three steps backward
; ; ;
Aomine cracks his knuckles in anticipation. He swears that he has rested for ten hours prior to this game, and he even details to his teammates how had dreamt of Seirin being behind by a third of their score. Arrogant jerk, yes, but Aomine is never going to admit that he never slept a wink the previous night.
In fact, Aomine cracks his knuckles because of tremors in his hands that he would never, ever talk about with anybody. He spent his evening thinking of all the possibilities that Seirin could defeat him, but the person who resurfaced the most in his vivid imagination was that stupid redhead whom he thinks has self-proclaimed to have been married to hamburgers.
It isn't like their one-on-one's have affected him so deeply for him to hypothesize that Kagami is going to be the one to decide the direction of the game. They're both aces, and it's only natural to think of the other as a rival. In Aomine's case, though, their competition is starting to get unhealthy especially since Kagami always infests his mind.
Stupid hamburger guy. Stupid Kagami.
With a final shaky breath, Aomine heads out of the locker room with the rest of Touo, shoes creaking on slippery floors and eyes remaining devoid of any excitement that bubbles from underneath.
Aomine and Kagami stand face-to-face, growling at each other as if this match determines the rest of their lives. Kagami offers a grim smile and Aomine returns it with a "Heh," both of them knowing that basketball is nothing personal and there would always be a room for a next game. There's something wrong with Kagami, though – the electricity in his eyes seems to slowly fade away, as if he is succumbing to Touo before the match has even begun. He looks too pale, cold, and distant. He doesn't look like his usual self at all.
Kagami would never be like that. Aomine lets his observation slide, because if there's anything he's going to do today, it would be beating the hell out of Seirin. With a slight grimace, Aomine turns away and accidentally stares at Kuroko, whose lips form a thin line. Well, at least someone from Seirin is normal today.
To be honest, Aomine doesn't give a damn about the tip off or anything else that doesn't concern him. His pride pounds in his ears, and there, there – finally, he has gotten a hold of the ball, leaps, and launches.
Score. It's to be expected, really, and the string of events that occur soon after don't really matter anymore just as long as he can uphold the notion of him being the only one who can beat himself.
And that's when Aomine notices – there's just something so off about Kagami's shots today. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly is wrong, but Kagami almost loses his balance every once in a while, grits his teeth whenever he has to jump, and makes an awful lot of passes though Kuroko should be doing that. Aomine can sense that Kagami is trying to evade the ball, but why he wants to remains a mystery.
Irritated at the redhead's incompetence, Aomine dashes from his spot and throws the ball to Imayoshi. He barely sees the captain raise his eyebrows in question, but he doesn't heed because of his annoyance at Kagami. Aomine hears the Seirin members shout over the noise of the audience – in a swift second, Kagami catches Kuroko's pass and smirks at Aomine. If he's trying to provoke the zone, he's not doing a very good job.
Kagami takes one, two, three steps backward, and he raises his arms to shoot. Aomine is tempted to stay rooted on the spot, glaring at Kagami's imperfect form, but Kagami makes that face – he's smiling through a forced comfortable expression, and the sound of the ball hitting the ring never comes. Instead, Aomine gapes as Kagami falls.
His head lands first on the court, and suddenly the referee blows on his whistle. An uproar washes over the crowd and Aomine just stands there, watching as all of the players on court rush to Kagami's unconscious figure. For once, he doesn't know what's come over him to stay fixed on his position, vision trained on an unresponsive Kagami.
Hyuuga mumbles "Shit," as he hoists Kagami up to the bench, and as Riko very nearly sobs while dialing 911, Momoi motions for her team to bring water and towels. Kuroko, on the other hand, runs past Aomine, but the latter has the chance to weakly grab him by the shoulder.
Kuroko turns and remains impassive, and at last, Aomine finds his voice working, albeit shaking. "Tetsu…w-what the hell is wrong with him?"
Silence, then Kuroko replies with a serious tone. "Didn't you know?"
"Didn't I know what?"
All his life, Aomine's been secretly scared of Kuroko. He doesn't have a single clue as to what he would say next, and his answer right now is making his stomach twist with anxiety. Even more so since Kuroko is giving him one of those looks.
Kuroko opens his mouth, "H-", and everything is a blur.
Through his momentary deafness, Aomine catches the words –
"His heart is failing."
; ; ;
I—
I'm sorry.
; ; ;
One step. Two steps. Three steps –
Aomine finds himself in the corridor of the hospital, glaring at the sign plastered on the door that says 'Kagami Taiga'. The Seirin vs. Touo match has been postponed to two weeks later, but the physician, Riko, Hyuuga, and Kuroko – that little jerk – assure that Kagami won't be able to play for a long time, and probably for the rest of his life.
In response to their explanations of Kagami's condition, Aomine raises his middle finger and tsk's, walking away with the thought that Kagami promised to beat him someday.
Aomine grips the knob tightly and forces himself to appear as bastardly as he can be, in hopes that his usual disposition as a basketball player would encourage Kagami to get up and play right this time. Taking a deep breath, Aomine blurts, "Oi, Bakaga—"
It turns out that Kagami has been up all along, reading a book that's too thick for Aomine's liking. The redhead glances up and offers a nod as a greeting. Oddly enough, he turns back to his book and doesn't acknowledge that Aomine is his visitor. Bakagami, Aomine snarls in the back of his mind. The least he can do is appreciate the fact that I even cared to come here.
"Oi," Aomine reiterates, grabbing a chair and threatening to hurl it at Kagami. "What the hell are you even reading, anyway? Tips on how to avoid cardiac arrest?"
Surprisingly, Kagami doesn't show any sign of hurt. He easily responds while keeping his gaze fixed on a page. "No, I'm trying to learn how to kick an asshole out of the room so I can rest peacefully."
"Maybe you should also learn how to not piss off your visitors," Aomine balls his fist, getting ready to mess up the dextrose.
"Maybe a certain visitor should learn that his presence isn't wanted at all," Kagami bites back.
"Maybe –"
Aomine widens his eyes at the sudden realization that Kagami is such an ungrateful dick. He has no idea why his chest feels too heavy, his ribs crushing his lungs as Kagami's words sink in. Not wanting to cause an unplanned murder, Aomine turns around and swears under his breath as he reaches the door.
"Kagamichiiiiiiiiiiii!"
Out of nowhere, Kise pushes Aomine away and runs to Kagami's bedside. Following him are Midorima, Murasakibara, Akashi, and Kuroko, each holding a different bag of non-hospital food, although they are all fully aware that their cooking skills aren't comparable to Kagami's. Kise nearly chokes Kagami with his inhuman hug. "Kagamichii, we were so worried about you! I'm glad that you look like you're well today!"
By mistake, Aomine looks at Kuroko again, who stares in return. Kuroko mumbles, "Oh, Kagami-kun, Aomine-kun forgot about his stuff outside. He was going to give you these." Kuroko hands Kagami a bouquet of red roses wrapped in fancy paper. "He said that the color wasn't nearly as cool as your hair's, but these were the only flowers he could find."
"Tetsu, what –"
Kagami almost rejects the bouquet. Instead, he bursts into that laughter of his. Aomine can't do anything but ignore the heat spreading on his cheeks.
"Thanks," Kagami says after his moment of sneering. "I never knew you had a thing for flowers, Ahomine." Kuroko steps back, giving room for the other Miracles. On the other hand, Aomine stays stationary in the corner, watching as Midorima bestows Kagami his lucky item for the day and Akashi comments on Kagami's awful haircut, volunteering to improve it for him. As defiant as Kagami may appear, he's actually very appreciative. Probably a change of heart before it stops working.
The thought eats away at Aomine's mind, and he can't help but wince at the physical pain throbbing in his head.
He realizes that he was the only one who didn't know about Kagami's condition. At first, he feels betrayed — angry, even, that nobody dared to tell him that the foe he's been searching for will be gone soon. It's not as if it affects him that much. All Kagami's been doing to him is pissing him off and reminding him that nobody will ever come close to his prowess in basketball.
Aomine stays in the corner, teeth grinding in resentment. At least he's certain that Touo will gain another victory.
; ; ;
As usual, Kuroko prompts Aomine to bring little somethings to Kagami every now and then. He reasons that since he doesn't involve himself in practice anyway, he might as well do something productive. Something as productive as visiting a dead man, is left unspoken, and although people label Aomine as a blockhead, he's aware that he can figure implications out sometimes. Mostly when they concern Kagami, but anyway —
Today, he dumps a load of peonies on Kagami's bedside table, noting how the redhead neglects his arrival by continuously flipping through the channels on TV. That's one of the things about hospitals that suck: the shows on the wing to which Kagami belongs to are either for kids who were born with failures in their genes or for wilting senior citizens who recount the good old days by watching black and white sitcoms.
Unsure of what to say, Aomine clears his throat louder than what he is used to. Kagami stares at him, his usually energetic eyes devoid of any emotion including hate, and shifts his view to the peonies. "Good choice," Kagami starts, his mocking tone still intact. "Though they won't really work."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Aomine snaps, grabbing a chair from behind him and snatching the remote, earning a hiss from Kagami.
Kagami snorts after calming down. "Peonies mean healing. I'm pretty sure you didn't come here on your own accord."
Accord? Sickness really does wonders to a person's speech. "Tch, Tetsu gave them to me. Said that I had to look after a dumbass who insisted on playing even if he couldn't handle what was going on with himself."
Kagami's growl resonates in his throat, and he opens his mouth for a snarky retort but decides against it in the last minute. "Of all people," Kagami mutters, looking away to his window to evade Aomine.
Aomine raises his eyebrow and abruptly stands up. "Might as well get out of here." He fumes, reaching for the doorknob.
He finds it difficult to take some forward steps, and when he hears the door slam behind him, he thinks he's safe from turning back.
; ; ;
The main road is a familiar route to the hospital by now. Aomine doesn't know why he's even coming to the room that reeks of what-if's and a life that would've been, had it not been for a disease that came out of nowhere. He brings small gerberae this time, along with a mouth that is of great use when it comes to provoking Kagami.
"What?" Aomine asks pointedly as he drops the vibrant flowers into the empty vase. "They were cheap, and it sucks to come empty-handed."
Kagami keeps quiet. If anything, he hates being pitied, and he's kind of glad that Aomine doesn't bring up anything regarding his condition. At some point, he adjusts his position and removes his back from the elevated mattress to prevent sores. "Cheerfulness," he says, still looking far ahead. "You bring them if you want to brighten someone's day."
"I didn't buy them for that," Aomine sneers. He has to admit that Kagami's extensive knowledge on flower meanings is a bit too creepy for a well-built male like him. "How did you know all of that?"
"It's not like I can do a lot of stuff while I'm here," Kagami chortles, flexing his fingers that used to hold basketballs like they were meant to be for him. "Sleeping and eating just bore the hell out of me. I somehow miss training and dropping to the floor in exhaustion."
Aomine doesn't comment. Making Kagami angry takes a lot of effort, and he doesn't want to waste Kagami's breaths on irritation. Besides, it's not like he has long enough to bicker with Aomine for the rest of his life. "How's the food here? Does it taste like shit?"
To his surprise, Kagami slightly swivels his head. "Nah, it's pretty decent. All of it tastes the same, but at least it doesn't make me puke my guts out."
Silence settles over them. It would've been good if it isn't awkward at all. Aomine swallows. "Have you watched NBA lately?"
At Kagami's bewildered expression, Aomine can feel himself clawing at his insides for fucking up a conversation. He can talk when he's furious or pumped up for a game, but he sure as hell can't say something right when he's with somebody who has a terminal illness. He never really dubbed Kagami as someone who'll die at a young age, but fate is something that he's encountered a few times to recognize that it messes up badly.
Kagami's knuckles whiten as he grips the sheets, but the tension subsides when he murmurs. "You don't have to feel sorry, you know."
If there's one thing Aomine absolutely despises, it's that people sometimes acknowledge emotions that aren't really there. "Whoever said I felt sorry for a guy who goes at burgers like they're crumbs? So, how does it feel like — just, uh, having that cardiac thing —"
Kagami cuts him off, saving him from further embarrassment. "It's weird. Makes you think for a while and lie awake at night, wondering if all you've ever done was enough."
"'Course it's enough," Aomine mutters. "Maybe. You brought your team to this level."
"Dumbass," Kagami says. "I wasn't talking about basketball. I'm talking about the wider scale, because when you die, you kind of think it's the perfect time to obsess over philosophical crap."
There, Kagami says the d-word, the one that Aomine's been attempting to avoid for a while. Honestly, it makes him breathe in relief when he realizes that Kagami isn't easily offended by the thought of kicking the bucket soon. Kagami has never been that sensitive. "Whatever. Do you see the light like the urban legends say?"
To that, Kagami guffaws — he actually laughs out loud, clutching his stomach at the hilarity. "You actually believe in those?"
Aomine restrains himself from knocking him out. "Doesn't hurt to ask, does it?"
"Nah, man," Kagami replies, eyes still crinkling from Aomine's idiocy. "It's just...when you're at the end, you just want to look back. Wonder if everything and everyone's going to be okay when you're gone. And think of all the things you've wanted to do, even if you never actually did them." Aomine rolls his eyes and Kagami gestures to direct his fist at him. "Sappy, I know. But it's just from experience."
"Geez," Aomine says. "You do know I'll still be challenging your sorry ass even at the grave, don't you?"
"Yeah," Kagami mutters, smiling at him — not the cheeky, arrogant, or impish grin, but an actual grin that bares his teeth and lets the corners of his mouth form a crescent shape. For someone who's not a three-year old, it still looks fitting and sincere. Aomine finds himself catching his breath and unconsciously imagining if it will ever be the same when Kagami dies.
Not if, but when.
; ; ;
"Don't say a word," Aomine threatens, gently holding a bunch of forget-me-nots and hyacinths over the glass vase while removing the wilted flowers. He sees in the corners of his eyes that Kagami is chuckling at him.
Kagami doesn't heed his words and taunts, "Sincerity, and always remember me. If you weren't my former opponent, I would've thought that you're smitten with my ass."
Aomine grunts, threatening to smack Kagami with his arm. It takes an odd turn, because they haven't dealt with homophobic slurs before. "If you weren't on that bed, you might as well be the owner of a flower shop. I would've hired you as one of my wedding planners."
"Psh, I can't plan your wedding if you're getting married to me," Kagami says, challenging him to come up with a better retort. Unfortunately, Aomine stutters on his own words, choking on his own spit. He feels unbearably warm and if Kagami keeps this up, he'll be forced to punch him in the face. Kagami notices his discomfort and looks away without muttering an apology.
Finally, Aomine musters the courage to speak up. He doesn't know that a red tint adorns his cheeks, and he ends up saying the wrong things. Again. "I can't marry you if you're dying, idiot."
His ribcage oddly feels like it's been wracked up by a hurricane, and he exhales shakily when Kagami only responds with a playful grin.
Forced?
"You're right," Kagami says, eyes so bright yet dull at the same time. How he manages to do that, Aomine doesn't have the faintest idea. "You can't marry someone who's dying."
"Just shut up, Bakagami," Aomine tiredly murmurs.
"Getting sentimental, huh?" Kagami laughs, reaching for the flowers. In spite of his build, his touch is gentle when he traces the petals with his fingertips. Aomine has to follow his movements until his eyesight trails up to Kagami's arm, and eventually his crimson irises.
Aomine opens his mouth to argue that no, as if he would be sentimental, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Kagami makes up for it by pointing to the clock on the wall farthest from where they are. "Oi, you're gonna be late."
"I always skip, anyway," Aomine shrugs. It's so damn awkward. What is he supposed to say while Kagami is still there to hear it?
"Come on," Kagami persists. "Just go today, Daiki."
Daiki.
It knocks the wind out of Aomine — this is the first time that Kagami has called him by his given name, and somehow he's mad because shit, there's no turning back now. He's always despised those moments in Momoi's movie collections when a simple utterance of names makes time stop and everything else not matter. Cliches are cliches; that's not enough reason for him to not be able to say anything and just listen to the blood surging through his veins.
Maybe it's just the guilt screwing with Aomine, but fortunately he's not dumb enough not to realize that Kuroko has never persuaded him to visit this hospital room. He's stopped purchasing the obscene magazines that he used to pore over. Due to that, he has some saved bills in his pocket, the amount enough to stop by the nearby flower shop and buy a bouquet or so. The vendor knows him well and tells him, "You're a lucky lad."
Maybe it's true. It just seems like it's not.
Kagami waves his hand in front of Aomine's face. "I didn't know that the thought of going to school made you lapse into existential crisis."
For some reason, Aomine gets annoyed again. He's clearly musing over something, and it's just not fair how Kagami can be able to make him think like this. He launches his fist and halts when it comes close to Kagami's cheek. Kagami visibly flinches and nervously chuckles.
Aomine has other plans, however.
He has to explain that it's not his own doing when his fingers decide to sift through Kagami's thinning mane, his red locks still soft and warm. When he rests his forehead on Kagami's, a stutter rises in his throat but he forces it down. Kagami needs to hear this. Aomine would be screwed if he can't even look him in the eye.
"See you later, then, Taiga."
It sounds like a fucking smooth move, which it is in Aomine's mind. Whatever Kagami has to say about that is neglected when Aomine makes a beeline for the door and slams it behind him. He runs through the corridors and narrowly avoids colliding with patients in wheelchairs and medical staff. His lungs are on fire. He's had endurance training for as long as he can remember, but the sharp pain tearing through his chest comes from something else.
It is only when he gets to class fifteen minutes after it's started that he looks out the window and lets the truth sink in.
He doesn't say, Shit.
What Aomine does think of when he folds his arms across his desk and buries his face in the space is, I can't.
; ; ;
He avoids visiting Kagami altogether. Under the orange haze of the afternoon sky, Aomine peeks in his grocery bag and at the cover of his recently bought magazines. He shakes his head when the curves and milky skin come into view, and he's willing himself to think that this is what he wants — not the face-eating grin of an incredibly helpless redhead whose heart has failed him. Sometimes he tries to pass off as legal when he steps into the liquor store, but it doesn't always work. Aomine does walk by the flower shop on his way home, and he looks away to ignore the disappointment on the vendor's features.
Last time Aomine checked, people weren't supposed to turn crooked for their opponents in basketball. He isn't like most people, then. It's just the desperation making him feel like he's gay for Kagami Taiga. He's not worth getting ridiculed and kicked out of the team for. Aomine wouldn't say that he's homophobic as fuck, but he's not as accepting to unconventional sexual orientations, either.
Besides, it's Kagami. Aomine will just have to hide this for a little longer, and when Kagami's finally gone, he won't have to worry about coming out to anybody else.
It's a good plan for starters. Nevertheless, it's one that he's not sure he could follow.
Aomine skips practice and hangs out on the rooftop, not bothering to shield his eyes from the piercing glare of the sunlight. He drops his bag of teriyaki burgers on the floor and flips his magazines open. Somehow, the images have gotten boring; there's Mai-chan with her impeccable skin and sultry smile and everything that ought to remind Aomine that he was interested in girls, and he sure as hell won't think about it twice. When he drifts into his thoughts for a while, all he can see is Kagami on his bed, reading off the language of flowers from an old book he probably got from a garage sale.
He can picture Kagami saying, Aster for contentment. Yellow zenias for remembrance. Chrysanthemums for death. Lilies for eternal life.
Sweetpeas for goodbye.
And the vision goes like this:
What about roses? he'll ask, flicking Kagami's forehead as if they were still the two guys who faced each other on the court head-on. They won't be like that anytime soon.
Kagami will answer, Idiot. Why do you think they sell roses on Valentine's Day?
Aomine's imagination makes him laugh, resulting to meat chunks spewing from his mouth. He wipes them off and crumples the wrapper. The magazine is forgotten lying beside his shoes.
He has to stifle a curse when his phone blares with the chorus of a rock song whose title he really couldn't remember. As expected, it's Momoi calling him at noon, probably planning to berate him about his absence. Aomine wishes that she would just stop caring. He wins all of his matches without practicing, anyway.
"Satsuki, what is it now?" he languidly mutters, turning the conversation on loudspeaker so he could multitask and finish his magazine.
"Dai-chan," Momoi says on the other end of the line. She hiccups and it's only a matter of seconds before her voice breaks. Aomine has to wrinkle his nose. "Dai-chan — I...Kagami-kun, he —"
"Spit it out," Aomine says. He attempts to keep his tone in check, but Momoi's sobs could only mean one thing. He suddenly feels the weight of not being able to see Kagami in about a week dumped on his shoulders. There's something bitter on his tongue and he hopes that Momoi won't notice his shuffling noises when he gets up and dashes through the fire exit, heading down the building in no time. Momoi remains silent. Aomine wants to yell at her.
Aomine growls this time when he doesn't find a cab. He could probably be there sooner if he sprinted across the street and to the main road that led to the hospital. "Satsuki," he repeats, breaths becoming ragged as he runs.
He doesn't disconnect the call.
"Dai-chan," Momoi says, a bit gentler than her first urgent statement. "Kagami-kun slipped into a coma."
Aomine's sneakers screech violently against the pavement, and he finds that he couldn't breathe.
; ; ;
It spirals downhill from there: the past Miracles have to restrain Aomine from screaming at the doctors to do everything they can and from pounding on the door that separated him from Kagami. Anything, anyone that he can blame other than himself — Aomine has to lash out, even at Momoi who hadn't called him sooner. Kuroko has to ask to speak with Aomine privately. As of now, he's the only one who can pacify Aomine.
"Why did you stop visiting him, Aomine-kun?"
Aomine is very, very afraid of Kuroko's stare. He covers it up with a snarl. "Why does it matter?"
"The flowers on his bedside table have wilted," Kuroko says as a matter-of-fact.
"You give a shit about that," Aomine narrows his eyes.
Kuroko nods. "Of course. That only means you haven't gone for a week or so. To Kagami-kun, it feels more than that."
Aomine's knuckles turn white. "What do I have to do with anything? Visiting him doesn't improve his chances of staying alive. He's dead. He's barely hanging on."
It kills him to say all of those things, even though they're the truth.
"Then why did you have to stage a commotion?" Kuroko questions him, his steely gaze unnerving his old teammate. He knows all the right questions to ask. Aomine doesn't have the answers for him. He then keeps his lips pursed and his teeth clenched.
Kuroko keeps his eyes on him while Aomine averts his gaze.
"You haven't changed, Aomine-kun."
Aomine wants to say, I don't care about your bullshit, Tetsu.
"When you lie," Kuroko murmurs, turning on his heel and leaving him at the end of the hallway. Kuroko's footsteps are light, like he isn't there at all. "You always look away."
; ; ;
They eventually let him into the room. There are tubes and masks and machines surrounding Kagami, and he's as lifeless as all of them are. The only sounds in the room reverberate from the monitor. The waves are small, with long intervals. At least they're still there.
Aomine places azaleas on the table to his left, takes a seat, and watches the clock tick and Kagami breathe.
Azaleas.
Kagami would have frowned at him. Take care of yourself, for me.
What Aomine really has to say comes tumbling out of his mouth after he's decided that it's painful to sit in the silence. "Oi, wake up."
He doesn't know what he's expecting.
Maybe talking would soothe the constriction in his throat.
"You're a bastard, Bakagami. Playing against us even when you knew you can't handle it...that was a pretty stupid stunt."
"And lying here," Aomine edges closer to the bed, "is a dumb and lame thing to do."
"I know you're there. You can hear me. You're also close to that side."
"But just listen to me, yeah?"
He thinks about ranting how basketball is as uneventful as usual and decides to drop it immediately because he's a dick for bringing it up in the first place. Aomine tries again, asking about his Jordans, and then he just fucks it up because he remembers he's not supposed to say anything about basketball. Talking about flower language doesn't help, either. He's convinced that Kagami has it memorized from cover to cover.
Well, what else is there to say?
"I guess I'm sorry," Aomine says, rubbing his temples due to a beginning headache. "Ah, fuck this. What I'm trying to say is that you should've called me."
"'S not my fault that it's awkward. I'm not a fucking therapist — I don't know how to handle cases like you, okay?"
"You've got Kuroko. And Seirin. Hell, even that Nigou probably visits you."
"Fun fucking fact: I've spent about 200 bucks on your flowers."
"And you're probably gonna retaliate. Maybe you'll say that I should've ordered takeout or something."
"Another fucking dumb thing to do. Did you know that burger fat clogs up your arteries? I got that part right on the test."
Oh. Right. He isn't supposed to lecture him on his illness.
Back up.
A strained cough. "Anyway...about that looking back you mentioned before."
"I've thought about it. It's not as if I'm dyi—" a pause, then a hiss, "—that's that. Everyone's going to be okay after you're gone, huh?"
"That's the most fucking brilliant thing I've ever heard. Could you even hear yourself saying that? It's wrong. You're wrong."
"And 'think of all the things you wanted to do'. What did you want to do, Taiga?"
Just when he's got the hang of it, Aomine swallows. The name on his lips tastes like ashes.
"You want to ask me the same question? I wanted to do a lot of things. A lot."
"Probably beat you. Not in a practice match. Would've been great if I wiped that determined look off of your face."
"And beat you to knowing the meaning of the goddamn flowers."
"Maybe watch you put a flower shop up. That'd be so fucking hilarious, except you're always so serious about things that I don't know if you're really into them."
"I'd tell you," Aomine's pitch rises, "all these things. Every day. I'd come with the flowers and you can tell me what they meant, because I'd have no clue and I wouldn't really give a shit but it'd be nice to hear you speak like you were reading out of a book."
"I'd kiss you— no, sometimes you talk too much, and you can't shut up."
"You know what? It's so fucking unfair how I get to say all of this and you're just there. This is like one of Satsuki's favorite movies — don't even ask me why I watched it. You know those breakup scenes? Yeah, one of them gets to spit out, 'say something'."
Talking to Kagami feels so natural. Aomine wishes that he can be like this when Kagami's actually awake.
"I'd be doing that, too. But we're not dating. And we're not breaking up. And I don't think you could call me your friend, because all I do is barge into your room and give you two hundred bucks worth of flowers and end up screwing up what I'm supposed to say."
Aomine stands up from his chair, fists balled at his sides, lips quivering, and eyes nearly giving way to the tears he's never shed before — but not just yet.
"Taiga," he rasps, too damn tired to pretend that all the days of seeing Kagami were due to other reasons besides his own will. Aomine bends over to rest his head in the dip of Kagami's neck. He can hear his labored breaths along with a weak pulse. "Taiga," he murmurs again. "Just fucking wake up already."
; ; ;
He falls asleep, fingers threaded through Kagami's.
It's actually nice even with his neck straining from the position and his head having to find a more comfortable angle every now and then.
I...I'm —
Aomine blinks and only sees the lips moving under the oxygen mask.
I'm.
I-
He fails to read the rest of the words because he's tumbling out of his seat and into the corridor, screaming for nurses and anyone out there who could make the monitor stop beeping flatly like that. It's ringing in his ears and he can't believe that he might've been a second too late to call for help and it's just the image of doctors flocking into the room and him being shoved to the side that has his own heart pounding against his ribcage —
The door opens to him again, and Aomine knows that there are no good news.
He drops to his knees when all he can see is the white sheet on the bed.
What had Kagami mouthed again?
Oh.
I'm.
I.
I'm
sorry.
; ; ;
On instinct, Aomine would bite back, you should be.
When he's thought about it further, he'll say, Sorry for what?
[Sorry because I can't play again.
Sorry I haven't told you.
Hadn't told you I was sick.
Sorry for making you waste two hundred bucks on me with the flowers whose meanings I've memorized.
(But not really—)
Sorry I can't stay up for much longer.
Haven't even returned your Jordans, have I?
Those get-well soon flowers didn't work either.
Sorry I can't marry you.
You can't marry someone who's dying, anyway.
I'm sorry.
I haven't said goodbye.
You know,
there was something else I wanted to say.
But I guess it's too late for that now.]
Aomine will have the impulse to ask him what exactly it is, so he won't go around making up conversations in his head because they've never happened, and will never happen. Kagami's always been the type who would go down in a fight if it meant having the last word. But maybe Kagami isn't sorry for all of those things, and it's just Aomine thinking of all the possibilities. Maybe it just happened that an apology was the closest thing to a peace offering between them. Or maybe it was the first thing to cross Kagami's mind.
Or maybe it was just this:
[I'm sorry,
Daiki.]
This time, for Aomine, isn't the right time to kiss Kagami and make him shut the hell up. He'll listen. He'd fucking listen.
But it doesn't matter now, because long after the doctors have written down the time of death and his friends arrived with condolences and the world keeps going like it always has, Aomine is on his knees wondering if the split second it took him to take three backwards steps and find someone who might be able to save Kagami wasn't enough.
Some things haven't changed: Kagami is still on his mind, and there are tremors plaguing his hands.
; ; ;
There's no funeral. For the people Kagami knew, there is only an infinity between trying to cope and being okay. Sometimes, there'd be fistbumps unreturned, and some days there would be passing and screaming and cheering for an ace who's not there. It's hard for Seirin, and it's definitely harder for Aomine when he gets to play them again at the InterHigh. A first-year greets him, and really, there isn't any reason for him to believe that this new Seirin would be better than last year's.
He steps out of the court and tells Momoi, "I quit."
Momoi doesn't respond this time. She doesn't protest or chase him all the way to the streets, because she's known all this time that this would be the case. Even if it's disheartening to watch Aomine turn his back on her and discard his Touo jacket by the bench, Momoi is somehow happy that Aomine can finally put into words what he's been meaning to say a year ago.
But still. That doesn't make it easier for all of them.
; ; ;
Aomine doesn't run. He walks, taking his time like he should, but there are other fucking passersby who can't seem to wait until they reach their destinations. The rain begins to trickle from the sky and he lets it soak everything that he has. It's pretty damn gross, though, the way strangers squeeze through drenched crowds just to be home in time for dinner or arrive in the airport thirty minutes before departure or get out of the city as soon as they can because the number of people can be quite suffocating and some of them are only reminded that they're alone in the littered sidewalks.
For the first time, Aomine tries to practice his buzzer beater skills. It's downright weird and absolutely crazy for an idea, but it's been so long since he last felt this thrill. He pockets his shaking hands and waits until the light turns red. Other people make their way to the other side of the road. Some even collide against his shoulders and forget to apologize. Back then, he would've made a racket and beat whomever it was to the ground. One year is a long time for a person to change.
He counts as he takes himself forward.
One step.
Two steps.
The light goes green, and he can hear the accelerators being shoved down.
Three steps.
Perfect.
The last thing he sees is Kagami meeting him in the middle of the road, not minding the honks and the damn drivers who could go to hell if they wanted to. He forgets about everything — basketball, the fear of being judged for wanting to see Kagami again, and the fact that he's still guilty for not being honest when he had the chance.
Kagami's smiling and holding out the bunch of red roses that have long since wilted in the abandoned hospital room.
What about roses? Aomine would ask, reaching for Kagami's fingertips.
He listens to the answer and laughs, after a very, very long time of not being able to freely use his vocal chords without breaking them.