Chapter 4

This would probably be the fifteenth time that Satsuki would rant at him about cutting class to play basketball. It had been less common for him to do it since he left middle school, but Aomine still had much the same mindset now, when it came to his studies. That he had an athletic scholarship in the bag, and was just wasting his time with the other tedious classes that only succeeded in boring him out of his skull and provoking him to invent unorthodox uses for notebook paper. So very bored was he, in fact, that he found he would rather walk all the way to Seirin than sit there and listen to the teacher drone on. Dribbling idly against the sidewalk, fresh air in his lungs, he immediately felt invigorated, and with a quick exhalation he jogged the next block, feinting and dodging against invisible defense and maneuvering the ball around his own legs swiftly. One of his gifts was being in complete harmony with the ball, understanding how it acted and moved, and using it almost as a detachable extension of himself, something he could manipulate and send to its destination almost without conscious thought.

He didn't know if Kagami realized what he'd done, when he defeated him at the Winter Cup. He mused on this as he slowed, letting the ball bounce amiably at his side, from the pavement to his hand like a loyal companion. He had done the impossible; what Aomine had deemed to be impossible, and when he'd realized he was being challenged and pushed for the first time in what felt like forever, he'd overflowed with joy and relief. It was like he could breathe again, he could smile again...because, miraculously, he felt passionate about his passion again, and had someone he could share it with at his own level...without having to give half-hearted effort and fake his way to superficial victory.

He'd lost….and though it was a foreign, terrifying concept to him, it was such a sweet, beautiful thing that it had nearly brought him to tears once he got over the shock. But no...he'd actually been the only member of the Generation of Miracles defeated by Seirin who hadn't shed a tear at his defeat. Because to him that defeat wasn't a cruel wake-up call, it was his salvation, and it had opened up endless possibilities before him...as endless as the potential of the light he'd once called dim that was Kagami. He had been in awe of the display Seirin's ace had shown him, shocked to the point that his throat closed up and he felt both furious and ecstatic at once. He hadn't been able to sleep in the days after the match, his head was spinning too fast, his stomach lurching too much too eat anything, and finally he gave in and sought out Kagami, managing to just ask instead of begging to play against him again.

He felt free….like the spark was back; the fire that had let him grin when he played, and fly across the court without worry of trampling weaklings in his path. Of course, he reasoned that he would have to face off against weak opponents inevitably, often, but at least now he wasn't doomed to that. It wasn't all he would ever do forever. And sure, he didn't always feel like he could reach up and touch the sky, not by any means, but the fact remained that he felt happier with a basketball in hand than he did without, and he hadn't been able to say that in years.

When he arrived at the outdoor court near his rival's school, he'd accumulated a thin film of sweat across his forehead and neck, and was just slightly out of breath, but otherwise was no worse for wear from the long walk. He was unfashionably early, but honestly didn't give a damn, and promptly crossed the court at a run, leaping and tossing the orange projectile in his hand over his shoulder casually, knowing beyond a shred of doubt that it would go in no matter how his posture looked. He played sloppily and recklessly on purpose; his communication with the ball was unparalleled, and he didn't need to assume a certain stance or angle to ensure it did as it was told when he handled it. It pissed off his coaches and baffled his teammates, but he didn't like the rigid style most people used when they played, particularly when shooting. On the street there were different rules, and you didn't have time to check if your knees were bent or if your arm was shaped like a swan's neck or whatever when you released a shot.

At first he was fervent and determined, stretching his legs and watching the ball swish again and again through the net, but against himself, his fire quickly depleted under the monotony, and it was less than twenty minutes before he realized he was growing bored and even discouraged, volleying shot after shot at the undefended hoops. When this clicked, he dropped heavily to the ground after his last dunk, and didn't catch the next rebound, letting the ball roll forgotten across the court with a disgusted sigh. It always came back to this.

He slumped against the fence bordering the court and sat down, resting his chin on his elbow, arms folded on his knees. Who was he kidding? So he'd had one successful match in a million - and he hadn't even been successful, he had been demoted to another pathetic loser beaten by Seirin - and sure it had been challenging, but who was to say it would be the same next time? He couldn't count on two experiences like that in a row. Besides, maybe he was jumping the gun and Kagami had only been able to stand up to him one time because he was in the Zone….which only happened very occasionally for any athlete. It was probably hopeless to wish for it to happen again. Frustrated, he knotted his fingers in his hair, feeling all the melancholy gloom and doubt - and no small amount of ire - rush back. What was I thinking? I wasn't, I just….thought things were getting better. I thought they were going back to how they were .

He'd been encouraged - even commanded - to get stronger, to win no matter what, and while he was part of Teiko's team, he did...relentlessly, and he reached a pinnacle before many of his peers were even out of the gate, leaving him stranded, far above the rest with only the words "always win" to push him on...his team's motto. And when weakness and vulnerability left him, so did the solace...so did his smile. At first he had rejoiced in his newfound strength, before he realized he could only do one thing with it….crush his opponents. So he did just that, but it brought him no satisfaction to see them fall. And he gradually accepted a bitter pill to force down; once he attained such strength, it was impossible to go back to how he was, and once points and trophies and winners and losers were attached, basketball started to seem less fun. Losing was awful, or so he'd been told, but at the time he would have given anything to lose, just to know that it was possible for him….to know there was still room to grow, and people like him who were strong but still able to love their sport. He felt alone, and gradually grew angry and unstable, even wishing he could take all his progress back at times so he could just feel happy again. Not just on the court, but in general. When his enjoyment for basketball was sucked away, so was his enjoyment for most everything else.

He'd thought Kagami had helped...he'd thought he was picking up the pieces and fixing the damage he'd done to his own damn self...but he'd been foolish to hope. The strong weren't meant to enjoy their strength...they were only meant to maintain it and keep the weak in line. And one stolen moment of euphoria, a real challenge, a real defeat, wasn't going to change that.

.

.

Kagami was looking forward to this evening. Despite the awkward atmosphere between himself and the coach, as well as between himself and Kuroko, he was undeterred from wanting to see Aomine; wanting to play against him one-on-one and kiss him ferociously and moan his name as he was dominated and pleasured. His eagerness put an extra spring in his step and made him feel like he was running on clouds, and he reached the streetball court where he'd arranged to meet his boyfriend in what felt like no time at all. Pulling the basketball he was borrowing out from the crook of his arm, he bounced it against the pavement once and made a quick, effortless free throw just to loosen himself up. Only then did he glance about to see if he was the first one to arrive, and his eyes landed on a figure hidden in shadow, hunched at the edge of the court. Startled, he didn't retrieve the ball as it dropped to the ground and bounced away, and felt no inclination to chase it when he recognized the person sitting against the fence as Aomine.

Hesitantly, he approached, unsure what had happened. He didn't seem to be hurt, but Aomine usually had such a strong or careless presence, he wouldn't be seen huddled miserably like this if he had another option.

"...Aomine-kun?" he prompted tentatively, adding in the honorific to attempt to get his attention….to get him to show his face, which was hidden by his hands uncharacteristically at the moment.

Aomine's head snapped up, and Kagami had half a second to register relief that he wasn't bruised or sporting any evidence of a fight, but then he saw his narrow eyes, hollow and flashing with rage.

"You." Aomine growled, standing up in one rapid, fluid motion and gripping the front of his shirt with fingers like talons, Again today? Kagami thought distractedly, utterly nonplussed.

"Wh...what's the matter? What happened?" he asked frantically, trying to pull away.

"It's your fault!" Aomine shouted, pushing him violently, "I was fucking fine, and then you came along and made me start to believe -!" He broke off quickly, teeth bared and fists clenched.

Kagami was lost, and had immediately backed down when he was shoved, strongly suspecting Aomine had lost his mind, "What are you talking about? Believe what?"

"That it was possible! That I could be challenged and beaten, that I wasn't invincible and was just a player like the rest of you! But it's not possible…" his voice dropped significantly, though he was still tense and shaking with anger, "The only one who can beat me is me."

Kagami winced; he hadn't delivered that line since their match during the Winter Cup, hadn't even hinted that he still believed the statement held any water.

"But I d-did defeat you," he stammered, "We beat your score and advanced while you didn't -"

"Liar!" Aomine snapped, eyes wild and darting, "It couldn't be. I don't lose. ….I let you win; yes, that must be it, I didn't give everything I had…you couldn't have beaten me."

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and was only confusing Kagami more the longer he spoke.

"Aomine…? Are...you okay?" he asked slowly, taking a step back.

To his surprise, Aomine laughed unnervingly, starting as a soft, rattling chuckle but eventually bursting out into full-on, hysterical explosions of hilarity, tears coming into the corners of his eyes as he shook his head slowly and rhythmically, like a pendulum.

Kagami reacted without thinking, his hand whipping back before slapping the blue-haired man across the cheek, hard.

"Snap out of it!" he commanded, watching Aomine reel to the side and then meet his gaze, eyes going wide - or...wider than usual, "If you're so convinced that you weren't giving it your all I'd be happy to kick your ass again to set you straight! I defeated you, Aomine. Seirin defeated you. You lost."

And then...as if they'd suddenly gone boneless, Aomine's shoulders slumped, arms hanging limply at his sides. He opened his mouth halfway, but said nothing for a long moment, looking shell-shocked.

His voice was rusted and toneless when he spoke, "I….you're right." He dropped his deep blue gaze to the ground, "You're right, Taiga. I don't know what came over me."

Kagami blinked, not sparing a moment to feel relieved. "That's the first time you've...called me by my first name."

Aomine looked at him with the usual arrogant scowl, "Get used to it, it's what I do to people who help my sorry ass. Tetsu and Satsuki will tell you a tale or two about that."

Kagami shifted his stance, still beyond perplexed, and recovering from a miniature heart attack at what might have been an actual "thank you" in disguise, "...What exactly...happened?"

Aomine tried to shrug noncommittally, but Kagami caught a glimpse of something that almost looked haunted in his gaze as he looked away. "I got here early and had time to start thinking. And I guess I fucked myself up."

"Thinking?" It took him a second, and being subjected to a disparaging look from the other, to realize his tone with that question might have sounded a little offensive, "About what?"

"Winning...losing...what strength means."

Kagami was taken aback; he hadn't really expected him to answer that...Aomine generally didn't divulge much of what he was thinking at any given time.

"And that fucked you up, as you put it?"

"Well yeah," Aomine said, and then gave a fed-up snort, "I was feeling good before, but when I combined overthinking and basketball….it got messy."

Kagami bit his lip, silent for a long moment and trying to sort through what he'd been told...most of which was vague, and interpreting others' implications wasn't exactly his forte, "...Was it because you were on your own?"

Aomine's eyes narrowed, "...What do you mean?"

"Just...you don't usually practice by yourself, do you?"

He seemed to think about it, and then shook his head slightly, "Not since the Winter Cup, and never for long. I'd get bored."

"Maybe more than that…" Kagami muttered.

Aomine blinked, and squinted at him skeptically, "What?"

"Well….maybe you broke yourself off when you started to feel bored, because you'd do this to yourself. But you didn't this time because you were…" ...Waiting for me to show up. He felt an inexplicable prickle of guilt, before shoving it aside. He had no reason to feel guilty, neither of them was at fault.

Aomine shrugged again, unenthusiastically, "Who knows." Saying nothing else, he moved over to the side of the court and picked up the two stray basketballs that had rolled together with the almost imperceptible slant of the ground.

"...Do you still want to play?" Kagami asked, mentally slapping himself as soon as the words were out.

His rival sighed, "Not right now. Tomorrow, maybe."

"Okay." He agreed instantly, not wanting to do anything that would possibly set him off again.

Aomine looked at him sideways, and then gave a very small, smug grin, "I'd still be up for going to your place for awhile, though, if that's cool."

Kagami hesitated, half of him wanting to press the subject that had been dropped, about what had triggered Aomine's meltdown, but he let it go for now.

"Sure."

TBC

((And there you go; a healthy dose of angst. What did you expect, working with me. It comes and goes but it's always present. I'm liking this story, it's fun to write….and that was just four consecutive chapters in three consecutive days….but I will try to work on Ice eventually, when I have the drive.

Reviews keep me alive and stuff; just food for thought.

-Shinsun))