the couple that weren't
title: the couple that weren't
pairing: kurosaki/tsurara
rating: pg-13
summary: he won’t admit it but kurosaki feels as though he’s been abandoned but he’s sort of used to that.
notes: one of those 'nothing changes' fics. slightly ooc because i'm tired of all the angst but it's kurosagi so of course there is some. i'm not happy with some parts but to be blatantly honest, i don't like this enough to change them.

the couple that weren't
2590~

She’ll never say it but she’s at the point of not caring anymore. Clearly, he’s never going to listen to her so Tsurara decides that it would better to turn a blind eye at whatever tricks Kurosaki decides to pull in future. She concludes that not only will it be less stressful for her but she’ll also save an average of ten minutes a day she would have otherwise been using to lecture him on the moral issues of right and wrong. In all honesty, she’s tired of repeating herself over and over and she’s pretty sure that she’s fallen into the habit of alternating speeches between the sanctity of the law and fairness for all involved.

So Tsurara embarks on her brand new non-Kurosaki existing life (she rationalises her decision by reminding herself that at least Kurosaki sticks at one rule: you can’t cheat an honest man). She knows it won’t be a completely non-Kurosaki existing life but she’ll do her best to leave the kurosagi parts out of it.

She exits her apartment one morning and the sun greets her with a shine after a passing cloud. She thinks it’s working out very well for her. She caught an extra forty minutes of sleep not listening with her ear pressed against the wall of Kurosaki’s apartment. The first test however would be actually seeing him. She looks around, it’s usually at this point he exits with some ridiculous outfit. She thinks. What is she doing again? Oh yes, going on with her non-Kurosaki existing life. She promptly leaves for university.

Tsurara is reminded when she gets there that while she has Kurosaki take a leave of absence from her life, that doesn’t mean that he’s not out of Yukari’s. She talks about him again, her trail of though is usually riddled with Tsurara butting in and correcting her for all the unlawfulness. Instead, Tsurara finds herself wondering what the hell she’s doing with such a shallow person day in, day out. Surely there are other students who take a more rational outlook on things. Yukari can’t be the only person she’s friends with.

It’s downright sad.

Tsurara ends up having lunch with Yukari as usual. She eats in silence, only nodding when Yukari takes a breath or turns to her with big eyes looking for some kind of confirmation for whatever obvious thing she just said. Tsurara puts up with it. She’ll work on making new friends tomorrow. Perhaps she should take a leaf out of Yukari’s book and put some effort in her appearance. She can only imagine how boring she is to look at – she’s bored of getting the same things out of her closet anyway.

She decides to buy something new on her way home, something bold and bright. She’ll take this non-Kurosaki existing life and give herself a chance to reinvent who she is. She’s tired of being centred around an almost non-existent person. It’s a small step to make between ‘almost’ and nothing.

She goes around one of those trendy places she’s never really had the courage to go in before. She trails the racks, there’s a new found bounce in her step and she likes the way it makes her fringe move when she catches her reflection in a mirror. As she shops, she can’t help but notice a couple roaming around. They’re about her age, more fashionable than she currently is and Tsurara wonders if attractive people have some kind of homing device to find each other. It’s the only rational reason she can think of for each part of the couple looks good. The girl clearly knows what she wants, heads straight for it and takes it off the rails to dump it on her boyfriend who somewhat reminds Tsurara of that Tanabe-kun Yukari used to date.

Tsurara steals glances at him, it’s clear that the interest she takes in him is reciprocated as his girlfriend promptly tells him to stop his wondering eyes. Tsurara doesn’t think that her heart has fluttered quite so much before. Well, maybe once or twice but the situation was completely different. They were more times of worry and intimidation against a hard surface. When the girl starts giving her evils, Tsurara thinks very wisely that it’s her time to leave.

She heads home, a new coat in hand, and Kurosaki’s cat pads around her legs, craves attention from someone but as Tsurara is still just on her first day of non-Kurosaki existing life, she isn’t going to make any exceptions. Not for the first month anyway. No matter how cute the cat may be.

The first day went by very well, Tsurara thinks, with the exception of Yukari, her non-Kurosaki existing life is pretty much non-Kurosaki existing and she hopes that the same can be said for today. However, it gets off to a bad start when the first face she sees when she opens her front door is Kurosaki. She wonders how long he’s been waiting.

“Good morning,” she says, all politeness and civilities, this is after all, her landlord at the end of the day.

“I had to feed my cat yesterday,” he says and Tsurara’s not sure where he’s taking this.

“Okay?” she waits for his response and thinks that a patience of ten seconds is generous enough grace. She slips on some pumps and closes her door behind her. “I’ll see you later, Kurosaki-san,” she says and there is a sense of internal triumph as not one word out of her mouth was about the law. This seems to be turning out to be a piece of piss.

Kurosaki won’t admit it but he’s starting to think that there’s more to life than retribution. Those daily talks with Tsurara were starting to sink in and it isn’t as though he sees himself doing this forever either, though the thought of normal work is a little daunting. As Kurosaki stands at Tsurara’s doorstep, meowing cat in hand, he feels a bout of disappointment. This isn’t what is meant to happen. The thought strikes that Tsurara’s given up on him.

Well, good.

She was like a dead weight around his neck, dragging him down with visions of a happier life full of all things good. He doesn’t need that. ‘Course not. He’s kurosagi. He is the one who knows both sides of the coin. What happy ending will he have?

He goes on with his preparations, fake credit cards and IDs, a new name for a new day. Same as always. He makes sure everything is to perfection, hair looking reasonable, all recognisable marking on his face covered up, false ones put in their place. He goes to meet his mark, has seen the photographs and memorised every detail he could get his hands on. He almost feels as though he knows this man, knows what makes him tick and it’s like this every time and it makes him sick. Same as always.

He wonders what is to become of him since the only constant in his life has changed. Kurosaki always thought that he could rely on the annoyingly nosy girl next door to keep his in check, remind him of all the honesty he’s trying to save. He may have justified motives for conning people out of immense numbers of money but sometimes, when things start feeling more like a game than a dangerous con, he forgets just what he’s doing this for and enjoys the look of naivety plastered on the faces of those he swindles.

He hates how he’s become corrupt.

Kurosaki knows that he won’t get support for clean-cut living from anyone but Tsurara. That Yukari girl is all for the slick lifestyle, Katsuragi has him under his thumb and Kashima just wants to see him behind bars. There is nothing else like Tsurara in his life. Nothing else, no one like.

It seems that she has left him now. He’s a lost cause, lost in all that is dishonest, a lost cause without a saviour. He pauses. He thinks he puts her too high up upon that pedestal. She could benefit from being knocked down a peg or two. Kurosaki would say that she seems like a new person, one who didn’t know him any better and he thinks this is what things could have been like had they met in different circumstances.

In actuality, Kurosaki likes the attention he gets. He quite likes being the one-of-a-kind modern day Robin Hood but without all the bloodshed and arrows. Even wielding a sword to the throat of his captor, he still couldn’t cross that line. He knows that people are defined by actions and intentions.

While he is lavished over at a host bar by girls with faces caked in make-up, Kurosaki is given time to think as his mark gulps alcohol like a fish. Why is he spending so much time thinking about Tsurara these days? Why does he even bother to give the impression that he’s forgotten her name anymore? His drink is refilled and his hair is ruffled some more by manicured nails but he can feel his consciousness slipping away from his task at hand.

But at least he’s not slurring his words.

“Lizzen, the way to a chick’s heart is a piece of lemon squeeze-y,” Kurosaki turns his head and just by his look of interest the hostesses giggle and twitter. “All ya gotta do is cry a little bit but not so much that it looks gay because… that’s gay.”

Kurosaki thinks that this drunkard may be onto something. A fallen tear for his family and Tsurara left him alone for a decent amount of time. Perhaps he should try it again.

At the end of the evening, Kurosaki’s left with a phone full of new numbers from the girls at the bar and he’s started to plant the idea that somewhere in Tokyo is a plot of land that is littered with gold and he could make the sale. He gets home, wreaks of vodka and choking perfume and as he turns his keys in the door he sees Tsurara exit.

“Oh, good evening,” she says and he can’t tell if it’s her eyes or eye shadow that’s causing the glint of light.

He’s never seen her like this before, all groomed and polished like she actually cares about how she looks. She looks decent. If he thought of any compliment greater than that then he’d have trouble sleeping tonight. Her smile is brief and soon she’s gone.

He gets a call later that night, it’s her, there’s a thumping beat in the background and he struggles to hear what she’s saying. He knows what she’s trying to say, she’s calling him to pick her up, says that she’s sue him if he doesn’t take responsibility of her. She is his tenant at the end of the day.

He can’t believe he’s doing this, going across the district to pick her up, can’t believe that she even went. She’s supposed to be the boring book-worm with clothes that covered all parts of her like a potato sack, instead she’s there with a red dress and heels but instead of being on her feet, they are in her hands and she threatens to use them as a weapon. He drags her away from the boorish crowd to a quiet spot, between a wall and an alleyway.

“Why did you come?” she squints as though the dim streetlights are too bright.

“Because you called.”

She can’t remember, the night’s been a blur really, a fun and eventful blur. She looks up and he looks scary. He has always looked at her with dark eyes, eyes that she can’t read, so lightless and unfeeling. “I tried so hard,” she mumbles low, it hits her in one single bout that her non-Kurosaki existing life was so short lived.

“Your what?”

Had she said it aloud? She’s pretty sure she’s downed enough drinks to not have control of what comes out of her mouth, “Um, um, I uh- yes, well, I. I mean, huh?”

She’s so small and shiny and she tried to remove him from her life. He’s not sure whether to be grateful or insulted. He has missed her, not that he’ll ever say it out loud, ever. He’s got his pride and it’s big enough to stop him from saying many things, big enough to stop him doing many things.

So they walk back in silence, her heels back on her feet and trailing behind him, he takes the lead, walks slow enough to keep the same distance between them as she sways side to side. He wonders what made her kick him out of her life, nothing had changed, he hadn’t done anything any different. He won’t admit it but Kurosaki feels as though he’s been abandoned but he’s sort of used to that.

Tsurara wakes up the next morning and wipes her make-up off. She’s considers herself lucky that she doesn’t have a hangover from hell. Instead she’s got a mild migraine, the kind that’s obtained from listening to music through crackly earphones. She’s still got last night’s clothes on, which – now that she’s taken a chance to look at it in daylight – looks rather sluttish. Perhaps red was the wrong colour to go with.

As typical with drunken nights, Tsurara doesn’t remember much of it, all that remains with her is the scent of stale beef ramen lingering from her kitchen countertop. The cup remains there as a reminder of what she did, what she tried to do and she knows it’s no use.

There’s one item belonging to Kurosaki in her apartment. There’s one in her heart too. The only difference is that she can throw away that plastic cup but she can’t throw away the law so easily, to her they are intertwined like right and wrong, she can’t turn her back now because things have gone on for so long that she doubts she can keep up her reinvented image for longer.

She reverts to the boring Tsurara with the books – clubbing and dancing being more effort than they’re worth – though she finds a couple of numbers on scrap pieces of paper in her bag to show for it. It’s another day for her to lecture Kurosaki on changing his ways, she has somewhat missed it, starting the day off like that gets her ready for any discussions that may come up when she gets to university.

Kurosaki is a mass of immoral values and it would be a lie to say that Tsurara didn’t wish she could change him, of course she wants to, it’s only natural and she thinks a part of Kurosaki wants the same too. Her revenge on him for all his teasing was the withdrawal but revenge isn’t worth it if you get hurt more than your intended. It’s easier to take the jibes that come with collecting mail.

“Weren’t you the perfect student last night?” Kurosaki says and it’s not meant to be passed as conversation, he just wants the topic discussion over and done with as soon as possible.

She tightens her jaw, clutches her bag a little bit harder and puts on the best smile she can because in times like these, showing weakness will only lead to worse.

“Weren’t you the perfect landlord?” she replies and it feels as though the balance has been restored.

Kurosaki reckons he should try that crying thing around about now.