Important Note: For those of you who came from this story's predecessor, I would like to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you hanging for a year (and more). I admit that I'm not the best author out there, as was proven on that story; and the fact that I have a bad update schedule, messy writing, no character development, and the constant scene alteration that... probably didn't make any sense, I won't blame you if you abandoned it. Given that at that time I first published it, I was in severe depression. I soon learn that writing something at the heat of the moment will do no good. However, I would like to remedy that situation by completely rewriting it into a – hopefully – better story. You guys deserve so much better for showing such an amazing support throughout the time. I hope this story is to your liking. Enjoy.

Warning: Cold!Kuroko... and Kirisaki Daiichi in general. Also Hanamiya/Kuroko (yeah this is like the only pairing I'll put here) in future chapters.

AN: This will still have Kirisaki Daiichi!Kuroko, and all that fluff and friendship (and romance) it has in the original fic I wrote, but this time, I will try to delve deeper into Kuroko's personality and how he interact with Hanamiya and his team. I'm sorry for the rewrite everyone, and being late for 2 days. But here's the new version. I decided to wait so that anyone who might've email notification would know that it's been rewritten.

Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke and all of its character belong to Fujimaki Tadatoshi. The author of this work claim no ownership over the characters and settings associated with Kuroko no Basuke. The material found on through this work is not intended to infringe upon copyright, and the aforementioned titles are the sole legal property of their respective Copyright Holders.

Chapter 1: Broken Ties

Come on, you can do it.

Kuroko fumbled with the hem of his sleeve as he stared at the resignation letter on his hand. Hesitating.

It wasn't the first time that he found himself standing in front of the door to his coach– former coach Shirogane's office, contemplating on whether he would deliver the letter and sealing his fate of never playing a game with his friends or to crumple the paper and trying to endure the heartache he would definitely feel if he stayed.

On one hand, he didn't want to abandon the friends he had made throughout the time he had spent with them. No matter how cold they've been to each other – especially towards him – he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning them when they needed help, even if none of them wanted to admit it. He could see the frustration that was plainly written on their face every time he caught a glimpse of them in the school corridor, not even trying to greet him even if he stands in front of any of them, too consumed in their own thoughts to pay attention to someone as invisible as him.

On the other hand... he didn't want to keep hurting himself with false hope that one day they would realize their own mistake and make-up. Like they used to do every time one of them made a mistake.

But Kuroko knew that it was just a wishful thinking. And he kept denying the fact that they were drifting apart, further away from each other as time passes.

It hurt to think that these people was once someone he knew intimately, people whom he shared his deepest secrets and fears, people whom he had trusted with every fiber of his being.

Now they were hardly teammates, much less friends.

That's what they are now, teammates. Nothing more. He tried to ignore the dull ache on his chest at the thought of his – former – friends.

Kuroko shook his head, not wanting to wallow himself with the thought of his teammates.

With one last glance towards the large mahogany door he knew would lead to his former coach's office, Kuroko turned around and headed towards his next class.

He knew he was postponing the inevitable, but there has to be something he could do to salvage their friendship, right?

Kuroko had lost count on how many times he had seen them arguing, and more often than not, the shouting match would always end up with one of them trying to hit the other with their bare fist. It's not like he could stop them from fighting, given the amount of hostile confrontation that always happened when they decided to grace the school gym with their presence was always assured, it's just that none of them would want to listen to Momoi, much less listen to him. And so, Kuroko learned that their best bet to stopping them from fighting was to let them go at it.

They were getting increasingly loud, and it had garnered enough attention to of the whole court to the point where his coach and several other first stringer to manhandle Aomine away from the fuming Kise.

Kuroko sighed. This was nothing new, coach Shirogane would only chew them out, making them sit as far away from each other for a couple of hours to cool off, before letting them continue practice.

Not that they would stick long enough.

Just a few minutes after Kuroko thought of that, he saw Kise walking towards the gym entrance with his bag slung over his shoulder, intention clear as he scowled openly to anyone who tried to keep him inside.

Their coach insisted on continuing their practice to refine their technique as the practice drags on.

Kuroko watched them play, his attention focused solely on Aomine as he grew increasingly aggressive with each dunks he made, slamming the ball through the net harder than necessary, rattling the board with massive force to the point where he almost rip the basket apart.

Judging by the tense silence the whole gym was in, it was safe to assume that not only the sight of them fighting was normal; they were also wise enough to not mess with a pissed off Aomine. It was only a matter of time before their coach would try to reprimand Aomine with his harsh actions.

"Aomine!"

Kuroko knew this part as well, where their coach would suspend Aomine from practicing for a few days to cool off in a futile effort to keep their ace to come to practice. Not that he ever listened.

Sensing the inevitable, Kuroko decided that it was enough practice for him.

Not that he ever step one foot towards the court anymore, seeing as no one needed his skill now that the five of them could win the games effortlessly.

Still, he kept hoping that one day, one of them would ask him to join them, to return some semblance of normality they always have when they practice. Like they always did.

Kuroko silently hoped and prayed that one day, they would remember the sixth phantom player. They have to, they were friends, right?

It was after another match with another school that Kuroko found himself in front of the familiar mahogany door, clutching the resignation letter in one had as he tried to rethink his decision over and over again. Their school had managed to win the match in landslide, not even giving the opponent any chance to score another goal after one lucky three pointer shoot from them.

They would say it was a lucky shot. But to him, it looked like the Generation of Miracles merely let them have that one shot only. It wasn't beyond them to taunt their opponent nowadays, and Kuroko regretfully mourn over the fact that his friends had changed so much to the point where he could no longer see the same person they used to be, and from the depths of their heart the foreign entity that blossomed with their talent has replaced those innocent teenager he once knew.

Their opponent were completely decimated. Effortlessly. What made it worse was that they treated as a mere game, not the kind where people would respect you for playing fair, but the kind of game where people were afraid to take another step in fear of angering the sleeping lion.

Kuroko watched from the side-line as their coach congratulated Akashi on another well planned game.

He snorted. It was anything but planned. If the man saw the one sided, individual play-style they've been favouring for the last few months and called it a 'well planned' game, Kuroko wondered how he ended up as a coach for a sport where it heavily relies on teamwork.

With the result of the match fresh in his mind, Kuroko took a deep breath and knocked on the door, twice, respectfully.

Kuroko heard the man giving him permission to go in, and with one last lingering thoughts on his decision, opened the door.

As soon as he saw the polite questioning gaze on coach Shirogane's face, Kuroko was hit with a wave of anxiety, and Kuroko struggled to breathe slowly; trying to calm his racing heart as he placed the letter on top of the desk.

This was it, he would no longer see any of them in daily basis.

"I would like to resign, Coach." The moment those dreaded words left his lips, he glanced up to observe his former coach's face.

There was confusion; that much was obvious to the way he eyed Kuroko, but there was also a foreign emotion that seized the elder's face as he stared at the letter to Kuroko, and back towards the letter.

"Kuroko Tetsuya?"

Kuroko gulped, then nodded. "Yes." There was no going back now, no time for second thoughts. He will not regret this.

"I see."

...

It was only later that Kuroko was able to identify that foreign emotion swirling beneath the surface of confusion; Shirogane did not recognize him. Even though he spent the better half of the two years among the rank of Generation of Miracles.

Kuroko didn't know what hurt him more, his own Coach who has no recognition of him, or the fact that none of his friends realized his absence from the daily practice.

It was when the first term ended that Kuroko decided that Teikou was too much for him. There was too much pressure from the school; the way they kept insisting the students has to become number one in anything did not help at all. There was too much to study with so little time, even though he resigned from Basketball Club, he still struggled with maintaining a minimal average score of nineties out of one hundred in all of his essays and exams.

Kuroko was not as gifted as his classmates were, he has no extraordinary memory, no genius-level IQ, and obviously, no private courses to help him survive another term to keep up with Teikou's unbelievable standard. And that was to win, to be number one in everything, to be the best– and yet here he was, pathetically whimpering as the pain on his head increased from the built-up stress.

It was no wonder that he fell sick just a few days later.

Kuroko stared at the familiar ceiling of his bedroom; white and blank, just like his mind. There was no speck of dirt that he could see, nothing to keep his mind off of the stress he was suffering. And the dim light illuminating his room did not help from keeping his mind from the fact that his house was too quiet. Normally, he wouldn't mind the quiet house as he kept himself occupied with studies, but now, with his mind hazy with fever and a dull pounding headache, he couldn't help but feel lonely. Sure, his parents were busy, as they had their own responsibility on trying to keep their business afloat, but there was a treacherous part of his mind that kept whispering to him; trying to wrap their thorny vine on his body as a bubble of resentfulness clouded his judgement.

They were his parents, surely, they didn't forget him too?

Kuroko shook the remnants of the dark thoughts out of his mind, trying – and failing – to focus on anything other than the fact that everyone he knew had left him alone, involuntarily, as if he was a mere phantom. Existing only when they acknowledge him.

It was ironic, in a way, that his talent has manifested so much to the point even his own parents seemed to forget him. At another time, he would be proud, and he would tell Akashi how much his talent had helped him.

Akashi was always the one who encourage him–

Stop that.

Kuroko ignored the whispers in his mind as he focused on the dull pounding in his head, anything to keep the thought away from his acquaintance in school. Nothing good ever come from thinking about them, and Kuroko begrudgingly acknowledge the pain in his chest– as resentment. Another reminder to the misery he was experiencing.

Sighing, he tried to search his phone, patting the space beneath his pillows then beside it as he tried to reach the rectangular device.

When he found it, Kuroko fumbled with the security code that allows him to unlock his phone.

11:43 pm.

With a frustrated groan Kuroko squinted as the brightness from the screen attacked his sensitive eyes. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, trying to look at his notification bar to see if someone – anyone – had texted him.

There was none. Nothing from his parents, no messages from his classmates, and to his disdain, no one from the first string had texted him.

Kuroko wanted to scold himself from holding onto a small sliver of hope that one of them – anyone – would notice his absence from the school. Yet none of them even gave him the time of the day. He had thought that he would get used to it, eventually; being forgotten, that is. But it was harder to accept the harsh truth when he still clung onto the small thread of hope that they cared for him. Like he did for them.

Then again, it might be just a wishful thinking on his part, there was nothing he could go back to in Teikou. He had no one, and everyone he knew was from the basketball team.

If they forgot his existence when he was there, he could only imagine what it would be now that he wasn't there.

Suddenly, in a moment of epiphany, Kuroko was struck with a thought. One that he would never thought of had he had been in the right state of mind.

I could always start over... right?

It wasn't too late to transfer as it was still August. He could still go to another school and spend the rest of the Middle School term to start over, right?

Right?

It wouldn't be too bad, no one there would know him, no one there would treat him like he was just a mere phantom.

He wouldn't be alone, and he wouldn't be lonely.

Sickness momentarily forgotten, Kuroko began making plans of his sudden transferring idea. He knew his parents wouldn't mind, as long as it has the same standard as Teikou, and he would grab at any chance he could to escape the clutches of painful memories he made in Teikou.

Somewhere with the same standard as Teikou, but less stressful.

Opening the web browser from his phone, Kuroko began to do research until he found the first suitable choice that will fit into his criteria.

Welcome to Kirisaki Daiichi, where the elites were nurtured.

Kuroko tapped his screen, giddy with excitement as he revelled on the school board homepage, greedily drinking the available information as he turned over the possibility of attending his choice of school. It seemed like it was the best place to start over, after all.

...

But... what if this was a mistake? What if he made a mistake? He couldn't possibly had given up any hope in Teikou just because he had a fallout with their core member, right? It felt wrong, just abandoning them like that, when they obviously need support and Kuroko began to feel guilty that he didn't mention resigning from the club to any of them. Sure, they're not in the best of terms right now–– hah, that's putting it lightly, they're practically hostile outside of matches! Kuroko snorted with an unrestrained amount of bitterness – but he was still in contact with Momoi, albeit it was a little strained now she had to look after Aomine.

He could've at least told her that he was resigning, but he didn't. Was he afraid that by confining his fears to Momoi she would, in turn, tell them? Maybe, but he doubted they'd care... Not with the way they kept ignoring him, or the might've just not notice him–

Oh, who was he kidding? He's trying to excuse their behaviour! He's in denial, and it was because he cared too much about them even though they did not return the favour.

Somehow, that realization hurt more than the feeling he felt when they abandoned him.

He must've spend a fair amount of time mulling over the new school – and some unpleasant Teikou problems – that Kuroko forgot that he hadn't eaten anything at all, if his rumbling stomach was any indication. Sighing, Kuroko pulled the blanket off of his leg, disentangling it from his bare feet and carelessly tossed it on the other side of his bed. Making no particular move to tidy up the mess it made as soon as it slid down to the floor. He was by no means lazy, he just... didn't want to spend anymore of his depleted energy to worry about the mess in his room.

And so, with a barely audible grunt, Kuroko slowly slid out of his comfortable bed mournfully as he slowly made his way towards the door with careful steps. His legs wobbled after each step, and Kuroko couldn't help but think that this situation was familiar, somewhat. The sore muscles, the dull headache that made it harder to see where he was going, not to mention the amount of sweat he was producing by the mere task of just walking. It had been a while since he felt this weak, the first one had been after his first official acceptance into the first string. He might've overexerted his body because he was too excited to train.

Needless to say, his muscles were so sore he couldn't move any of his limbs.

Speaking of training, he might as well continue with the light exercise to keep his body fit. Who knows, maybe Kirisaki Daiichi have some decent sports related club he could join?

He ignored the treacherous part of his mind that was trying to tell him that he just wanted to replace them out of his mind.

...

Surprisingly, it was quite easy to get permission to transfer from his parents. All Kuroko had to do was truthfully confess that all the pressure from the school was starting to get into him, stressing him out, and because of that, his health was starting to deteriorate. It was a simple, white lie. He knew that mentioning his other reasons to transfer was out of the question, not when he had first hand experience of what their reaction would be; and it was to tell him to man up and take care of his own business.

Kuroko tried to suppress the guilt from surfacing, if they love him, they'd understand.

In just a few days, he had finished filling his forms for both schools, and in less than a week, he would be a student of Kirisaki Daiichi.

There was no turning back now. Whatever he regrets leaving in Teikou, whatever memory he had of that place, was thoroughly shoved to the back of his mind as the thought of settling into a new environment took place to the forefront of his mind; stopping his wayward emotional state to a sudden halt, only to be replaced with bouts of nervousness.

The giddy excitement he felt a week ago had evaporated as he remembered the crucial part of being a new student; trying to fit in. Will they notice him? Will they accept him? That was all he could think of as he waited for his new uniform to arrive. His worry was reasonable, he knew, because after being invisible for a few years, it would take time to get used to getting attention. If they would give him any, that is.

But Kuroko knew he wanted to be something more than a mere phantom who constantly shadows the brightest player in the team, he wanted to obtain the recognition he deserves. As an equal. Maybe then someone will pay him an undivided attention at the duration of the school year. He wasn't sure if this was the path he wanted to lead, but he was sure of one thing:

I don't want to be invisible anymore.

AN: Aaaand, the first rewrite is done. Phew, a whooping 3k from my usual 1.5k xD

(I'm so bad with angst omg why-) uuggghhhh I hate the ending... I want to continue it for a while longer but I just can't–

As you had noticed, I put some background info on why Kuroko turned out the way he was from the original version.

(Kuroko might as well get some neon lights saying "Please notice me!")

What do you think about the new version, guys? Yay or Nay? (I can't believe the first version was so angsty xd)

P.S from the next chapter onwards, all ANs (except disclaimer and warnings) will be at the bottom.

-Jazebeth, December 6, 2017.