The Blue-eyed Devil (Kuroko no Basuke)

TB-ED 4: Hell On Earth

CHAPTER FOUR

I had always thought that the only person capable of making my life miserable was my mother. It never crossed my mind that somebody else could do it, too.

I had to say, Aomine Daiki was doing an excellent job in ruining every second of my life. For the last two days since we'd moved, it felt like I was in a penitentiary, paying for the sins I didn't commit.

I mean, can you believe it? He made me scrub his "grossgusting" toilet with his evil snickering as background music.

Gah.

Cringing at the memory, I thoroughly massaged my aching temples.

Why did I do it, anyway? Why was I even putting up with him and his demands? He was practically enslaving me.

What a devil...

"Aren't you going to unpack your things?"

Breathing out an exasperated sigh, I lazily turned to the direction of the door when I heard his deep voice. Unwanted people sure have their way of showing up when you least expect them to. Popping up like a mushroom in the most unexpected time had been Aomine Daiki's hobby as of lately.

"No need to," I said in a bored tone, hoping to drop the conversation as soon as possible. I wasn't even surprised of his sudden appearance anymore. I got used to it like it was some common occurence. But if he knew how to pop up like a mushroom, he must also learn how to pop like a bubble and be gone. After all, it wouldn't be hard for him to disappear out of sight since he could easily blend into the darkness. I'd surely lose sight of him in an instant. Except maybe for the plain white shirt he was wearing.

Okay. I knew I deserved a cookie for that joke.

"So you like it this way or you're just too lazy to tidy up?" He arched up a brow, sounding like some strict supervisor questioning me for my incompetence and it was annoying as hell.

I rolled my eyes, grunting. "Piss off, Daiki. Just mind your own shit."

Of course, I couldn't tell him that I didn't want to unpack and tidy up and actually decorate the room because I knew I would just be wasting my time and strength. It'd be nothing but a major hassle. But now that I had come to think of it, I hadn't exactly tried decorating any of my roomsssss before.

Why?

It was simply a matter of self-preservation. When you move around a lot, you just don't let yourself get attached.

Aomine Daiki merely shrugged his broad shoulders, seemingly unaffected of my sass. How annoying. I'd never win. "Yeah, sure. But if you don't want to clean your room, help me clean mine, instead."

I gaped, looking at him as though he had grown real life demonic horns on top of his head. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Do I fucking look like I'm kidding right now?"

I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't quite bring myself to say a word yet. I was much too dumbfounded. I'd be damned but there's no way he could make me do it.

No. Fucking. Way.

I'd seen and smelt his room. When he dragged me there, literally, to scrub his "grossgusting" toilet, I kind of saw how much it resembled a smelly dumpsite. It reeked of sweat and feet and whatever he owned that I didn't want to know. Gravure magazines, jerseys, used clothes, and even food wrappers were everywhere I turned.

You know, it was kind of amazing how he could actually breathe the air quality in there.

Remind me to give him a crap flavored cookie later for being so disgustingly amazing.