Kuroko no Basket x Reader One Shots

Haizaki x Daughter! Reader

Note: For clarification, this is an AU where Haizaki is the father of (F/n) and also Kise. Kise's full name is Haizaki Ryouta and he doesn't bear the Kise family name.

!Warning!
This one-shot contains and/or has mentions of the following content:
• Abuse and violence
• Mentions of injuries/cuts
•Mentions of alcohol and drugs
• Tragedy
• Angst ending
Please do not read this one-shot if any of the above make you uncomfortable. I have plenty of other one-shots that you can enjoy. Thank you!

"Hey (F/n)-cchi, are you almost ready?" My older brother Ryouta's voice came from outside my bedroom door. "We have to get going soon."

I glanced at myself in the mirror one last time and pressed down my skirt before carefully buttoning up the collar of my black shirt to conceal the bruised skin underneath. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my school bag and opened the door to greet Ryouta.

"I'm ready," I said, putting on what I hoped was a convincing smile. My muscles screamed in protest as my backpack straps dug into the cuts on my shoulders, but I knew Ryouta was suffering similarly so I held my tongue and kept quiet.

Still, he seemed to notice and smiled kindly at me. "You can leave your history textbook. Kobayashi-sensei won't notice if you don't have it for a day or two."

"O-okay." I shrugged off my bag and took out the massive textbook, throwing it on my bed with a grunt before zipping my backpack up again and putting it back on. Though the weight of the rest of my books was still uncomfortable, I could move my arms a lot easier now.

Realising we'd be late if we lingered any longer, we hurried over to the shoe rack near the front door to put on our shoes. Once Ryouta tied the laces of his sneakers, he straightened up and looked back at the empty apartment that stood behind us.

"Dad! We're leaving for school!"

Without even waiting for a response—because we almost never got one—Ryouta opened the front door and we were on our way to school.

The two of us were carbon copies of the infamous Haizaki Shogo. We both inherited his grey hair, though these days Dad kept his dyed black. Ryouta was most like him; he liked basketball just like Dad and even played the same position as him.

And for whatever godforsaken reason, Dad decided we hadn't suffered enough simply being the spawn of the devil. No, he also enrolled us into his old high school, Fukuda Sōgō. It had to do with something about being the closest high school in the area (which affected nothing because Dad never dropped us off anyway) and if he suffered during his high school years, then we had to suffer too.

He had a death grip around both my and Ryouta's life, especially after Mom went out of the picture. She left us when I was six years old, and it was actually on Ryouta's seventh birthday that we found out she wasn't going to come back. Whether she was in rehab for her alcohol and drug addiction or in prison, I couldn't be sure anymore. Dad never bothered to tell us.

As soon as we stepped through the doors of Fukuda Sōgō, everyone turned to glare at us with their eyes narrowed in silent assault. While I normally kept my eyes pointed at the floor to avoid them, Ryouta would meet their gaze challengingly.

Every day, he would take me to my classroom before going to his own homeroom on the second floor of the school building. When Ryouta started his first year of high school while I was finishing middle school, the older students were quick to recognise him as the son of Fukuda Sōgō's legendary delinquent. This subjected Ryouta to bullying from those kids as the teachers turned a blind eye. I would've received the same treatment upon entering the school too, but my brother was determined to protect me. He couldn't stop the insults or rough housing inside my homeroom by my classmates, but he made sure I wouldn't be beaten up by those same older students that had looked down on him in his first year.