This soulmate AU is based on a tumblr post (which be found on my tumblr) that suggests an AU where everything is in black and white until you meet your soulmate.
Happy AoKise day, guys!
Ryouta is not looking for his soulmate when it happens.
Well, not explicitly, anyway – they say everyone is, on some level, looking for the person who will bring colours into their world. Ryouta isn't foolish enough to believe that he's an exception to this, but he was a fourteen year old athletic model bored out of his mind, and he was lamenting the tragedy of his abundant talent that was the reason for the multitude of trophies representing a number of different sports in his bedroom, when it happened for him.
He'd just been innocently walking by the gymnasium when he got brained by a basketball through no fault of his own.
The first colour Ryouta sees is blue.
He almost doesn't notice it at first – he's looking at the boy who'd come after the ball, looking in his eyes, and as the boy turns away he realises, and chases after him.
(One day, Daiki will tell him the first colour he saw was yellow; but, he will add, a cheeky grin on his face, he wishes it had been the orange of a basketball. He says it because he knows that it will make Ryouta shriek in outrage, even though Ryouta knows that it's an enormous lie.)
Colour seems to bleed its way into the world originating from the boy, who'd known his name, but whose name he didn't know – Ryouta watches him and lets his world begin to take its true form, colour spreading into the expanse of grey and white and black. His soulmate had lovely bronzed skin and dark blue hair to match with his gorgeous blue eyes, and there is an honest, open love for the game he's playing written all over his face; and that's the other thing.
Ryouta's heart leaps into his throat, watching him play and wondering – could I do that?
He's not sure, and that excites him almost as much as the fact that he can now clearly see all the colours of the world that have been denied to him up until this point.
The boy looks over at him, standing in the door and staring, and starts. He's realised now, too. He looks down at the orange basketball, and then flicks his gaze back to Ryouta, almost incredulous.
The blue-haired boy walks over slowly, waving off the questions of the boys who he was playing with, and frowns.
"Do you play basketball?"
"I will," Ryouta answers.
The boy's name is Aomine Daiki. Ryouta likes the way it feels on his tongue as he speaks it.
Neither of them talks about it that afternoon, although Daiki shoves him at the basketball team's manager – a pink-haired girl that Daiki calls Satsuki – and tells her he's signing up. The places Daiki's hands touch on his back tingle for hours afterward, and distract him all through his afternoon classes.
Ryouta tells his sisters after dinner that day. He whispers it quietly in the sanctity of one of their bedrooms. It's uncommon to find your soulmate so early, but it's not unheard of. Neither of his sisters has found theirs yet.
Ryouta marvels in the pretty golden colour of their hair, a perfect match for his own (okay, so he'd checked himself out in the mirror first thing when he'd gotten home, it's not vanity, he was just curious), and wonders why it is the world denies this beauty to those who aren't fortunate enough to meet their special person.
"He's a basketball prodigy," Ryouta tells them. They've moved on from Ryouta's worry about telling their parents, which was Ryouta's first concern. While it's rare to hear of parents objecting to a soulmate on the basis of gender or social standing, Ryouta worried because he knew what it was his parents were expecting of him; a continuation of the family name as the only boy in the family. His sisters had been quick to reassure him that their parents would have no such objections. They loved Ryouta and their daughters very much, and while Ryouta's soulmate being male was unexpected, they would only find joy in him finding his partner. Now they were excitedly begging for details.
"It's just as well you're so talented at sports, then, Ryouta," his oldest sister comments, smiling.
"Yeah," Ryouta answers, and smiles. He can't help but feel that he was blessed with this talent for the simple reason that he would need to have it to catch up to his soulmate in his beloved sport.
Ryouta doesn't share any classes with Daiki, he discovers at school the next day. It's disappointing. He'd have liked to have spent the time he usually spends spacing out getting to know him. Instead, he has to wait until lunch time. He spends the day paying more attention to all the new colours his world is illustrated in than his classes, and lunch time ends up sneaking up on him.
Daiki finds him, though. He's at the door to Ryouta's classroom as he leaves to attempt to find Daiki.
"I just asked a girl," Daiki explains when Ryouta asks how he found his classroom, his face flushing a little red. "You're a bit famous, you know."
Ryouta laughs. "I know," he answers. "You're not playing basketball today?"
Daiki shakes his head. "I'll play at practice. I won't get to spend time with you there anyway; you'll be third-string."
Ryouta smirks and tilts his head. "Second, with my build and what I've been able to pick up so far," he predicts. "But I won't stay there for very long. I have a knack for sports."
Daiki looks like he doesn't believe him. Clearly, while he's heard of Ryouta as a model, the rumours regarding his athletic prowess haven't reached him, so it's not exactly surprising that Daiki's dubious of his claims.
Never mind. He'll understand soon enough.
Daiki takes them to the roof, which is remarkably secluded, and they sit with their backs to the fencing. Daiki looks at the sky, and Ryouta follows his gaze. It's still so strange to see everything in colour, and he understands why Daiki is captivated by the colour of the sky.
"I didn't think you'd be a boy," Daiki says suddenly.
"I didn't think you'd be a boy either," Ryouta parrots back. "But part of me feels like I should have known." He slides his gaze across to Daiki, and he grins. "You'll know what I mean when I reach first string."
Daiki doesn't seem to be able to contain an answering smile. "Don't get full of yourself, pretty boy."
Ryouta wants so bad to touch him (and surely it's the same for Daiki) – so he does, reaching his fingers out tentatively to brush against the warm, brown skin of Daiki's knuckles. Daiki grabs Ryouta's hand – Ryouta notices that the undersides of his fingers and palms are rough and callused from all the time he must have spent playing basketball – and turns it over running his fingers over his palms. Ryouta has soft hands with no calluses. The last sport he'd played was soccer, which didn't require him to use his hands at all.
Ryouta lets him explore his hand, and lets himself enjoy the tingles of Daiki's touch, admiring the contrast between Daiki's pretty dark skin and his own paler colour. When Daiki goes to pull his hands away, Ryouta threads his fingers between Daiki's.
"Tell me about yourself," Ryouta asks. It comes out breathless.
"We'll trade. I'll tell you something, you tell me something," Daiki counter-demands.
Ryouta learns that Daiki has no siblings – just the pink-haired Momoi Satsuki, who lives next door to him and who he pretty much grew up with. He's been playing basketball longer than he can remember, his birthday is the 31st of August, and he has really bad grades, but his best subject is Japanese History. Ryouta answers all these questions in return, although when Daiki asks about sports, Ryouta fudges a little.
"I've played a few. None really caught my interest," he says. "I don't think basketball will be like that."
The end of lunch arrives then, and they disentangle their fingers as they leave the roof.
Ryouta reaches the first string remarkably quickly, even for him. He throws himself into the game, tracking the way the people around him move. He wants to move up. His talent is self-evident to the second-string coaches, and so it is that when Momoi-san comes to fetch him from the second-string gymnasium one afternoon, no one seems particularly surprised.
"That was quick, even for you," she says as they walk towards the first-string gym. He looks down towards her, and she's smiling slyly. "I'd heard of you and your abilities, of course, but the rumours about you did you no justice. Of course, I still projected your improvement correctly."
"Did you tell Aominecchi?" Ryouta calls him Daiki in his head, but both of them have agreed that they're not sure how they feel about letting people know about them yet, though Daiki has told Satsuki, and Ryouta has told his sisters. Daiki just calls him Kise. Ryouta likes the way that he says it, though, so it's okay.
"No," she answers, serene. "I figured you were trying to surprise him."
Ryouta grins. "Yeah," he admits, feeling shameless. "He didn't look like he believed me when I said I'd start at second-string and not stay there long."
They arrive at the gym, and Ryouta feels smug as Daiki looks over and a surprised expression crosses his face briefly. Ryouta can't watch him as he sets off on drills with his new trainer – one Kuroko Tetsuya, who Ryouta's not sure how is even on first string, let alone a regular – so he's not sure how Daiki reacts to the display of his abilities.
After practice, Daiki is waiting for him.
"I can't believe you," he says, though a smile is tugging at his mouth. "I've played a few. I should have guessed."
"Probably," Ryouta tells him breezily, and enjoys the weight of Daiki's arm as he slings it all friendly-like over his shoulders. "I'm disappointed that Aominecchi thought so lowly of me. As if I could be average when I was born to stand by your side!"
Daiki scratches the back of his head. "Yeah, yeah, I'm an idiot," he says. "Let's go celebrate your promotion to the first-string, Kise."
Their first kiss doesn't happen until a few days after Ryouta discovers Kurokocchi's abilities.
"One more time?" Ryouta's on his knees and he's begging – playing with Daiki is hard work, but it's also exhilarating. Ryouta's improving all the time, running drills and watching his teammates. Still, he never beats Daiki, and even though he's fairly sure that he won't the next time, he can't help but ask again, think, maybe I'll beat him next time...
"It's getting dark already," Daiki complains. "We need to go home."
Ryouta sighs. "Damn it." He's smiling, though, and he sees Momoi smiling indulgently at them from the side of the court too. "Okay."
Daiki chucks the ball into the ball-basket, infuriatingly accurate as the ball lands among its brethren, and they retreat to the locker room. Ryouta is about to start getting changed when Daiki tugs on the hem of his shirt, and he looks at him.
The kiss is quick and shy and awkward; Daiki doesn't seem to know what he's doing, and neither, really, does Ryouta, but it still makes him blush and he drops his head onto Daiki's shoulder to hide his face. Daiki doesn't seem to know exactly what to do with this, but settles for loosely linking his hands behind Ryouta's back.
"You're all gross and sweaty," Ryouta mumbles.
"So are you."
It breaks the dam, though. After that, there's more closeness to their casual touches, and Ryouta starts to feel like some of the other Miracles are cottoning onto them. Definitely Akashicchi and Kurokocchi, he says to Daiki at lunchtime one day as they walk towards the roof. Daiki has continued to meet him in front of his classroom, but their lunches are rarely spent alone. Momocchi and Kurokocchi often join them, and sometimes some of the others make their way up there as well. Daiki likes to steal his food, but Ryouta doesn't mind. It's kind of cute, and he can't help the way his mind wanders towards the thought of indirect kisses.
"Probably," Daiki agrees with an easy shrug of the shoulders. "Akashi's just kind of like that, and Tetsu and I are pretty good friends."
"You're not worried?" Ryouta asks. They still haven't really talked about when they're going to start telling people. Ryouta still hasn't told his parents, and neither has Daiki.
"Nah." As if to illustrate the point, Daiki takes Kise's hand as they walk out onto the roof. Momocchi is already there, as is Akashicchi. A second, harder look and Kurokocchi is there too. The three of them look up as they approach.
"I'm very happy for you," Akashicchi says.
"Shut up," Daiki growls, but he's just embarrassed, and Ryouta smiles.
"I thought so," Kurokocchi comments. Daiki lets go of Ryouta's hand to dive at Kurokocchi and mess up his hair.
Ryouta looks up to the sky, and smiles. It's the same colour as Kurokocchi's hair.
It's after they win the National tournament in their second year when things start getting bumpy.
Daiki's talent – already incredible – has exploded, and with every game and every practice, he's sadder, looking more bored. It's kind of devastating to Ryouta – he recognises the symptoms of his own boredom in Daiki, but despite his talent, he's still playing catch up, and he can't be the challenge that Daiki desires so desperately. It was different for him, too; he had never loved any of the sports he'd played even nearly as much as Daiki loves basketball, and his ability simply meant he could drop whatever sport it was that he was playing and pick up another one. Daiki cannot drop basketball. Despite how his predicament hurts him, his love for the game is simply too great.
Sometimes he wonders how it's fair for Daiki to have been everything he ever wanted, and for him to not be the same, despite their entwined destiny. (He suspects, if he asked, someone would tell him life just isn't fair that way)
"You'll get there," Daiki says one day, quietly, when Ryouta finally has the nerve to bring the subject up. They're curled up together on the couch at Ryouta's house – his parents are working late. They still haven't talked to their parents. Daiki's got both of his arms around him, and Ryouta likes listening to the steady thud of Daiki's heart. It was almost a surprise to learn Daiki enjoyed cuddling because he doesn't seem the type, except that Ryouta has always enjoyed it too.
"I want to be there already," Ryouta whispers. "It hurts to see you like this."
Daiki tugs gently on the blue hoop in his ear, but doesn't respond.
Somehow, even though Daiki draws away from the team, and stops playing one-on-one with Ryouta as often (and then, not at all), they manage to keep their relationship from falling apart completely. It may only be because they're soulmates, Ryouta thinks one day. They cannot bear to let each other go completely, knowing that they will never find a comparable connection with anyone else.
Daiki's angry, bitter, tired and unhappy all through their third year of junior high, except for those few private moments they manage to steal together where he blocks out all his miserable thoughts about the lack of fulfilling challenges in his beloved sport, and focuses only on Ryouta.
Ryouta still goes to practice more often than not, but he's bored by the lack of challenge when they play official matches too; he takes a few more jobs than he did before. He doesn't tell Daiki this; he feels guilty, as if he's letting him down by not working his hardest to catch up. There's not a lot of motivation when Daiki won't play with him anymore.
The choice about whether or not to attend a different high school from Daiki is taken away when Akashicchi institutes the vow. In all honesty, Ryouta hadn't settled on what he was going to do yet, sitting on a fence and being unable to decide which way he was going to fall. He's angry even though it's pointless, at having the choice taken away from him. The new Akashi doesn't care if they're soulmates, after all. (This is not the Akashicchi that looked up as they walked towards him and the others on the roof and he told them he was happy for them with kind warmth in his two red eyes, and Ryouta misses those days so badly it hurts)
Ryouta knows that Touou probably would have been just as amenable to his modelling schedule as they are to Daiki's lack of attendance, but in the end it's Kaijou that's the only other nationally competitive school that's willing to be as flexible about it as Ryouta wants. He can't help but be a little upset. Kaijou is in Kanagawa, and while it's not an impossible distance from Tokyo and Daiki, it's far enough to be a hassle, and Daiki is so difficult to motivate these days that Ryouta's not sure he'll make the effort to come out even though he doesn't care if he misses basketball practice.
Graduation is bittersweet, and Ryouta is positively ambushed by girls, but somehow he manages to find Daiki, and they swap buttons mostly because Ryouta is sentimental like that and he can't help the tears that swell up in his eyes and turns Daiki into a blur of blues and brown and white.
He likes Kaijou more than he expects.
Their training is relentless, and his seniors are very good at what they do, though none of them compare to him. He feels like he's growing in leaps and bounds, but knows, still, that he has yet to reach Daiki's side. It's hammered in as he finds himself losing to Kurokocchi and his new partner, Kagami.
Later, as they walk towards the park, he asks, "Are you two...?"
Kurokocchi's cheeks go pink, which is all the answer Ryouta needs for that question. Ryouta wants to ask all sorts of questions, but Kurokocchi was never the type to gossip about such things and would probably just find it invasive.
"Are you doing okay?" Kurokocchi asks, breaking the silence as they walk. Ryouta knows he's asking about things with Daiki, more than anything else.
"We don't see each other much," Ryouta admits. "Which I expected, but it hurts."
As he leaves after they destroy a bunch of assholes, he checks his messages, and despite that he hadn't been expecting a message, he was still sad to find his inbox empty.
'lost to kurokocchi' he sends. He doesn't receive a reply, and almost feels like crying again. Daiki doesn't know what it's like to lose, and he wants so badly for there to be someone who can even threaten him with a loss. He's not going to be able to do anything for Ryouta right now.
So he's a little bit surprised when he's shaken awake later by his mother after he fell asleep trying to do his math homework, and she's telling him he's got a visitor. It's late – Ryouta's slept through dinner – so there's only one person it could be.
"Aominecchi."
They retreat to his room, and Daiki pulls him close, pressing Ryouta's head into his shoulder as he shakes.
"It'll be okay." The rumble of Daiki's voice in his ear is soothing.
"I've missed you," Ryouta tells him, his voice muffled by his shirt. Daiki's grip on him tightens.
"Yeah."
"You should come see me more often," he adds. "You skip practice most of the time anyway, so it's not like you have anything better you could be doing."
Daiki makes a non-committal noise at the back of his throat. "I'll think about it."
A knock on Ryouta's door startles them. "Ryouta, is your friend staying the night?" the younger of his sisters asks. Lower, she adds, "Are you going to tell mum and dad?"
They look at each other.
"Can you stay? Do you want to tell them?" Ryouta asks.
"Do you want to?"
"He's staying," Ryouta tells his sister. "And... yeah."
Ryouta threads his fingers between Daiki's almost shyly. "Don't feel like you have to tell your parents just because we're telling mine."
Daiki nods.
As they interminably march towards a match against Touou, Ryouta gets increasingly nervous. He stops taking jobs, starts practicing more, working with Kaijou more. It feels like it has a healing effect, after the heartsickness that rotted away the Teikou team. Ryouta hadn't even noticed the sickness towards the end, so accustomed to making the justifications they did – but, he supposes, it's only natural that he'd come to see it as normal, since the sickness started on the other end of his red thread.
Daiki, for all that he said he'd think about visiting more, doesn't. Ryouta doesn't try to make him visit, but somehow it feels lonelier than those days in third year – at least then he had the warmth of Daiki's touch still. He pushes himself, striving to reach to where Daiki is standing, to be what he's meant to be.
He talks to the coach about letting him try to copy Daiki as their match up is confirmed.
"Physically, I don't think we're very far apart," he points out. "Aominecchi doesn't practice much, and I've been working really hard. I could probably do it."
They don't come to an agreement, but as the days pass and the match approaches, he becomes more and more certain that he could do it. While he doesn't attempt to recreate the style, in his mind every evening as he walks home he runs Daiki's movements through his mind. They're branded there, after all.
"Aomine-kun hasn't been by lately," his mother comments one evening.
"Aominecchi is busy with basketball practice too," Ryouta lies cheerfully in return. "We'll play against each other soon at the Inter High."
His mother doesn't seem convinced, so he beats a hasty retreat.
The game against Touou arrives on a bright summer day. Today. It has to be today. Ryouta doesn't know how much longer he can bear Daiki's misery; how much longer he can bear his own feelings of disappointment in himself. He finally lets Daiki down from where he idolises him and his skills, watches his teammates work so hard, and breaks through.
Heartbreak, Ryouta discovers, is the feeling when Daiki is walking away as his feet struggle to lift his weight off the floor.
'How could he just walk away?' is all that rings through his mind, and when he gets home, he tells his mother if Daiki comes to visit, not to let him in.
She doesn't listen, and lets him in anyway. Ryouta doesn't know how she always picks his lies, but it's so very troublesome. (Though, perhaps, telling her he didn't want to see his soulmate was just simply too big a lie to be believed)
"I don't want to see you," Ryouta still mumbles into his pillow when Daiki lets himself into his room. "Go away, Aominecchi."
"Kise." Daiki sounds sad, and Ryouta wonders if Daiki's heart is aching as much as his own is.
When he doesn't respond, Daiki sits next to him on the edge of his bed and runs his fingers through his hair.
He doesn't say sorry, but clearly he feels it, so in the end Ryouta shifts over to make room for him to lie down next to him, and Ryouta tries to bury his bitter feelings in the sensation of Daiki's warm hands in his hair.
Ryouta's not allowed to train for a few weeks. It doesn't stop him outside of Kaijou's gymnasium, though. He knows he's supposed to be resting, but he can't. He's so close now, so close to being what Daiki wants and needs so badly. He can't stop now. He goes running in the afternoons, learns to live with the perpetual ache in his leg, and when Daiki comes over he is very careful not to let on what he's been doing to himself.
They all expect him to be alright when he comes back, so he works hard to hide it from his teammates. He's pretty sure Kasamatsu's got him figured out, but he doesn't stop him, so he keeps going.
He's thankful, now, that Daiki is so unmotivated to visit often, because he's not sure how well he'd be able to keep this from him if he was around frequently. Even if he's not paying much attention, eventually Daiki will notice that Ryouta's movements are too deliberate. But his training is getting results; Ryouta doesn't want to be stopped now.
And when the Winter Cup finally descends on them, he's thrumming with excitement and adrenaline until he discovers that Daiki's first matchup is Kurokocchi and Kagamicchi again. Really, it's unfair; if Daiki wins, then he doesn't get to have revenge on Kurokocchi and Kagamicchi. If Kurokocchi and Kagamicchi win, Ryouta feels as if he will have failed to be what he has promised to Daiki, by not being his proper rival and equal, and letting someone else be what he's supposed to be.
It's hard to feel negative watching them play, though. The battle is exhilarating, and when Seirin is working so hard, Ryouta can't help but get behind them. He wants to see Kurokocchi and Kagamicchi win, because he honestly believes they deserve it more – and he wants to see Daiki lose, even if it's not to him. He wants Daiki to be happy again, truly and honestly happy, and this is the first step, and he wants it so bad he's willing to let someone else be Daiki's dream.
He wants to wait for Daiki at his home after the game, but doesn't know how he would explain it to Daiki's parents. He's not sure Daiki will go to his house, but feels, somehow, that Daiki must want to see him, and he really wants to see Daiki.
He waits, impatient, checking his phone every few minutes for a message, anything, and eventually, Daiki turns up at his doorstep. Ryouta doesn't even think before throwing himself against Daiki's tired body.
"Daiki."
It's the first time he's called him by his name, but somehow it feels right, because this feels like the first time he's seen Daiki in such a long time. Ryouta holds him close and fierce, and is held that way in return. Losing sucks, even when it's something that Daiki's needed for so long, even though he's gotten what he wanted so badly.
Eventually, Daiki loosens his grip and looks at him. Ryouta doesn't smile, but he cradles Daiki's face in his hands and leans up slightly to kiss him all over – forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, temples, eyebrows, and then, taking a moment to draw back and look at him, look at those beautiful blue eyes, gently on his lips.
"Sucks," Daiki mumbles. "Don't know what I was so hung up about."
Ryouta tugs him into the house with a small, soft smile. "Come on, Aominecchi. I'm not playing tomorrow, but I still need to rest. Have you had anything to eat?"
They don't talk about the way Ryouta feels so bittersweet over Daiki's loss, or the way he feels so disappointed in himself. Those are discussions for a later day, discussions for after the Winter Cup has been settled and Ryouta doesn't have games to think about.
Ryouta sleeps curled against Daiki's side, though when he wakes, it seems that Daiki hasn't slept at all. Daiki takes his leave early, which is disappointing; but he says that he's been asked to do a favour, so Ryouta sends him off with a smile.
He's pretty sure he won't reach anyone interesting on his side of the tournament bracket until the semi-finals, where it looks like he'll face either Seirin or Yosen. He's unpleasantly surprised the day before the quarter-final match when Kaijou's regulars are watching a recording of tomorrow's opponent and discovers Haizaki Shougo has made a re-appearance on the basketball scene.
He's tempted to tell Daiki, but he's busy. Besides, with the history between himself and Shougo-kun, that could be problematic with Daiki. They'd always tried to keep their soulmate status on the quiet at Teikou, but Daiki had always hated the way Shougo-kun had treated Ryouta, and been frustrated by Ryouta's demands not to engage.
He can deal with Shougo-kun without Daiki's help.
And he does, but not without a cost. Shitshitshitshitshit, is all he can think in the locker room later. With the toll the Perfect Copy takes, his leg might not be able to take the strain of playing another intense game like he expects from Kagamicchi and Kurokocchi.
Daiki's going to know, too. On their way to the locker room after the game, he'd pulled Daiki aside to tell him about Shougo-kun, but he already seemed to know what Ryouta had wanted to tell him. He looked at Ryouta's leg suspiciously before he nodded and wandered off, seemingly aimlessly.
Ryouta knew better.
When Daiki finds his way back to him later, knuckles suspiciously bruised up, he doesn't ask Ryouta not to play in the game against Seirin – he must know full well it would be a waste of his breath – instead, he presses a hard massage into Ryouta's injured leg that has him whimpering in pain, and grizzles moodily at him about taking better care of himself.
"It's fine," Ryouta manages to get out after. "I'm okay."
"No you're fucking not. When this tournament is over, I'm going to enforce your recovery, so help me god, Ryouta. Isn't there supposed to be someone watching out for you?"
The use of his first name makes him start, and Daiki seems to catch what he's said a moment late. He appears to brush it off, but there's a ruddiness in his cheeks that tells Ryouta he feels flustered for letting the name slip in his frustration.
"Okay," Ryouta whispers, and kisses him.
Daiki doesn't say he saw it coming when Kaijou loses the semi-final (but Ryouta knows he did, because Daiki has always had a fortified belief in Kurokocchi's determination, if in nothing else), but Ryouta knows –
If he wasn't injured, he would have won.
Daiki doesn't tell him this either, though he must know it too. It would be a cold consolation anyway; after all, Ryouta's been benched for the Kaijou-Shuutoku game because the extent of his over-training has finally become apparent to everyone.
It's frustrating, sitting on the bench and watching Midorimacchi smash through Kaijou, but the battle for third place is not one that anyone will believe he should join. He made a case to get himself on the court when it was possible they could still move to the final – here he has no literal or metaphorical legs to stand on, and can only grit his teeth on the bench and watch his team lose.
After the final battle is done, Daiki and Momocchi commandeer him from his team and Ryouta's more than a little bit surprised that they're not heading for his own home.
"Clearly, Ki-chan, we're going to Dai-chan's house," Momocchi says slowly, as if she's explaining something to a child.
Ryouta flicks a disbelieving glance at Daiki. It's not something that had come up between them before. Daiki has been reticent about telling his parents, and he hadn't even let on that he'd been thinking about telling them.
"It's probably about time," he grunts in response to the look. "Don't look so surprised, Kise."
Well, it's not that he can't argue. They told Ryouta's parents earlier this year, after all. It's just unexpected. Ryouta wants to make a good impression on Daiki's parents, and Daiki's dressed casually and looks hot, as he does with minimal effort, and Ryouta would be jealous if he didn't also do carelessly, casually good-looking too. But today Ryouta's dressed in his basketball uniform, and feels horrifically underdressed for the meeting that's about to happen.
"Aominecchi, why didn't you warn me?" he says. It comes out mildly panicked. "I'm not dressed for this!"
"I told you," he hears Momocchi mutter to Daiki.
"You look fine, Kise," Daiki tells him. "Relax. My mother might try to steal you away from me if you came in all prettied up like you would."
"I want to make a good impression on your parents, Aominecchi! Oh my god, this is so unfair, you got to meet my parents while you were dressed nicely."
Despite the way he's berating Daiki, he doesn't once think about not going with them, and when Daiki's rolling his eyes at his antics, Ryouta spares a small smile in his direction. Momocchi catches him, and smiles too, before curling one of her arms around Daiki's. Ryouta follows her lead and grabs his other arm. Daiki pulls a face, but doesn't pull away, and Ryouta thinks he probably feels very pleased with himself, having his special people around him.
"Do you want me to come in too?" Momocchi asks as they arrive at Daiki's home.
"It's okay," Daiki answers after a long silence, and his hand finds Ryouta's and interlinks their fingers. "Come on, Kise."
Daiki's hand is a little sweaty, but his grip is tight and sure, so Ryouta squeezes it as Momocchi waves and retreats to the house next door. They watch her go inside before they approach the house.
"I'm not sure how well this will go," Daiki warns him in an undertone as he pulls his keys from his pocket. "But I'm sure Mum will love you, okay? So relax."
Ryouta takes a deep breath, and summons his best smile, and Daiki opens the door.
Even with the warning, the last thing Ryouta expects is that thirty minutes later he'll be politely but coldly asked to leave.
He's tempted to impose upon Momocchi – he has a feeling there's going to be an argument when he's gone, and he'd be able to hear it from her house – but ultimately, he's pretty sure that between his leg and the amount of time it'll take him to get home, it's a terrible idea.
(Daiki had whispered at the door that it would be okay, and he'd looked so fierce and strong that Ryouta had kissed him harder than he could remember ever doing before. "You're always welcome at my home," he'd told him before stepping out onto the street.)
Waiting for Daiki to call or message, or even for Momocchi to do so, causes his train ride home drag on, and keeps him lying fretfully awake in bed after he gets there. (He'd told his mother, who'd been waiting for him to come home, everything, and she'd pressed her lips together in a worried line and settled him at the table to feed him.
"It's uncommon, but it happens," she said to him gently, sitting across from him as he ate. "We were surprised too, but you're our precious baby child, and it makes us so happy that you've found your special person. But you know, sometimes it's hard for parents, especially of only children like your Aomine-kun, and we don't know his parents situation. But something I can tell you is that no matter what the details are, situations involving other people are almost always more complicated than they appear."
She smiled at him. "Now, finish eating and go to bed. And don't think that your father and I have let you off the hook for your injury yet, either, mister.")
He passes out at some point, though, his phone resting on his chest as he stares at the roof. Ryouta wakes with a start in the morning, and has to shuffle through his blankets to try and find the errant piece of technology. There's no missed message, though, and he can't help the spike of worry that goes through him.
"Stupid Aominecchi," he mutters. "Making me worry. Why didn't Momocchi send anything either?"
He's late for school, too, as he looks at the time on his phone. He can't bring himself to hurry, though, as he dresses and walks out into the kitchen.
There's a note left for him on the counter – his mother has called in sick for him, and reminds him to make a physiotherapist appointment for his leg.
Well. Now he can get out of his uniform and into something more comfortable. Unfortunately, it would have been nice to have classes to distract him from the uncertain feelings and thoughts that are swirling around in his head.
(That he wouldn't have paid attention in class is irrelevant and ignored)
If he doesn't message me or come see me by this afternoon, then I'll get in contact with Momocchi, he resolves. It doesn't alleviate the worry, but it does give him a path to follow.
After placing the phone call to the physiotherapist that the coach had given him the details for and making an appointment for next week, Ryouta finds himself at a loss for what to do, staring at his phone and willing something to arrive. Daytime television was, as always, terrible and not particularly engaging, and he couldn't get his mind off Daiki.
He caves around midday, finally unable to wait any longer.
'Momocchi, what's going on? I haven't heard from Aominecchi, is he okay? What happened?'
The response was close to instantaneous.
'Dai-chan looks okay, there was a bit of shouting but it wasn't as loud as it's been before, so I don't know what was said, and he wouldn't tell me. He probably has plans to come see you later. He's at school today, but he's sleeping at the moment.'
Well, that was a relief. Ryouta lets out a sigh and relaxes into the couch.
'Thanks, Momocchi, I was really worried'
'No problem, Ki-chan!'
Feeling less worried had the side effect of causing Ryouta to notice how tired he still felt. It had been an exhausting tournament of very big highs and lows, and Ryouta's body still felt exhausted. He could feel himself dozing off on the couch, which was probably terrible for his back, but even the TV in the background didn't keep him alert. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of his sisters coming home, and would have roused to greet them if, when they saw his legs sprawled over the arm of the couch, they hadn't hushed themselves and took pains to be quiet. He properly falls asleep after that, because he's pulled back towards consciousness by the sound of the doorbell.
He's about to go back to sleep again, except that he's pretty sure the voice at the door is Daiki, so he struggles to wake properly as footsteps approach.
"Daiki," he mumbles. His eyes feel heavy as he opens them.
"Hey," Daiki greets him. He sits on the floor next to the couch. "Did I wake you up?"
"Mmm." Ryouta closes his eyes again, giving up on keeping them open for the moment. "S'okay though. You alright?"
Daiki's head leans back on the couch and against his side, and Ryouta lazily settles a hand in his hair. "Yeah. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. Dad's a bit weird about the boy thing."
Ryouta drags his eyes open again and looks at him. Daiki looks a little sad, so Ryouta curls around a little to kiss whatever part of his head is easiest to reach.
"I love you," he breathes into his ear.
They've never said it before. There's never really been a need; it's part of being soulmates, after all. It's as embarrassing to say as Ryouta expected, and the force of the embarrassment wakens him further. Daiki's cheeks are a bit pink too.
"Of course you do," he answers, and Ryouta laughs.