'Aomine-kun.'

Daiki had been prepared to hear anything on the other end; perhaps a voice mail, or just continuous ringing, but not this. Not Tetsu actually picking up and talking to him like they hadn't just fallen apart three days ago.

It hurts, a lot more than Daiki cares to admit.

'Tetsu…' Daiki doesn't actually know what to say. He dialled Tetsu without any hopes of getting a decent response, he just really wanted to call and ask if he was okay or if he hated him or if they were ever going to be okay. Or even just to hear his voice, maybe. Anything other than the silence. Anything other than the cold silence.

'What is it that you want?'

Daiki winces at the tone. Maybe the cold silence is better than this cold voice. Something in his throat reminiscent of a jagged-edged rock keeps trying to force its way in. He swallows, hopes he could blurt out some kind of statement that wouldn't come out too bitter or too wounded, but like always in situations that don't involve basketball, he fails himself.

'I… Nothing. Just thought… Just wanted to… no, really, nothing.'

Just wanted to what, really? Daiki has no answer. Or maybe he has but he's afraid to accept whatever the answer is, because maybe he really just wants to hear Tetsu speak to him again, even if it isn't as kind, even if it isn't as warm.

'Daiki.'

or hear Tetsu say his name.

That one word delivers the final blow. Daiki doubles over, clutches his knee, sucks in a deep, almost painful breath, tries to keep his chest from bursting while struggling to hold the phone to his ear, listening to Tetsu's quiet breaths, fighting to control his composure, as if he hadn't just heard Tetsu saying exactly what he needed to hear, as if he hadn't just heard Tetsu call him by his name the way he did during their extended practices or during nights when they'd just walk home and talk or during the pauses between slow kisses that still burn on his lips even after all this time —

'Aomine-kun, please say something.'

But that's just it: he can't say something when there is nothing to say, nothing that he thinks could make everything okay again. 'Tetsu,' he manages to whisper into the receiver, ever so faintly, afraid that the name might just fade from the tip of his tongue and fail to come out.

Tetsu is quiet on the other end of the phone line, and Daiki just keeps listening until Tetsu finally hangs up.