Kuroko never thought he would lay eyes upon the man again.

However, here he was – presented with a chance of redemption, a glimpse of false hope, as if the gods decided to laugh him in the face one last time.

The steel table beneath his fingertips feel cool to the touch, the chair he is sitting in feels anything but comfortable against his lean back and the heavy atmosphere threatens to suffocate him with every second of silence.

Kuroko does an immaculate job at hiding his discomfort. However, the judging gaze falling upon his delicate features from the other side of the table is no stranger to his little masquerades. Kuroko feels his body become heavier beneath the scrutinizing stare of heterochromatic eyes – one regal, powerful gold – the other, passionate red, glinting with what might be falsely interpreted as warmth.

Kuroko is not fooled. He knows this man too well to delude himself with the promise of the warmth he once knew. That man has long since passed away – swallowed by cursed golden metal, now sitting like a parasite in the man's left eye socket.

"It's been a long time, Tetsuya."

Kuroko resists the urge to flinch by the sound of his first name on the other's tongue. The current man, Akashi's voice, is like a snake – it coils around Kuroko's neck, relentless and with the promise of retaliation, should he find displeasure in their meeting.

"Yes, Akashi-kun." Kuroko agrees as plainly as he can. His voice sounds hollow in the interrogation room. "I hoped I would never see you in a place like this."

The confession, though small, pulls Akashi's lips into the faintest of smiles. "You had too high expectations for me." Akashi's tongue halts for the briefest of seconds, but Kuroko notices it nonetheless. The crimson male tilts his head to the side ever so slightly; long pale fingers threading together as elbows are brought to rest on top of their shared table. Shades of metal decorate his wrists, the handcuffs clinking to remind them both of exactly where they were.

Kuroko dreads the following words, having heard them too many times already.

"Or, perhaps, mine were too high for you?"

Kuroko's heart aches, in dull throbbing pain. He ignores it – having done so the exactly same number of times as he has heard those words roll across the other's tongue.

"You should confess." is all Kuroko suggests as a futile counter– knowing that the current battle has already been lost. He never did live up to the other's expectations, he was never able to save him, nothing he can say or do can change that fact. He can only keep fighting his lost battle like a worthless soldier refusing to lay down and die. If he still had one thing to be proud of, it would be the tenacious nature of his stubbornness. "They might lessen your sentence if you do." He finally adds.

"Tetsuya." Akashi's voice is laced with disappointment, his name but the faintest of whispers on the other's lips. "Don't take me for a fool – we both know that I cannot do that."

A dull stab brings Kuroko back to reality. Akashi has always been too proud, too consumed in his own greatness to admit defeat, even when it was laughing him straight in the face. It would be his downfall.

"Are you just going to accept their judgment?" The word's stumble shakily out of Kuroko's mouth – evidence of his inner turmoil. Anxiety and frustration sweep across his body like a gust of wind, and he stands up from his chair – palms pressed against the tabletop, the chair clanking behind him. "What you did will no doubt land you the death penalty!"

"I'm aware of that." Akashi agrees - the clash of cursed gold and familiar red unaffected. Another faint smile pulls onto sharp features, and something potent stirs beneath Kuroko's chest from seeing it, taunting him into a false sense of security. "I know you came here in hopes of me changing my mind. Don't hide it, Tetsuya."

The bitter aftertaste of defeat lingers on the back of Kuroko's tongue. He forces it back and watches behind hopeful sky blue eyes when Akashi slowly rises from his spot.

Akashi is quick. Terrifyingly quick.

Long fingers lock around his wrist with incredible strength, in the same instance as a hand clamps down on his right cheek.

"I cannot allow it."

Kuroko stares into heterochromatic madness, Akashi but a breath away despite the table still keeping their lower bodies separated. He watches, frozen on the spot, as the other leans closer.

Blood rushes to his ears and in the far distance, Kuroko can hear police officers yell. However, it is all a blur, compared to the vibrant crimson being currently holding him in his clutches.

Kuroko thinks he sees a glimmer of the man he once knew in the way Akashi's gaze softens, but the flicker of hope is mercilessly crushed, when a wicked grin emerges on the other's lips before the remainder of the air between them is erased.

"He will fall with me."

Akashi's lips feel familiar. However, the kiss in itself is nothing like how his lover would kiss him – tender, soft, and loaded with affection. In contrast, this kiss is possessive, dominating, and rough. He feels the clacking of teeth against teeth and a hot breath being exhaled against his face as Akashi is pulled back by a police officer's sheer force.

It all happens so fast.

Powerful emotions well up inside of Kuroko when Akashi is taken away. He fights the urge to scream, to yell after him, to demand that he does not take away the man he loves.

However, Kuroko knows it is futile – his wish is a double-edged sword.

The tainted gold is part of the warm affectionate crimson he loves.

The two cannot be separated.

Ever.