"'Please, close the world of today'
But that hole opens up to give me a role to play
'Please, feel ashamed of the me from today'
But that hole opens up a role for an idiot to play"
-Deco*27
The lecture hall was rather plain and drab with dark carpet flooring, decade old wallpaper in need of replacing, and uncleaned windows placed high near the ceiling. A pedestal stood at the far center of the room where all the seats led down to a simple, dusty black board behind it. At a certain time of day, you could see every single speck of dust within the universe drifting lazily through the unoccupied space. It was an amazing sight in its own right.
That didn't stop officials from hosting the competition in the old, unused building out of Touo Academy's many newest additions. One of the more eccentric alumnus standing in as a judge even liked the atmosphere it gave them when they stepped through its doors. It was "like I had stepped through time back to the old days" they had said.
Aomine Daiki would have liked to say otherwise, because it was a shitty place to have multiple people occupying it when he had found it first, but they would have kicked him out of the slam for misconduct and insubordination. Once everything was over and done with, Aomine could go back to peacefully reading his magazines in his special safe spot in the back.
But, hey, he could at least have an opinion, right? The majority always overruled the minority, and Aomine was it. Aomine would have to express his protest in another form, and he would have his way once he was through with them.
"Contestant number 5, please come out onto the stage for your performance," one of the MCs droned monotonously through the microphone. The dark-skinned university student had a fleeting image of his old high school friend speaking in their place.
Aomine adjusted the stick-on number he had placed on his light brown sweater, noting the fuzz it had taken along with it.
He sighed as he lurked to his place on the pedestal with a drag to his feet. It was his favorite sweater, and the darn stickers would ruin the material when he threw it in the wash. The day was starting out in the worst of ways.
"State your name, please," the alumnus judge requested with an amused smile through his mic as Aomine strutted into view. He had apparently seen the reluctant act Aomine had pulled before slapping some common decency into himself.
"Aomine Daiki," he drawled with a scratch behind his head, unintentionally appearing bored.
The guy, technically only a few years his senior, raised his dark eyebrows in surprise behind his glasses. "Ah, you're that Aomine Daiki. I've heard much about you from my underclassmen."
"Is that so?" Aomine's reluctant expression transformed into a smug smirk. "Good stuff or bad?"
"Interchangeable."
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
"Ahem," the stiff-looking judge beside the glasses guy interrupted. "Imayoshi, now is not the time for making conversation with the contestants."
"Of course," Imayoshi replied, courteously. He curtly introduced himself to Aomine. "Imayoshi Shouichi, alumnus judge of this year's Touo Academy Poetry Slam. You may start, Aomine."
Aomine adjusted his sweater and shook out his shoulders to loosen the pre-performance tension. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, allowing his breathing to level to normal. The dark-skinned man closed his eyes from the glare of the narrow light filtering through the windows. No matter what other people said about fearless actors, speaking in front of a crowd was nerve-wracking, even for him. Actors and spokespersons only appeared fearless precisely because of the efficient method of cooling down they did beforehand. They were only human.
After a moment, Aomine was ready. To let the judges wait too long would mean disqualification or low marks.
He opened his eyes to the artificial warmth of the spotlight Kuroko had admired so much.