Disclaimer: I don't own Kurobas or 7-Eleven. But I did buy a slushie there one time.

When he kissed me for the first time, the world around me suddenly began to spin, and my head felt light and floaty. My eyes closed, and he held on to my arms tightly and I could feel myself falling. His strong grip on my biceps was the only thing that kept me from colliding with the floor.

Yes, the first time he kissed me, I passed out from shock.

Embarrassing, I know, but if a stranger you had barely known for a week- a man at that- suddenly grabbed you out of nowhere and planted one right on you, you'd be a little surprised too. Especially when said kiss was your very first kiss. That isn't something you just take in stride or brush off with a nervous laugh before running for the hills without looking back.

Definitely not when it was him doing the spontaneous smooching.

Anyway, I'm getting way ahead of myself here. This whole thing started about a week or so ago, during one of my late-night shifts at my part-time job. The night had started out just like any other, meaning it was slow, agonizingly boring, and I had definitely sneaked more than one cup of coffee from the pots when my manager wasn't looking. Little did I know, my life was about to take a crazy turn; all because of the night he walked through the door.

"Furihata! You better not be sneaking coffee while my back is turned again!" my manager chided from somewhere unseen in the store. "Those pots are there for paying customers, not lazy part-timers!"

I froze, the paper cup full of steaming brown liquid stopping just before my mouth. "U-uh," I stuttered, lowering the cup behind the counter and out of view. "Of course I'm not, Hyuga-san!" I chuckled nervously. He made his way around a few of the long shelves filling the store and into view, shooting me a look that told me he definitely doubted that I was telling the truth, but he didn't say anything else about it.

I sent him an innocent half-smile, to which he just rolled his eyes before speaking to me. "I'm heading into the back to check on a couple things. Do you think you can handle the floor alone while I'm gone?"

"Yes, sir!" I replied.

"Good. I'll be back in a bit. And, Furihata?"

"Sir?"

"…You've got coffee on your shirt."

I glanced down at myself and saw that I did indeed have a small brown stain on the chest of my red uniform shirt. I let out another nervous chuckle, earning me another eye roll before Hyuga-san turned and headed into the back of the store where we kept the stock items before they were put out on the floor. When I was sure he was out of sight, and grabbed my coffee and took a long swig of the cooling beverage. After setting the cup down, I glanced at my watch and sighed when I saw that it was only 10:30. Night shifts were honestly a huge pain.

I looked back down at the stain on my shirt, then peeked out the window. It didn't look like anyone was coming- I mean, not many people found their way in here at this time of night anyway- so I decided that it would probably be alright if I ran off to the bathroom real quick and tried to clean off some of the coffee on my shirt. Taking one last glance outside, I stepped out from behind the check-out counter and headed off in the direction of the bathroom.

I was always pleasantly surprised by how clean the men's bathroom actually was. Not that we let it get especially gross around here or anything, it was just that public bathrooms were always kind of icky in my opinion. Ours even smelled nice, so that was definitely impressive.

I approached the sink and caught sight of myself in the mirror as I reached for the paper towel. My brown rat's nest of a head of hair was sticking up in all kinds of directions. I swear, I couldn't do anything with it. It had a mind of its own. I feebly attempted to pat it down, but it just flew back out into whatever crazy formation it decided it wanted to be in that day. I sighed as I gave up on trying to tame it and started to examine my face instead.

I looked seriously tired. There were dark circles under my too-big-for-my-face eyes, and my too-tiny-for-my-too-big-for-my-face-eyes irises were surrounded by red from lack of sleep. These constant night shifts were going to be the end of me, but considering I had college classes literally all day, I didn't have much of a choice when it came to my hours. I sighed again and grabbed a handful of paper towels, wetting and putting a bit of soap on them.

Just a few more hours, Kouki. You can do this.

I mercilessly scrubbed at the stupid coffee stain on my shirt, but it didn't show any signs of giving in to my abuse any time soon. With a groan, I crumpled up the soggy paper towels and tossed them into the trash can.

Nice shot, I thought to myself. Maybe I should consider taking up basketball.

I chuckled at that thought. I couldn't imagine myself ever playing a sport like that. It was much too intimidating of a game for a wimp like me, and I would proudly proclaim that. I had other things that filled up almost all of my time anyway, and when I wasn't working, going to class, or studying, I was crashing on my bed. Sometimes I even passed out the couch in the living room when I didn't have enough energy to make it all the way to my bedroom.

I attempted to make my hair calm itself down one last time, but decided once and for all that it was futile, so I gave up and turned to head back to work. Just as I exited the bathroom, a large man came in through the automatic door. He was wearing a dark pullover sweatshirt with the hood up so most of his face was hidden. His hands were also stuffed into the pockets of the sweatshirt, but it had been rather chilly lately, so I didn't think much of it.

"Welcome to 7-Eleven!" I greeted as cheerfully as I could manage. It was late and I was incredibly exhausted, so I'm sure it wasn't as chipper of a greeting as I would usually give, but the man nodded stiffly and seemed to accept it.

I made my way back behind the counter where my now long-cold coffee was waiting for me. As I was considering the idea of getting myself a refill while Hyuga-san was in the back, the hooded man started to approach the counter. I was about to ask him if he needed help finding anything when he removed his hands from his pockets.

Clutched tightly in one of them was a shiny switchblade knife, which he promptly pointed right at me.

My blood went as cold as the coffee sitting in front of me. I could already feel my body begin to shake as my heart started to pound harder than I'd ever felt it beat before. My mouth began to open to call out for Hyuga-san to come to my aid, but the hooded man cut me off.

"Not a word," he warned, bringing the blade a little closer to my chest. "Understand?" I nodded. "Good. Now empty the cash register."

I nodded again and started to reach out a shaking hand towards the register.

"Stop," a commanding voice called out. I froze, my only movement being the slight shaking in my hands and the shift of my gaze towards the source of the voice.

It was not the hooded man that had spoken up, but another man standing behind him that had probably come in while I was in the bathroom, because there was no way I would've missed someone like this waltzing in the door.

He wasn't very tall, standing only an inch or too higher than me, but the crazed look in his mismatched eyes gave him an incredibly imposing and intimidating presence. I think the hooded man was feeling the pressure this flame-haired stranger was giving off too.

"Get out," the intimidating man warned, his left eye flaring bright gold as his right burned into the back of the hooded man's head like a red-hot fire. I was honestly feeling more frightened by this new man than I was by the knife that was practically touching my chest.

The hooded man's hand tightened a bit on the handle of his blade, and he turned to face the man behind him, catching the full force of that striking gaze.

"I do not like to repeat myself," the red-haired man said, taking a step forward. "I said get out." His eyes flashed dangerously and the hooded man was practically tripping over himself to get out of the door.

I found myself releasing a breath I didn't even know I was holding, and my shaking legs finally buckled beneath me. I managed to catch myself on the counter before I hit the floor. I felt sick to my stomach, and I cradled my spinning head in my hands, resting against the counter in case I started to fall again. While I was trying to calm myself, the red-haired man had approached the counter and set down a couple of sports drinks before addressing me.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I nodded, still unable to find my voice, and looked up at him.

His red eyes- which I could've sworn were too different colors just a minute ago- were looking down at me in an almost calculating kind of way. I felt like he was analyzing or appraising me in some way, and it honestly kind of creeped me out a little. Still, this man had pretty much just saved my skin, so I didn't dwell on that feeling and decided I should probably thank him or something.

"U-um," I began, my voice cracking a bit because of the lingering feelings of being absolutely scared out of my mind, "tha-"

"I would like to check out now," he cut me off. I felt the slightest sting of irritation at being interrupted when I was trying to express my gratitude, but considering the man in front of me just managed to run off an armed man twice his size with just a few words, I decided it was probably best not to express that irritation to him.

"O-of course," I replied, quickly scanning his drinks and telling him his total. "Would you like a bag?" I asked while he handed me his card.

"That will not be necessary," he said. I handed his card back to him and he turned to leave with a small nod in my direction.

"Wait!" I called out as he was almost to the door. "You forgot one of your drinks!"

"No, I did not," he replied.

I glanced down at the cold sports drink before me in confusion. "B-but-"

"That is for you," he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He turned around slightly to face me, a small smirk on his lips. "I must be going now. Good night, Furihata." And with that, he was gone as fast as he had appeared.

It took my mind a few seconds to catch up to what exactly just happened. This is for me…? I picked up the beverage off of the counter, and a few drops of condensation rolled off the sides of the bottle and down my fingers. It's my favorite flavor too, I mused. While I was staring at the bottle in my hands, Hyuga-san finally came out from the back and came over to me.

"Did something happen, Furihata?" he asked, taking a quick glance around the store. "You look kind of awful right now."

His words snapped me out of my staring-at-a-sports-drink trance and I felt another wave of sickness come over. That's when it happened. The world famous Furihata Kouki nervous word vomit.

"Hyuga-san!" I cried. "It was terrifying! I came back from the bathroom just as this big guy came in with a hood on but I didn't think it was a big deal because it's kinda cold out right now, y'know? But then he came up to the counter and pulled a knife on me and I tried to call for you but he told me not to and that I needed to empty the register and my hands were shaking and getting kind of sweaty and I was about to do as he said when this other guy showed up behind him- he was kind of short and he had red hair and this scary look on his face- and he managed to scare off the big guy and then I felt really sick and leaned my head against the counter to calm down but this other guy came up and asked me if I was okay and then he cut me off when I tried to thank him and he bought a couple of sports drinks and started leaving without one and when I told him he said it was for me and then he just left. But, but Hyuga-san! He knew my name!" I stopped to catch my breath and looked up a Hyuga-san with wide eyes.

"Wow," Hyuga-san replied, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. "I'm glad you weren't hurt, Furihata. It was fortunate that this other guy was here to help you out, otherwise we'd have an empty register and you'd probably be curled up on the floor crying or something."

I frowned at the last part of his statement. "But, Hyuga-san!" I repeated. "He knew my name."

Hyuga-san snorted a bit and then sent me another eye roll. "That's because you're wearing a name tag, idiot." I looked down at my chest and remembered that, yes, I was indeed wearing a name tag, like always. I let out my signature nervous chuckle, and felt my face heating up in embarrassment.

Hyuga-san snickered again before speaking to me. "Alright, dummy, you're still on the clock. How about you go and fix some fresh coffee while I contact the police about what happened?

"Yes, sir," I replied, shuffling over to the coffee pots, head hung in lingering embarrassment.

"And, Furihata?" Hyuga-san called.

"Yes?"

"Go ahead and pour yourself a cup while you're at it."

I felt my lips curl up into a small smile. "Yes, sir."

It ended up being one of those nights- though technically it was morning by now- where I was so incredibly drained of any and all motivation to move that I just crashed on the couch in my clothes for the few precious hours I had to get some sleep.

It had been a little more hectic than usual during the rest of my shift, due to the police showing up and drilling me about what had happened: if I could give them a description of the hooded man, if he had gotten away with anything, etcetera. Honestly, everything that happened once the police arrived was a huge blur. They got there right as I had finished making a new pot of coffee, and they bombarded me with questions until it was almost time for my shift to end. I was exhausted by the time they finally left, both mentally and physically, and all I could think about was going home and curling up in my nice, warm bed. Which obviously didn't happen, considering I barely made it to the couch before my body decided it was done being awake.

My first class of the day didn't start until 9:00am, so I had a few hours to rest, and I was thankful for each and every one of them. A full night's sleep was a rare thing for me nowadays. I was studying art at a university in Tokyo, and it was becoming a very demanding major. Every time I turned around, it seemed like there was another project due that I hadn't bothered to start yet, and with my job taking up so much of my time, I was constantly pushing deadlines. But other than the not-so-large amount of money my parents left me when they passed away- most of which went to college bills- I was supporting myself financially, so I couldn't even consider quitting.

I didn't like to complain about my situation though; I was thankful for what I had. The night shift at 7-Eleven wasn't really all that bad anyway. Sure, it wasn't always that thrilling- excluding the events of tonight of course- but I didn't particularly mind the quiet of it. Hyuga-san was nice, and I enjoyed working with him, even if he could be kind of cranky sometimes. All in all, I was pretty content with how my life was going, but I couldn't help but feel that something was about to change.

My alarm went off much too soon for my liking, and I groaned as I opened my eyes and was viciously attacked by the blazing beams of sunlight that were coming through the window I had been much too tired to close before I went to sleep. I tapped at the screen of my phone to get the stupid, annoying, high-pitched jingle I had chosen as my alarm tone to stop ringing before I ended up throwing my phone at the wall. Which had happened once before. I wasn't really much of a morning person.

I sat up and stretched my aching muscles. I was really regretting sleeping on the couch. It definitely wasn't the most comfortable thing. It had originally belonged to my parents, and they had had it for a least 5 or so years before I was even born, and I was in my 20s. It was also this awful puke-green color, and was horribly lumpy and dipped in at the middle. To be honest, it was a terrible couch, but I had a strange sentimental attachment to it and couldn't seem to let it pass on like it was practically begging to. I gave it a semi-loving pat before I hoisted myself up and trudged into the bathroom to take a shower.

If I had to claim one major weakness- besides my over-all wimpiness and lack of self-confidence- it would be my love of long showers. Seriously, if I wasn't careful, I could spend hours under the hot stream without even realizing it. When my parents were alive, they would actually set a timer, and if I wasn't out by the time it went off, they would barge into the bathroom and drag me out. It happened way more times than I would like to admit. Anyway, I had to be very attentive to the amount of time I spent in the shower, especially with my already tight schedule.

I managed to get in and out in under 30 minutes, which honestly was quite a feat for me. I wrapped a fluffy white towel around my waist and sauntered into my bedroom to find some clothes. I wasn't really what you'd consider "fashionable," so my selection was pretty limited when it came to my wardrobe. I eventually decided on a long-sleeve black shirt and a pair of loose light-wash jeans.

I yawned wildly and glanced at the clock on my bedside table. I still had about 15 or so minutes before I had to head out, so I went to the kitchen and took some time making myself some eggs and coffee. I was seriously afraid I was becoming a caffeine addict, but I honestly could barely function without it. I scarfed down my eggs and poured my coffee in a to-go cup so I wouldn't have to worry about trying to down it all before I had to leave. Checking the time again, I noticed that it was about time for me to get going, so I quickly slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed my backpack and coffee and scooted out the door, remembering to lock it behind me.

"Off to class, Furihata-kun?" a voice said out of nowhere.

I jumped when I finally caught sight of the blue-haired man beside me.

"K-Kuroko!" I exclaimed. "I didn't see you there!" Seriously, this guy was like a ghost. I chuckled a bit and tried to will my heart to stop raging from the surprise like it currently was. "Yes, I'm heading out now."

He nodded, showing practically no emotion on his face. "Alright, then. I hope you have a nice day."

I smiled at him and gave a nod of my own. "You too!" I replied as I took off down the hallway.

Kuroko was a very interesting guy. Like I said, he was like a ghost and had a really bad habit of sneaking up on people without them noticing. Not even Kagami, who had been together with Kuroko for years now, was completely immune to the blue-haired man's phantom-ness. I enjoyed spending time with him though; Kagami too. They lived a few doors down from me, and were the first to welcome me when I had moved in to the apartment complex a few years ago. They would invite me over for dinner occasionally, which was always wonderful because Kagami was highly skilled chef. I considered them both very close friends of mine.

I let loose another yawn as I made my way to elevator. I lived on the third floor, so honestly I could take the stairs, but I was so incredibly lazy and insisted the elevator was the only way to go. I pushed the "down" button and waited for the doors to open, taking a long swig of my coffee. I could already tell today was going to be a very, very long day.

"Furi! I'm having some people over to watch a movie tonight. Can you make it?" Fukuda asked as I stuffed my sketchbook into my backpack. I had just finished my last class of the day, and all I wanted was to go back to bed and sleep for 20 years.

"Ah, sorry. I can't," I apologized, "I have to work tonight."

Fukuda frowned. "All you do anymore is work." He sighed. "Okay, then. But you're definitely coming next time, got it?"

I smiled and chuckled softly. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

He perked up a bit at that and flashed me a big grin. "Good! See you later then, Furi!" He sent me a wave and took off.

I laughed as I watched him go. Fukuda was a really great guy, and I regretted that I wasn't able to hang out with him and Kawahara as often as I used to be able too. I'd known the two of them almost my entire life, and they were the most dependable people I'd ever met. It honestly killed me to have to constantly pass up on opportunities to spend time with them and have to let them down over and over again. They were understanding of my situation, though, and they were always incredibly supportive. I don't know how I would've made it after my parents died if it wasn't for them being there by my side to whip my self-pitying butt back into shape. I'd definitely make everything up to them one day.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started to make my way out of the classroom when my professor stopped me.

"Wait a minute, Furihata," Aida-sensei said. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Yes, sir?" I asked, walking over to the desk where he stood.

"It's about the artwork you've been turning in to me lately."

"What about it?"

He frowned. "Frankly, it's disappointing."

My heart stung. "E-excuse me?" I stuttered. "What do you mean by that?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before replying. "I don't really know how to put it exactly, but it's empty. There's no emotion in it. It's superficial. A cheap attempt at expression. Visually, it's not bad, but art is supposed to make you feel something deep inside when you look at it, stir up some kind of emotion, and all I felt when I looked at yours was bored. Does that make sense?"

I stared at him blankly. I couldn't make any words come out of my mouth, so I nodded.

"Good," he said. "Now, I know what you're capable of, Furihata. You definitely have talent, but creating a work of art takes more than that. It requires your soul. You have to be willing to be vulnerable and pour out your everything onto that canvas. Right now, you don't seem able to do that. So, for the upcoming assignment, I really need you to expose yourself in the work. Take a chance. Don't just settle for mediocre."

I nodded again. "I-is that all, sir?"

"Yes, that's all," Aida-sensei replied.

I bowed slightly and hurried out of the classroom. I was flustered, and felt the slight prickle of tears forming in the corners of my eyes. What did he mean "expose yourself in the work?" How did you put that kind of emotion into a work of art anyway? Frustrated, I groaned and pulled on the ends of my hair. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I never thought that art could be so complicated!

Aida Kagetora was very successful and well-known in the art world, and I knew that he was just trying to help me grow as an artist, but all he had really done was discourage and confuse me. I had no idea what I was going to do for my next project, but I hoped that I wouldn't end up screwing up whatever it would be. Art was the only thing that I really had, and I didn't want to end up losing it.

I sighed and pulled out my phone to check the time. I didn't have work for a few more hours, so I decided that I would head on home, take a well-deserved nap, and grab a bit to eat before heading out for the night. Hopefully, tonight would be normal.

The minute I saw him walk in, I knew the night would be anything but normal.

"W-welcome to 7-Eleven," I greeted as he stepped in from the cold.

The red-haired man sent me a polite nod and made his way over to the sports drinks and quickly grabbed a couple, like he had bought the night before. I quietly observed him from behind the counter. He seemed… different than last night. He still had a rather intimidating presence about him, but he wasn't giving off the same frightening feeling he had before. He turned his head slightly looked in my direction. I felt my face heat up at having been caught staring and quickly averted my gaze. He started to approach the counter while I was looking away.

"I would like to check out now," he said, placing his drinks down on the counter.
"Of course," I muttered, reaching out and scanning his purchases. In a rare burst of courage, I decided to talk to him a bit more, specifically about last night. "U-um," I began timidly. "I just wanted to thank you for last night. You really saved me… uh…" I trailed off.

"Akashi," he replied. "Akashi Seijuuro."

Akashi Seijuuro? That name sounded vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Well, thank you, Akashi-san," I said finally.

A smirk appeared on his face. "Think nothing of it," he replied.

I sent him a small smile and finished getting him checked out. He again handed me his card, which I promptly swiped. When I went to return it to him, I noticed he was looking at me with an expectant expression on his face.

"Well?" he asked.

"E-excuse me?"

"I told you my full name," he explained, "so it would only be polite to in turn tell me yours, don't you think?"

I felt my face heat up just a bit at that. Duh. "O-of course!" I stammered. "I'm Furihata Kouki."

His expression turned thoughtful. "Kouki, hm?"

I nodded, finally managing to hand his card back.

He hummed lightly and grabbed one of his drinks before turning to leave.

"You forg-"

"You have it," he said, cutting me off.

"Uh… well, thank you, Akashi-san."

Akashi-san hummed again and continued towards the exit. "It was nothing," he insisted. "Good night… Kouki."

And he was gone.

And I'm not going to lie, the way he said my name gave me chills. And I didn't know how I felt about that.

I never imagined that Akashi-san would come back after the night of our first encounter, let alone that he would come every night for the rest of the week.

Honestly, it was kind of freaking me out.

He would show up at roughly the same time each night- always dressed in an expensive looking suit- go straight to the sports drink cooler, grab a couple, head over to the check-out counter, buy both of them with his card, end up leaving one behind, and softly wish me a good night as he left.

It was the same. Thing. Every. Night. And somehow I still knew pretty much zero things about him because our conversations lasted a minute or two at best and mostly consisted of me telling him how much money he owed. It wasn't exactly the most thrilling of social interactions. Thankfully, the small amounts of time I had spent with him over the past week had helped me sort of get past that "you are the most terrifying human I have ever seen" impression I had originally formed of him, so that was something. I honestly had no idea why he kept coming in night after night though, just for a cheap sports drink he could probably get from a vending machine pretty much anywhere. Like I said, it was a little bit freaky.

When he came in on the 7th day, I had already long become accustomed to the sort of routine we'd fallen into. Which is why I was so surprised when he did not go straight to the sports drink cooler as he usually did, but instead came towards me. I was confused by the sudden change in routine, but didn't really spend a lot of thought on it. It wasn't like it was a spoken rule that he had to go to the cooler first or anything. I had just opened my mouth to welcome him to the store, like I did every night, when it happened.

Suddenly, his face was much, much, much too close to mine- I could've sworn his left eye glinted gold like it had the night we had met- and before I even had a chance to prepare myself or run and hide or really do much of anything, his lips roughly crashed against mine.

And this is where we came in. The part where I was so shocked, so surprised that my first kiss was stolen away in such a way, that my body couldn't handle it and decided to give up on consciousness.

Before I was completely lost to the world, I heard a small chuckle and a chilling voice uttering an even more chilling promise. "This is going to be fun, Kouki."

I take back what I said earlier.

Akashi Seijuuro was by far the most terrifying human being to have ever lived.

A/N:
What even is this? I don't know how my brain created this thing with all of its words.
I had a weird dream like this story the other night, and I guess it just turned into this.
It's also 3am, which is probably why I'm losing my mind at this point.
Good night.