CHAPTER ONE: NEXT TIME
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket...
Hi...
Inspired by the TV show, Power...
Feel free to curse me out all you like...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
Life is shitty. Everyone knows that. It's what you do with the degree of shitty-ness you've been handed that molds your character, that shapes your view of the world - including other people. There are levels to shitty-ness, if you didn't know. There's the hardly-shitty shitty, where the main concern is trivial compared to those dealing with the kind of shitty that Kagami Taiga was struggling with at the moment.
"It's...it's advanced. Stage four."
Kagami stared at the doctor, face blank, devoid of the emotion roiling within him. He tried to lick his lips, but his entire mouth was too dry to accomplish the task. He ended up blowing out a shaky breath.
A tiny, frail hand slid over to his, grasping weakly. Kagami swallowed the lump rising in his throat, but he didn't look at the older woman at his side. His attention was all for the man that held her fate in the MRI results clipped to a mounted light table.
"There is a possibility we could have caught this earlier had she kept regular screenings, but...at this point, there's nothing we can do. It's too late to cut out. Now, we can only try to ease the pain..."
Kagami closed his eyes, unaware that tears were creeping down the sides of his face. This was too much. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He'd just signed a big contract with the LA Lakers only a week ago. His dream - their dream - was finally coming true. He could finally take care of her, finally reward all of her hard work and patience.
Pain gripped him until his shoulders were trembling and his chest heaving. It was so unfair. So fucking unfair.
"May I have a moment with my son, please?"
Kagami didn't see the doctor nod with sympathy, but he faintly heard the door open and shut. A brief silence fell as his mother, Elaine Kagami, wrapped her arms around his shoulders as best she could, considering how broad they were.
"Taiga," she soothed. "Taiga, sweetheart, look at me."
He didn't want to. He couldn't. He didn't think he could bear to see the warm, heart-shaped face he was so familiar with and realize that its days were numbered. A sob burst from his chest as he buried his face in her shoulder.
"It's not fair," he mourned. "Mom, it's not fair."
"Oh, honey, of course not." She sounded like she was scolding him for being so foolish. As if none of this was as heartbreaking as it really was. "It's life. What's your auntie's favorite phrase for when something goes wrong?"
Kagami sniffed, even as a wry, unwilling smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"It ain't life if -" he started.
"It ain't shitty," she chimed in. Kagami lifted his head and wiped his eyes before bravely looking into his mother's loving, brown gaze.
"That's right," she chuckled. "I still have some fight in me, you know. And...I refuse to go without seeing my only son play the sport he loves on the professional stage."
Kagami shook his head, struggling to be as brave as she was. He pursed his lips and stared at his mother. He stared at the crow's feet gathered at the corners of her kind, sepia eyes, stared at the maroon-colored hair that was now extremely short and curly and neatly tucked beneath a gray cable knit hat. He tried his hardest to memorize her features, knowing the day she left him would be the absolute worst day of his life.
"Mom...I love you. You know that, right?"
She smiled and ran a hand through his untamed, red hair. "I'd kick your ass if you didn't."
He chuckled. He could see mist clouding her eyes, so putting up a brave front was a little easier. He sighed and climbed to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he held his arms open and faced his mother.
"So...what say we get the doc and get you outta here? There's a seafood place around here, and it's calling our name."
Elaine's resulting smile was magical.
XOXOXO
Aomine Daiki strolled into the corner grocery store, wearing a charcoal-colored suit, a dusky red dress shirt underneath, a black, silk tie, and his black dress shoes - the comfortable ones. His face was totally empty of emotion, but inside, he was seething.
He stalked through the store to the back, not bothering to give the clerk his usual stone-faced nod. Once he reached the deli section, he cut to the right through a hidden door and descended a set of old, wooden stairs. His footsteps echoed loudly in the long, dim corridor, but he ignored it. He checked the time on his Hublot watch, jaw tightening.
He reached the end of the wide walkway and entered the last of three steel doors. It screamed on its hinges, alerting the room's occupants of his presence. He stalked right over to his business partner and childhood friend, who was seated behind a cluttered card table that was covered with stacks of money. She brushed a curtain of blush-pink hair over her shoulder as she sat back in her seat and blinked large, fuchsia eyes at him. When he approached the table, he carelessly swept aside a few rubberbanded bundles and placed both palms flat to the faux leather surface.
"What the fuck is going on? Where's all the money from the Brand Street store?" he questioned, voice low and calm - bored even.
Momoi Satsuki (or rather, Squeak, as she was known to their peers) arched a brow. "What on Earth are you talking about, Dai-chan?"
A few muffled snorts came from a couple of their workers in the room, there to count the ridiculous amounts of money. Aomine glared silently over his shoulder for a beat before turning back to Satsuki.
"I'm not amused. Where is it, Satsuki?"
She sighed. "We had to close down the store and transfer the money to Bloomfield."
"Why?"
"I got a tip from Midorin that someone's been talking too much. As soon as I ordered the place cleaned out and the money moved, the store was raided. We have a snitch in our midst."
Aomine stood to his full height of 6'4" and straightened his tie. "More like a bold idiot. Where did Midorima get his info this time?"
"Ahhh, you know Midorin," Satsuki exhaled and placed her chin in her palm as she leaned an elbow on the table. "His connections are everywhere."
Aomine nodded, but he was distracted. His thoughts were on the perfectly convenient location they'd just lost. It would take weeks, maybe even months to scout a new place. Not to mention, the task was annoying and boring. Definitely one better left for his other partners.
"How's the club life?"
Aomine focused on Satsuki and smirked. "Pretty good, actually. The opening was only a few months ago and we've already been mentioned in a few major publications. Kise says he heard the club's name in a couple of songs on the radio. Things are moving along better than we expected."
"That's great! Hey! Where's Muk-kun?"
"Already at the club. I still can't get used to seeing that guy in a suit. It feels wrong for some reason."
Satsuki giggled over the noisy hum of electronic money-counting machines. "That's because Muk-kun is a sweetheart."
"Yeah, until you touch his snacks. Then, he's a god of war. It's freaky." Aomine glanced around the room, noting which workers were present. He was never unaware of his surroundings. "I'm gonna go. Make sure everyone makes it tonight. I swear, if I gotta go looking for anyone again, it's gonna be fucking ugly."
"Dai-chan, you're such a grouch. Cheer up! We're rich!"
That did pull a reluctant grin from him as he made his way back to the door from which he'd entered.
"I mean it! Ten PM sharp!"
He slammed the door and listened to the echoing of his footsteps as he sauntered down the hall and hummed a catchy tune under his breath.
XOXOXO
"You need to come out and release some stress. When was the last time you even got laid?"
Kagami huffed as he flopped backward on his large bed. "I don't know! But that's irrelevant. I don't feel like getting laid. That means dealing with people."
"Taiga, it's unhealthy to avoid human contact, you know."
"I'm not avoiding anything!"
Kagami could hear Tatsuya's exasperated sigh, and he imagined the look on his best friend/ brother's face. Probably deadpan.
"Listen, I can't make you do anything, but I wanna go check out that new club in East Harrington. You should come with me. Who knows? You might actually have fun."
Kagami thought about it. He'd heard about club Mirrored more than a few times. In fact, almost everyone he knew was talking about it: whether they'd gone or planned to. It was supposed to be upscale and popular. Trendy. While a crowd of people writhing against one another under the influence of booze and copious amounts of coke and ecstasy and whatever other drug of choice had never appealed to Kagami before, now, he figured Mirrored was just the thing required to get his mind off of his dying mother for a few hours.
He sighed long and loudly. "Fine, I'll go. But only because you're a pest, Tatsuya."
Himuro Tatsuya chuckled. "Whatever. It's time you enjoyed some of that hard-earned NBA money."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm gonna get dressed. Meet you there?"
"Sure, sure. Just don't stand me up, Romeo."
"Whatever."
Kagami ended the call with a snort and a chortle. Tatsuya had been his best friend since they were old enough to have wet dreams but young enough to not understand why. Tatsuya and Kagami's aunt had introduced Kagami to basketball the year Kagami's father had passed, and the rest was history. He and Tatsuya had been thick as thieves ever since. That was also around the time Kagami had vowed to take care of his mother in his father's place.
Look how that had turned out.
No, no! he scolded himself. Elaine wouldn't like him sulking.
He glanced around his huge bedroom and felt pangs of loneliness shooting through him. Sure, his mother was with him in the house he'd bought for her - her dream house with a cozy, wraparound porch and spacious rooms, and of course, a lavish kitchen - but her health was deteriorating fast. She was too weak to leave her bedroom a lot of the time, and while it hurt Kagami like hell, he tried to remain strong for her.
He wasn't ready to face the inevitable.
The cancer that had started in her ovaries was so bad and had spread so far that it oftentimes took the fight right out of her. Elaine battled bouts of heavy depression, mood swings, memory loss... Kagami recalled one instance when he'd awakened in the middle of the night to forceful yelling, as though she was arguing with someone. When Kagami had stumbled from his room and into hers, he'd found his mother sitting up in bed, her brown eyes focused directly ahead.
"Mom? MOM! What's going on? Are you alright?" Kagami shouted over her furious yelling.
He tripped over to her bed and fell to his knees beside it. He reached out a hesitant hand to her shoulder, but she didn't even register the gentle touch.
"No! You said you'd never leave me! Well, Ichijou, you did! You left me here with a son to raise on my own! I didn't know the first thing about raising a boy into a good man, but I did it! ...I did it..."
Her voice trailed off as she dissolved into tears and covered her face. Kagami forcefully swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he rose and slid onto the bed next to her. He folded her into his arms and tried his hardest not to fall into deep despair. He rocked the small woman and made a valiant effort to hush her violent crying.
"It's OK, Mom. Please don't cry. You know I hate seeing you cry," he murmured.
She didn't let up. On the contrary, her sobs seemed to escalate to near hysteria. Kagami gripped Elaine closer as if in reaction to the abrupt intensity coming from her. He didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to calm her down, and worse, he felt like he was on the verge of breaking down right along with her.
Elaine didn't seem like she was in the same room as Kagami. Her eyes appeared distant, and she still wasn't responding to his presence. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He was beginning to panic, his heart racing and palms going clammy. His mind was so full, so overwhelmed. His eyes went wide, and suddenly, he was a kid again. He was in his bedroom, lying in his race car bed, his mother kneeling beside him, her hand tenderly stroking his damp hair. He had a fever and a stomachache, and he was so miserable. He was crying and whining, but his mom was there. She was smiling. And singing.
"Skinna-ma-rink-ee-dink-ee-dink, skinna-ma-rink-ee-doo, IIIIIII loooove youuuu. I love you in the morning and in the afternoon, I love you in the evening, underneath the moon. Skinna-ma-rink-ee-dink-ee-dink, skinna-ma-rink-ee-doo, IIIIIIII loooove youuuuu..."
Kagami sniffed and slowly turned to face her, silent tears creeping down his face. She was still smiling, but the sweet singing had stopped.
"Do you like that song, Taiga?"
He nodded and sloppily wiped his nose with his pajama sleeve.
"You do, huh? Well! How about I sing it to you while your tummy medicine kicks in? I can teach you the words, and you can sing with me."
He nodded again and watched his mother's lips moving over the strange words at the beginning of the song. Soon enough, he got the gist and carefully began singing along.
"Skinna-ma-rink-ee-dink-ee-dink, skinna-ma-rink-ee-doo, IIIII loooove youuu..." his voice caught as he fought to maintain his composure, but he forged ahead, eyes squeezed shut. "I love you in the morning and in the afternoon, I love you in the evening, underneath the moon. Skinna-ma-rink-ee-dink-ee-dink, skinna-ma-rink-ee-doo-"
"IIIIII loooove youuu." It was a strained echo of her usual voice, but it was there.
Kagami started the song over, this time Elaine singing along with him. She wasn't completely herself, but she'd calmed down, and really that was all that mattered.
They continued the song until Elaine's voice tapered off and she was sleeping in Kagami's arms. When he realized this, he gently lowered her to the plethora of pillows she insisted on keeping, kissed her forehead, and ran a hand through her soft, barely-there bangs. He stood, unable to tear his eyes away from her face. She was so thin, so fragile-looking. Everything about her spoke of severe exhaustion, like she had fought hard and bravely, but her body was just too tired to go on.
Kagami trudged from the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a muted click. He turned his back to the smooth, wooden surface and leaned against it, a hand rising to his face and fingers rubbing the space between his eyebrows. He stood there for a long time, hurting. Hurting so deeply and completely, it was hard to breathe.
His eyes and nose stung, and before he knew it, he was sliding down to the thickly carpeted floor, his legs unable to hold him up. He could smell his mother's perfume - the one she'd worn since he was a kid - and just like its name, the scent would be etched into his senses Forever. It reminded him of the sun's warmth on a clear, spring day, reminded him of tea leaves and amber and passion fruit. He closed his eyes against the pain of reality. His mother was dying. Soon, he would never be able to sit with her, talk with her, laugh with her again. She would never tease him again, never trade recipes again, never gush with pride over his basketball accomplishes again. Frankly, it was a miracle that she was able to watch him play his first game of the season.
Hot tears ran fast and earnestly from his eyes as his mouth pulled down into a frown. Bitter sobs shook his large frame as he pulled the collar of his t-shirt up to his forehead, hiding his face.
He sat and cried there for an hour before he was able to drag himself to his bedroom and collapse into a restless sleep.
These past few months had been the hardest time of his life. Tatsuya was right. He needed something to take his mind off of the unfair situation. Maybe he was even right about getting laid.
XOXOXO
Aomine stood at the black, metal railing of the second floor, overlooking the first. Mirrored was in full swing, hosting a party for WINTERS, a very prestigious jeweler who had decided to partner with the club for more publicity in the eastern region of Teiko. Impeccably dressed men and women danced below him, some with drinks in hand, others with flesh in hand. Most were high or drunk...or both.
Aomine found it extremely amusing.
He'd changed into a midnight blue, three piece suit, his tie and vest a slate-gray. He wore expensive, gray, Italian loafers and his favorite Hublot watch. A small, white-gold ear-cuff hugged his left ear. He didn't wear much jewelry. Never had.
His eyes roamed the darkened club that was illuminated by the large multi-screened display near the entrance and flashing lights near the ceiling. Everything was sleek and modern and followed the color scheme of dark blue, gray, and black. The bar was long and glowed with electric blue lighting, and the bartenders hurried back and forth, fluidly filling orders.
Mirrored was Aomine's pride and joy, definitely a step up from being a street runner and common thug. His background could be described as tumultuous at best, but he felt as though he'd made the most of a fucked up hand.
As a wide-eyed, energetic kid, basketball was all he'd thought about. He'd played everyday at the local courts, practicing and practicing, growing stronger and stronger. His dream had been the NBA, of course. He'd wanted to be like his favorite basket ball player, Michael Jordan. And then Kobe Bryant and LeBron James had come along, adding to the list of those he'd admired. Middle school was when his talent had really blossomed, and by the time he'd reached high school, he'd dominated the sport. He'd had no equal.
Basketball got boring.
He'd skipped practice, skipped games - most of his time had been spent on the school's roof. And then, one day, he'd met a guy at the courts who'd reminded Aomine of his old self. The other teen had been tall, almost Aomine's height, but broader across the shoulders, chest, and back. He'd had two-toned, short, red hair and these impossible eyebrows. Aomine remembered making fun of them.
He didn't recall the other boy's name, but he did clearly recall the one-on-one they'd played. That guy had been the only one to ever make him play seriously and simultaneously give him a run for his money. Aomine had won that game by ten points, but the experience had left him shaking with excitement and anticipation. The red head had issued a challenge.
"Next time we play, I'll beat you!"
Twelve years later, at the matured age of twenty-eight, Aomine still remembered those words. He remembered the wide mouth, the unique, blood-red eyes that had shone with determination and ridiculous energy. Aomine remembered looking forward to meeting that strange guy on the courts again for another one-on-one.
Of course, it had never happened.
In Aomine's senior year of high school, he was involved in a car accident with a group of kids he'd thought were his friends. Turned out, they had only been along for the ride provided by his popularity and impending NBA membership. The accident had ruined his right knee. He remembered the excruciating pain, the long months of physical therapy, the bitterness and rage when his doctor had informed him that he would never play professional ball. He remembered all of it, but oddly enough, what he most regretted was not being able to meet that red head for another game.
After that, everything had changed. He'd never minded the fact that he was a foster kid, orphaned at the age of six when both of his parents had been killed in a drive-by shooting. They had been innocent bystanders, on their way home from a date, when they'd been caught in the middle of a gang war.
The news had devastated him, of course. His parents hadn't had much money, but they'd had love. They'd loved him and made sure he'd known it. He'd soothed the ache with basketball, though. Which was why he'd never really showed out in foster care. He'd focused on basketball until time had blurred past and he'd gone to stay with his uncle, his father's older brother.
Aomine Hitoshi was a different kind of man. Aomine had known it as soon as he'd entered the man's lavish home in South Teiko. Everything was high quality and so expensive, Aomine had been afraid of sitting on the white, soft leather couch. Hitoshi had chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, telling him to make himself at home.
Aomine remembered nights of wild parties: ridiculous amounts of coke, hookers, and booze. His uncle lived a fast life and feared nothing and no one. A year later, without basketball to distract him, his mind clouded with confusion and depression, Aomine had been approached by an unusually serious Hitoshi.
"Daiki."
Aomine lifted his eyes from the book he'd been pretending to read. Hitoshi rarely bothered to come into Aomine's room, so this had to be important. The tall, dark-blue haired man sauntered into the room, his brown skin glowing under the room lights. Black eyes assessed Aomine on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him. They stopped at Aomine's right knee, where a mangled scar told the story of his injury.
"How long ya plan on hidin' out in here?"
"I'm not hiding."
"Ya sure 'bout that?" Hitoshi asked, eyebrow arched as he lowered himself into the seat beside Aomine's bed. "Before the accident, ya used ta at least have dinner with me. Now ya jus' sit up here and mope like a bum."
Offended, Aomine frowned. "A bum? I'm a bum because I don't feel like coming down for dinner every night?"
"No." Hitoshi's voice was clear, deep, and stern. "Yer a bum 'cuz yer givin' up. The nephew I knew wouldn' do somethin' so weak."
Aomine didn't respond. What could he say? His uncle was right; he was weak. He couldn't play ball anymore, so what else was there for him?
"Look, boy. I ain't gonna beat around the bush here. Jus' 'cuz ya can't play basketball anymore, it don't mean ya can't do anything at all. Yer smart when yer not bein' a lazy sonuva bitch. And yer observant like yer daddy used ta be. We both know yer strong, or else ya never woulda made it through physical therapy. That's why I can't allow ya ta sit here and waste all yer potential."
Aomine cleared his throat and licked his lips before finally saying, "What am I supposed to do?"
"I'm gonna teach ya the game, boy. I'm gonna make ya the most dangerous man in the world."
Aomine appreciated his uncle for that. Because of Hitoshi, Aomine was able to have the finer things in life, even without the NBA. It was illegal and a serious hazard to his health, but he was the definition of a survivor. He'd been groomed to walk into the jungle and make it bow to him. Now, he was the head of the Asian Cartel, the biggest name in the dope and coke business.
"Daiiiiii-chaaaan!"
Aomine sighed as he straightened and adjusted his tie. He turned to Satsuki with his signature smirk.
"You made it."
"Of course! I wouldn't miss this for the world! The place is gorgeous!"
"Thanks. I've got bigger plans for it, though."
"You'll make it happen, Dai-chan. You're brilliant!"
She was exaggerating, but her words stroked his already inflated ego. He grinned and turned back to the railing, just in time to see a head of two-toned red hair, spotlighted and weaving through the crowd below.
XOXOXO
Kagami entered the dimly lit club, eyes blinking rapidly in order to adjust to the change. Once they did, his lips parted in awe. The place was huge and magnificent. Everything was so sleek and expensive-looking. He turned to Tatsuya, who was standing next to him, wearing a small smile.
"See? Nice, right?"
Kagami nodded. He had to agree. The music was just the right amount of loud and energetic, and the people (both men and women) were beautiful. Every direction he looked, he found nothing but perfection.
"This place is crazy," he muttered.
While he could appreciate and admire the environment, he couldn't say he was actually accustomed to it. Kagami was more used to small, intimate gatherings among friends, not a whirlwind of opulence, lust, and intoxication.
"Don't let it scare you," Tatsuya soothed. "Come on, we're in VIP tonight."
Kagami groaned to himself. He hated drawing attention. Basketball didn't count because he was playing the game he loved. He didn't have time to focus on the crowd of fans. This was different. This was on a scale he wasn't entirely comfortable with.
He and Tatsuya maneuvered through the people, some men bumping into him by accident, most of the women doing so intentionally with flirtatious eyes and body language. They reached a staircase to the far right of the spacious dance floor and started up, Kagami glad to be away from the grabby women. He glanced over at his dark-haired brother and found gleaming gray eyes smiling teasingly back at him.
"Are they always like that?"
Tatsuya chuckled. "Only when they think you're somebody."
Kagami looked down at his outfit with a frown. "I told you you should've let me wear my normal clothes."
"No way, Taiga. You dress like a bag lady."
"What?! That's not true!"
"It is. Relax, you're fine."
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Kagami grumbled.
He normally threw on a nice screen tee and a comfortable pair of sweats or jeans. However, tonight, Tatsuya had barged into Kagami's home instead of meeting him like he'd said he would, took one look at what he'd been wearing and steered him right back to the bedroom. Now Kagami wore a fitted, black, three-quarter sleeve shirt with a v-neck collar, and dark-blue jeans that fit him more snugly than he liked. There was a silver lining in this mess, though. Tatsuya had allowed Kagami to wear his black, navy-blue and white Air Jordan XIII sneakers. He'd refused to wear dress shoes that would probably pinch his toes, and he'd put his foot down about his woven bracelets. They'd been a gift from his mom, and he'd never taken them off. Tatsuya compromised by making Kagami wear a fancy watch made by Ulysse Nardin.
"Would you stop whining! Aunt Alex is with Aunt Elaine for the night, and you need to have a little fun. You're stressed, and I get it, but being in the house all the time isn't healthy. Aunt Elaine wouldn't want you to be a recluse because of her. You know that. She'd tell you off for it, actually."
Kagami joined in with Tatsuya's good-natured laughter as they found a booth on the second floor. The area was separated by a bouncer and a midnight-blue, velvet rope, and it stretched the entire length of the club. There were matching blue couches placed strategically throughout the VIP section, accompanied by fancy black tables.
"Wanna do a hookah?" Tatsuya asked as they spied a gorgeous waitress prance by with a bottle of champagne, a fire sparkler sticking out of it. "We can order bottle service, too. Let's unwind, Taiga."
"Yeah, sure," Kagami replied as he allowed himself to just go with the flow.
He really did need to relax and let loose a bit. They found an empty couch and table and plopped down. Kagami let his eyes wander as he watched the beautiful people milling about, making conversation.
"Can I get you fellas something?" a blonde, perky woman asked.
Wow, she was cute. She had a great smile, and laughing hazel eyes. The black shorts and tiny t-shirt she wore hugged her curvy frame.
Kagami just stared, flustered as Tatsuya picked up the slack. He was better with the ladies, anyway.
"Yeah, we'll take a bottle of your best vodka and a few Red Bulls. Oh, and a hookah. What flavors do you have?"
"Sure! We have piña colada, watermelon, green apple, and strawberry."
Kagami and Tatsuya exchanged amused glances before both saying, "Watermelon."
"Great! I'll be back with that soon!"
She hustled off, her hair swaying behind her. Kagami let out a rush of air, his face growing warm. Tatsuya chuckled.
"I can't believe how awkward you are with women."
"Shut up! I'm not!"
"Whatever you say, Taiga."
Before he could protest further, a shadow loomed over the table. Kagami craned his neck and met hooded lavender eyes, pastel purple hair hanging between them. The man was enormous - at least seven feet tall - and his expression was bored and disinterested.
"Muro-chin, who's this?"
"Oh, Atsushi! Good, good. Lemme introduce you to my brother, Kagami Taiga. Taiga, this is my friend, Murasakibara Atsushi."
"Yo," Kagami greeted with a nod.
Murasakibara's expression never changed, but he leaned over toward Kagami, hand outstretched. Kagami thought the taller man was going for a friendly handshake and was stunned speechless when the man plucked a few hairs from his eyebrow.
"Your eyebrows are weird," Murasakibara drawled.
"OW! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Kagami screamed.
Tatsuya gripped Kagami's arm to keep Kagami from surging off the couch, but was shaking with helpless laughter.
"Sorry, Taiga, I guess I should've warned you. Atsushi doesn't mean any harm, but he's really curious."
Kagami turned his attention back to the purple-haired giant, who was gazing down at the hairs he'd snatched from Kagami's eyebrows with all the inquisitiveness of a small child. Kagami blew out an exasperated breath.
"Jeez," he muttered, relaxing into the couch. "That fucking hurt."
Tatsuya petted his shoulder in sympathy before engaging Murasakibara in conversation. Kagami, on the other hand, went back to quietly observing his surroundings. He felt strange, like a lion stuck in a cage.
I don't belong here.
Most of him wanted to go back home to his mother, but he knew if he did that, Elaine would give him a hard time. She was having a good day, which meant smiles and tolerable pain. Kagami didn't want to ruin that by returning to the house and sending Elaine on an involuntary guilt trip. Besides, his aunt Alex would tear him a new one.
Suddenly, Kagami felt eyes on him. He slowly searched the area, wondering who it could be that was watching him so closely, it raised the hairs on his arms. At first, he didn't see anyone. He shrugged and tried to forget about it, but the sensation lingered. He perused the VIP area again, this time spotting a tall figure by a metal railing.
The man wore an expensive-looking suit, and he seemed rather important. He was constantly greeted by other important-looking people, and he wore a smirk that was arrogant and mischievous at the same time. Something about his brown skin, short, dark-blue hair and midnight blue eyes was familiar.
Kagami continued watching the man, unaware that Murasakibara had moved along, leaving Tatsuya carefully observant of the situation.
Out of nowhere, the man dodged an enthusiastic hug from a tall, blond man who looked like a model in his tan suit. The quick, graceful movement triggered a faint recognition in Kagami. Memories of an impromptu one-on-one game in high school filled his head. He remembered ridiculous speed and impossible shots. He'd never met such a worthy opponent. He recalled being beaten and vowing to play the teen again, next time winning.
"It's him."
"It's who?" Tatsuya asked, pulling Kagami from memory lane. "You know those people?"
"Huh? Oh, no, it's just...I played him before...a long time ago. He beat me."
"Really? He must've been good."
"He was amazing."
Kagami was so distracted by thoughts of that past game, he didn't realize he was moving until he stopped a couple of feet away from the blue-haired man. The blond stopped his animated speech and shot Kagami a wary look. The man with the midnight hair just smirked, indigo eyes hooded and amused.
"I know you," Kagami stated, frank as usual.
The man's head tilted a fraction as his smirk deepened. "Is that so?"
His voice was a deep, sultry drawl, but something in his tone told Kagami that he knew it was true. He was teasing. A grin pulled at the corner of Kagami's mouth.
"You remember, don't you?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"You owe me a game."
Something hard and bitter flashed in the man's intense gaze for the briefest of seconds before it was replaced by the arrogance and amusement Kagami had spotted earlier.
"And you have really bad timing. ...Enjoy the party."
With that, he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, turned on his heel and sauntered away without a backward look.
"Hey! Aominecchi! Wait up!" the blond called as he gave Kagami a curious parting glance and followed behind the blue-haired man.
Kagami felt like his feet were frozen in place as he watched the men disappear into a hallway near the stairs.
"Taiga, what was that about? You had me worried."
"Sorry, Tatsuya. I just wanted to say hi."
Tatsuya gave him a dubious look, but Kagami paid it no attention. His mind was still reeling from the oddly powerful presence of the blue-haired man.
Thanks for reading!
