MiRACLE (KnB Fanfic)

20.

Kuroko never really knew what happened to Aisaka after that.

Thing just kind of washed over, and his memories of that week was simply a blur of surprises he subconsciously desired to not remember. Even though he dearly wished he could have done something more.

He heard of the incident the day after it occurred. The adults in the shopping district gossiped fervently about a robbery-gone-wrong three streets down. Rumours spilled like a bucket of botched paint, lingering like stains on school grounds.

Aisaka's name came up way too many times, but he never picked up his phone.

Then the newspapers had a field day with this tragic incident and that was all Kuroko could know about the situation therein.

There had been a funeral, but was Aisaka there? He was. Kuroko was sure that he was-- he remembered wanting to talk to him. As soon as the service was over, run over and hug him, cry on him, and tell him it'd be alright.

(But he didn't get the opportunity.)

Aisaka was gone with the wind, as soon as it ended. Kuroko couldn't find him again after that-- and simply went home, devastated.

Surely, they'd see each other in school, once Monday comes.

(They didn't.)

-

The house was barricaded. The police declined to comment. Aisaka never picked up his phone. No one knew if he had any other relatives.

(In one night, Aisaka vanished off the face of the earth.)

Kuroko finds his way up to the first string, only to realize nothing was waiting for him.

"Are you sure you have no ideas, Ogiwara-kun?"

"My last phone call with him was... I told you about that one, Kuroko. He's never talked to me since. Not even a message."

There were no signs of him anywhere.

Aisaka didn't have a home to go back to, but he wasn't in anyone else's house, either. They couldn't find anything out from the police, something about sensitive information and how his relatives would settle his whereabouts herein. If they were so worried, they could just call him. He has his phone.

(Then why isn't he fucking picking up, Aomine yelled at them.)

(The policemen simply repeated what they said, and sent them on their way.)

(Right now, they weren't Aisaka's friends-- they were simply outsiders.)

Kuroko grips the fabric of his chest. Looking up to the sky, Kuroko bites his lips and tries his hardest not to cry.

There's a void inside him. Something so deep and so scarring, every movement tugged at the tender wound and it was agonizing, so excruciating, it hurt.

"You liar," he whispered to himself, though he didn't really mean it. There was no bite in his tone, no anger-- just sorrow, "you promised you'd wait for me."