Keigo* is a respectful language that Japanese people speak.

Katakana* is an alphabet that shouldn't be used in writing all the time (at Aomine)

She did hope that she could be closer to Aomine, but what was this?

Katsumi looked at Aomine, who was too tall for the couch, his legs hanging over the side lazily.

"Do you not have any manners?" Katsumi questioned sarcastically, although there was a hint of curiosity mixed in, because she never saw him bow or use keigo*.

"Huh? You said to make myself at home, so I did." He reached for the remote control, fiddling with it before raising his voice. "Where's your cable?!"

"I don't have cable," Katsumi answered, getting out from the fridge carrots, onions, bell peppers, all the vegetables needed to make fried rice. Then she stopped. "Cable?"

Realizing his mistake, Aomine hesitantly answered, "Yeah?"

First, his notes that he lent her written all in katakana*. Second, the bike ride he offered that was more than dangerous. Finally, his supposed help to her dinner that she couldn't cook with one hand.

"Help me cut these vegetables."

Aomine groaned, "Okay." He got up lazily and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a random knife inattentively.

"That's not even the right knife. It's this one." Katsumi drew out the vegetable knife.

"Hm. A knife is just a knife though," he muttered and put back the bread knife.

"You're really Ahomine."

"Hey, don't say that to a person who has a knife," Aomine said jokingly.

Katsumi only smiled at his meaningless threat. "Yeah yeah, let's start chopping now."

It was a mistake to hand Aomine the knife though. It was an experience equally terrifying as the bike ride home, perhaps even more.

"Hold down the carrot properly!" "Aomine, your fingers!" "You've gotta peel the onion skin, not cut it!"

By the time he was done cutting vegetables, Aomine cut himself a total of seven times, luckily only superficial cuts. He was also a crying mess, a sight that Katsumi would never forget.

"I know you're really bad at cooking, but you don't need to cry over it."

"Shut up! It's the onion's fault!"

After he was done crying, the two finished cooking the fried rice, which took twice as long as it should have with Aomine's lack of experience in the kitchen.

Now was the moment of truth. The fried rice smelled appetizing, the looks of it was normal, but the taste was the main concern. Katsumi watched Aomine intently as he greedily gobbled up the fried rice.

"How is it?" Katsumi asked eagerly.

Aomine spoke as best as he could with fried rice in his mouth, "Ish goo (it's good)."

There was an innocent expression, free of any arrogance, on Aomine's face as he ate. It wasn't the cause of the pleasant warmth that gushed in Katsumi's chest. It was the fact that she was able to eat dinner with someone and not alone. Even if it was someone she just met today and who was conceited, stupid, and lazy. Katsumi smiled and slowly began eating the fried rice, which was surprisingly good with someone like Aomine trying to be her right hand.

Aomine completely finished his dinner after only five minutes. "If you're not gonna eat your dinner, I'm gonna eat it."

"Hey, wait!" Katsumi cried out as Aomine's spoon dove into her fried rice that was only a quarter finished.

It was too late as Aomine devoured her dinner at a rapid pace. Did he not know the concept of chewing? Katsumi failed to keep up with his speed, for she was one extraordinarily slow eater. Gradually, more of the fried rice disappeared into his mouth, revealing more of the white bowl until only crumbs remained.

"Thanks for the food," Aomine surprisingly said. He did have some manners.

Then he stood up and slouched into the couch. Or not.

"Hey, you gotta at least offer to clean up your mess," Katsumi criticized who was already stacking up the dirty bowls, knowing Aomine.

"Should I help clean up?" Aomine half-heartedly asked, not making a move to get up and help.

"Whatever," Katsumi muttered as she washed the dishes clumsily with her left hand. Aomine helping her cook was more than expected.

"Ah, you have a game console. Let's play," Aomine drawled.

Katsumi sighed at his carefreeness. "I don't play games on schooldays."

"Tch, you're no fun."

"You–Midterms are in two weeks!"

"I'll just borrow Satsuki's notes next week."

Katsumi felt jealously at the overfamiliar way he spoke her name. It wasn't that she had a crush on Aomine, but she never had someone other than her family call her by her first name. But even her family uttered her name with distance, completely different from how Aomine spoke Satsuki's name.

"You sure you can still pass? After all, you're Ahomine."

"Huh?! I'm not that dumb. I can pass midterms. So let's play some Smash."

The opening music for Smash annoyed Katsumi with its temptation, but she was able to resist it. "I need to study."

"Fine. I'll play some Legend by myself then."

Exasperated, Katsumi let out a sigh. "No, you're not."

Aomine ignored her, proceeding to make a new storyline. "Why are you so uptight?"

Katsumi put away the last of the silverware into the cupboard. "You're the one who's too relaxed!"

"You think so?" There was a flurry of sounds of pushing buttons and the character's shouts of courage and the monsters' anguished groans.

Katsumi stalked over to the coffee table with the remote control laying on it vulnerably. Aomine, too absorbed in defeating the ugly ogres, didn't notice her until the bright colors of TV disappeared into pitch black.

"Hey! I was about to complete the quest!"

"Go home and study," Katsumi commanded.

"Wow, you're even worse than Satsuki." He grabbed his bag and walked towards the door.

Katsumi watched him slip on his shoes and suddenly felt her happiness dwindle. "Um, thanks for coming over, Aomine-kun. It's really nice to have company once in a while." Despite the smile that lit up her face, Katsumi's eyes were those of melancholy nostalgia.

Aomine scratched the back of his head at the sight of her contradicting emotions. "I just came to eat–I mean, to help you, baka. Wait, hold on," Aomine muttered, his face in deep thought. Suddenly, his face became illuminated with a mischievous smile. "Bakatsumi."

"Ahomine!"

"Well, I guess I can come over to help you make dinner again."

"That didn't qualify as 'help.' And I bet you're only coming for free dinner."

"Ah, I got exposed," Aomine said without a care. He thought he was being discrete about it, but to Katsumi, every action he took was with honest intentions.

"It's so obvious."

"Is that so?"

An awkward silence befell them. Aomine studied the little girl looking down at her hands who was foolishly passive outside the court, yet when she held a basketball, she overflowed with cold charisma that instilled fear into her opponents despite not being gifted in height. Or chest.

Unlike others, he didn't feel fear. He felt excitement in standing on the same court as her. He wanted to stay on the court longer with her. He liked being in her company.

But it wasn't limited to just the basketball court. Why?

Katsumi finally looked up, eager to break the silence. "You should probably go."

"Ah, you're right." Aomine opened the door, the cold of the night slapping against his face. "See ya."

"Take care," Katsumi said.

Aomine hesitated before walking out into the strangely comforting cold.

Since when was he ever self-conscious about ruffling someone's hair?