Kuroko No Basket Imagines. {KnB x Reader}

Makoto Hanamiya

-This has been completely re-written! 30/8/2016. Also this oneshot has elements of abuse, so if you are sensitive, please refrain from reading.-

  The deafening blow rings in your ears as your body is practically knocked into the ground. You don't even cry out because you're so used to the beatings. You don't remember when your father started to get violent with you, he's always been someone you could confide in. But ever since your mother passed away from an incurable illness. He resided in the comforts of alcoholism and never really plans to escape the cycle of a drunk. He'd come home and put his hands on you before waking up in the morning with no memory of doing so whatsoever. Your father pretends not to notice your battered up body that is spotted with black and blue bruises, and you ignore what happened the other night in silence. It's always been that way, but you know that you're going to break at some point, and you couldn't be more ready to do so. At this point, maybe even death looked brighter.

  The sun comes up at the crack of dawn, and you're still awake. In fact, you didn't sleep a wink last night. After another session of having his fists thrown at your face, you lock yourself in your room and just dissipate from reality. Your mind wanders endlessly, and you find yourself wallowing in the arms of your thoughts. You'd see your mother occasionally, and tears would stream down your face. She was like the glue that held you all together, but now that she's gone, the family is breaking apart. You groan as your aching muscles complain, you stand up slowly but surely though. Your trembling hands reach out to your closet, and you quickly shuffle on your uniform. You suck air into your cheeks as you examine the swollen lumps on your face. The bruises start to set in, and you look like you've been in a fight. Your teachers completely disregard you as a student, as they just assume you are a troubled child that gets into fights way too often. But that is a better assumption that having to be known as the poor abused child of a drunken father.

  You are careful not to slam the door too loudly, as you are scared to wake the man upstairs. The fridge is practically empty, and the spoiled milk from weeks ago still sits inside. You heave a sigh before grabbing your bag and heading out on your bike. Despite being in pain, you feel at peace as the warm morning breeze soothes your flaming hot skin. The throbbing in your face fades away and you close your eyes for a brief second. Riding your bike to school has always been your little escape journey before the dark school building came into view. Your callused hands park your vehicle easily and you sit outside the school with a book in hand. It's still overwhelmingly early to be at school, but it's the cost you have to pay to stay away from your father at all costs.

"Well, you're here early, aren't you?" a deep voice calls out into the crisp air and you turn your stiff neck around to see him.

"So are you, Makoto." you sigh and he lets out a small snicker as he starts to rattle the graffiti can in his stained hands.

"I thought I'd just pass by and leave a gift." he cackles before his lips break apart to reveal a set of malicious smile. "You look like you've had a rough night, got into a fight?"

"I guess you could say that." you brush it off elusively, but the man did not intend to stop prying there.

"You're a horrible liar, (Your Name)."

  Your muscles begin to tense up, but you quickly regain your composure and stare at him with an expression that is nothing but unreadable. Intimidation doesn't work with him, but Hanamiya's grin only grows bigger as he approaches you slowly. You try not to shrink away, but when he reaches over with his large hands, you twitch reflexively. His rough fingers nudge at your wounds, and his eyes grow deeper and your eyes are caught in his piercing gaze.

"You have such a beautiful face." he purrs as he glides his long index finger along your quivering jaw. "It's such a shame."