#;inchar

Though the answer he received was something to be expected, the level of disgust, aversion, that enveloped the green dragon’s being to the point where he almost visibly recoiled--- was absolutely not.

Of course the king loved her. He’d spared her and Hak on more than one occasion, as dangerous for him as it was. It was obvious he treasured the both of them dearly, or he would have had them taken care of in an instant. In fact, it probably wasn’t far-fetched to assume his feelings extended beyond those two... to King Il, himself.

The very man he’d murdered before Yona’s eyes, the father of the one person he exhibited such immense feelings for--- he had most likely loved him, too.

It took all of Jae-Ha’s strength to keep a straight face. He believed he was finally beginning to understand the nature of the circumstances that pushed those two to begin their journey, and all it had taken was a single question asked.

His tone was uncharacteristically cold, yet calm as he spoke next,

Kija; the most recent descendant of the long line of white dragons before him. At first, Jae-Ha had resented his very existence. To him, someone that held his personal freedom so dearly, he couldn’t come close to understanding how this man could stand proud in the face of the dragons’ prophecy; in the wake of his alleged ‘destined fate.’ Was he simply an unknowing slave to his village, the prophecy haven been indoctrinated from the very start?

No.

He’d learned that even someone like Kija had his reasons for choosing to live the way he did. Rather than solving the puzzle in his mind, however, the hakuryuu’s story opened more questions--- and often times, Jae-Ha found himself staring at the other’s closed back in a daze, picturing the jagged scars that ran up his skin.

Such a time was occurring now, with the green dragon snapping to attention as he was called.

“I’m sorry to call you out so suddenly.” He’d had the sudden urge to ring up an old friend. Although, with the help of Kagami, their cracked gears had slowly been mended and fitted back together; Kuroko felt as if some kind of invisible barrier remained, continuing to drive them apart. Or... maybe it would be better to say that it merely kept them at arm’s length-- some of the intimacy the two once shared had been regained through subtle touches, and through simplicity of their smiles.

However, he was painfully aware that it would be impossible to go back to what they used to be. Kuroko had chosen to move on to a bright future with a team that acted more as his second home, and a partner whose light gave him warmth. But, he thought, that future was ultimately incomplete without those who helped shape him into who he was today. Although he had accomplished one of his goals in bringing Aomine back down to Earth, with the defeat that Touou suffered at Seirin’s hands; there was still a certain gruffness that existed within his ex-light that was difficult to break.

Perhaps it would always be there. Kuroko could read Aomine’s thoughts most of the time, either way. But, as idealistic as he was, if there were any open windows at all, any chances to bring back even the faintest hint of a smile to Aomine’s face, he would grasp at them in an instant. Kuroko wanted to see him relax more often.

He was a very dear friend to him, after all.