It all started on that Tuesday in summer. Frankly speaking, Aomine could not for the life of him remember the date or the weather on that apparently fateful day and, seeing as that knowledge wouldn't have even the slightest impact on his life, he had no intentions of finding out. Besides, what happened on that day was far more important than a couple of numbers and a measly weather forecast.

The morning itself was nothing out of the ordinary. As per usual, he dragged himself out of bed too late for breakfast but just in time for lunch (what his meal comprised of he also couldn't recall). Sticking to his usual routine during the holidays, he saw no point in rotting away within the dark recesses of his barely-furnished apartment. Grabbing his overworn pair of Air Jordans from the dusty shoe rack and shoving a wad of cash from the kitchen counter into his pockets, he walked out the door.

The streets of Japan were as lively as ever on a typical sunny afternoon, meaning they were practically empty. Aomine sighed to himself as he walked around aimlessly, why people preferred to spend these solar-coated days in the dark when they could be basking in the sun's warmth was beyond him. Maybe that explained why his skin was several shades darker than the average Japanese citizen. It was their loss anyway.

After a few minutes of sidewalk-strolling and pedestrian-crossing, his feet stopped automatically at a 7-11 shop, bringing him to the next task in his daily routine: magazine hunting. Pushing the door inwards, he ignored the incessant ringing noise of the shop's welcoming bells. As he ambled towards the secluded area of the adult section, he spared nothing more than a mere glance at the other strangers in the store, who in turn stared at him unabashedly. You'd think they would be used to seeing someone like him around. Was it the blue hair? Or the towering height?

Long tanned fingers traced along a row of magazines until dark blue eyes caught sight of a scantily clad woman bending forward, displaying a generous amount of breasts to her viewers. His sight traveled downwards to the elaborately written title on the cover page 'Shūpure – Weekly Playboy' before he noticed a shorter, balding man beside him eyeing the exact same material he was. 'Heh, not a chance old man.' Abruptly snatching the last copy off the bookshelf, he ignored the icy glare from the older man and crouched into a squatting position to scout for more magazines on the bottom row when–

"Hands in the air!"

Aomine would have ignored the order if he hadn't heard the distinct sound of a gun being loaded. The click-clack of the mechanism reached his ears, followed by numerous gasps and exclamations, causing him to look up and survey the situation. He grumbled. By the looks of things, he wasn't about to escape from this dilemma anytime soon.

"All of you!"

All the other customers within sight range, including the grumpy old man from before, had their hands risen in an 'I surrender' gesture. Their eyes anxiously flitted about the convenience store, searching for something Aomine couldn't identify. When his gaze met a few of theirs, they immediately diverted their stare to an area (presumably the counter) that was blocked from his view by the magazine bookshelf, before looking at him again. Then a heartening thought dawned on him, if he couldn't see whoever that person was, that meant they definitely couldn't see him either.

"Don't move!"

Raising a hand to his lips he gestured for the others to stop staring at him, in case they gave away his secret position. Much to his chagrin, they continued to watch him nonetheless. He fumed silently. How stupid could these people get? The basketballer violently waved his hands in the air in a desperate attempt to avert their gaze from him. It worked, eventually. Quietly producing a phone from his pocket, he dialed 911 without hesitation and stealthily crawled towards the end of the aisle to get a better idea of the emergency at hand.

The back of the shooter was facing his aisle, which explained why he hadn't been noticed yet (along with the fact that he was squatting behind the shelf). From the voice alone it was obvious that the offender was a man; his relatively well-built form only further proving this fact. He was standing in front of the counter, directing the pistol he was holding toward the cashier on the other end with nothing but a counter and a cash register between them.

"If any of you move, I'll shoot her!"

The cashier herself looked no older than he did. Black wavy locks framing a pair of brown eyes, she wasn't anything exceptional to look at. In fact, if it weren't for the slightly tanned skin (still a couple of shades lighter than his though) she would essentially look like the average Japanese highschool girl. Heck, the only reason why he was half-heartedly committing her face to memory now was because she was almost definitely destined to die sometime within the half hour and she'd have been the first person he'd ever witnessed being murdered before his very eyes.

Much to her credit, she didn't look half as scared as the customers did despite being the one held at gunpoint. She was still visibly frightened of course, who wouldn't be if they were staring down the barrel of a .45 pistol? Aomine could feel the blood pumping through his veins from where he was hiding and the guy didn't even know he was there! But she appeared to have a better head on her shoulders than everyone else, giving the man a relatively leveled gaze. She wasn't even trying to plead for her life! Although to be fair, he couldn't picture himself shriveling at the robber's feet either.

As the man turned around - his gun never leaving the girl - to threaten the other bystanders, the cashier took the time to sweep her surroundings with her eyes. Thankfully the robber's body was turned to face the people on the right side of the convenience store, removing his attention from the left side of the store where Aomine was conveniently situated.

("911. What is your emergency?")

When their gazes met, her eyes widened a fraction. However, his gesture to the cell phone in his hands broke her out of her shock-induced trance. Her eyes unexpectedly took on a foreign glint as she called out in a loud voice, "What do you want from us? We're just a typical 7-11 convenience store!" Aomine resisted the strong urge to face palm; what the hell did she think she was doing?

"Does it look like I care?" The robber's attention was back on her and the other customers immediately began muttering to each other nervously. Irritated by the sudden murmurs, the man raised his pistol to the ceiling and fired, smirking when the deafening sound effectively silenced all the chatter. "What part of a robbery do you not understand?"

Yet the cashier pressed on, undeterred, "Yeah but if anything, the 7-11 in Shibuya makes the least amount of money compared to the others so you're wasting your time here. Why didn't you just rob the jewellery store across the road–"

"If I were you little girl I'd shut up and start taking some money out of that cash register." The barrel of the gun was shoved forcefully onto her forehead in warning, "Unless you want a hole in your pretty face."

She heaved a sigh of defeat, her shoulders sagging in surrender as she was struck by the severity of the situation. Without another word, the girl slowly opened the drawer below the register and took out a bundle of keys that all appeared identical to one another. Aomine sighed inwardly at the sudden change in demeanor; there went that useless tough girl facade. He couldn't see the point in showing some form of bravery when one's life literally depended on it. There was a reason behind the saying that chivalry was dead, after all. Honestly what was she trying to accomplish by–

("A robbery at 7-11, opposite Diamond and Platinum in Shibuya district? We will dispatch officers from the nearest station immediately. In the meantime please refrain from engaging in any sudden behaviour that might...")

Well what do you know? That girl did have a plan after all. Smirking to himself, he ended the call before anyone else in the shop could hear the voice on the other line. He had to admit that he was slightly (just slightly) impressed, not everyone would have been able to think as rationally as she did in a life-threatening situation such as this one. Now all that was left for him to do was wait and keep out of sight. Nothing good would come out of trying to play the hero in this scenario.

"Hurry up!" With shaky hands, she fished out the correct key and inserted it into the hole, twisting the metal at an achingly slow pace. A click signaled the unlocking of the cash drawer. "That's right, now give me the money and I'll be on my way." The girl suddenly paused in her actions and ignoring the man's outcry "What are you waiting for?!" she frantically looked around the store in a final silent plea for help. This time when her eyes met Aomine's, she didn't break her gaze.

Oh Kami, no.

Aomine shook his head and gave her the iciest glare he could muster to make her stop staring at him. "Oi! What are you looking at?" But that didn't work. Her gaze remained fixated on him. He took back whatever compliment he'd mentally given her beforehand. She was just as stupid as the rest, perhaps even more so. Couldn't she see that the robber would notice hi–

"Hey, you!" Oh, shit. "Didn't you hear me the first time?" The man's glare was fully directed towards him now. "Hands where I can see them!"

Aomine cursed his luck, just when he thought it'd be over soon this little bitch drags him even deeper into the mess. Staring the man in the eye, he gradually raised his hands behind his head, painfully aware of the gun in the guy's hand (and somewhat hoping he'd pull the trigger on that cashier).

That was when all hell broke loose.

The conniving woman took advantage of the robber's momentary lapse in attention. Grabbing the end of the gun barrel in her left hand, she forced the weapon away from her body. The sudden action caused the man to whip his head back to the girl in surprise, only to have a fistful of coins greet his face, slamming into his eyes. With a yell he blindly pulled the trigger before stumbling backwards into a shelf of bread, knocking it over with its contents spilling out onto the floor in an unceremonious heap.

The girl, having recovered from the abrupt firing of the gun, immediately began throwing a barrage of grocery items at the man who was, in turn, too preoccupied with fighting the pain in his eyes and dodging the various items to use the gun in his hand. Everyone else in the store saw this confrontation as a window of an opportunity for them to escape, and so they left all their items behind and dashed for the exit.

Aomine had no idea how to proceed from here. On one hand, he felt somewhat obliged to help the girl defend her store and perhaps even her own life. But, judging from the way she was relentlessly hurling anything within reach at the robber who was still recovering from being hit in the eye by coins, he was pretty sure she could handle it. Besides, only moments ago had she jeopardized his safety for her own.

Maybe he should help the robber.

It was only when the police arrived at the scene did the lady cease her onslaught of long range attacks. The man had fallen victim to her physical attacks and was torn between protecting himself from her accurate head-shots and hightailing it out of there, or taking the hit like a man and putting a bullet through the deranged girl. Aomine was still in the store casually watching the show from his sitting position, when the officers arrested the offender. By then the cashier's adrenaline rush had worn off and the searing pain finally registered in her hand, eliciting a string of curses from her lips.

The basketballer looked at the girl in surprise – who knew those dirty words could come from such an innocent-sounding voice? – until he realized the source of her agony. When the robber had randomly fired the gun earlier her hand was still covering the barrel, resulting in a large blood-coated wound in her left hand. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he snatched one of the medical packs for sale off of the shelf and made his way over to her. He might as well do something useful in this situation so he wouldn't feel like a complete ass later on, even if she did indirectly try to get him killed.

Coughing awkwardly to get her attention, he held his hand out. "Let me see."

She peered at him from behind thick lashes and, after analyzing the teen in front of her, frowned disapprovingly. "You're the guy who just sat there and watched the whole thing happen, right?"

Aomine raised a brow in response before grabbing her injured hand none-too-gently, "You're the girl who sold me out to save herself, right?" he mimicked, applying pressure to the wound. Despite the pain, her chocolate eyes crinkled with mirth as she smiled at him, watching him wrap the white dressing around her hand.

"No hard feelings, yeah?"

His tightened the bandage around her hand.

"OII THAT HURT YOU AS–"

Since I'm quite new to this realm, you must bear with me. I don't really know what you lovely fan-girls/boys look for in these fics so I'd appreciate it if you let me know (via review, pm or whatever works for you guys).

That being said, on a scale of 1-10 (10 being absolutely putrid) how horrible was this first chapter?

Stay golden!