Chapter 4:

The next day, things went smoothly, as usual, through most of his morning. His first class of the day was canceled, but since he was already up and ready, he decided to head to the library to do some studying. He'd been keeping in contact with Annie, having her send out worksheets every so often, and also utilizing her skills to help him go over his English papers before they were due. He had a report due at the end of the week and she'd sent him back a list of corrections to look over. It was a pretty big paper, and he lacked the confidence to proceed with it, especially given that it was research paper. They'd never been his strong suit, not even in his native language, and navigating the ins and outs was extremely taxing on him. To his pleasant surprise, the paper came back with fewer corrections than he'd anticipated.

"The paper was good overall," the familiar voice chimed through the headphones, "but you're still making a lot of the same small grammar mistakes that we've gone over countless time. I'll send you a worksheet that focuses on that grammar point. I want you to go over it before you go through and make the corrections in your paper so that you understand why you're making them." He grunted in reply, scanning through the pages quickly, noting every red tick mark or circle he found. "How are things going over all? Are you settling in?"

He nodded, looking up into the camera. "It's a weird adjustment."

She laughed. "Yeah, I bet. The cultural differences between our countries is kind of outlandish. Be thankful you're in a place like Cali. I think you'd have a hard time getting used to southern hospitality, or the mid-west nice. They sure like to talk your ear off, and you won't leave without at least one goody bag or five to go."

"Goody bag?" He asked.

"Like stuff to go. Also referred to as a doggy bag."

"Ah, they do that in Japan, too-"

"Not to the level that midwestners do! They'll feed you until you're fat, and then offer you pie for the ride home." She shuddered. "They're nice, but don't let them catch you in their clutches." He laughed. "I'm not kidding. Even someone as athletic as you would start having problems if you stayed too long."

"I'll just have to take your word for it. By the way, when did you say you're coming here?"

"Hmmm…" She glanced down at the phone in her hand. "The end of January I think."

"You think? Don't you make your own schedules and shit?"

"I mean yeah, but it's not like I'm constantly thinking about my vacation or anything. I'll just send you a text the week before I'm coming out. You're saving at least one night for me, right?"

"Why, so I can hear you yapping my ear off the whole time?"

She glared at him. "I should be the one saying that. If I have to hear one more word about basketball, I think I might just cut my ears off. I'm seriously concerned that your brain may one day turn into a basketball."

"Well, if it does, you have nothing to worry about because then I won't be able to keep talking about it." He smirked. "Anyway, it looks like our time is up. Thanks for the corrections."

"No problem. Make sure you do that worksheet I emailed you. I promise it will help."

"Like I don't have enough work to do." He groused, teasingly. With a quick wave goodbye, she ended the call. Sighing, he closed the lid to his laptop and slumped in his chair. After a long moment, he lifted his phone to his face and opened up the revisions he'd been emailed, as well as the worksheet. Glancing over it, he sent it to the printer and got to work.

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. His body was abnormally stiff from sitting hunched over in the chair. The sheet he'd been given was incredibly difficult and he'd nearly give up trying to work through it multiple times. He didn't have the answers immediately in front of him, but at the very least he was beginning to understand some of the corrections he'd been given on his report. Probably. He was incredibly lucky that the professor had a pretty lenient grading system, despite being an English professor, but he had already been stung a few times because of his lack of understanding. Although there was no risk of failing, there was a high risk that his class wouldn't count towards graduation.

"Whatever. I'll finish dealing with it later." His next class was in a different building and he'd be late if he didn't leave now. Throwing his things into his backpack he headed off towards the math and sciences building. Despite it being quite a distance from the library, it was a nice day out for a stroll, so he hardly minded the time outside, and a large number of students were living it up. A few were throwing a frisbee across the length of the yard. More were gathered in a tight circle under a tree with textbooks flopped open, though they seemed more interested in their phones than whatever was in front of them. More than a few couples were snuggled up to each other as they sprawled out in the sun, acting like children picking out pictures in the sky. Aomine wished, desperately, that he could also stay outside. The thought of being cooped up in another stuffy classroom for an hour and a half was the last thing he wanted to do. Not to mention the fact that this teacher in particular was literally a drone. In fact, she was so monotone, comparing her to a drone was insulting to the drone. Getting through her lecture may as well have been considered a modern-day torture tactic.

"Ugh, I wanna play basketball." He grunted turning away from the happiness being shoved in his face. He quickened his pace until he was basically jogging and made a beeline for the next building.

This building, in particular, was pretty empty during this time of day. There weren't a ton of classes that started before ten, so the number of students and faculty was probably a fifth of what it was in the middle of the afternoon. While it was a good thing for Aomine, who hated being around people more than anything – unless it was by a bunch of beautiful, busty, babes – it meant that it was the perfect area to target the weak. On any given day this was a non-issue. These were college students, or older, and most had learned to mind their own damn business after high school, but there were a select few who couldn't say anything nice, but couldn't say nothing at all either. Today happened to be one of the days where saying nothing at all was an impossible task.

As Aomine strolled down the deserted halls, head half way in the clouds, a sound from a supposedly empty, dark, classroom caught his attention. Perking up his ears, his pace slowing to a crawl, he listened. "Where do you think you're going?" A voice growled; a malice felt even from a hundred feet away resonating deep in its tone. "Don't think you're getting away you little fag."

"I… What do you w-want from me?" Another voice replied, much smaller and meeker.

"So, I heard you're one of them guys..." A third voice spoke, deeper even than Aomine's. "A homo." A chorus of laughter followed. How many guys are there? He thought. He hadn't noticed that he'd stopped moving as he pricked his ears up to catch more of the conversation. Are they really corning a guy because of some rumour? He wasn't interested in getting involved but a part of him couldn't move away. Something deep within his gut clenched, but he had no idea why.

"Where'd you hear that from?"

"Aw Michael, you know we can't rat out our informants." The first voice spoke again, his voice poisonously sweet. "But I know that they don't tell lies." Their tone switched again, back to the hard malicious venom from before.

"He's not even denying it." A fourth voice cackled. This one caused Aomine to stop dead. It was a girl's voice. "So, like, are you the one that takes it or do you like to give it? You're totally the one that takes it I bet. What does it feel like when your boyfriend sticks his dick in your ass? Does it come out brown when he pulls out? Oh my God does he like, cum inside you? Or maybe he does it on your face?" A squeal. "Oh my God ewww. I don't even want to think about it."

"Fuck, Jordan. You're putting images in my head." The unidentified first voice let out a over exaggerated gag. At that moment Aomine approached the classroom, stealthy as a mouse and peered in. There were seven people in the room, and four of them were crowded around one individual. The other two were sitting leisurely on top of desks, watching with blank expressions. The basketball player peered at the person, Michael it sounded like, being surrounded.

There was nothing unusual at all about him. He was of average heigh, somewhere between 5'8 and 5' 10, not any taller or shorter than Akashi at the very least. He had a typical build, too, maybe a little soft around the middle but otherwise nothing that stood out. He had totally neutral brown hair that went down to about his ears and his bangs were brushed back in a soft, stylish, whisp. There were no visible piercings, and not a single tattoo. All in all, this guy didn't match a single image Aomine had of what he thought a gay man looked like. (Not that he knew any gay men in real life. The only one that even seemed possible was Kise, but that had never been confirmed nor denied, and even then, he was bisexual at most.) Even his clothes were nothing outlandish – a pair of straight legged jeans and a black t-shirt with what looked to be a band logo, and an unzipped sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There was nothing about this guy that said, look at me, I'm gay! Pick me, pick me! So how in the world did he end up like this?

"Whoever they were lied this time then. I'm not gay." Michael insisted, his face a twisted mess of worry and anger. He looked on the verge of tears.

"So, you're saying he's a liar?" Jordan scoffed, flipping back her jet-black hair.

"Even if he wasn't, what does it matter to you guys? I barely even know you." There was a quiver in his voice and he shrunk back as the one guy stepped forward. The guy was massive, both in height and weight, and even just seeing his back Aomine knew he was trouble.

"Cause all you little fags are crawling around and telling people, even little kids, that it's okay to fuck other guys." One beefy arm reached out and grabbed the poor boy by the shirt collar and lifted him until he was forced to stand on his tippy toes. "First you get that bastard president to let you perverts get married, and then they start letting fucking men into the women's bathroom, so what's it going to be next, huh?" His white face was getting red with fury. "Pretty soon they're gonna start lettin' y'all touch little boys and girls and all you little fucking libtards are gonna start preachin' about how yer allowed to 'love who you want' and how that's totally natural." Jordan gagged, reflexively, covering her mouth. The other guys around him were growing visibly angry, and were now advancing on him.

"All you creeps should just be lined up and shot." The second perpetrator voiced, scowling.

"The sooner we can get rid of you, the better." Another one chimed in. "Maybe we can start with you. Not like anyone is gonna miss ya if you disappear." The group chortled, nastily. Aomine was starting to get worried. He sensed a major shift in their demeanor.

He really didn't want to get involved. And it's not like he liked gay people. Not that he hated them either but… He wasn't exactly the type to go around defending their existence… But the kid reminded him a bit of Tetsu, with his defenseless nature, and it was hard to ignore that.

"But I'm not gay!" The brunette cried, struggling with the fingers gripping his clothes. The anger in his eyes was gone and there was raw panic. If Aomine didn't step in soon…

"Like we're going to believe ya." The big guy drew his fist back and just as he was about to sling it forward, a hand grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him. He turned his head, baring every one of his teeth in a wide snarl. "Who the fuck are you?"

The entire group turned to look at him. "Aw, did your little boy toy come to save you?" Jordan mocked, batting her eyelashes. "He's too pretty for you." She turned to him. "Why don't you try a woman, cutie? I bet I could turn you straight." She leaned a little forward and pushed out her chest.

"With mosquito bites like those you're not turning anyone into anything." He deadpanned. Not registering what he said right away, her jaw dropped when it hit her and her entire body ruffled like an angry little bird. "Now does anyone want to explain to me what the fuck is going on, here?" He looked each one of the other men in the eye, his grip not slackening in the least.

"Are you one of them, too?"

"One of what?" He feigned ignorance.

"A homo."

"Do I look like a homo to you?" He asked, seriously.

"I dunno. You could be one of those perverts that's really a girl that says they're a guy. Maybe you've got a vagina hiding in your pants." The guy he was holding on to was struggling to loosen Aomine's grip on him but was failing. In the meantime, his grip on Michael slackened enough that eventually he was able to shake him off and step away.

"Do you wanna fuck around and find out?" Aomine hissed, turning a heart stopping glare at the one who had spoken. Sensing danger, he rightfully stepped back. Turning his attention back to the big guy he said, "This isn't elementary school. You mind your business, and he minds his."

"Like you're doing right now?" He clearly held back a few words. "Since you're defending 'em so hard I bet you are one of them, like gettin' it up the ass-"

"What is your obsession with the ass? We can't all be takin' it up the ass. Someone has to be giving it."

"Don't get smart with me, you little bitch." Finally, the big guy broke free of him and turned to stand toe to toe. Leaning close he jabbed a finger into his chest. "I hope every single one of you fucking fudge packing homo's dies a horrible, painful, death. I'm gonna be right there with a front row seat and popcorn as I watch you burn."

Aomine smirked and leaned in until their noses touch. "How are you supposed to watch when you'll be right there burning, too?" A fist drove forward, but his was faster. He plunged it deep into his gut, pushing until he was nearly touching his ribs and the guy stumbled back, holding his side. His cronies looked on in amazement, mouths hanging open. Jordan ran to his side, shocked mouth hanging agape. "Get the fuck out of here. And don't let me see you around this kid again, got it? I'll report you to the school for harassment."

Furious, the group picked up their bags and stormed out of the room with cries of Watch your back, mother fucker following in their wake. Without saying a word, Aomine turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "T-Thank you."

"No problem." He shrugged it off and shouldered his bag a little higher. "Go report them to the dean or something."

"I-" A long pause followed. "No. It's fine."

"Whatever. It's not my problem."

As he stepped away, Michael spoke up once more, his voice so quiet Aomine had to strain to hear him. "Aren't you going to ask?"

"About what?"

"If what they were saying is true?"

He sighed, frustrated, and turned to stare him square in the eye. "Look. I could not care any less if you're fucking Betty or Joe, it's not any of my fucking business. If you're queer fucking good for you and if not, also good for you. I don't even know you so who you spend time in the bedroom with is none of my damn concern."

Another pause. Michael looked up, nervously twisting his fingers together now. "Earlier you said we so… does that mean…" Aomine lifted an eyebrow, confused. The boy stared straight back at him. "Are you… gay?" The shock nearly knocked him backwards.

"Fuck no!" He sputtered. "I don't want nothing to do with homo's-"

"But you stepped in-" He looked a little bit hurt, though not surprised.

Aomine face-palmed, took a deep breath, and replied in the calmest manner he could. "Look, kid." Who knew if he was even the older one. "You were fighting in a public setting with a bunch of punk ass kids, and I just happened to pass by. You looked so pathetic, and reminded me of a friend back home, that I couldn't just walk by and let them beat you to a bloody pulp. I don't care who you sleep with, but it's not like I make a habit of defending every could be gay man I see."

"Oh." His expression darkened. "Well. Thanks… I guess. For stepping in."

"Yeah, whatever." Aomine shifted his bag again. He was late for class and finding a seat was going to be a bitch. He supposed he would just sneak in from the back entrance and take one of the seats at the rear of the auditorium. "Maybe just watch out that you're not alone for a few days if you're not going to report them to the campus police or the dean." He turned on his heel and started out.

"Yeah. Sure." Was the simple reply.

Scowling, he headed for class, unnamed emotions whirling inside him. The entire time he'd been in there, he'd felt something deep inside his chest that he couldn't put a finger on. Hatred? Loathing? Uncertainty? But about what? It was a mystery that was for neither here nor there, and he'd have to figure it out later. Right now, he had to shut his brain off to try and make it one more day through math.