Someone shut the lights off in the middle of their match, twice.
The cleaning staff had popped in twice already, not catching the staccato sounds of squeaking sneakers against the slick gym floor. Each time the lights went out Kise's vision went with it, yet he kept moving. He could see Aomine in the back of his mind, and knew the other's every move. He could feel Aomine's presence, and hear his slight breathing.

He wasn't even winded, wherein Kise was already panting.
As the lights cracked off a second time the two kept moving, knowing the flow of the other's body beyond what eyes offered. They saw ahead and behind, feeling in the dark as bodies moved in sync with a game already played out in their minds.

Kise kept score long after Aomine stopped.
As the lights flared on for the second time the blonde jumped, feeling every muscle in his legs protest the action. He reached barely half of his usual height before beginning to fall. Desperately he took the shot, hoping weakly as he landed that it would go in.

Aomine didn't even try to stop the ball as it fell towards the hoop, only to bounce off the side pathetically. Kise took hands to his knees and panted as the ball bounced and skittered off the court, in front of the bleachers.
The blonde gasped at the air scraping his dry throat, not noticing that Aomine wasn't getting the ball for several moments. When he peeked at the other through his air there was only a scowl to greet him.

Kise straightened, and they stayed in silence.
Then, slowly, Aomine went for the ball. They resumed, but it was a fruitless endeavor.

Aomine wasn't even trying any more. He looked bored, mind in another place as Kise had to give himself a mental lash of motivation just to keep upright. He was panting, coated in a hot, suffocating sweat that made the bandages on his ankles itch.
At times they would pause on the court, dribbling numbly and staring at one another. Kise's face was deathly pale, and the more he sweat the colder his skin became. With each failed shot, each stolen ball, and each lazy score on Aomine's end, the model looked worse and worse.

But he didn't stop. He didn't give up. He kept running ragged, screaming in the back of his mind against the burning in his arms and legs.
He had to get stronger.
He had to get stronger.
It was all he could think as he fought to breathe through the growing pain.

In the end he collapsed in the center of the court as Aomine jogged to one end to score. The ball brushing through the hoop was drowned out by Kise's knees hitting the floor.
Aomine turned slowly, looking over his shoulder with a disdainful glare.

"Ao..mi.." Kise breathed, trying to force the words but, as he had with everything else, failed.
Slowly his opponent turned fully around and stepped closer, bit by bit.
"I'm not even tired, Kise." Aomine sighed dully.

Everything hurt when he didn't move, and screamed when he did.
Yet, with a slight tremble in his limbs, the blonde moved to press both hands flat against the floor. He struggled and squirmed, desperately trying to get to his feet to continue. But his vision was spotting black and ask he panted harder his throat tightened, feeling deprived of air even as he sucked in lungfuls.

When his grip gave out and he sank back the two inches to the floor he'd risen, Aomine was suddenly there, hands reaching out. They fisted into Kise's jersey, digging into the fabric and shaking once, hard.
"Just what do you think you're doing? Huh?" He snarled low, giving the blonde another shake.

Kise was too tired to react, and moved half-limp with the jarring motions. Golden eyes fluttered shut, not wanting to see the look on his friend's face.
But that only made Aomine's temper worse as he growled, teeth grit and fists shaking.

"If I told you to, just how many times would you get back up?!"
Another shake. Another lapse of silence with no answer.
"Answer me!"

More silence followed before Kise slowly opened his eyes. The tired gaze floated weakly from the floor up, to Aomine's vicious face. Kise smiled, despite himself.
"I can't get stronger if I don't do anything." He breathed, the words only half spoken, mostly mouthed dryly.

Kise watched as Aomine's face bittered into a rougher snarl, exposing teeth. At their angle with the light pouring down on Aomine's back as he held Kise up by his jersey, his dark eyes were cast in shadows that covered his face. Briefly, Kise could understand how other people would call Aomine a monster, or a demon of basketball. Even if those titles were too rough for the person he knew from Teiko.

"You can't get stronger if you tear a muscle." Aomine hissed through grit teeth.
Kise tried to laugh, though it only came as a shake of the shoulders, no sound behind it.
"I have to get stronger." Kise repeated.

"Why?!" Aomine shouted through the gym, finally letting go of the jersey in his grip with a sharp shove. Kise fell back onto the floor, slowly sprawling his tired muscles out as he fought to catch his breath. Aomine stood over him, glaring, demanding answers that were slow to come.
"Do you seriously think you can get stronger and beat me, Kise?"
A smile. A soundless laugh.
"That's exactly what I think." Kise slowly managed. Aomine's snarl turned sarcastic, seconds from a wicked, mocking laugh before Kise's voice rose again.

"The only one who can beat me, is me, right Aominecchi?" From the floor, Kise's smile was almost sardonic. "I will get stronger, and I will beat you."
Aomine's wicked smile faltered, before returning tenfold.

"You had your chance, y-"
"Then I'll train harder. I'll get stronger. I'll never stop challenging you."
Aomine paused at the resolute words, before scoffing.
"You're weak, Kise. Chasing a stupid goal like that. You think if you beat me we'll be back at Teiko all of a sudden with Tetsu and the others?" He sneered.

With air returning and heart calming, Kise managed to laugh with volume.
"I'm not mature enough to play that kind of basketball. I've told you that already." The blonde looked up at Aomine, smile fading into a rare expression of deadly seriousness.
"I'm going to get stronger for myself, and for you. But not just you."

Aomine stilled, staring. The sharpness of his face drained, and as he watched his friend fight to sit up, his eyes traced the lines of muscle that tensed and shook as Kise sat up. His body was on it's last string, begging to quit. But Kise kept pushing, farther past his limitations.
It was a simple thing, standing up.

But as Kise did, slowly but surely, Aomine found a purchase of truth in the words spoken.
With that reckless, somewhat selfish resolve Kise would keep coming at him, over and over. The idiot who acted like a playboy would only get more dangerous the longer he played. The child pining for salad days, who still cried when things got too strong to be crushed down inside, would continue to fight and struggle and burn himself away for his dreams.

It was a terrifying thing to watch, but Aomine refused to look away. His eyes stayed on Kise as he rose to his feet, trembling and gasping for air, yet smiling with a cunning charm.

"You should give up now, before you hurt yourself." Aomine growled.
Kise watched him turn away, forcing himself to stay on his feet as the other strode to the doors without a single mark of sweat or action about him.
When the door swung shut behind Aomine, Kise allowed himself to lower back to the ground, where he stayed for a very long time.

Even after the cleaning staff shut the lights off again, leaving him in darkness swarming with pain and haunting thoughts.