Chapter 1

"Are you shitting me?"

"No, I'm not. I tested twice to make sure...and both times it came back positive."

"I thought you said you were on the fucking pill!"

Satsuki heaved a sigh, forcing patience, as was her wont in life.

"That was almost a year ago, Dai-chan. The doctor took me off it when I started getting those horrible migraines, don't you remember?"

Dai-chan didn't seem inclined to answer, gripping his hair with blanched knuckles and sinking heavily onto one of the linoleum steps behind him.

"Fuck...fuck," he gasped, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Satsuki floundered in place as she cast about for something to say.

"Dai-chan…?"

She watched him take a deep breath, shoulders dropping from around his ears as he let it out slowly and looked up at her.

"I'm okay...it's okay, we'll...we can figure this out..."

The lack of assurance in his voice wasn't exactly comforting, but then, Satsuki hadn't come to him looking for comfort.

"How?" she asked, coming over to sit beside him and pressing the hem of her skirt down anxiously around her knees, "Dai-chan, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," he said, clasping his hands behind his neck and leaning back against the stairs, as if a school stairwell could have possibly made a comfortable headrest, "I'm sure we'll think of something."

.

.

The sky is pitch black by the time he pulls up to the street court, but the bright, faintly humming hoop lights still illuminate the free throw lines spray-painted on the beaten tarmac, and the loose congregation of bettors and competitors huddled in the center, so as to obscure wagers from prying outside eyes. Gambling law in Tokyo is a hot mess, and is just strict enough for lucrative matches like these to be held in relative secret. But there are no regulations against recreational streetball, and as long as the gamblers pass for spectators, it's hardly ever enforced anyway.

At the edge of the court, Daiki pauses to kneel down and lace up his basketball shoes - just off-brand black high-tops at this point; he'd swapped the last of his Jays for rent and groceries long ago - taking the opportunity to lazily survey the competition. Some new faces here and there, as well as a few he recognizes, but nothing impressive on the outset. Only one guy even approaches his height, and he looks nervous, frequently checking the empty street over his shoulder and running his fingers through his vibrant red hair. His darker-haired, somewhat shorter companion, who seems much more assured, and frequently engages the tall guy in quick bursts of conversation Daiki can't understand, is also unfamiliar.

Huffing a dismissive breath to himself, Daiki gets to his feet and stretches his legs, before sauntering over to join the ragtag group of players gathering in the middle of the court, where teams are being decided by the smug, self-appointed MC, Imayoshi Shouichi.

"Well, there goes the game, everyone," Imayoshi grins sardonically, as Daiki approaches the center line, "How 'bout it, are we feeling merciful tonight, Aomine?"

Daiki's eyes cut to the imposingly tall, fidgeting redhead on the other side of the line, holding his gaze, and he can't fight a sneer, "Not even close."

Imayoshi's grin widens, "Bummer. Alright folks, if you'd like to place your bets, now's the time. The rest of you," his sharp eyes scan the circle of players surrounding him, eternally full of their own lofty amusement behind the reflective flash of his glasses, "It's a thousand yen entrance fee for the first heat - three-on-three, full-court rules. No pushing, no shoving, no aggravated assault, you all know the drill. First team to twenty takes the round. Any questions? No? Good. Pass the hat, gentlemen, and we'll start with the tip-off."

In a fluid motion, Imayoshi whips a beaten folding cap from his head and thrusts it at Tall Guy's chest, upside down like a charity basket at church. The hat makes its rounds and returns to Imayoshi's hands filled with a mound of creased and crumpled bills, and deftly, he folds it in half twice to stow in the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Now then," he says, with finality as well as brimming anticipation, clapping his hands together and motioning to one of the more familiar spectators hovering nearby. At his signal, a weathered basketball comes sailing directly into his hands, and he drums it against the pavement once or twice before allowing it to spin, tantalizing, on the end of one finger. All eyes are on him now. "Let's have the tallest to the center line, shall we?"

With a cursory glance at his current teammates - whom he barely knows, but whom he can bet definitely know of him - Daiki advances a step to the middle of the court, while they fan out behind him, already starting to crouch in defense. Tall Guy faces him head to head, after receiving an encouraging word and a brief pat on the back from his dark-haired friend. Idly, Daiki notices a gleam of silver hanging from around both of their necks, and settles into a comfortably derisive smirk. How cute, they're matching…

Across the court, a whistle screeches. The ball goes up, and so does Daiki, but his fingertips barely have a chance to nick the dimpled surface before it's whisked away by Tall Guy, who drops immediately into a triple threat and starts sizing him up with narrowed eyes under kind of freakish eyebrows.

Alright, fine then. Daiki rolls his shoulders to loosen them, deciding to let this guy know exactly who he's dealing with a little sooner than expected. It's only fair.

Tall Guy fakes left, but Daiki doesn't fall for it, following his gleaming red eyes as they dart around the court, looking for an opening. His stance is low, predatory, and the guy copies him, wetting his lips as he drives the ball against the ground once, twice, between the legs, around and - there.

Taking the split-second opening, Daiki lunges for the ball. Tall Guy is ready for it, switching hands behind his back and guarding against him, watching his every move. But he's already starting to sweat, and it hasn't even been a full minute yet. His nerves are showing, and Daiki is going to exploit every last one of them before he crushes this guy under the heel of his crappy knock-off shoe. Just like all the rest.

He makes another dive for the ball, and Tall Guy steps back this time, hesitating. Daiki wants to cluck his tongue at him impatiently. There's no stalling in basketball…

"What is this, gym class?" he taunts, shaking his head in pretend dismay, "Make the shot or give the ball to someone else, hm?"

"Shut up," is Tall Guy's brilliant retort; his deep voice has an interesting rasp of agitation to it, "I'm thinking."

Daiki laughs, "Don't hurt yourself."

He strikes out again with one arm, invading Tall Guy's bubble, and Tall Guy finally lets the ball fly, flinging it behind his back to his dark-haired teammate. Daiki's disappointed in him, but not surprised. Figures the goody two (name brand) shoes would also be a team player.

Tall Guy's teammate doesn't waste any time pussyfooting around. As soon as someone marks him, he shoots, the ball sailing from his fingertips in a perfect arc and swishing cleanly through the net, almost silent. Daiki takes the opportunity to snap it up, and has no more than taken a single step before - oh, hello - Tall Guy is back again, squaring off against him with his arms outstretched on either side.

Daiki gives him a downright pitying smirk, "It's gonna take more than that, friend."

Crouching low, he dribbles a rapid criss-cross around his ankles, feints one way, twists around Tall Guy as he follows him, and makes a break for the hoop. Tall Guy and his teammates try to stop him, of course, but they may as well have not existed for all the good they did in impeding the shot. Effortless, as always.

From there, it should have been all too easy for him to take command of the game, to drive past opponents and teammates alike and amass points with his usual brand of relentless consecution. It should have been. But Tall Guy, apparently, is not going to just roll over and accept that.

After his predictably weak start and his failure to follow through, now that he's seen what Daiki's made of, his nerves seem to just melt away, and he becomes an entirely different player, blocking Daiki at every turn and even getting in his face for good measure. And Daiki soon discovers that not only is he tall, but really broad as well, using the full width of his massive shoulders to become a goddamn human wall with the sole purpose of getting in Daiki's way. It's annoyingly impressive how built he is too, like he's been chiseled out of fucking marble; simply muscling past him is out of the question, it seems.

He even manages to score a few baskets of his own, instead of dishing off to his teammates every chance he gets, showing a preference for dunks and other flashy plays from way too high above the ground. ...Seriously, the guy jumps like he's wearing moon boots or some shit, and it shows in the way the score stays tied up all the way into the double digits.

From the sidelines, Daiki imagines he can hear people biting their nails as their jacked up bets hang in the balance. It's too late in the game for it to be this close.

And it's aggravating, because it's still not like the guy is on par with Daiki, but he's sure acting like it all of a sudden. When he's marking him - and he's always fucking marking him - he's grinning, showing lots of straight white teeth, and he throws taunts like he expects Daiki to indulge him in some kind of playful, teasing banter. People generally don't tend to enjoy being crushed, so Daiki's going to take it as a hint that this guy just isn't being crushed hard enough.

Better fix that then.

Snatching the ball as it rebounds off the backboard from one of his own useless teammates, Daiki drives it violently into the net, crashing to the ground hard and immediately whipping around to stop Tall Guy from intercepting it, curling his lip as he skids to a stop in front of him.

"Finally getting serious, huh?" Tall Guy pants, still grinning like a damn fool all over his stupid face.

Daiki blinks a little at that, but doesn't ask, just slips past his screen to regain possession of the ball, and this game.

It doesn't surprise him that the game ends in his overwhelming victory. That, by now, is a given. It does surprise him, though, that it took so long, and required so much effort on his part that he will not admit to using. His soaked shirt and shaking legs and all around shortness of breath might be giving him away just a tad, though. Whatever.

He would have to be an idiot to expect Tall Guy not to confront him after the match. He doesn't seem like the sore loser type, but he does seem like the handshaking "good game, you beat me fair and square" type, which is almost as annoying.

So, after collecting his share of the winnings for the first heat - which is all he plans on doing tonight, thank you - he doesn't so much as bat an eyelash to see the guy approaching him as he turns around.

"Hey, good game, man, that was intense," Tall Guy says, and what the fuck is he still smiling about? Daiki raises an eyebrow at him.

"And you are?" he asks dismissively, pocketing the cash and starting to walk away from him.

"Oh, right," Tall Guy visibly backtracks, jogging to catch up with him, "My name's Kagami...Taiga. No need to ask yours, you're sort of a celebrity around here, Aomine."

"Uh-huh," Daiki agrees, snatching up his bag from the sidelines and digging around for his keys, "So, Kagami...what do you want?" Surely not a pat on the back and a condescending "you did well" speech, the guy all but admitted that he'd expected to lose.

Kagami holds up a hand, index and middle finger extended like a peace sign, "Two things."

Daiki looks at him, unimpressed, for a moment, and then swings his bag over his shoulder, "That's too many things."

"Just," Kagami persists, cutting in front of him as he starts to leave and holding a hand in front of his chest, "Hear me out. Please."

Daiki heaves a begrudging sigh, and stays put, "Fine. What."

"I want a rematch."

Daiki blinks. He doesn't know why he's surprised, but he is. Mostly because of the fierce spark of determination in the guy's strange eyes, like he expects a different outcome from their next game. Like he might even expect to win next time.

"...And?"

Okay fine, he's intrigued by that. By the possibility that what he saw today might not have been Kagami's limit. And besides, he's already going to be playing again, it might as well be against this guy.

Kagami hesitates this time, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat before standing up straight and naming his second request.

"A date."

Daiki stares."Excuse me?"

If he was surprised before, this time he's completely thrown, looking Kagami up and down skeptically, unable to decide if he's being serious or not. He's being awfully presumptuous, if so.

"Go out with me," Kagami repeats, earnest, and okay, so he is serious, after all.

Well, can't say the guy doesn't have a big ol' pair of brass ones, at least. His social skills could use some work.

But then, what Kagami said seems to catch up with him and he flushes dark, dropping his gaze quickly to look at his shoes.

"That is um...you don't have to, obviously, if you don't want to, I mean, shit are you even -?"

"Gay?" Daiki interjects, neutrally.

If possible, Kagami goes redder, but Daiki thinks he can see a tiny smile crooking up the corner his mouth, "I was gonna say single."

Daiki has to think about it, though it probably isn't the kind of thing that should have to be thought about. The short answer is that it's complicated. And that would be a lot easier to give a complete stranger like Kagami than the long answer and all its...domestic issues. Maybe some other time...

He shrugs, "Jury's kinda out on both of those right now, so…"

"Is that a yes?" Kagami asks, like he can hardly dare to believe it. Like he's amazed by the very idea. Daiki frowns.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, dumbass" he says, waving off the astonishment on Kagami's stupid, hopeful face, "...How's this? Sure, I'll go out with you, if you can beat me. In a match, one on one, doesn't matter to me, but show me that first. Then I'll consider it."

Kagami starts to open his mouth, maybe to ask, maybe to argue, but in the end he just shuts it, and nods in agreement.

"Okay." Then he bares his teeth at him in that blinding grin that was so irritating...so distracting, on the court, "Deal. Just try not to cry when I hand you your ass next time, now that I've got a reason to go all out."

Daiki doesn't have to suppress a shiver of anticipation at that. He doesn't.

"Let's see you put your money where your mouth is," he says coolly, "Next time -"

"Taiga!" Daiki looks over to the middle of the court, where Kagami's friend with the matching jewelry is waving him over, "You staying for the next round, or what?"

"Y-yeah, just a second, Tatsuya!" Kagami shouts back.

"Well, I guess that's my cue to go," Daiki says, but again, Kagami stops him.

"Wait - just a second." He fishes around in his pockets and pulls out a pen, grabbing Daiki's wrist with his right hand and pulling him over.

"The fuck -?" Daiki starts, but Kagami's already scrawling something onto his palm with his left. A phone number, no doubt.

"In case you change your mind," is all he says, releasing his wrist and stepping back. His touch lingers like a pleasant smell, and Daiki can't stand it.

"Yeah, whatever," He scoffs, and turns to leave again, starting toward the parking lot with a purpose. This time Kagami lets him go.

.

.

"Do your parents know?" Dai-chan asked the next day after practice, stretching his arms over his head in a picture of nonchalance. His face and the tone of his voice were anything but.

"Yeah," Satsuki nodded numbly, squeezing her clipboard to her chest and biting her lip.

"...And?"

She huffed a humorless laugh, crossing her ankles under the bench, "Well, they're not thrilled..." she began dryly, trailing off as she considered the weight of the rest, "They...said I should probably start looking for a clinic."

Dai-chan's whole body went rigid, and he released a breath like a sliver of glass, "...Fuck, what...what do you think?"

"I… God, I don't know, Dai-chan, I don't...I mean...for goodness' sake, we're only seventeen, we can't possibly…" she broke off, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything, or met the other's eye, the unspoken truth a palpable wall of tension between them. It had been...it was supposed to have been, a one-time thing...not a lifetime thing. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I um…" she began after a moment, pushing her hair over one shoulder absently, "I got into Ritsumeikan University." Shifting where she sat, she waited for Dai-chan's eyes to turn back to hers. They did, still wide with shock, and now confusion, "Early decision."

"Ritsumeikan…" Dai-chan echoed blankly, parsing out the change of subject in that way that he had. Slow but steady. "Wait, isn't that in Kyoto? Why are you going so far away?"

Satsuki breathed out a sound that had been trapped in her chest since yesterday. A laugh or a sob, both, she wasn't sure.

"I-it's a really good school, Dai-chan," she said, bowing her head to stare at her shoes, "It's more than I could have hoped for, and I…" her voice choked off, and she covered her mouth with a hand, "I r-really wanted to go…"

Eyebrows furrowing, Dai-chan came over to the bench and sat beside her. His arm was warm and solid as he laid it gingerly across her shoulders, drawing her close.

"Hey," he said, gentle, reaching out with his other hand to wipe away the tear that had started dripping down her cheek, "Don't do that, Satsuki, hey...it's okay."

"W-what are we going to do?" she stammered, looking up at him and seeing her own fears and doubts reflected on his face. She'd never seen those blue eyes look so tired.

He looked away first, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully as he surveyed the empty gym, "...Ritsumeikan, huh?" he said at last, considering, "Well...if that's what you want, Satsuki, you...you should totally go for it. Don't let anything stand in the way of what you want to do."

Wiping her face on the sleeve of her sweater and grimacing at the smear of foundation that came away, Satsuki sat up straight and tried to pull herself together.

"Th-that's sweet of you to say, Dai-chan, but...I can't. I probably can't even go to college at all, now that -"

"I said," Dai-chan interrupted, leveling her with a look of raw determination that was so rare now, but still caused something to tug viciously in her guts whenever she saw it, "Don't let anything stand in your way. You got that?"

"So...you think I should…?" Her hands fumbled in her lap, before hugging around her stomach she let the question hang open, empty.

Dai-chan visibly winced, squirming uncomfortably like the bench had suddenly gotten hot.

"That's…it's your decision to make. It's your body. And hell, maybe it would make things...easier, but -"

"But…?"

"Please..." Her head snapped up at that; she could count the number of times Dai-chan had ever begged her for anything on one hand, and she didn't need all the fingers. "Please don't do it, Satsuki, I…"

Satsuki sighed, dropping her face into her hands helplessly, "I can't go to one of the top medical schools in the country and take care of a baby at the same time, Dai-chan, I just...can't. It's too much…"

Silence, for a count of several seconds...then:

"I'll take care of it."

.

.

"You're pretty late, Aomine-kun."

"What?" Daiki protests, glancing at the black sky behind him like he can tell time by the placement of the fucking moon, "I only went one round, what time is it?"

"Almost ten-thirty," Tetsu informs him, stepping back from the door, "Come in, and take off your shoes this time, please. We're not in the States."

"Yeah yeah," Daiki grumbles, kicking off his damn generic shoes and scuffing his feet into a pair of guest slippers, "Is she asleep?"

"Yes," Tetsu says over his shoulder, leading him down the narrow hallway of his apartment to the bedroom, "I put her to bed early like you asked, she did seem rather out of it."

"It's just a cold," Daiki murmurs, opening the door at Tetsu's invitation and peering into the room.

"Doctor?" Tetsu asks thoughtfully, hanging back in the hallway.

"No, I asked Satsuki."

"Ah. As good as, then. How was work?"

Daiki puts two fingers to his temple and theatrically cocks them back.

Tetsu sighs, but there's an edge of his weird, dry humor to it, "And the game?"

"It was pretty interesting, actually," Daiki whispers, turning back around and shutting the door behind him quietly.

Tetsu blinks, face inscrutable as always, and waits for him to elaborate. That's the thing about Tetsu; he doesn't feel the need to fill silences any more than he has to. Sometimes Daiki respects that about him, sometimes it's just aggravating.

"This new guy, Kagami," Daiki continues, unconsciously glancing down at his vandalized hand, "He put up a pretty good fight."

Tetsu mock gasps, completely deadpan, and lays a hand over his chest, "Be still my heart."

"Shut up," Daiki rolls his eyes, "He still lost big time."

"That's not what it looks like to me," Tetsu says primly, and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

"Are you going to keep talking, or can I take Yui and get the hell out of here? It's been a long-ass day."

"Yes, by all means, take her and leave, it's been a twenty-four-hour day for me as well."

"Smug little shit," Daiki mutters to himself as he starts to turn the doorknob again.

"So," Tetsu breathes conspiratorily, "When's the wedding?"

Daiki almost falls through the door he'd been cautiously easing open and hisses out a curse as he stumbles, "Fucking - what?"

"Nothing, nothing," Tetsu says behind his hand, stifling his laughter at Daiki's expense, the bastard.

Holding back a long-suffering sigh, he approaches Tetsu's bed that seems to dwarf the tiny lump of his sleeping daughter, curled up under the sheets. Yui's short pink hair spills over the pale blue pillowcase and two pudgy fingers are stubbornly in her mouth, though she must be having trouble breathing through her nose. It's not running anymore, but it's still red and crusty and probably horribly stuffed up.

Absently, he brushes her bangs back and feels her forehead. It's warm, but dry, with no sign of clamminess yet. He's still going to check the exact temperature when they get home, though, this cold has been hell on his nerves already without adding on a fever. Why do little kids always have to get sick?

He pulls back the blanket slowly, delicately so as not to disturb her, but he probably needn't have bothered. She's out like a light, and doesn't resist as he gently scoops her up and fits her slumbering form against his shoulder. He can already feel the drool soaking into his sleeve, and it puts the worry of waking her firmly out of his mind.

"Goodnight, Aomine-kun," Tetsu murmurs at the door, as Daiki switches back into his shoes and doesn't even try to tie them with his hands full. "See you next week."

"Yeah," Daiki whispers, supporting Yui's back and feeling in his pocket for his keys, "See you, Tetsu."

Slipping out of Tetsu's apartment, he unlocks his car and braces his knee against the door as he fastidiously buckles Yui into her car seat, and then lets it fall shut without a sound.

Every ache and exhausted muscle suddenly remembers its existence as he eases into the driver's seat, and by the time he starts the engine and makes his way onto the road, all he can think about is sleep. Home, then sleep.

He glances in the rearview at his comatose daughter in the back seat, her fingers contentedly back in her mouth with her head lolled to one side, and allows a stupid, sappy smile to cross his face that no one will ever see.

She's got the right idea.

TBC