Alone in the crowd

Hey guys #2 of Kuroko no Street Artist!
Art by me
Fic by palerosefire on fanfiction.net

Alone In The Crowd



It was much worse to be alone when you were surrounded by people than when you were by yourself. Kuroko had realized that a long time ago, and now, as he spray painted a crowd of happy yellow smiley faced stick figures around all the not-so-happy grey frowny faced stick figures he’d painted to form the letters ALONE, he wished that things were different for him.

School had started last week, and Kuroko had made the mistake of being hopeful. He’d set a goal for himself of making three friends. Somehow, over the break, he’d forgotten that people didn’t like being friends with someone they couldn’t see.

“It’s really creepy the way no one can ever see you, even when you’re standing right in front of them. It’s like you’re a ghost. I don’t want to be friend with someone like that.”

The words of his classmate still rang in Kuroko’s ears. They’d been said loud enough for everyone in the class to hear. And no one had refuted them or stood up for Kuroko.

Not that Kuroko expected anyone to.

He was always alone. And he was never more alone than when he was surrounded by people.

It was stupid, and he hated it, but that’s how it was.

That was why Kuroko had ditched the rest of the school day, leaving in the middle of lunch, and why he was now painting a mural on a subway wall. No one had said anything when he climbed over the partition at the edge of the platform that kept people away from the drop down to the tracks . . . even though he’d been carrying a ladder, stolen from a maintenance closet.

The ladder wobbled scarily every time a train rumbled past, not even a full foot behind the it. Kuroko had it set up as far away from the tracks as he could, but what he was doing now really couldn’t be considered safe.

But he didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone would miss him.

That said, he didn’t intend to die today. Not while he was painting, the one thing that made his life bright. It was the one thing that made people realize he was alive. The bird that he’d painted on the building across from the police station may have been scrubbed off within twenty-four hours, but it had been immortalized on the internet. At school Kuroko might be a friendless outcast, but as The Shadow he was famous in the Tokyo street art circle. That bird had become his signature, and anything that he tagged it on became an instant feature on all the street art sites.

So now, Kuroko signed his new work, painting the bird in the blank space he’d left in the middle of the O formed by the frowny faced stick figures, then carefully climbed down off the ladder, as another train rolled by. He folded the ladder up, then dragged it back to the pedestrian side of the tracks, taking care to avoid the electrified lines. It was a hassle, but Kuroko managed to get it back to the maintenance closet. Then he returned to the scene of his petty crime, to take a good long look at it, from the vantage point that his audience would see it from.

He was pleased with the way it looked. And with the way he’d positioned it. The back wall of the subway, behind the tracks, was really the perfect place for it. Especially since it was at this particularly busy station, where, during rush hour every morning, people were really packed in as tightly as the stick figures Kuroko had painted.

Kuroko saw an older boy who looked like he might be in high school, tap his friend’s shoulder and point at his artwork. His friend said something, and Kuroko was too far away to hear everything that was said, but he definitely heard the words, “The Shadow.” Then, out came their cell phones, but a train rolled into the station, obscuring their shot. They both scowled and lowered their phones, and Kuroko expected them to get on the train and leave. But they surprised him and waited for the train to pass so they could get the pictures they wanted, opting to get on the next train instead.

A slight smile tugged at Kuroko’s mouth as he turned around and headed for home, feeling a little bit less alone.