Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Weave yourself into the Tapestry. Complete this task and we will grant you the Rights. Complete this work and you will restore the one who has broken our laws for your sake.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

They watched in silence as the bundle was consumed by blue flames that burned hotter than anything he'd ever felt. Though he'd become familiar with the odour of burning flesh, Tetsuya couldn't help wincing at the mingled scent of smoke and flesh, and the slightest hint of cinnamon. He stared at the flames as they consumed the, now, hollow vessel his beloved had occupied, shedding no tears. There was no use in crying, it was a wasteful act that provided no comfort, eased no guilt. He should be tracking the movements of the remnant whose presence he'd grown to know so well, but it didn't sit well with him to leave without fully acknowledging the life that had passed. The thought that someone so present, so dignified, so alive could be reduce to a cold, lifeless heap of flesh and bone in an instant, never failed to wreck him.

“Shouldn't you be going?” asked a voice from behind him, before he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He looked up to meet his friend's eyes, shades darker than the ones he longed to see. “We'll stay and collect the ashes.”

“I can't leave yet, Kagami-kun,” Tetsuya declared, returning his gaze to the cremating body. “It won't feel complete if I leave now.” He'd been through this more times than he cared to remember, but his heart never ceased to ache at the loss.

There was a chill in the air that seeped into his body and numbed his soul, despite the layers of clothing he wore. They continued to stand in silence, his friends offering no words of sympathy or comfort. Why would they? This was nothing new for them; the burning of the mortal body that signified the end of one life and the start of another. When the body had been burned entirely, and all that was left was ash and sorrow, Tetsuya began making his way back to the town, leaving Kagami to collect the ashes as he was not permitted to.

“You should hurry,” Aomine's deep drawl followed him. “You'll lose the trail if you stick around here too long.”

“I know,” Tetsuya replied, not turning to look at his friend. They walked together in a silence that was as heavy as it was cold, like a blade pressed against his throat.

“How long do you plan to keep this up?” Aomine asked, voice even and sober.

“As long as it takes, Aomine-kun,” Tetsuya replied, somewhat resolute. He had been close this time. Tetsuya turned to look into the deep blue of his friend's eyes, hoping he didn't look as defeated as he felt. Aomine eyed him for a moment and parted his lips, then closed them again, rethinking the words he had been about to say.

“What is it?” Tetsuya seldom missed a thing and he could sense that Aomine wanted to say something, something he wasn't meant to know.

“Nothing. Just don't take too long, Tetsu. He doesn't have forever. Not anymore.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Tetsuya sat on the high-backed chair in the small office. The man seated in front of him levelled him with a steel-grey gaze, occasionally looking down at the pages on the desk, asking him questions about his past experience. He had none, to be honest, but he'd lived long enough to know how to fake these things.

“Your credentials are impeccable,” the interviewer said. “And your references all seem to think highly of you. And, from your profile, it seems you would be perfect for the job.” Tetsuya stared at the man impassively as he waited for the older man to complete his statement. “Especially now that the Lady of the house is about to give birth. It is for that reason that we've decided to take you on a trial basis, see how you fair with the family.” Tetsuya allowed himself to smile, small and polite, appropriately placed. “When can you start?”

“Next week will be perfect,” Tetsuya replied. “Unless you need me sooner.” He didn't want to appear too eager, nor did he want to seem indifferent. This was the first time he'd ever had the opportunity to be near to the remnant from the time it was reborn. Being this close would make things easier for when the time came. He would also have time to prepare for the next Judgement, instead of spending precious time trying to track down the one he had promised himself to.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It had been three days since the Lady of the house had returned from the hospital with her infant child. She'd been holed up in the nursery since, giving Tetsuya little chance to confirm his assumptions, though he could sense it in the deepest recesses of his being. Instead, he'd spent his days doing the jobs he had been employed to do; serve the Master of the home, clean the study, dust the trophy cabinets, run errands, and serve the well-wishing guests that arrived by the truck load.

After another long day of carrying out menial tasks, Tetsuya stumbled into his room, a little tired, but mostly anxious to steal a peek at the newborn in the house. After bathing and dressing for bed, he sat on the floor of his rooms, papers spread over the floor in front of him. There were also books, old and weathered, on which ancient script had been scrawled. The overhead light was off, so the only light in the room came from the four candles around him. Tetsuya inhaled deeply listening attentively to the rhythm of his own heartbeat, the flow of his blood, and the buzz of something foreign within him. The awakening of it had been a gift from his beloved. A gift that had become a curse.

It was that foreign thing that he reached for now, plucking off a small piece - sparing a moment to savour the familiarity of it – and shaping it with his mind. When Tetsuya was comfortable with the feel it, he opened his eyes, what he saw was not the room his body was in, but an endless stretch of black. He held up the small ball, watching as it hovered above his head, before he began to form it, not unlike a sculptor working a mound of clay. Tetsuya remembered the pattern that he'd formed at his last Judgement. It was the most logical place to begin, since Midorima had said that that attempt had been his closest yet.

He shaped the ball of matter into curves that twisted in on themselves, sharp edges that resembled the jagged teeth of a shark, and smooth, wavy lines that reminded him of a gentle mountain stream. Tetsuya stood back, taking in the scene that had formed and, using his memory, laid it over the image he had to arrange his own work into.

It frustrated him to know that he just couldn't see it. His lover had seen it, because he would not have given up all he had to chase something that was not. The others obviously did, or they wouldn't be putting up with his constant failures. But Tetsuya never could. Not quite. Not entirely. He sighed, taking one last look at the scene he'd woven before he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in his room once again, books and papers still scattered over the floor.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Though he'd often had the chance to view the newcomer to the household from afar, it was three months after the Lady's return that Tetsuya found the opportunity to be near the child. It was late at night and the entire house was silent. He had slipped out of his room without a sound and made his way up one of the winding staircases that led to the second floor. The house was large, ostentatiously so, and old, having housed many generations of this family, but this didn't intimidate Tetsuya. He felt the remnant, sought it out with single-minded focus. When he arrived at the room, he stood outside the door for a brief moment before entering.

He swiftly made his way to the crib in the middle of the room, not wanting to waste any time. Sneaking about the house in the middle of the night would be a difficult thing to explain if he were caught. He hovered over the crib, a small smile forming at the sight of the child. Pale skin. Red hair. Lips slightly pouted in deep sleep. The Master of the house had given him a name that would fit in with the family's traditions and legacy, but there was no denying who this child was, had been, and would always be. Akashi Seijuurou.

Tetsuya had planned to only look, drink in the familiarity of the remnant that emanated from that tiny body, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching down and running the pads of his fingers over the soft, soft skin of baby Akashi's face. His fingers lingered for a moment, before he tore himself from the crib and made his way back to his room. He slipped into bed and drifted off to sleep with the memories of the lives he'd shared with Akashi.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

With every hope that accompanied Akashi's death came the sting attached to his rebirth. Every time his lover died, he was reborn with no memories of the past, no memories of his true identity, no memories of Tetsuya. This was the way things had been prescribed, so each attempt was a new slate.

But Tetsuya remembered. He lived with the pain and loneliness of being forgotten, and the burden of trying to rouse Akashi's memories. It had been difficult, but over the years, Akashi's resolve had begun to defy the rules set by the Keepers. Tetsuya was unsure if this was a good thing, but he was thankful for it and overwhelmed by Akashi's trust in his supposed ability.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The years rolled on as Tetsuya continued to work in the service of Akashi's new family, becoming one of the boy's caretakers. The development of his mark for his Judgement was slow, if at all existent. There were times when months would pass without him even touching the power within him. It was during one of these dry spells, on a cold night, that there was a knock at his door. At first Tetsuya thought he had imagined it, returning to his books without even thinking to check the door. But it came again; a quiet rapping at his door, followed by a small voice that called his name.

Tetsuya blinked, confused, before scurrying to the door, wrapping a thick robe around himself as he opened the door. Standing there, in pyjamas bearing the image of his favourite cartoon character, was an eight-year-old Akashi.

“I can't sleep,” Akashi declared before Tetsuya could inquire.

“Where is Yagami-san?” Tetsuya asked, referring to the boy's minder. The old woman slept upstairs in a small room close to the boy's own, making it easier to take to care of the child.

“I don't want her,” Akashi replied petulantly, reaching his hand out to grab at Tetsuya's wrist. “I want you. Come.” The child's grip was surprisingly strong and the tug was forceful.

“Wait,” Tetsuya protested. “Master-”

“That is an order, Tetsuya,” Akashi interrupted, not turning to look at his caretaker. Tetsuya relented, allowing himself to be led up the stairs and into the boy's bedroom. Tetsuya smothered the smile that played at his lips; Akashi never changed despite the lives he lived. He watched as the boy moved a chair to his bedside, grunting his exertion at the task. The boy removed his slippers and crawled into bed before patting the seat of the chair he'd moved. Tetsuya complied, seating himself and reaching out to stroke the boy's hair, more out of his own indulgence than to offer comfort.

“Tell me a story.” Tetsuya hummed at the request – no, the order – placing a finger on his chin for emphasis. “Please,” Akashi added.

“Very well,” Tetsuya relented, reaching over to pull the covers up to the boy's chest. “I'll tell you a story about the gods who ruled time.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The first time they had met was centuries ago, in a time of war and bloodshed. The attraction had not been instantaneous. If anything, Tetsuya had been quite put off by the pompous, arrogant red-haired commander that had protected and led his clan away from invading rebels. Later, Akashi had told him of how he had thought Tetsuya was purposely defiant, during their first days together, in an attempt to attract his attentions. Tetsuya had laughed at that. Despite their differences, they were able to forge a semblance of a friendship that later developed into something that would change their lives for all eternity.

Tetsuya, predictably, had not believed Akashi when the latter had confessed his true nature and identity as that of a Keeper. Keepers were the things of myths and legends, not the sorts of things that army commanders were to entertain. Akashi had insisted, but Tetsuya had continued to brush it off as a result of trauma from the war.

One time, though, Akashi had had enough of having his proclamation disregarded and mocked, so he had decided to show Tetsuya – an impulsive move on the Keeper's part, Tetsuya would later come to learn. In the middle of an eatery, as he glared at Tetsuya, Akashi stopped time with a simple wave of his hand – as though flicking away a fly - while the other hand held onto Tetsuya's.

Tetsuya had stared at the frozen scene with as much expression as his face would ever give, blinking only once as though the scene would be lost to him if he shut his eyes from it for even a moment. Akashi smirked at him, before unfreezing their surroundings and removing his hand from Tetsuya's, who had only been able to blink once more, letting the new information settle in his mind.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“I had a dream,” Akashi declared, sitting up in his bed as he watched his caretaker walk across the room to open the curtains covering the large window that overlooked his family's estate. Tetsuya hummed, acknowledging the young master's statement. “I dreamt I could stop time.” Tetsuya's hand stilled as he turned to look at a fourteen-year-old Akashi. His eyes met with the boy's for a moment as he considered what this could mean.

“Really?” Tetsuya replied. “That seems a most convenient ability to possess.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Akashi stated. “You were there, too. In my dream. But you looked different. Younger. Which is odd, since I've never seen pictures of you in your younger days.”

“I'm not that old, you know.”

“I'm know. But... even if you were that old, it wouldn't matter, as long as you're around.” Despite himself, Tetsuya felt his lips form into a smile, small and nostalgic.

“I'll be around as long as you need me,” he promised.

“That may be a long time.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Tetsuya stared down at the sheet of paper in front of him, a drawing he'd made of what he remembered of the Tapestry. He looked at the angles and curves, the peaks and valleys in the design of it, trying to superimpose a mental image of his own design onto it. To complete the task, his design – his mark – would have to blend and harmonise with the design that already existed. It seemed simple enough, but the number of deaths Akashi had suffered was an indication of how poorly Tetsuya had performed at this task.

Each time he failed, Akashi had given him a sympathetic look that had only twisted his insides as he'd buried his face into the crook of his lover's neck. Those memories wrung him out like an overused dish cloth left, and forgotten, in the sun. Until the next time he came to meet Akashi. It was a cycle, his cursed circle of existence, ever since he accepted Akashi's offer of eternity.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

He sat on the futon, bare-chested with his blanket-covered knees drawn to his chest like a fearful child - which he probably was, in his lover's eyes. Tetsuya allowed his eyes to drink their fill of the man in front of him, and even more, to render himself intoxicated by the sight of white skin, blemished only by the marks he'd left, and red hair - the colour of their lives since meeting. He watched as Akashi dressed himself with sartorial precision, hair falling over his eyes as he focused his attention on tying the hakama over his plain kimono. Tetsuya enjoyed these moments as much, if not more, than those he spent removing the commander's robes. Resting his chin on his knee, he tilted his head to the side as he watched, and scrutinised, and savoured, and memorised.

“You must not have much faith in me, Tetsuya,” Akashi said, his hands never halting. “You look at me as though I am dressing for my funeral.”

“I do not,” Tetsuya protested. “I watch you in this way because I do not know when next we will meet. Our time together is not endless.” Akashi stilled, and Tetsuya wondered if his lover had stopped time again, because in that moment, everything seemed to be suspended. There was not a sound to be heard, even the air seemed to have grown stale in the wake of Akashi's silence.

“It could be,” Akashi said after an agonisingly long pause, lifting his head to meet Tetsuya's puzzled expression.

“What?”

“Our time together, it could be endless.” It was Tetsuya's next word that had probably sealed their fates in this loop of love and failure, of loss and rebirth. It was with his response that Akashi had drawn him into a world of fantasy and promise, of beings with god-like abilities and human frailties.

“How?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Akashi was being particularly defiant this morning. Tetsuya had knocked on the teen's door twice already, in an attempt to get the boy to wake up. On his third try, he had simply walked in and headed straight for the window, opening the curtains with a harsh jerk. He walked over to the unnecessarily big bed, leaned over, and shook the boy. A groan was his reward, but the teen remained motionless.

Tetsuya seated himself on the bed, leaning in closer to the seventeen-year-old, who was buried deep under the covers. He had never thought Akashi could be this much of a handful. Against his better judgement, Tetsuya crawled right up to the teen, his foot dangling over the edge of the bed, and leaned his head down so his words would fall into the teen's ear.

“Young master,” he said. “It's time to wa-” It was all he could get out before a hand shot out from under the covers, quickly grabbing his wrist, and pulled, causing him to lose his balance and topple onto the bed. He bit his lip to stifle the urge to curse – he'd learned a multitude of ways to do so over the years – as the teen scrambled to take advantage of the situation, pinning Tetsuya down, partly with his body, but mostly with his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Tetsuya's tone was low and laced with a combination of warning and incredulity. The teen simply stared down at him with, what Tetsuya guessed, was the intensity of a snake observing its prey before devouring it. An all too familiar smirk blossomed on the boy's face, drawing a startled gasp from the older man.

“You have aged yourself well,” the teen remarked.

“Akashi-kun?”

“It has been a long time, Tetsuya.”

Chapter Text

“You cannot be serious,” Midorima huffed, incredulous anger palpable in his voice. “You simply cannot!”

“This is not a discussion, Shintarou,” Akashi stated, eyeing the taller man with, what could only be described as, forceful indifference. “It's a declaration. I thought it wiser to inform, at least, you instead of simply going forward with my plan.” Akashi watched as his successor shifted back, uncomfortable. Though their bodies were, most likely, in different parts of the world, their minds met in the space that all Keepers shared when they inhabited the human realm – a place where time and matter did not exist, and all there was, was colour.

“Of course,” Akashi continued, “in my absence, you will assume the role of leader over the others. I have utmost faith in your abilities. I do believe you will not disappoint me.” They hovered in a silence made heavy by the oppressive dark blue that surrounded them.

“You realise that you will be breaking the very laws that you established,” Midorima said, his face twisted in thoughtful turmoil. “And if this plan of yours does not succeed, you may never be able to return to your position.”

“Which is just as well. If I fail, then that would mean I was wrong. I would scarcely be able to live with myself if that were so.”

“He is just a man, Akashi.” The plea weaved into Midorima's voice caused Akashi's resolve to falter for a brief moment, the colour of the space shifting from blue to black. “You are the First Keeper, the Guardian of Time. Why... why would you waste it all for the sake of one man.”

“Because it is what needs to be done.” Akashi's response was immediate, requiring no consideration. He'd deliberated over this very thing for a while now, perhaps since the day he'd met Tetsuya. There was something about the man that brought a sense of completion to Akashi, and the Keeper was willing to stake all he was, that this feeling would be roused in every Keeper there was. “I believe you will grow to understand, as time goes on.” Midorima sighed, defeated, knowing that he would be unable to persuade his mentor from this ludicrous decision.

“You will come, then,” Akashi stated without Midorima having to say a word. “We will be waiting for you.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Tetsuya didn't know what time it was, the light outside had long since faded, but he sat at his desk, mind mulling over the ancient texts on the pages in his hand. He sighed in frustration, absent-mindedly scratching the inside of his wrist, a nervous habit he'd developed some time ago. Akashi's true self had awoken, and Tetsuya was no closer to refining his mark for Judgement. Though having Akashi regain his memories always brought a great sense of wholeness, it also brought unease, because it signified the nearness of his Judgement. It was bitter-sweet.

So caught up was he in his thoughts and worries, he barely registered the soft shuffling of slippered feet outside his door, before it opened and closed again. Tetsuya didn't turn around, even as the shuffling came nearer and hands rested on his shoulders. After a short time had passed, the figure behind him leaned down so that their cheeks almost touched.

“You work too hard, Tetsuya,” Akashi said, a slight teasing tone to his voice. “You barely even welcomed me home today.” The twenty years old had chosen to return home for the University vacation, forgoing the chance to visit Europe with his parents. Tetsuya fought the urge to roll his eyes, opting, instead, to exhale harshly and focus his attention on the pages in front of him.

“It is necessary, Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya offered. “I don't know how much longer we can keep this up.” He bit his lip as he caught sight of Akashi's brow furrowing in confusion. “Aomine-kun hinted to that particular fact. He said that you don't have forever.” Akashi sighed, his breath winnowing over Tetsuya's neck, warm and minty.

“To be honest,” Akashi said, voice even and unreadable. “I would have thought Ryouta would be the one to be so careless with his words. I'm surprised. And moved. But still indignant over your lack of enthusiasm over my return.”

“This isn't a joke, Akashi-kun.”

“Nor am I treating it as one, Tetsuya. I am well aware of the risks involved, and I purposely omitted to inform you of them, because of the pressure I knew you would put yourself under.”

“You should have told me.” Tetsuya pushed the chair back and stood, turning his body to face Akashi, keeping the chair between them. “You should... never-”

“Regrets have never done you any good,” Akashi interrupted. “In any case, these are not your regrets to have. They are mine. I will reflect on them, should the need ever arise.” Tetsuya looked away, unable to stand firm in the surety written in his lover's eyes, not when all he'd ever been able to offer was failure. He shifted his eyes to look at the floor, unconsciously following lines of the meticulously polished, wooden boards. He felt fingers rake through his hair, starting at the temples where his hair had begun to grey with the age he'd allowed his body to experience.

The hand stilled for a moment before it withdrew. Tetsuya then felt Akashi trail a finger, slowly, down the side of his face, along his jawline, down his neck, finally sweeping across his collarbone. Tetsuya shuddered.

“You haven't let me touch you, even once, since I regained myself,” Akashi said, almost wistfully, bringing more fingers to dance across the skin of Tetsuya's neck. It was as though their recent conversation had not even taken place. “It is a most cruel torture you have decided to inflict upon me.” He smiled as he felt Tetsuya's soft chuckle vibrate through his fingers.

“It's different this time, Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya said returning his gaze to settle on Akashi's face, a light pink blossoming across his pale cheeks. “I used to change your diaper, you know.” It was Akashi's turn to chuckle.

“I can see how that can make things uncomfortable.” The Keeper tilted his head to the side, eyes trained on Tetsuya as his fingers slowly unbuttoned his lover's night-shirt.

“Then you understand how awkward it is. It's difficult to put all of that aside.” Akashi said nothing, busying himself with the buttons of Tetsuya's shirt. When the task was complete, he ran deft fingers down from Tetsuya's collarbone to his navel. The chair scraped across the floor as Akashi moved it aside, before pulling Tetsuya's body against his own.

“Then,” Akashi offered, his voice barely above a whisper, lips grazing against his lover's jaw. “Allow me to assist in quashing those memories, and remind you of far more pleasant ones.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The tension was suffocating, the tall man glared at him with green eyes that seemed to accuse him of a most heinous crime. Akashi had warned him that his successor, Midorima Shintarou, was not an easy man to impress, and Tetsuya had thought he was prepared. But, as he sat opposite the Keeper, he knew he had not been. Shortly after arriving at the commander's home, Akashi had ushered the tall man into his study that overlooked the garden. The two had had a short meeting before Akashi had called Tetsuya in and excused himself.

“I assume Akashi has already informed you of what will take place today?” Midorima asked, though it felt as though the Keeper was bringing upon him a judgement from the depths of the abyss. Tetsuya nodded, voice lost in the storm brewing in his mind. “Then, we should not waste anymore time.” Midorima reached into the large, leathery pouch that lay next to him on the mats. The leather was embossed with a number of foreign designs and lettering that Tetsuya did not recognise.

He watched as Midorima pulled out a scroll of average size, though it seemed to be unnaturally heavy. The Keeper quickly spread the scroll across the low table between them, gesturing for Tetsuya to sit beside him. When he looked down at the scroll, his breath stopped momentarily, so awed was he by the script inscribed in gold ink across paper that was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

“These are the Rights of the First Keeper,” Midorima explained. “Akashi, having been born at the dawn of time, is known as the First Keeper, the greatest of all Keepers.” Tetsuya nodded, letting his mind absorb this new information – Akashi had never spoken of the details of his life and origins, Tetsuya had never asked. He continued to stare in wonder at the scroll, not wanting to look into the emerald eyes he knew were glaring down at him. “Akashi has decided to cede his Rights so as to afford you the opportunity to become one of us.” The Keeper pointed at the five, red stains at the bottom of the page.

“Furthermore,” Midorima continued. “In ceding his Rights, he has requested that you be granted the greatest measure of his immortality, whereas he shall retain a small measure for the purposes of re-birthing himself; a rather primitive form of immortality. Do you follow?” Tetsuya didn't understand, couldn't understand, but he nodded anyway.

“Because of this, you will become immortal, in a sense, but you will be bound to the human realm. We will allow you access to one of the lesser realms for the sake of your preparations, but nothing more.” Tetsuya's head was spinning with Midorima's words, the burden laid on his shoulders, the expectations and the implications. He finally willed himself to tear his gaze from the scroll and fix it on the Keeper's face.

“This is your task, Tetsuya of the Kuroko Clan,” Midorima announced. “To weave yourself, your mark, into the very fabric of time; the Keepers' Tapestry. Achieve this goal, and you will be granted the Rights of a Keeper and immortality will be yours. If you are able to do this, Akashi's Rights, title, and powers will be re-instated to him in full.”

“And if I fail?” Tetsuya asked, his voice small and unsure, as though coming from a great distance away. Akashi had told him, but he needed to hear it again.

“Fail, and he will die. Continue to fail and he will continue to die, until... until he changes his mind or we deem this entire plan a failure, and remove you both.” Tetsuya nodded, his body suddenly numb. He watched as Midorima pulled out a dagger engraved with same foreign writing on the scroll. The handle was lacklustre gold, wrapped in a pattern of twisting dragons. “Do you accept?”

Tetsuya hesitated, torn between his selfish desire for eternity with Akashi and fear over possible failure. Midorima stared at him, long and hard, never pushing for an answer, seemingly pleased that Tetsuya was aware of the gravity of the situation. After what felt like hours, Tetsuya nodded.

“I accept.” Midorima gave a final, searching look before grabbing Tetsuya's hand and slicing through the skin of his fingertips and pressing the bleeding appendages to the page, under the smears left by Akashi.

“I can only wish you luck,” Midorima offered as he neatly rolled up the scroll and returned it to his pouch. “I must believe that Akashi is right about you.”

That night, under the cover of darkness, they wished each other farewell in a way that had become natural to them. While the sky was still dark, Tetsuya slipped out of the house and made his way into town, to the place he called home when Akashi was away. The commander was never seen again. Though, a short distance from his home, soldiers found the remains of what, they concluded, had been an unusually large fire.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“You're over-thinking things, Tetsuya,” Akashi stated. “This is your distress.” The former Keeper had been watching as Tetsuya chewed sporadically at his lips, worrying over the books and papers scattered about the floor. Tetsuya looked up, eyes devoid of all emotion, save for one: anxiety. It was etched so firmly on the shorter man's face that Akashi found it difficult to be unaffected.

“Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya whispered. “I don't know if I can do this. What if...”

Akashi sighed, closing the book he had been reading. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and looked down at Tetsuya. “Of course you can,” the Keeper declared solemnly. “If you couldn't, I wouldn't be here. Nor would you.”

“But-”

“Every Keeper born has had to thread themselves into the Tapestry. It is the way in which our immortality is gained, becoming inextricably linked to the very fabric of time. Even I had to. It is our rite of passage.”

“You were the First Keeper. How did you...”

“It's a long and captivating story, that I shall relay to you upon completion of the task. Right now, know this: while I am a being that appreciates the rational and the logical, a Keeper's mark does not necessitate these things. Not entirely. You've come this far, mostly, by feeling your way through the dark. Do not abandon that simply because you've dulled your instincts with knowledge gained from others.”

“That tells me nothing, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi chuckled. “On the contrary, Tetsuya. What I've just said, if truly considered, is everything.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The moon sat high in the sky, watching over them, lending its light through the uncovered window of Akashi's study. His parents were away on a business trip to some exotic destination, which had worked out well, allowing them time and space for what was to take place. Tetsuya sat in one of the plush, high-backed chairs, his hands clenching and relaxing atop his knees as his eyes traced the patterns on the rug beneath their feet.

Sitting across from Tetsuya, in a similar chair, was Kagami - the youngest Keeper, thus far. Akashi sat behind the large, mahogany desk that dominated the room, looking at them with mild interest. The room was alive with shadows cast by the silvery light of the moon and the golden glow of the candles. The three of them had been sitting there, in silence, for the last hour or so, waiting for Kagami to receive confirmation about the Judgement. After another hour of waiting, Kagami cleared his throat.

“They're ready for your, Kuroko,” the Keeper announced, sparing a glance at the redhead that stared at them from behind the desk. Kagami was born after Akashi had ceded his Rights, so he knew little about the First Guardian of Time, but he'd come to admire the shorter redhead for his decision to craft Tetsuya into a Keeper. “We can begin.”

Tetsuya exhaled loudly, reaching for the hand that Kagami offered, stealing a brief look at Akashi, who graced him with a small smile. As Kagami's hand closed around his own, he felt a sharp pain pierce through his head and down his spine. He managed a surprised gasp before his body went limp and everything turned black.

When he awoke, he was in a familiar space, not unlike the place his mind travelled to when he physically prepared his mark. However, this place was more vibrant and the colours shifted constantly. Hovering around him, were the other Keepers. Midorima was opposite him, staring him down with steady eyes.

“Shall we begin?” Midorima asked. Tetsuya nodded in response, steadying himself. He was ready.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“Why did you choose me?” Tetsuya asked. They stood together, gazing out of the window that overlooked one of the cobble-stoned streets of Rome. It was late and the house was quiet, but that suited them perfectly. Akashi's arms were wrapped around Tetsuya's waist, his chin resting on the other's shoulder as they watched the stillness outside.

“I didn't choose you,” Akashi stated. “Not exactly. I only recognised that which is inside you, that which was not earthly, but would not come into full existence without aid. Without you and what you posses, the Keeper's would not be completed.”

“I don't understand.”

“And you probably won't until you have been granted your Rights.” Tetsuya hummed thoughtfully, trying to interpret the words. Akashi insisted on being as vague as possible when it came to this, offering no, clear assistance. It was frustrating, but Tetsuya deduced that it was most likely in accordance with the rules that governed the Judgement.

“However,” Akashi continued. “This,” he squeezed his arms a little tighter around Tetsuya, “I chose. It is perhaps, because of this, that made the decision to do what needed to be done feel easier. I may not have chosen you, but I chose to have thiswith you, because it is what I desired most.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The space shook violently. A whisper of panic ran through Tetsuya as he noted the alarm on the faces of the Keepers. Or, perhaps it was surprise. After what felt like hours, the rumbling and trembling died down and the colour shifted into a pale blue streaked with wisps of white. The colour and feeling that emanated from it was akin to that of a summer sky. Midorima moved toward him with a cold expression painted on his face, this only served to fan the panic that ran riot within him. He opened his mouth to speak, but found that his voice had left him.

A small smile formed on the Keeper's face as he reached into the long sleeve of his robes and produced a scroll similar to the one he'd seen the first time they'd met, all those years ago. Only, while still more exquisite than the ones he had seen on earth, it was not as grand in appearance as Akashi's. Tetsuya stared at the scroll, afraid to blink, afraid to breathe.

“Congratulations, Kuroko,” Midorima said, confirming what he had dreamed of for aeons. He blinked once, staring at the bundle in the Keeper's hand, then looked up into Midorima's cold face, softened only by the small smile that still graced his features. “You have done well. Akashi will certainly be proud.”

He felt his lips split into the widest smile he recalled ever giving, inhaling deeply, as though it was the first breath he'd breathed in years.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Tetsuya sat before of Akashi, dressed in a fine, silk yukata that the commander had bought for him on his most recent assignment to the west. The Keeper was also dressed casually, though his yukata was darker and bolder, with fewer designs. They were seated in one of the entertainment rooms of Akashi's home.

Akashi had been telling him of the process involved in becoming a Keeper. Tetsuya had listened attentively as Akashi had spoken of Judgements, and immortality, and duties, so awed was he by the world that his lover's words created in his mind.

They now sat in silence, Akashi staring out of the open panels that led to the garden, Tetsuya weaving his fingers together, pondering.

“Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya spoke finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “You would do this? For me?”

The Keeper turned his gaze on his lover, taking in the anxiety in his mannerisms and the doubt in his eyes. He exhaled slowly.

“It would not be an entirely selfless act on my part, Tetsuya,” Akashi confessed. “There are other reasons for this offer, ones that you do not have the ability to comprehend at this time. But, yes. I would do this for you, should you accept.” Tetsuya smiled imperceptibly, and tilted his head to the side, considering the man in front of him. Akashi was not one for sentiments, so Tetsuya would take what he could.

“Then,” Tetsuya declared. “I accept.”

The End.

Or, rather, The Beginning.