kise has done nothing but to admonish and chide Kuroko left and right, as he stands still and watches the maids scrub the tiny boy raw. Half drowning in a large, claw-footed tub, he swishes around in the warm soapy water as an uncharacteristic vanilla scent perfumes the air, heady, almost intoxicating the wolf. Between the rough hands of the ladies, he spots a cheap bar soap being tossed around, and it wrenches a deep sigh from his lungs. Kise did question the maidens once—"Why didn't you use the bath lathers?"—and their replies are nothing short but a choir of, "Because Kuroko-sama says that the vanilla soap reminds him of a milkshake in the city," before bowing in reverence.

So that's that. That's how it is anyway.

Whatever Kuroko wants, Kuroko gets.

In exchange for his freedom, of course.

"I know what I did was wrong." His powdery blue hair shivers lightly in the wind and Kise's golden eyes widen in surprise when he spots the boy bowing his head low, asking for forgiveness. "Sleeping in the evening left me dizzy. I won't be doing it anymore, Kise-san." Then he promptly lifts his chin when one of the girls straightens his back, running her callused fingers all over his hair as she works the shampoo into his scalp, eliciting a muffled groan from Kuroko. "P-please do it a bit more gently, Fuyutsuki-san."

"But your hair is still so coarse and untamed, Kuroko-sama," she answers with a feral glint in her eyes. Hell bent on making his hair soft, she squeezes more shampoo into her palm and the bottle wheezed as the last few squirts came out, smothering them dutifully on his head. "We have to tidy you up in case His Majesty summons you, of course! Can't have his fingers caught in your hair when romance happens," she winks roguishly.

Water sloshes over the tips of the tub and falls over the raised platform, and Kise takes a few steps backwards so that his shoes wouldn't be soiled by them. He hides a wry smile at their work and decides that yes, he has picked some of the best attendants for Kuroko. _'Midorimacchi is gonna be so proud of me for not messing it up this time,'_ he thinks, and admires how hardworking Kuroko's handmaids are. They soap him up, every inch glossy, and they lift multiple shower heads attached to the sides of the dew-shaped tub, washing away and draining the dirty water. One elder lady twists a nearby tap open and fills the tub with more warm water once again as another works some conditioner on Kuroko's hair.

It leaves the boy reminiscent of a washed kitten, Kise thinks. He's got the sulky, pouty look on his face and his pinkish cheeks are all puffed out as they twist and toil over him, trying their best to cleanse him of dirt and whatnot. The bathing experts have everything under control though; within minutes, they rinsed off the excess and tugged him to stand up, as they ran fluffy white towels over his limbs and torso in joint effort to dry him. Some of the ladies walked out to roll in a trolley, stacked with perfumed beads, powders, oils, hairdryer, comb, serums, and the blonde spots Kuroko stepping down the platform with a roll of his eyes, perhaps weary of this process.

Normally, he'd leave his lips sealed through the dressing process and never bothered to speak unless he has a question. But today, while a servant patted powders over his arms and slicked some floral-scented oil up the ridge of his neck, Kuroko stares straight at Kise and tilts his head to the side.

"Kise-san, I'll never leave this place, will I?"

It's a question, but it lacks an inquisitive tone when Kuroko says it. The blue-haired teen looks like he knows what the blonde will say, but he just wants affirmation from the man himself. Kise has nothing to hide, his hands are clean from bloodstains, but when this courtesan looks at him in that way—lowered lashes, a despondent glaze reflected in his eyes, and all so silent… it leaves him feeling guilty, as though he's the one who was accountable for caging him in this gilded labyrinth. So he wrings his hands and takes a few moments to observe how docile Kuroko's become over the days, how he raises his arms without a word when Fuyutsuki pats him with a fluffy puff and scents him all over with vanilla and lavenders, how _empty_ his shell has become without a single hint of a soul sleeping inside his ribs.

So the wolf does his best to grin and not bare his fangs. "No. You'll never leave this place, Kuroko-sama."

That's fact.

Kuroko lowers his head and lets a manicured hand dust a layer of powder on the bridge of his nose.

"But once you're the Grand Empress, then you can do whatever you like."

That's also fact.

It makes the teen raise his head and his lips part with the weight of a half-formed question.

"You can't ever leave here, this palace, the Imperial Grounds, but when you have enough power in the court, then you can go in and out if you want," Kise amends himself with a nod. "But I don't think it's recommended because there'll be loads of people who'll try to assassinate you—it's dangerous." He swallows down a few more warning words, sentences, information, _everything_ because he wants to see how far Kuroko will stretch his fingers to brush against his much-yearned freedom, and offers a sedate smile. "Become Akashicchi's favourite and more doors will be open to you, Kuroko-sama."

"But I—"

A procession of robes bursts through the bathroom and Kuroko whirls around as some servants brought in rolling racks. While modern clothing is allowed in the palace grounds, it's highly unbecoming for one of the emperor's lovers to be dressed in them; hence Kise had ordered them beforehand not to allow those clothes to become part of Kuroko's wardrobe. So it's all silks, satins, French laces, heavy brocades and glittery organza fabrics that are dipped in palettes of varying colours, and they look like the wings of hundreds of butterflies as they flutter about. It's always quite a parade when it comes to clothes, and different styles will be unveiled at different parts of the days, so Kise enjoys seeing the air of confusion on Kuroko's face as he tries to decide on one of Momocchi's creations. The girl has an insatiable aptitude for high fashion, bless her.

Within minutes, he points at one in random; it's a gentle amber hue when they bring it out, a gradient that spreads to whiteness at the neckline, and verdant amaryllises adorn the hems like twining vines. They wasted no time in slipping it on Kuroko's body, tightening the sash and fashioning his short hair with a flowery _tsumami kanzashi_ by the side, and Kise thinks it takes all of Kuroko's willpower not to feel like he's a real-life dress up doll for the girls to play with. The boy seems a lot more reticent now, letting them put the final adjustments on his body, and Kise takes this as a chance to continue.

"Come on, Kuroko-sama," he coaxes, swishing his tail from side to side with a teasing glance. "What's the use of entering the harem if you're not going to try and impress the emperor? Lots of people out there would kill to have your spot, you know?"

Dismayed, Kuroko bites back. "I didn't ask for this."

"But you were born for it," Kise corrects him, determined to make the boy see everything else in a new light. Besides, he supposes Akashi hasn't had one like Kuroko before; someone so plain and ordinary, and the palace is so punishing and vengeful, so he takes delight in wanting to know how Kuroko will turn out in the end. To break others or to be broken by others. "You're only wasting your chance, Kuroko-sama. Fight everyone else and become the one who'll be crowned as the empress."

"I'm not interested to be one."

"But you'll go crazy if you do nothing about it."

At this sort of talk, Kuroko appears reluctant and the servants took it as a cue to disperse themselves immediately. They packed up his belongings and removed their presence within minutes, leaving the two of them to stand around in the coolness of the bathroom.

"I don't want to be here, Kise-san," the concubine murmurs under his breath as his shoulders droop. "I don't know how the palace works and I don't have anything."

Ah, that's where you're wrong, Kise's lips moved in time while he inches closer to his charge. At his sudden proximity, Kuroko stumbles upon his steps as he tries to back away, but the wolf follows each step with a disarming smile and lowers his head until he can stare into the boy's eyes.

"But you have what others don't, Kuroko-sama," he coos. "You have me."

* * *

**Preview for Chapter 5:**

_"But you're going to get sicker and sicker and I don't want that," Kise whines, curling his lips into an unbecoming pout. It's not supposed to look cute on an adult alpha male, but with how his ears are lowered down and his tail tapping restlessly by his side, he definitely pulls off the look. "Come on, Kuroko-sama... You should really see one. Or at least," he contemplates, "Get some full rest today. You didn't get enough sleep, remember?"_


	5. this is real love

**a/n:** _haven't updated one in a long while, so i'll leave you guys with a good preview for the next chapter._

* * *

The morning mist has barely spread its blanket into his gardens when Kuroko wakes up.

He thinks it's the eleventh—or maybe twelfth day that he's been here, and Kise's right. The startling emptiness of the palace was about to feast on him and he could feel his willpower drained with every beat of his heart. So last night, before he lowers his head on the downy pillow, before Kise pulls the sheets up to his chest, before the lights get switched off, _before_ he closes his eyes, Kuroko devises a plan to get away from the pavilion. Aware of his lack of presence, the boy wants to utilize it to the fullest, especially when the anklets are off.

The mornings are heavy with mist and dewdrops, with barely any light penetrating through the thicket of shrubs and trees, and after minute observations with calculations, he thinks he can slip through the patrolling guards and escape through the back gates, where the beta servants lived.

Settling on the plan is easier than acting it out.

He ties his sleeping robe tightly around his tiny waist and hikes the rest of the flowing materials under the sash. Fingers plucking at the locks of the sliding door at the corner of his bedroom, Kuroko slowly squeezes through the opened crack and doesn't forget to close it again, just like how it was the night before. The dim lights provided by the stone lanterns serve as a guiding beacon for him to tread on the stepping stones lightly, avoiding the windows where there might be watchful eyes, and passing through a stretch of grass before finally entering his supposed 'backyard' of the expansive pavilion.

Kuroko's never been here before; he hasn't taken a tour of his living quarters, unlike any other courtesans, and the regret wells up in his heart when his eyes flicker from left to right. A tarnished, somewhat crumbling building sits in the distance, foreboding, and he doesn't feel like approaching the place because the darkness has settled in considerably without the aid of the lanterns. Dead trees with their wiry branches loom over the roof that leads to the deepest edges of his gardens, and Kuroko belatedly wonders why the servants haven't bothered to maintain this section of his pavilion. Perhaps his imagination is getting the better of him, or the chills shimmying up his spine are something else altogether, so he goes with his gut instinct and chose to inch closer to his right.

The winding path that slips in and out of his garden tires him more than he can imagine, and he's grateful for the opaque shadows of the blooming cotton silk trees to provide him cover when he spots a guard strolling a few meters away. The man's slightly bigger than Kuroko (obviously a beta, because no alpha can be trusted near the emperor's courtesans unless they have his approval like Kise) and there are branching antlers sticking out from the bottom of his peaked cap. Presumably a stag, judging from how lethal those things can be, and Kuroko's somewhat thankful that he likes to watch the animal channels with his mom during the weekends.

So Kuroko waits in the shadows for the man to pass—not without the guard yawning, rubbing his eyes, ripping out a fart and then yawning again, before Kuroko holds his breath and lets his feet carry him as fast as they could.

Underneath the mosaic of leaves overhead, the boy looks around warily in case of anyone tailing him, especially the keen Kise, and lets out a sigh of relief when there's no one around. The exit should be close by now, he thinks, because he's accidentally discovered a shortcut instead of passing through the servants' quarters, and that by itself is a good thing. God is definitely on his side, though he doesn't know which God, he's thankful all the same. Scurrying like a thief, he follows the nearby high wall and presses his back against it like some bad action movie when he slides closer to the unattended gates.

For a supposedly prized courtesan, this is some lousy security, Kuroko thinks, but he can't afford to complain when their laxness granted him escape.

The iron-wrought gates barely creak when the pale teen pushes them open, and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip to hide his smile as he stealthily went beyond his boundaries. No lights shine down on him and no alarms ring when Kuroko sets his foot firmly on the ground outside his quarters, and although he knows now isn't the time to rejoice, he can't help but to toss a look behind his shoulders. Darkness beyond the gates, which held his new house, feels like a whirlwind of negative energy that's trying to suck him in, but Kuroko steels his heart and refuses to submit to his fate obediently. So he curls his lips and knits his brows together, giving a look dripping with resentment, and moves away from the place.

Outside, there still isn't any improvement in lighting, save for some vague blurs of white, in which Kuroko supposes that they come from the gaps of street lamps here and there. He doesn't know where to go from here onwards because he got to this pavilion by car, and he knows it's a ridiculous feat to try and run away without a solid strategy, so the boy makes up his mind to stay close to the walls in case it can provide him some cover as he tries to hatch an escape plan. Following the lights, Kuroko trudges on the ground and then prematurely stops in his tracks.

_"—this is the fourth one—"_

_"—too cruel, what would others think—"_

He hears voices and they can never be a good thing.

Two male serving boys, clad in their cotton garbs and bandannas, are carrying what seems to be a white stretcher. Fortunately for Kuroko, they don't seem to notice him even as he stands there impassively, watching them, and they carried on with their conversation as loud as before.

"I'm really getting tired of disposing them," one of the boys groans, sweat streaking his face as he hefts one of the ends of the stretcher. He looks to be in his teen years, just like Kuroko, but his muscled arms told him that the boy does a lot more heavy lifting than the average man. "I mean, seriously," he calls out over his shoulders to his partner, who rolls his eyes; "He goes through a frenzy and then bam, they end up dead. What's the point of having omegas if he's gonna keep killing them like this? Heck, he should leave some if he can't appreciate them!"

"Careful—the walls have ears, you dumbass," the other hisses, gritting his teeth. "I know what you mean, this—" he looks down on the stretcher, and it's only then Kuroko realizes that a thin cotton cloth covers something long, almost like a body, _please don't let it be a dead body_; "This is sick. I don't agree with his methods but he knows what he's doing for the country. We haven't had a crisis for ages, the crime rates are low, our economy is good, the people are happy… but y'know, I don't wanna be the parent to a kid who gets to be killed after a one night stand with him."

"Just because he's the emperor, he gets to do all sorts of reckless stuffs," the first one spits out, tightening his hold on the carrier until his knuckles bled white. "I regret working here. The pay's good but I can't take this anymore. I don't wanna be responsible for transporting his shit whims. What if karma gets back at me and when I'm married and I have a kid and it's an omega child, then he or she'll get taken away by the emperor, and y'know—dead because of this?"

His partner makes noncommittal sounds and continues slogging along the road, all the while shaking his head.

As much as Kuroko doesn't want to acknowledge it, he's already picked up the contextual clues faster than he should've. The thing on the stretcher is a dead body. The emperor killed one of the omegas—one of his courtesans. Questions flooded Kuroko's mind and his fingers tremble with the thought of death, but why? Why would Akashi kill one of his wedded mates? Just for sick fun, like how Kise was almost made into target practice? Horrified is the tamest word that can be used to describe his sheer, undiluted terror right now. If this is how things work in the palace, then… he desperately needs to get back to his pavilion. **Now**. Before anyone else finds out about this and lets it become the death of him.

Willing himself to look at the death procession one last time, Kuroko gives the concubine with an appalling death one last respectful nod—then the gentle morning wind blows, sweeping the cotton sheet off the body.

And his eyes widen.

A strangled sound attempts to escape his lips but Kuroko hurriedly bites down on his robe's sleeve, trying to ebb the frantic urge to vomit. He's never felt this fearful for his life before, so helplessly afraid and petrified until his legs refused to walk away from the sight, and it takes all of Kuroko's self-will not to faint right there and then. His bearings are already off; head giddy, eyes blurring, thighs shivering, and a wrenching feeling pulls on his guts, rendering him immobile. Kuroko covers his face and wants to forget what he's seen, but the image's forever imprinted onto the backs of his retinas and even when he closes his eyes, he sees the same thing over and over and over and _over_ again.

Burnt to charcoals, he can't even tell if it was formerly a man or a woman. Eyes popped open, mouth eternally frozen in a soundless scream, outstretched fingers like they're yearning to grab on to salvation. Tufts of familiar-looking tails tinged with fiery shades trail on the ground, dragged along, and a plume of feather drifts into the breeze, flying away. The two servants wince at the sight but they squared their shoulders and hurried along the path furtively, hoping that nobody else would see the gruesome sight.

Kuroko cowers in the corner, pulling his body into a tight ball. Everything's a horrible nightmare, everything's a terrible dream that's a figment of his overactive imagination, everything's part of some light novels that he used to read, everything about the emperor's cruelty and his life and his inheritance and his fate—just _everything_ is a sick, sick creation. Yet it doesn't wipe the slates clean. The boy still feels the biting coldness of the morning on his legs, and he pulls his knees closer to his chest.

He doesn't get up to leave until the sun breaks across the horizon, and he fears the strength of his own loneliness.

_"A human's adaptability is an amazing thing,"_ Kise's voice repeats in his head like a broken tape, and Kuroko staggers back into his pavilion.

* * *

"Your breakfast is going to get cold if you don't eat it soon!"

The boy jerks out of his stupor and stares at Kise blankly.

As if he's trying to make a point, the blonde nudges the tray stacked on a tiny table, and he repeats. "Breakfast, Kuroko-sama?"

Today, it's breakfast in bed. He can't seem to summon the willpower of slipping out from under the covers anymore, and it looks like the blonde has taken pity on him so he brings in the breakfast and waits for him to eat. There are simple dishes for today; porridge, some salted fish, miso soup, and green tea. Nothing grand unlike the usual, a typical ration for a person who has taken to the bed, Kuroko realizes, but he's thankful for them all the same. Not wanting to disappoint the blonde, he picks up his chopsticks and pokes into the dishes, mumbling a humble, "Thank you for the food."

Kise doesn't reply to that, but he drags a chair from the nearby study and observes Kuroko attentively. "Kuroko-sama, you really don't look well," he begins his usual preaching, but this time on a more sombre note. "Maybe you really need to see a doctor. I'll just call the palace physician to get you some medicine? If you get sick and the whole palace finds out, you're not going to be the only one in trouble, you know."

Between mouthfuls of porridge, Kuroko shakes his head. He doesn't need a doctor; the emperor does.

"I know that you're probably going to get mad at me if I call the doctors in anyway." The man scratches his nape, a pained flicker passing through his eyes. "If you don't try to get better soon on your own, this will definitely drag you down. Who knows, it might affect the quality of the children that you're going to produce." At this, Kuroko makes a face and Kise chuckles, shaking his head amusedly. "There's a story I heard from one of the old maids serving Akashicchi, about a concubine who never got any better because she was too absorbed in her own misery. Do you want to hear it, Kuroko-sama?"

"If Kise-san is trying to make me feel guilty, go ahead," Kuroko says, lowering his chin.

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, Kuroko-sama, it's just my job to look after you," Kise weakly protests, but the teen knows he's right from the way the blonde's tail becomes rigid from its position behind him. "It's not a good story either because it has a tragic ending... ahem, let me rephrase that. Let's just say that too much of her grief made the reigning Grand Empress irritated during that time because she doesn't even try to live anymore, so an order was made for her limbs to be separated from her body."

The concubine almost drops his chopsticks, but he manages a steady face and apathetically listens despite the protests of his heart.

"What happens in the end is really tragic, Kuroko-sama," the wolf says, but in Kuroko's honest opinion, everything in the imperial grounds is tragic to begin with. "After the guards caught her and cut off her arms and legs, doctors came to patch her up so that she won't die. Her rank was demoted and she's sent away to the palace near the Round Garden—that's really far away from here, if you don't know. The one sent along to take care of her is the man who was in charge of the entire concubines in general, the Minister of Internal Royal Affairs, or the MIRA for short." Then he shrugs, looking powdery pale for some reasons. "I've heard rumours that she's still alive until today, but you know, they're just rumours."

At the ending of the story, Kuroko looks away and chews on his bottom lip. "Rumours are there for a reason." Just like how he's seen the charred remains of an omega this morning, and the thought gnaws away on his sanity.

"And I'd rather not have you start the next beheading, if you know what I mean. If you keep refusing medical treatment, you're going to get sicker and sicker and I don't want that," Kise whines, curling his lips into an unbecoming pout. It's not supposed to look cute on an adult alpha male, but with how his ears are lowered down and his tail tapping restlessly by his side, he definitely pulls off the look. "Come on, Kuroko-sama... You should really see one. Or at least," he contemplates, "Get some full rest today. You didn't get enough sleep, remember?"

Enough sleep?

Kuroko perks up and swallows down the porridge and fish, tasting the lingering saltiness on his tongue. "I slept well, Kise-san. I've already rested this morning."

But Kise's eyes are boring holes into him, and his smile is painfully static.

"What're you talking about, Kuroko-sama? We took a morning walk together earlier, right?"

* * *

**Preview for chapter 6:  
**_"Sorry, Kuroko-sama," he says, and all traces of the foolishly indulgent man is gone. He stands there, cold and domineering, with a practiced expression of refrain. "Midorimacchi sent me a mail. You've been hereby summoned by His Majesty Akashi Seijuro, the 104th Emperor of Japan, to accompany him this afternoon. Please finish your meal as we need to prepare you for your summoning as soon as possible."_


End file.
