A/N: Going to change the rating on this for the sake of upcoming abuse and psychological mumbo jumbo. I don't want anyone to trigger!

Okay, so I've finally managed to get some ideas for this fic and it's about time I've updated. Kinda inspired by Amnesia (the otome game with the ikemens. Also, KENTO IS SO PRECIOUS /heart heart )

/ahem Anyways. Borderlining on some OOC, but eh...

Kuroko no Basuke © Fujimaki

"Senpai! Did you see that shot? It was pretty great right? I did awesome right?" Kise called out enthusiastically to his captain. It only irked kasamatsu even more with every word that left Kise's mouth. Instead of just telling him to 'shut the hell up!', he resorted to violence.

"SHUT THE HELL UP YOU COCKY ASSHOLE." Kasamatsu snapped, swinging a strong kick at Kise's head with his right leg. Moriyama looked on with amusement as Kise took a beating from their beloved captain. "Hahah, was he always like this?" He laughed, patting Kuroko on the back.

"... Not really." He answered, unsure whether to speak the truth or not, but he was sure to keep his distance from his senpai.

For their safety.

From where Kise could see, he was not amused with seeing Kuroko being so friendly with other members of the basketball club.

Moriyama ended up in the hospital the next day with a dislocated shoulder bone. Claims to be an accident, but x-rays showed the placement of his bones to be too forced to be an accident.

"Kurokocchi~ let's go~" Kise pouted cutely, laying his head on Kuroko's desk. To the girls surrounding them, the gesture was downright ADORABLE, but Kuroko mentally shuddered, fully aware of how malicious the boy behind the pretty face really was.

He dared suggested, "I'm sorry kis- Ryouta. I wish to speak with sensei about the recent test we had. I seemed to have missed a question..." The marked test paper was snatched out of his hand and Kise examined it.

With a modeled smile, he said, "Ehh~ Kurokocchi~ this really isn't hard. Lets go home and I can explain this to you."

Kuroko gulped at the 'lesson' he was going to receive, fully aware that Kise couldn't teach him the actual lesson regardless.

The minute they entered the apartment complex, Kuroko was thrown into the dining area against the table. His arm twisted painfully against his back as Kise grabbed his wrist and bent it.

"Does Kurokocchi REALLY like sensei that much...?" The model whispered lowly into Kuroko's ear.

"No...! Kise-kun it was an actual question I had to ask-! AH!" His voice didn't raise above normal inside voice, but for Kuroko, that was as panicked and loud as he could sound. The grip on his wrist tightened, sure to leave a bruise.

"Another thing, what's with the 'Kise-kun' shit? We're lovers right Kurokocchi?" When Kise did not receive a reply, he grabbed Kuroko by the chin and nodded for him forcefully. "Of course. So it's only normal we call each other by our first names, or even an endearing nickname... Right, darling?"

Kuroko remained silent the rest of the night.

At Kise's household, there were two bedrooms. One was set up especially for Kuroko. However, he never slept in it. Kise would always take him to his own bed and wrap himself around his lithe body. They've not done anything intimate beyond rough kisses, but that didn't make Kuroko feel any less endangered and alert. He would spend nights wrapped in Kise's arms, his legs encircling his waist, and his face snuggled to the crown of his head. It was overwhelming and uncomfortable to Kuroko, but if he resisted, who knows what would happen to him.

One night, possibly the third night he stayed at the hell he now had to call home, he was pinned to the bed, thrashing about to escape. Kise continuously tried to kiss him, but Kuroko fought back, always turning his head before their lips met.

Kise's reason for not doing more to Kuroko was simply, "I like to play with my food, mess you up, before devouring it."

Even in his sleep, Kise always held on to Kuroko with a consistent grip.

It was sick. Just like Kise.

"Kuroko~ you are so lucky to be with Kise-kun sooo much~" A girl, more than likely to be Kise's fan, squealed. He was trapped by a girl interrogating him with questions of Kise's personal life, hoping to learn more about her idol. He could only vaguely answer them, if not, then lie through his teeth.

It was originally just him in the classroom, reluctantly waiting (more like threatened) for Kise to finish speaking to a teacher. A girl in the halls had spotted him sitting by the window and waltzed her way in to 'chat' with him. His misdirection was not effective on those with tenacity for Kise.

"Geez~ maybe you two should go out with us some time! We could all go to a karaoke place after school and have fun!" She suggested, wrapping her arms around Kuroko's own. He flinched out of reflex but she held on tighter, pressing her breasts against his arm.

'Go away. Go away before he catches us and-' he thought frantically, but the hand around the girl's neck pulled her back, slamming her head against the desk behind her. Her head laid in a pool of blood, her blood.

The sight made Kuroko sick, and it was then that he realized how monopolistic Kise's desire for him was.

"Yokohama Akio found dead today at Kaijou High School. No evidence can be traced as of yet of who the murderer may be, but police investigation..." The tv cut off.

"Kurokocchi should pay no mind to silly reports." He hugged his object of obsession from behind. He cuddled against Kuroko and placed a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

Yes, his situation was worst than he imagined.

After news of the recent death passed, and Yokohama's death became old news, there was a rumor spread throughout Kaijou. News of Kise's and Kuroko's "relationship" became widespread and not a single student did NOT know about the love life between the two male students.

"Kyaa! Kise-kun is gay?"

"It can't be! He must have been tricked."

"That midget thinks he can monopolize our Kise-kun..."

Hiding behind the door of the empty prep room, Kuroko could hear the spiteful words of the girls. His eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and desperation.

They had it all wrong! He was the one subjected to torture. He never asked for the life he had to live.

Kuroko slumped against the door, his body weak from restless nights and fatigue. And now he was going to be a target of bullying.

His high school career could only get worst from there.

Kise was calm during that week. There were no signs of backlash or punishment. Kuroko walked home daily with Kise without a problem, except the occasional flinching when his hand was held and such but otherwise it was smoother sailing.

There were also no signs of bullying as he thought. At most, there were threat letters in his shoe box but it ceased after the first time. He was lucky that Kise had not seen the letters, for the perpetrators' safety. They were properly disposed of.

"Hmmm! Tetsuyacchi~ what should we do for dinner?" Kise asked innocently. His tone and manner startled Kuroko. The innocence will always be a facade waiting to be thwarted, but sadly, people have yet to notice. "I know, how about curry! I'll make curry tonight!" Kise chimed happily, grabbing hold of Kuroko's hand and swinging it back and forth. However, the smaller male felt uneasy and tense as his arm swung in several different directions; he still felt sore from his confrontation with Kise a little while ago.

Kuroko woke up with little memory of what happened after dinner. He woke up in his shared bed to see Kise sleeping peacefully by his side. From his view of the window, he could see that the sun was setting. He looked down to see Kise's blissful sleeping face and realized how vulnerable he was. It was the perfect chance to escape if he could.

Carefully slipping out of Kise's arms, Kuroko maneuvered his way out the bed. He tiptoed quietly towards the bedroom door and quietly made his way out. His steps were quiet as he walked towards the front door, careful as to not wake Kise up.

The front door was in plain view. Freedom and salvation was merely a few steps away. Each step felt as if it took hours on hours until he would have reached the door.

Just as he outstretched his arm to grab the doorknob, a larger hand overlapped his, lacing fingers to fingers.

"Tet-su~ya~cchi~" A low whisper by his ears caused him to freeze in place. A deathly breath blee by his neck with each passing syllable that escaped his lips. "I know you don't have plans of leaving. Of course not." The arm not painfully gripping his hand slithered around his waist, encircling him in muscle that he had no chance of fending against.

"This if your home afterall."

That was his third attempt.

Three strikes was enough for Kise Ryouta.

Kuroko arrived to school the next day sporting bruises around his neck and wrist.

Not a single person noticed.

As if it couldn't get any worst, he received text messages all during class.

Each message held a threat or another.

Break up.

He's too good for you.

You don't deserve Ryouta-kun.

Faggot.

Go die.

It was all too foreign to Kuroko to be bullied to such an extent. Even when he became a regular back at Teiko, not a single student would go to such extents.

He shut his phone for the rest of the day.

Kise took great care of the slash on Kuroko's wrist.

Afterschool, while keeping Kuroko in the classroom to settle things with several senpais who were pestering him to introduce them to girls, his more extreme fangirls took that opportunity to corner Kuroko and actually inflict bodily harm on him.

They tore at his clothes and ripped the flesh of his dominant arm. The girls took photos of him in his most vulnerable form and threatened to send it to everyone they knew and then some. They spewed curses at him and insults that were not true.

But it was too much. By the end of it, he was an empty shell from the stress, fear, Na fatigue he worked hard to endure for so long.

Luckily—or not—Kise returned in time to take care of the girls for their misdemeanor.

He simply took a knife from one of them and sliced ther hair, even managing to scrape part of one of their scalps. He confiscated the phones after they fled and deleted the data. The blonde merely stored away the phones, thinking of more practical uses for them in the nearby future.

He looked down at his Kuroko. His broken angel. Leaning down, he gently held his muse in his arms and carried him home, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances to him despite the stares they earned on their trek back home.

But Kuroko didn't care. His will and spirit were tampered and damaged.