From The New World [1/1]
Kuroko no Basuke; KagaKuro; ~1,600; PG-13
summary: With hope, the introduction to Kuroko Tetsuya's debut novel: From The New World
For feixing♥
Prompt: Dystopia
also, my first ever dystopian fic. ;;
From The New World
A dystopia is a community or society, usually fictional, that is in some important way undesirable or frightening.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dystopia
All of ‘em, Kagami thinks, eyes darting from listless face to listless face as he walks down the narrow alley sandwiched between corrugated iron-roof housing. We’re all the same, huh.
Ever since the Flaring, the Theocracy has been in power. At that time, families were torn asunder by war, love killed by heartache, and hope, nothing but a stillborn. Nobody questioned the new Order that promised an unending peace. The Theocracy teaches them the Way: One Person, One World, One Order. Everything is predestined, we are all the same person, all genetically identical. If we hate, we hate ourselves. If we love, we love ourselves.
There was something different about today, but Kagami couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The soil was damp under his soles, as they always were since Earth No. 2 covered the sky like an impenetrable pall. Walls were covered with splotches of dirt like stubborn coffee stains, the air stank of decay…it was the people. Their faces betrayed nothing, a façade of complete serenity, betrayed only by feet playing to the dance of their feelings.
It was that slight air of hurried impatience that displaced the calm pervading the slums. It made Kagami jittery and nervous. When this happened, it meant the Equalisers were around. The Theocracy’s policemen. Grey faces were hastening away from the crossroad in front, and somewhere above his growing apprehension, Kagami was dimly aware of the dark, chanting tune of the Theocracy’s anthem.
As Kagami swiveled around the bend, the sight of a lady collapsed in mud, sobbing uncontrollably, burned itself into his memory. Light blue hair, disheveled around her fragile head, caked with mud, made the link for him. Her head snapped upwards suddenly, eyes bulging and distraught, before an unearthly scream ripped from her throat - at such an intensity her throat erupted with veins. She balled her fists up and tucked her chin, shoulders hunching in a Herculean effort to quell her sadness, before caving. Her tiny fists pounded the soft ground in anguished frustration, cheeks wet with tears and mouth contorted grotesquely for an inexpressible scream.
Kagami’s chest twisted into a painful knot as he approached her, mind fumbling with what he should do.
“…Mrs. Tetsuya?”
-
It’s two past Moonrise when Mrs. Tetsuya has finally fallen asleep. Tetsu’s home is typical of slum housing - an iron-roof, flaking clay walls, recycled wooden flooring - but in a way, it reminded Kagami of Tetsu in a few ways. Perhaps the neatness of the apartment did that. Or the deflated basketball jammed in a corner. Or the smell that only Tetsu had.
From the time he carried Mrs. Tetsuya on his back, to her slumbering, Kagami learnt on broken accounts what caused her complete breakdown. Kuroko has mentioned his mother had never recovered from his father’s death. Mr. Tetsuya had been slaughtered in front of her, pulled apart limb by limb, for “treason”.
She had merely wanted to return to the forest that fringes Slum A-7. That was where she had her first encounter with the only person she’d ever loved as a woman. However, her time was not allocated for that; at three past Moonfall, Yura Kuroko was determined by the System that she was to be in Factory 834, sewing buttons on shirts. The System found out - nothing escapes the system - and Equalisers were sent to remind her of her duties as a responsible citizen of the Established World.
Technology was kept amongst the elite, a secret guarded fiercely by fear and lust. The absence of videos and song would render slum-dwellers transfixed by any display.
The Equalisers showed her the footage of Mr. Tetsuya’s tortured death - everything, colours and sounds: his roars of unimaginable pain, mixed with her futile, sobbing, screaming begs in the background.
And Yura Kuroko could only watch, transfixed.
-
It’s another hour before the creaking door jolts Kagami out of sleep. Kuroko’s slightly more than a silhouette against the artificial streetlight pouring through the splintered frame, but Kagami catches his azure eyes widening in surprise.
“Kagami-kun?”
“I brought your mom home. She’s sleeping,” Kagami informed, mind still groggy, stifling a yawn.
Kuroko is silent, but his jaw shifts slightly. Kagami mistakenly thinks the boy is relieved. No doubt the Order would have informed everyone related to Mrs. Tetsuya of her predicament. The System runs on constant fear as one of its main operating principles.
“You what?” The reply is sharp and brimmed with fury. Kagami backs up against the wall and tries to stand as Kuroko crosses the room in angry strides, his unreadable emotions now clear as day. “You what?”
“What?” He frowns as Kuroko glances at his mother’s room, before glaring back at him.
“Kagami-kun, we never, never disobey the Order,” The boy stresses, clearly upset. “What you did would land us all into trouble.”
“And I’m supposed to let your mother cry herself to death in the middle of the road?” Kagami demands, heat boiling in his body.
“If she’s supposed to be alright, she will be. It’s predestined.”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” He gaps in disbelief.
When there is no reply, except for his own heavy breathing, Kagami violently forces Kuroko to face him by the shoulders.
“Kuroko.”
“Leave.”
Really? Kagami didn’t understand in the slightest bit why Kuroko was so furious, but if he was still unhappy from before -
“Is this about before?”
“…No.”
“This is about before isn’t it? Whether we believe in the Order or not, and you do, but I don’t -“
“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko’s eyes flashed and that caused Kagami to falter, words failing but gut clenching with every second.
“You really think we’re the same person? You think everyone here are the same? One Person, One World, One Order?”
In the quiet that spans, there’s a faint tinkling of a rusty bicycle bell outside Tetsu’s home, a pathetic honk of a broken van horn, the whistling of night air through floorboard gaps. Kagami searches Kuroko’s face - an indecipherable, beautiful, beautiful, painting - and desperately prays, despite his anger, that he is wrong.
“…My father died because he disobeyed the Order. He disobeyed God.”
It takes a second for Kagami to register the quiet answer, blinking. Kuroko is looking down, arm slack by his sides, and Kagami lets go of him. Suddenly, he’s reduced to feeling like a child, foolish and short-sighted, and he treads carefully - for hearts are fragile, the night is quiet, and Kagami realizes his heart is pounding between bands of bone.
“Well, I think the Order is bullshit,” He mentally congratulates himself for not flinching when Kuroko faces him disapprovingly. That boy had looks that could kill. “We can choose what we want. Nothing is predestined. I believe that much.”
Kuroko holds his gaze for so long it’s a struggle not to squirm, before thin lips broke into a smile. Kagami silently exhales, but frowns in confusion when Kuroko chuckles.
“I…want to believe that, too,” The boy says, eyes glinting.
Something in Kuroko’s smile entrances Kagami, makes his heart skip a beat and his fingers to go between smaller ones. Blue eyes lose their spark and turn a dangerous shade, as Kagami bends down. Their noses brush and Kuroko tilts his head away, eyebrows drawing together.
“Stop. This is not the Way.”
“Believe in us first,” Kagami thinks he’s going to pass out from not breathing, think he’s definitely not fucking losing this time.
“We can’t win this fight,” Kuroko faces him, serious, and somehow Kagami knows in that tiny body, there already burns a fire flickering against the frigidity of their world. “We can’t win against God.”
“That’s not going to stop me from fighting. Will it stop you?”
Hands close gently around Kagami’s shoulders, and his breath catches as Kuroko draws close. Soft lips press against his, Kagami thinks his knees buckle, and his stomach falls through his feet. When Kuroko pulls away, he’s left breathless and more than a little faint.
“We’re going to hell together,” Kuroko says, smirking mischievously - most probably at how stupid Kagami looks right now (but it’s okay he’ll get Kuroko back for that later) - and then closing the space between them again. This time, hard, deep, with hands balling into fists in Kagami’s shirt and hair.
“Well, fuck God,” Kagami says breathlessly, lips bruised and staring blearily at Kuroko. “I’ll be a sinner any time over a fuckin’ goody preacher if it means I get to kiss you like that.”
“That’s blasphemous.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Kagami snarls, pretending to be annoyed as Kuroko grins, arms pulling him close, chin resting on blue spikes.
For Kuroko, he sees the New World in Kagami: one of kindness, selflessness, and love. He remembers what they have now - piles of unused metal pipes by the roads, the ground soaked black and walls patterned with dried blood, and the Theocracy’s anthem in the background, a low buzzing sound - and realizes: it is not permanent.
He thinks he sees a little of Kagami’s dream now, that vision he has of a New World. It is beautiful, and clean, and kind. Where people are different, where there is freedom. Instead of metal piles there will be flowers. Instead of blood there will be laughter. Instead of copper scaffolding there will be blue skies and sun. Instead of a monotonous chant, the air will be filled with birdsongs and the roar of crashing waves.
And as Kuroko writes his story, he wants it to be from the New World - he one that Kagami promises.
The one that we deserve.
Notes
Comments are always appreciated!:)
summary: With hope, the introduction to Kuroko Tetsuya's debut novel: From The New World
For feixing♥
Prompt: Dystopia
also, my first ever dystopian fic. ;;
From The New World
A dystopia is a community or society, usually fictional, that is in some important way undesirable or frightening.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dystopia
All of ‘em, Kagami thinks, eyes darting from listless face to listless face as he walks down the narrow alley sandwiched between corrugated iron-roof housing. We’re all the same, huh.
Ever since the Flaring, the Theocracy has been in power. At that time, families were torn asunder by war, love killed by heartache, and hope, nothing but a stillborn. Nobody questioned the new Order that promised an unending peace. The Theocracy teaches them the Way: One Person, One World, One Order. Everything is predestined, we are all the same person, all genetically identical. If we hate, we hate ourselves. If we love, we love ourselves.
There was something different about today, but Kagami couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The soil was damp under his soles, as they always were since Earth No. 2 covered the sky like an impenetrable pall. Walls were covered with splotches of dirt like stubborn coffee stains, the air stank of decay…it was the people. Their faces betrayed nothing, a façade of complete serenity, betrayed only by feet playing to the dance of their feelings.
It was that slight air of hurried impatience that displaced the calm pervading the slums. It made Kagami jittery and nervous. When this happened, it meant the Equalisers were around. The Theocracy’s policemen. Grey faces were hastening away from the crossroad in front, and somewhere above his growing apprehension, Kagami was dimly aware of the dark, chanting tune of the Theocracy’s anthem.
As Kagami swiveled around the bend, the sight of a lady collapsed in mud, sobbing uncontrollably, burned itself into his memory. Light blue hair, disheveled around her fragile head, caked with mud, made the link for him. Her head snapped upwards suddenly, eyes bulging and distraught, before an unearthly scream ripped from her throat - at such an intensity her throat erupted with veins. She balled her fists up and tucked her chin, shoulders hunching in a Herculean effort to quell her sadness, before caving. Her tiny fists pounded the soft ground in anguished frustration, cheeks wet with tears and mouth contorted grotesquely for an inexpressible scream.
Kagami’s chest twisted into a painful knot as he approached her, mind fumbling with what he should do.
“…Mrs. Tetsuya?”
-
It’s two past Moonrise when Mrs. Tetsuya has finally fallen asleep. Tetsu’s home is typical of slum housing - an iron-roof, flaking clay walls, recycled wooden flooring - but in a way, it reminded Kagami of Tetsu in a few ways. Perhaps the neatness of the apartment did that. Or the deflated basketball jammed in a corner. Or the smell that only Tetsu had.
From the time he carried Mrs. Tetsuya on his back, to her slumbering, Kagami learnt on broken accounts what caused her complete breakdown. Kuroko has mentioned his mother had never recovered from his father’s death. Mr. Tetsuya had been slaughtered in front of her, pulled apart limb by limb, for “treason”.
She had merely wanted to return to the forest that fringes Slum A-7. That was where she had her first encounter with the only person she’d ever loved as a woman. However, her time was not allocated for that; at three past Moonfall, Yura Kuroko was determined by the System that she was to be in Factory 834, sewing buttons on shirts. The System found out - nothing escapes the system - and Equalisers were sent to remind her of her duties as a responsible citizen of the Established World.
Technology was kept amongst the elite, a secret guarded fiercely by fear and lust. The absence of videos and song would render slum-dwellers transfixed by any display.
The Equalisers showed her the footage of Mr. Tetsuya’s tortured death - everything, colours and sounds: his roars of unimaginable pain, mixed with her futile, sobbing, screaming begs in the background.
And Yura Kuroko could only watch, transfixed.
-
It’s another hour before the creaking door jolts Kagami out of sleep. Kuroko’s slightly more than a silhouette against the artificial streetlight pouring through the splintered frame, but Kagami catches his azure eyes widening in surprise.
“Kagami-kun?”
“I brought your mom home. She’s sleeping,” Kagami informed, mind still groggy, stifling a yawn.
Kuroko is silent, but his jaw shifts slightly. Kagami mistakenly thinks the boy is relieved. No doubt the Order would have informed everyone related to Mrs. Tetsuya of her predicament. The System runs on constant fear as one of its main operating principles.
“You what?” The reply is sharp and brimmed with fury. Kagami backs up against the wall and tries to stand as Kuroko crosses the room in angry strides, his unreadable emotions now clear as day. “You what?”
“What?” He frowns as Kuroko glances at his mother’s room, before glaring back at him.
“Kagami-kun, we never, never disobey the Order,” The boy stresses, clearly upset. “What you did would land us all into trouble.”
“And I’m supposed to let your mother cry herself to death in the middle of the road?” Kagami demands, heat boiling in his body.
“If she’s supposed to be alright, she will be. It’s predestined.”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” He gaps in disbelief.
When there is no reply, except for his own heavy breathing, Kagami violently forces Kuroko to face him by the shoulders.
“Kuroko.”
“Leave.”
Really? Kagami didn’t understand in the slightest bit why Kuroko was so furious, but if he was still unhappy from before -
“Is this about before?”
“…No.”
“This is about before isn’t it? Whether we believe in the Order or not, and you do, but I don’t -“
“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko’s eyes flashed and that caused Kagami to falter, words failing but gut clenching with every second.
“You really think we’re the same person? You think everyone here are the same? One Person, One World, One Order?”
In the quiet that spans, there’s a faint tinkling of a rusty bicycle bell outside Tetsu’s home, a pathetic honk of a broken van horn, the whistling of night air through floorboard gaps. Kagami searches Kuroko’s face - an indecipherable, beautiful, beautiful, painting - and desperately prays, despite his anger, that he is wrong.
“…My father died because he disobeyed the Order. He disobeyed God.”
It takes a second for Kagami to register the quiet answer, blinking. Kuroko is looking down, arm slack by his sides, and Kagami lets go of him. Suddenly, he’s reduced to feeling like a child, foolish and short-sighted, and he treads carefully - for hearts are fragile, the night is quiet, and Kagami realizes his heart is pounding between bands of bone.
“Well, I think the Order is bullshit,” He mentally congratulates himself for not flinching when Kuroko faces him disapprovingly. That boy had looks that could kill. “We can choose what we want. Nothing is predestined. I believe that much.”
Kuroko holds his gaze for so long it’s a struggle not to squirm, before thin lips broke into a smile. Kagami silently exhales, but frowns in confusion when Kuroko chuckles.
“I…want to believe that, too,” The boy says, eyes glinting.
Something in Kuroko’s smile entrances Kagami, makes his heart skip a beat and his fingers to go between smaller ones. Blue eyes lose their spark and turn a dangerous shade, as Kagami bends down. Their noses brush and Kuroko tilts his head away, eyebrows drawing together.
“Stop. This is not the Way.”
“Believe in us first,” Kagami thinks he’s going to pass out from not breathing, think he’s definitely not fucking losing this time.
“We can’t win this fight,” Kuroko faces him, serious, and somehow Kagami knows in that tiny body, there already burns a fire flickering against the frigidity of their world. “We can’t win against God.”
“That’s not going to stop me from fighting. Will it stop you?”
Hands close gently around Kagami’s shoulders, and his breath catches as Kuroko draws close. Soft lips press against his, Kagami thinks his knees buckle, and his stomach falls through his feet. When Kuroko pulls away, he’s left breathless and more than a little faint.
“We’re going to hell together,” Kuroko says, smirking mischievously - most probably at how stupid Kagami looks right now (but it’s okay he’ll get Kuroko back for that later) - and then closing the space between them again. This time, hard, deep, with hands balling into fists in Kagami’s shirt and hair.
“Well, fuck God,” Kagami says breathlessly, lips bruised and staring blearily at Kuroko. “I’ll be a sinner any time over a fuckin’ goody preacher if it means I get to kiss you like that.”
“That’s blasphemous.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Kagami snarls, pretending to be annoyed as Kuroko grins, arms pulling him close, chin resting on blue spikes.
For Kuroko, he sees the New World in Kagami: one of kindness, selflessness, and love. He remembers what they have now - piles of unused metal pipes by the roads, the ground soaked black and walls patterned with dried blood, and the Theocracy’s anthem in the background, a low buzzing sound - and realizes: it is not permanent.
He thinks he sees a little of Kagami’s dream now, that vision he has of a New World. It is beautiful, and clean, and kind. Where people are different, where there is freedom. Instead of metal piles there will be flowers. Instead of blood there will be laughter. Instead of copper scaffolding there will be blue skies and sun. Instead of a monotonous chant, the air will be filled with birdsongs and the roar of crashing waves.
And as Kuroko writes his story, he wants it to be from the New World - he one that Kagami promises.
The one that we deserve.
Notes
- I never meant any disrespect to any religion through this piece of work, only the false religion as portrayed in the text (which does not exist in real life). I apologize to any who are offended with my dialogue. ;~;
- Also, because I love contextualizing my AUs, Moonrise is around 6pm, while Moonfall is around 9am. ;;
- Only meant to be a practice piece of work, and not a serious piece of work, so I'm sorry if this doesn't satisfy anybody. OTL
- I have no idea what the fuck tetsu's mom's name is, please correct me
- i keep switching between tetsu and kuroko can somebody tell me what is appropriate they both sound right ;;
- because i'm a slow fuck i'm only at volumbe 8 of knb so i probably fucked their characterization up somewhere along the way i apologize for that ;;
- Those of you who have noticed, yes, the title of the fic is inspired by the anime's title: Shin Sekai Yori
- Finally...my first time onto livejournal in a very long time. Hello F-list, and sorry for disappearing. :\
Comments are always appreciated!:)