Chapter 3

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Loud crashes sounded from outside the door of Kuroko's room. There were the sounds of glass breaking, dishes falling, and possibly-valuable objects thrown against the innocent door. Kuroko cringed and dug himself deeper under his blankets. Ibuki had returned home a couple of hours ago, and the constant crashes against his bedroom had continued endlessly.

"Tetsu-ya-k-u-n," Ibuki's sweet, poisonous voice crooned right outside the locked door. "Come and greet your mother, Tet-su-ya-kun." Shivers traveled down Kuroko's back. He fought to keep his tears back and remained silent, acting as if he were absent, just as his father told him to. "I know you're in there, Tetsu," his mother seductively purred. "I won't hurt you. Just open this door."

I have to call Otou-san, Kuroko dimly realized, but his phone was on his desk, and he was too paralyzed to take the heavy blankets off of him and reach for it. He was afraid he would somehow make noise from reaching that long one-foot distance from his bed to desk. His mother's sick voice and constant knocking made his blood run cold, so he was simply frozen on his bed.

"Tet-su-ya," Ibuki's voice turned cold. "It's not nice to keep your mother waiting. Where have your manners gone? Do I need to beat them into you, again, Tet-su-ya?"

The shaking started. Kuroko's body trembled in fear at the words and a few tears did leak from his bloodshot eyes. Go away, he begged silently. I'm not here. I'm invisible. Please, go away. There was a reason he had become so invisible. He wasn't born with being a "shadow". He trained himself as one.

"This is your last chance, Tetsuya," his mother hissed. "I don't care if it's locked. I'm going to get the screwdriver and take out this knob. Do you want that, Tetsu?" His name sounded disgusting from her lips. When he didn't answer, Ibuki's footsteps stomped far away from his room. Kuroko waited for what seemed like forever, hoping that the silence was a sign of hope. The hope grew bigger as seconds passed by without incident: until there was the sound of metal clinking together.

Kuroko's heart jumped. She's really doing it? She's going to break into my room? He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut. This was the one time where he hated being so weak, so helpless, so dependent. Even on the basketball courts, he needed someone. Without a partner, he would be nothing.

"I warned you, Tetsuya," his mother sang. "Once I get this knob off, I'm going to teach you a lesson about manners."

Kuroko realized he had to move. He had to escape. The thought of him surviving got him out of his paralysis. He yanked off his blanket covers. Cool air reached him, and he was able to take in a deep breath after hours of limited oxygen under the sheets. Gently, Kuroko pulled himself up—mindful of his ribs and head injuries—to swing his legs over the bed. He wobbled to an upright position, but quickly hunched over from the sudden pain around his abdomen area. His breath was sucked right out of him.

"You better not be running, Kuroko Tetsuya," Ibuki warned. "You wouldn't get the chance, anyway. The first two screws are off . . ."

The statement itself had the injured teen gritting his teeth and hobbling over to his jacket that hung on a coat rack. Quickly putting it over his naked upper half, he clumsily slipped on his extra pair of basketball shoes he kept under his desk. The last thing he grabbed was his phone.

"One more screw, my disobedient son."

He swallowed. Kuroko knew he didn't have time. It was only a matter of time before his mother came in and caught him. As fast as he could, he walked over to his large window and opened it. A ladder trap, activated every time the window opened, worked as usual; a long, swing ladder dropped down against the wall. His father had taught him this trick ever since Ibuki had become violent.

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