Author's note: Hello. This is another Kuroko no Basket fanfic from me :D I've only written two one-shots that are mainly about everyday life, but suddenly THIS appeared inside my head. Oh lol.

From now, I'm aiming to try for a fanfic that needs a higher rating :) NO - nothing M-rated, but maybe a little tension here and there.

As usual, you may find some inconsistancy when I use names. Some I will call by their surnames, others I will use their first names. Whichever I feel is comfortable. Just noting you.

If there are any readers who are waiting for the next chapter of my pokemon fanfic, please wait. I've got writer's block on that one, but I'll try to continue it as soon as I can.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

He was famous.

He was feared.

He was full of forbidden power.

He was the Bad Boy, and he was Hanamiya Makoto. The very name would send chills down anyone's spine, and whoever played against him would soon face a fate worse than death.

He always got what he wanted. If he didn't, then people were screwed, even his teammates.

The best way to keep things quiet and simple would be to give what he wants. Then he would just leave in peace, with everything intact.

However, problems occurred when he wanted something that was near impossible. No, he did not want the moon, or the stars. It wasn't the universe, either. Or the whole world.

He wanted one person - Kiyoshi Teppei.

His teammates didn't understand at first, and were confused when they heard Makoto order them to bring Kiyoshi because he wanted to see him.

"Are you deaf? Bring Kiyoshi Teppei to me - right now."
The emphasis on the last two words was more than enough to make them run out of school before classes were over. But when they returned in the evening, there was no Kiyoshi.

Screams of pain from several boys could be heard that night from the school gym.

Makoto decided that his teammates were just stupid. Too stupid to understand the feelings of desire - and a thirst that can be quenched only by one.

Then what to do? He should go get what he wants himself.

"Teppei-chan? So our little boy has a friend?"
Makoto snorted impatiently as an elderly woman answered the door. He could tell she was almost blind, and even with spectacles, she was squinting.

"Of course. I am a fellow basketball player, lovely madam."

The woman's hearty laugh was a pain to hear, but Makoto managed to sweet-talk himself inside Kiyoshi's house.

"He's not back from school, yet. Would you like something to drink while you wait? Kiyoshi's room is just over there."

"That would be wonderful." He said as he crossed the hallway from the front door. Someone coughed in the living room, and Makoto snuck a glance before grabbing the doorknob. An elderly man was rubbing the leaves of a small plant with a cloth. When he spotted Makoto looking at him, he smiled.

Makoto hurried inside Kiyoshi's room and made a face. What boring grandparents he had. Really amusing. Sighing, he looked around.

Kiyoshi kept his room surprisingly neat, unlike most teenage boys. Tidy. Makoto never cleaned up his room - he had a housekeeper anyways. Raising an eyebrow, he proceeded to observe a few things carefully.

A large poster of Kiyoshi's favorite pro team was stuck on one side of the wall, and his bed sheets had basketball patterns. There were several balls near the foot of the bed. Some were smooth, which meant Kiyoshi had practiced till the ball was useless. Makoto frowned. This boy just had to be madly in love with the basketball so much not to let it go. There was also a regular ball with a signature. Makoto recognized it as one of the most famous players in Japan. And sure enough, there was a picture of Kiyoshi with the player on his desk. Humph. Makoto had at least a hundred of pictures taken with professional players.

Kiyoshi's desk was also clean - but it was because there was nothing on it. The book shelf was nearly empty, save for a few textbooks and basketball magazines. He opened the drawers, and found them to be all empty.

"What a boring room." He muttered. Having nothing to do, Makoto sat on the bed and picked up one of the smoothed-out balls, trying to spin it on his finger. Too smooth. The ball didn't even stay for a second and slipped, bouncing on the floor. Not bothering to pick it up, he sprawled onto the bed, fingering the sheets before pulling the pillow to his face. He sniffed it.

There was no particular smell except for a lingering, sweaty, scent. Just like Kiyoshi - the pillow yielded no lies. He probably must have collapsed onto his bed, tired and worn out after a hard practice or a game. Makoto felt irritation form inside him as he imagined Kiyoshi toss himself onto the bed, clutching the pillow as he buried his face - probably disappointed with his movements, yet still hoping for improvements in the near future. He'd have dreams of playing basketball, laughing with his teammates in his usual chuckle. Tsk. Please. That was so kiddy.

The doorbell rang, and Makoto could hear the grandmother's delighted voice.

"Teppei-chan, you have a friend. He's in your room right now. Take these with you."

Makoto sat up, hugging the pillow. The door opened and in walked Kiyoshi holding a tray with two glasses of orange juice and a plate of mixed fruits. He had been putting on a curious smile before he discovered who this 'friend' was.

"Oh... it's you."

"Yo." Makoto reached out for a glass the moment Kiyoshi placed the tray on his desk. After he gulped down half, he picked up a fork and started eating the fruits. He didn't say anything. No 'thanks for the food', or 'how are you?' - not even the most easiest daily greeting. When Makoto didn't speak, Kiyoshi sat on his chair and started the conversation instead.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm here to see you." Makoto said with his mouth full.

"What do you want? The other day, your teammates were waiting for me after school and told me you wanted to see me."

"Yeah - and the stupid kiddies were unsuccessful, it seems."

"Our team obviously dislikes you guys. They were suspicious and told me if I went, I'd die."

"Correct - but since you didn't, those failures died instead."

Kiyoshi chose to ignore the last remark.

"So what do you want from me?"

Makoto chewed the last fruit very slowly. After taking his time, he swallowed.

"You."

"Excuse me?" Kiyoshi looked confused.

"Do I have to say it twice, dumbass?" Makoto sneered.

"I take it that you want me to join your school?" Kiyoshi smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid that's not going to happen. Seirin is much too important to me."

"Those worthless gits? I wouldn't care about them if I were you." Makoto retorted. Then with a sly grin, "Or is there someone special?"

"They're all special." Kiyoshi said firmly, but his guest didn't seem to listen.

"Is it that Aida girl? Nah, she's no beauty. Perhaps that dear captain of yours?"

"Leave my friends out of this." Kiyoshi said, narrowing his brows. Makoto stood up, letting the pillow fall to the floor. He moved swiftly behind Kiyoshi and whispered in his ear.

"They are nothing compared to you, Iron Heart. Come to me - come with me. I'll take you to a far better world of basketball. We're the Crownless Generals, and together we'll be strong – even more than the Generation of Miracles. Don't you want to claim the Crown?"

Placing his hands on the large boy's shoulders, he slowly snaked them over his sweaty neck.

"...and maybe I'll teach you other things than just basketball..." he breathed. Kiyoshi's eyes widened as he listened to Makoto's words.

Your large body will be useful in a renown team like Kirisaki Daichi's. You're better off with me than at Seirin where nobody really knows. You must realize that your hands are probably made for basketball - we'll teach you the best tricks ever. I'll teach you...

Makoto would tighten his grip as if to suffocate him, but his fingers would lightly trace down his Adam's apple instead. Kiyoshi realized that Makoto's face was in his hair, and his hands were moving down to his collar - pretending to choke him, but shoving through downwards.

He felt the Bad Boy take a whiff, and heard a tiny, "Ahhhh...". Kiyoshi didn't wince, but Makoto's every move was scaring the hell out of him, truth be told. He wasn't sure what the Bad Boy was up to, but this sensation he was feeling right now was warning him that anything more than this was going to do him no good.

"Join me, hmm?" Makoto said seductively. Kiyoshi closed his eyes shut and counted to three before standing up from his chair, his large body towering over.

"If you think you can recruit me that way, you got the wrong person." Kiyoshi said steadily.

Makoto sighed. "And I so wanted you on my team..."

Kiyoshi waited. Makoto turned around and started to leave.

"Ah, well. If it's something I can't take as mine..."

He turned and smiled at Kiyoshi.

"...better to break it so nobody else can claim it."

Without waiting for a response, he opened the door, just in time to come face-to-face with a very surprised Hyuuga Junpei. The boy in glasses almost dropped whatever he was carrying, but held his ground and didn't back away.

"What are you doing here?" He asked angrily.

"Just dropped by for a friendly talk." Makoto said indifferently. Then shooting Hyuuga a glare he said with a snicker,

"Hand him over to me if you don't want him dead."

And he left. Hyuuga stared at the hallway leading to the front door where the Bad Boy had stepped outside.

Turning to Kiyoshi, he found the large boy forcing a grin over his face.

"Hello, Hyuuga."

"You left your towel and bottle at the gym." Hyuuga started as he entered the room, placing Kiyoshi's things on his desk. With concern, he approached the large boy.

"Did he do anything to you?"

"No." Kiyoshi said, his smile weakening. "At least...not yet." He leaned onto Hyuuga, burying his face in the smaller boy's shoulder.

"Get off! You're heavy!" Hyuuga said annoyingly. But when he felt a shudder, his expression softened. He carefully placed his hands around him and patted Kiyoshi's back.

"Pull yourself together - you're Iron Heart. It's going to be okay." Hyuuga clutched his teammate tightly and added in a firm, reassuring voice,

"I won't let him hurt you again."

"So...coach? Did you see him?" A Kirisaki Daichi player asked timidly. Makoto hadn't said anything after returning to the gym.

"Yeah." A low voice replied. The player looked at Makoto's face before yelping and jumping back. The other players moved away from Makoto, bracing themselves for anything that might be unleashed at them.

"Ha. I'll get what I want sooner or later." Makoto said in a soft, yet dangerous voice. "If you think last time hurt, then you'd better be prepared for the next." He picked up a basketball and threw it at the backboard with so much force that a dent and a crack formed before the ball dropped through the net. Normally, at such force the ball would bounce back, but to score... One of the players stared at it with awe and fear.

Irons are never strong, Makoto smirked. Bad Boys can wreck anything to get it their way. That is, when they're really bad.

Author's note: I tried hard to keep everyone in character, and I do hope they aren't too OOC.

This could be a one-shot, or a prologue of a multi-chapter story. Or whatever. It depends on my imagination...

... and your reviews, which I will gladly accept. By the way, flames will be deleted.