A/N: Here, take this before I go- *drowns in add maths homework*

My Goldfish Boyfriend

Chapter 4

[the purple mist]

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It was surprising that the loud thump of the book being snapped closed didn't wake Akashi up, since Kuroko pegged him as a light sleeper who would be disturbed from their rest at the slightest noise. No matter, Kuroko had one less problem to deal with and he couldn't help but shudder at the fact that he has already come in contact with anything related to the supernatural to last his lifetime.

If one couldn't tell, Kuroko did not want to have any of these experiences anymore. It was getting increasingly laughable and the notion of a "spirit" or "ghost" was absolutely insane to someone like the blue haired writer. Maybe it was an influence from his friend, Midorima, who is a firm believer of science and apparently, horoscopes (who deemed it as a scientific study, one of the earliest made by mankind), as well as being one of the best and youngest surgeons to ever grace the medical world. His disbelief also came from having a distant relative, an aunt related by a cousin's marriage, who had lost herself in the world of occult and being in a cult had resulted in her descent to madness and murder.

But, did all that matter? After all, he just saw it happen right before his eyes, right? That counted as evidence enough, especially when Kuroko wasn't high on anything or delusional. He should probably take back his words and get a new outlook on things.

Then things had to get even more ominous, like, say, the lights flickering about until they mysteriously switched off and his room being slowly filled with purple mist. His surroundings started to fade away from him, leaving only the couch he was on and the strange purple mist. Not only that, the air was gradually getting thicker, as if he was in a dense forest rich in oxygen and all of his senses started to go topsy-turvy, as if he didn't belong in his body. It was getting difficult for him to focus, to stay awake, to breathe.

Everything was out of whack.

Yet, it felt like such a good time to lay on the couch, to be dead to the rest of the world, not for an hour or two, but forever.

"You should, you know."

A voice from the mist spoke. Its tone was that of a woman's; feminine and nice to hear, somewhat like Momoi's, but unlike the kindness and sincerity that could be heard from her talking, this was mocking and mischievous, in a not fun, but dangerous way. Kuroko's instincts were telling to run far away and never look back, to escape from this threatening being, but there was something whispering into his ear, telling him that the voice was safe and to stay with her.

Something was obviously wrong with the situation, especially when there was a fuzzy feeling in Kuroko's stomach from being near the voice, as if he was supposed to be happy about it, but he couldn't fight back something he couldn't even see or touch.

"So you're the human that has found the arrogant king." the voice giggled, high and terrifying and it didn't help at all that all Kuroko could do was give a smile. He just felt so goddamn happy, for no reason at all. It was just so powerfully compelling. "I should've turned him into a thousand planktons for other sea creatures to consume, but that would've been a swift punishment, no? It would've been boring and not at all humiliating."

There was really nothing to do to snap Kuroko out of his... happy confusion.

"You know, I'm surprised that you haven't fallen asleep yet." the voice praised. Kuroko didn't really pay attention, he was just so terribly distracted by the humming in the air and the warmth clinging onto his skin, especially the left side of his face, where a misty, slender hand formed to touch and tilt Kuroko's face. "Most humans do, if they are exposed to magic miasma, especially mine. Seems like you have a higher tolerance for it, but not for the mesmeric spell."

"Hmmm... you're the most interesting human in 237 years." the voice dripped with amusement and wonder. "Then again, being in the presence of Ryu-sama, one tends to get bored easily. He's such a stickler for rules!" If the voice had a solid form in human shape, it would've pouted.

"I hope good luck comes your way, because the arrogant king is such a hassle to handle." the voice sighed, as if troubled. Kuroko did not pay any heed to it, still entranced. All he did was jerk slightly, then nod very slowly. "You don't know what he did, or why I turned him like this, right?"

"Well, I'll tell you, since you won't remember it anyways."

"You see-"

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Kuroko awoke with a start, quickly sitting up from his sleeping position on the couch, slightly high strung and perplexed by his current action as well as being unable to recall sleeping on the couch. Was he that tired to just plop onto his furniture without a care in the world, just like that? It wasn't as if the couch was a comfortable place to sleep on either and his joints showed proof of that, because they ached all over and Kuroko now had a stiff neck to deal with as well. Talk about troublesome.

Maybe the whole supernatural business was getting to his head and was making him more tired than usual. Being a writer, Kuroko lived a mostly unhealthy lifestyle that included inconsistent eating and zero exercise in his life, but he never missed his appointed bedtime, especially when he had no deadlines to rush for. Which reminds him, what he did need to rush for, was to write the first draft of a new story. He already completed his old series, which was The White Line, five months ago and his editor, while happy that a series completed its run, was also on the fence on finishing off a popular series that could've made more. Of course, Kuroko would've fought tooth and nail to finish it because he believed that there was no point lengthening a story when it was already perfect for completion and he did. In exchange for completing The White Line, he had to create a new series that would be even better than the previous by being more unique, with a time limit of nine months maximum.

He had already wasted five and he couldn't waste another three, only to have a month left to finish an entire book. That would be too exhausting and mad to even do.

Though, maybe what he needed all along was a break. A break from his new roommate, from Nigou, from his friends, from his job and from everything else he was responsible for. It didn't matter if it was short, as long as he got a break. Hell, he'd sell his soul for an hour of freedom to the devil right now if it could get him away from everyone and everything. He just needed to get away, to break away.

All he needed to do for that to happen, was to step out of the door and be gone for a while.

When he went out of the door, once again stepping out, only this time in the late evening, he didn't notice a shift in the air and a dark purple silhouette waving merrily at Kuroko before twirling around and then vanishing into thin air.

In fact, he didn't even notice that how he suddenly fell asleep was suspicious.

That's because he didn't have any memories of the past few hours that passed when he was enveloped in the mist.

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Honestly, he didn't know why he never did this before. It was possible that it was due to him fearing that it would be out of character for him, seeing that he was a person of silence and written words, but was that the case? He wasn't so sure anymore and as much as he would love to ponder about it, now wasn't the time, not when he was having the time of his life.

In a loud and dark club, with people around his age, also having the time of their lives with alcohol, drugs, flirting with the opposite sex and dancing to the beat. Now that he was here, actually having fun and loosening up, he didn't understand why he never thought of coming to the Paradise Rose before. Surely he would've at least thought that it might have been a novel experience to go here?

He could damn well ponder all he wanted, but another part of him told him to party like there was no tomorrow and to finally be "himself", whatever that meant. He was always himself, wasn't he? Unless, the current him, wasn't the true him? How was he supposed to be "himself", if he was like this his entire life? Could he outgrow his shell and finally be "himself"?

It was such a mystifying idea, but he didn't bother to think further and it could go and burn itself for all he cared.

There was only him, the dancing and the music now.

Nothing else matters.

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The night felt harder to go through as Kuroko wanted nothing more but to lie down and sleep until afternoon rolled by, but that would be bad for his health, as Midorima proved so many times back in university when they shared a dorm. Fatigue seem to cling onto him like a parasite to its host or a dark cloud surrounding him, but there was nothing he could do to stop it and he deserved anyways, for staying out for so long. The best thing he could do was brew himself some coffee to stay awake when he reached home, since he couldn't go to the nearest coffee shop to buy a cup because he was already nearing to the flight of stairs that led upwards.

Well, it was better than nothing, he supposed. The teal haired adult stretched and yawned, walking up the stairs that led to the floor of his apartment, since the elevator was unfortunately in maintenance.

Going to Paradise Rose had been fun and wandering around the city at night was even more exciting. He didn't even know that there were so many high schoolers and biker gangs that gathered and either a) roamed (if they were high school students), or b) zoomed about on their motorcycles (the bikers) on the empty streets. Seeing how much exhilarated hollers he heard then, perhaps he should try taking nightly walks too around the empty city. It seemed way better than sleeping so early. To him, wandering around was much more productive than sleeping.

Though, there was another problem...

His roommate.

Why couldn't his life be simple, free from anything weird or related to the supernatural? It had been for the past twenty-two years. Why couldn't this year be alright?

Maybe if he was a high school girl yearning for excitement of some kind, he would enjoy this. But, him? He was Kuroko Tetsuya, an acclaimed writer under a pseudonym who wrote the best-selling mystery and crime novels. He was supposed to live his life in peace and quiet, enjoying the positive reception he was receiving from his fans and sometimes dragged out to the outside world by his small but close group of friends to get some fresh air.

Though right now he couldn't lament on the fact that his life was no longer normal. He needed help and if there was anyone that could help him or even give him some advice on the current matter, it would be Midorima. He must have some insight on the supernatural topic, as his family did run a temple and some of his close relatives were priests of some kind.

He had a call to make-

But maybe not, when he opened the door, only to come face to face with a livid Akashi in one of Kuroko's old yukatas, the black and grey one with silver flecks swirling at the bottom.

Why was he so angry anyways? Did he read Kuroko's mind about perceiving Akashi as a problem? It was true anyways, wasn't it? So why was he mad? Or was it because Kuroko smelled funny? Granted, Kuroko did go to a club that allowed indoor smoking as well as shisha on the upper floor. Did the smell cling to his clothes? Or was it the alcohol? He wasn't sure, because according to himself, he smelled just fine.

Seriously, what was the problem?

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"It's three in the morning."

Kuroko didn't answer, only furrowing his eyebrows.

Why did he feel so... muddled and dull?

Actually, what was he doing before this?

Akashi looked ready to murder someone.

"Where were you?"

A/N: Chapter 4, alternatively named as, "Interlude: OOC Kuroko appears". Fear not, there is a reason why Kuroko suddenly seems inconsistent. I'm afraid, however, that you'll have to wait for the next chapter for answers.