Author's Note: Hey gang, here I am with an AoKi fic. This will have a bit of violence and mature themes in the future due to the environment in which this story is written in. Enjoy... (the fic. not the violence.)

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own KnB.

p.s. Don't forget to read and review!

The moment the heavy metal door slammed shut with a heavy thud he had started to panic uncontrollably. He stared hungrily at the door crack, desperately wishing that it would open once more and this would all be a joke. The boom of the impact rang in Aomine's ears and echoed in his eardrums. After that, there was nothing.

Aomine stood still in the darkness, and felt his heartbeat speed up. His hands began to sweat, and anxiety clawed at his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bed shoved haphazardly in the back of the claustrophobic cell. Aomine dragged himself hopelessly onto the scratchy sheets.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…"

He tried to shuffle his hands around to produce some sort of noise to block out the ringing silence that was frightening him. His blood was burning like a wildfire through his veins and his breath came out in short gasps. He hadn't known that it would be like this. He didn't know it would be this silent.

Aomine was going insane.

He stood up, and paced what little length there was of the cell and kicked the wall concrete wall, knowing that no one would hear it except for him. His foot ached and screamed in pain. Aomine could feel a bruise forming.

"Fuck." He didn't have any energy to scream. There was no point. He sat down on the scratchy cot and put his head in between his knees. Aomine tried to concentrate on breathing but it still felt as if he was being squeezed from all four sides of the room. His hands trembled nervously and his body shook violently.

He was going to be stuck in here for a whole week.

Two Hours Earlier

It was his second week in prison. He had been sitting in the cafeteria, minding his own bloody business. Aomine had been picking at the revolting and mushy green substance on the right corner of his battered metal tray. He had just noticed the skin of a pea when a saw a shadow appear overhead.

"Hey."

Aomine looked up with bored curiosity. Not many people had approached him since he arrived due to his intimidating visage and sour look that he had adopted. In a way, he was thankful that this routine had been established. He wasn't interested in associating with anyone in this place.

Aomine didn't belong here like they did. Everyone had assimilated properly into prison, but Aomine still spent every waking hour hoping that by some miracle, someone would realize the misunderstanding that had occurred, hoping that someone would take him away, and hoping that his family was safe. He sometimes spent endless hours in his cell praying that everything was all right, and that someone was caring for his mother for him. Keeping her safe from him.

"Mind if I sit here?" It was a large and bulky man who looked more like a teenager than an adult. Acne scars were sprinkled all over his face and his beetle like eyes were looking at Aomine with a look that a bully would give to his target.

Aomine continued to mash his bean-like mixture with his fork and gave the man an uninterested look. He wanted him to screw off and leave him alone. Aomine wanted to avoid rubbing shoulders with scum as much as possible.

"I know what you're thinking." He sat down and leaned in to the table. He slammed his tray down and the some of the people sitting at the table flinched visibly. A large number of heads swiveled to observe the scene.

"Why doesn't this fucker just fuck off, right?" He said mockingly. "Well you're stuck with me, you little piece of shit. Let me ask you a question."

Aomine knew this type. The type of petty and lowlife prisoner who had no other way to raise his confidence, other than to pick on others that were weaker than him. Aomine snorted audibly and didn't bother sparing a look at the man. He was sounding ridiculous, trying to play a role that wasn't suited for him. He was an actor that Aomine received second embarrassment for.

"Would you rather my dick up your ass, or choking you through your throat? I'll give you two options." He held up two fingers and sneered at Aomine.

That was the first time Aomine received sexual harassment, and he knew that this wouldn't be the last. It was a normal occurrence in this sort of environment where there were no women, and a surplus of testosterone.

Aomine wasn't even revolted, shocked, or disgusted. This failed to contain even an ounce of amusement to Aomine. Everything was the same here. He picked at the bland food while listening to the bland chatter around him. He managed to tune out the acne-ridden man and started to hum a tune.

Suddenly, there was the feeling of another person grasping his arms from behind and pulling him up so roughly that he felt his head snapped back painfully. The man with the acne scars was standing with his arms crossed and a gross smile pasted across his face. He couldn't see the face of the person restraining him, but he guessed that this was some sort of gang activity, and the person restraining him was a minion of the acne-guy. Aomine felt muscular arms restraining his arms with an iron grip, and the next thing he knew, the back end of a utensil was being thrust roughly into his ass, and threatening to break his pants.

He stifled a scream as he felt something rip and then there was an impact on one side of his face.

"You should really listen to when I'm talking, you obviously don't have a fucking clue about how things work here yet, right?" He jeered.

"Hah. So losers like you can actually get some dick around here?" Aomine laughed and he felt himself being shoved roughly into his very own food, and he felt the bean mixture being shoved up his nose. His face was planted into the metal tray, and he grunted as someone pulled his head back with his hair.

"Learn some of the rules before you get cocky, you little punk. Also, learn who to respect-" He didn't finish his sentence before Aomine broke free, clambered over the table and tackled him to the floor. Aomine threw back his arm and gave a vicious punch to the man's left jaw. He tried to retaliate by grabbing Aomine's throat and then they were kicking and punching left and right. At one point, Aomine threw his head back and smashed his forehead into the guy's head, and was certain that he felt someone bleeding.

He was suddenly pulled back roughly, and Aomine realized he was staring up at a prison guard. There was no explanation and there was no talking. After being led out of a hushed canteen, he was told to change and awaited his judgment. Aomine didn't feel a sense of dread. He was confident that nothing could break him.

Two Hours Later

He was breaking.

Aomine sat on the cot with his legs propped up, and he was still clutching his head. Short breaths escaped his mouth in rapid succession and his stomach threatened to spew the bean-mixture back out.

Me, having a mental breakdown? He shook his head frantically and tried to calm down. His heartbeat pounding to the beat of a frantic drumming, a drumming that seemed to be a forewarning. Panic swelled uncontrollably inside of Aomine and he squeezed his eyes shut and wondered if he would ever stop shaking. It felt as if he had been in the darkness for hours at this point.

His teeth began to jitter and it was almost as if Aomine was five years old again, stepping onto a stage to play some musical instrument flimsily. There were a million pairs of eyes watching him, and his fingers just wouldn't move. He just wouldn't calm down no matter how hard he willed the audience to disappear. He clasped his hands together and tried to pray.

"Dear God… please…" He trailed off, remembering that he didn't believe in a god.

Shit, shit, shit-

A sour feeling burst in his jaw and he knew that he was going to puke. He scrambled off the cot and crawled as fast as he could to the furthest corner of the cell before he expelled all the contents of his stomach. The puke left a pungent taste in his mouth and he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

There was a sudden itching in Aomine's nose and he took a deep breath and sneezed. The loud noise sounded muffled in the tiny closet-like cell but it came as a sort of relief to Aomine.

At least he was still alive.

"Bless you."

Aomine froze. A muffled but clear voice had pierced through the hated silence like a piece of bread on the tongue of a person dying of starvation. Aomine suddenly scrambled to his feet and searched frantically for the source of the noise. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone.

The sense of relief that overcame him almost brought him to his knees again and he desperately searched for where the voice had originated. As if the voice had heard his prayers, it spoke once more.

"Over here. Go back onto the bed. There's a crack in the very corner of the wall." Aomine approached the cot and peered at the seemingly impenetrable concrete wall. It seemed like any other black expanse of wall but he ran his fingers along the rubbly edges and felt a break. There was a long jagged crack that was too thin to see anything through, but apparently sound was able to travel through it. Aomine knelt on the bed, feeling the crack once more and trying to convince himself that this wasn't a dream.

"Shit…" He whispered and wondered if there was any other moment in his life where he was this close to tears.

"I found it a few days ago, when some guy came into the cell you're in and I realized I could hear everything he was doing."

"Are you okay? I heard you puke earlier…" a concerned voice said in a hushed tone.

Aomine was surprised by the tone of the male on the side of his cell. Nobody in this hellhole gave a shit about each other right away. You had to regard everyone as an enemy until proven otherwise. This male was either extremely stupid or…

"I know what you're thinking. Why does he care? Right?" There was a light laugh and Aomine could hear dejectedness laced onto the words. Aomine said nothing, unsure of the words to use.

"…Okay. I've been here for a few days. They put a lot of guys in here for a day or two… and they usually take it differently. A lot of them regard this as a relaxation."

Aomine let out a snort and there was a light chuckle. The sound of laughter felt foreign to his ears, and Aomine startled. How long had it been since he last laughed?

"Well… I heard you freaking out. Sorry." The male said sheepishly. "The ones who freak out are the ones who are still desperate to leave."

He sounded like an extremely perceptive person and Aomine gained a grain of respect for him. Respect was hard to come by in prison. Prison was a place for people who had already lost all respect. It was even harder for Aomine, who regarded everyone as a dirty criminal, even though he knew that difficult circumstances brought certain people to difficult places.

"You're right." Aomine finally said. "I spend every single second wishing things had been different and that I were still…" He found it difficult to finish. He was unwilling to say anything to this stranger.

Trust no one, a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

He put a hand on the crack and dipped a finger in and felt the jagged edge of the concrete. He wished that he could reach the other side and escape this solitary cell. He had only been in the place for an hour and he was already aching for human interaction. Aomine laughed at himself bitterly.

Usually he preferred being alone, but a twist of fate gave him just what he wanted. And he ended up hating it.

"It's okay. I understand." A gentle voice pulled him back to reality and Aomine frowned.

"What's your name?" He hoped his tone didn't come out too harshly like it usually did.

"Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. I'm Kise Ryouta."

"Kise… Ryouta." Aomine repeated, trying to memorize it, but it was useless. He had already memorized it the moment Kise had said it.

"And you?" Kise said.

"Aomine Daiki."

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