One of Hanamiya Makoto's favourite holidays had to be Valentine's Day. This should not be misinterpreted (for it would be dangerous to do so) as his being a closet romantic who actually thought it was 'the most beautiful time of the year where partners could express their love for each other', or some crap like that. It wasn't as if he looked forward to it either, but he didn't hate it.

At times when he could stomach the sight of lovey-dovey couples everywhere or the multiple shades of pink and red that would assault his vision as he walked down the streets, he learned to get used to it to the point where he could appreciate it.

For one this, there was the chocolate. Unbeknownst to outsiders who didn't know him well, the raven-haired teen actually had quite a sweet tooth, especially for good dark chocolate. In this season in particular, there was that confectionery galore as the entire student populous of Kirisaki Dai Ichi would somehow gain courage to confess to the boys of their choosing. And contradictory to what one who was familiar to his nasty reputation in the field of basketball, Hanamiya Makoto was pretty popular among women. He was athletic; a player with definite skill and ingenuity, and his stature was appealingly slim instead of overly muscular. His complexion was one that every girl envied, though one might not dare say that to his face. He was capable of smiles that could warm your heart; however the sincerity of said smiles has yet to be proven. Hanamiya was a genius with a high IQ, a fact which,combined with his athletic ability, assured his place on his school's Disciplinary Committee (an irony which no one pointed out). He was the youngest player to be made captain and when their coach resigned for reasons 'unknown', he graciously to over the roles and led the team to many victories.

Yes, he was quite the catch to anyone who could get him, and during this time in February, he could just sit back and enjoy the ride and women fell on his lap just as easily as the candy. Indeed, Valentine's Day would usually be the best time to be this Uncrowned King…

But this year was not going to be like the others before it. Why, one might ask? Well, he could ask himself that and he wouldn't have an answer.

No, actually that was a lie. Hanamiya knew exactly what was eating him.

The one thought that had been clawing his mind since a certain match during the Winter Cup last December: Kiyoshi Teppei.

Hanamiya grit his teeth at the mere remembrance of the name of the Seirin center. It wasn't just losing the match that had gotten Hanamiya worked up; Kirisaki had their share of losses, sure. And it wasn't the team who had gotten preachy against his team's playing; there was that in plenty as well. No. What was annoying Hanamiya more than anything as him.

Sure Hanamiya had come across strong players with lofty ideals, but they all in the end couldn't prove their worth in the face of Kirisaki Dai Ichi's playing, and just ended up broken, physically but most of all, mentally. They proved nothing but just what cowards they truly were in the end.

But Kiyoshi… That fool. He was undoubtedly a powerful player, with skill that meant he could survive a match even with the Generation of Miracles and had gained him the title of an Uncrowned King, like Hanamiya. But he had chosen to play for a school that was unheard of, who didn't have a basketball team of late.

In their first game against Seirin, who had surprised everyone by getting so far in the Inter-High tournament, Hanamiya knew that it would be Kiyoshi they would have to break initially. He was Seirin's pillar after all, and without him, they would have surely crumbled. Hanamiya had to hide his smirk at the Iron Heart's strong words to his team when he was carried out in a stretcher after 'accidentally' injuring his knee.

It was not the first time that his team had immobilized a player, so it had not affected their conscience (that was, if they had any). They hadn't been worried when they hear that he was hospitalized for little more than half a year afterward; Hanamiya's plan had succeeded despite their loss. Hanamiya was only mildly surprised to see Kiyoshi back the next year, seemingly recovered from his injury. What caught the usually-smirking teen were Kiyoshi's eyes… The light hadn't died after tasting failure like they usually would in other players. In fact, the seemed to shine with a new determinedness and his gaze told Hanamiya that he should not be underestimated. Hanamiya had been so sure he would have the last laugh when he would break him and his teammates once and for all, but that idiot just got back up and started spouting some nonsense about protecting his team.

Hanamiya didn't-could not understand how he lost. Even when he succeeded in injuring his target, why did it feel like Kiyoshi won something else, something more? Why had that bastard Kiyoshi approach him afterwards even though—

"Mako?" A voice cut through his thoughts and pulled him back to reality. "Is something wrong? You look really serious."

The Kirisaki captain took a moment to register where he was. He was outside, that much was obvious by the cold and the street he was on. He looked to his side to see a blonde girl clinging to his arm as she looked at him. He blinked. Ah, that's right… a few close friends dragged him out for the night and someone had brilliantly decided to bring beer along, too. Usually he was careful about how he was perceived in public, but these he hardly knew any of those people, and feeling a bit more provoked to drink by the thoughts of a certain bug that had been bothering him all week, he had let loose.

And right now, he was walking this girl (whose name he could not or bother to remember) back to her place. He glanced from her heavily made-up face to her tight low-cut top and mini skirt, the shortness of which was compensated by a ridiculously fluffy jacket and shin-length boots. This was what he was talking about: another desperate female, lured into insecurity by their being alone during this season of lovers, and just looking for a even a hook-up to ease that void. Hanamiya had no qualms about taking advantage of this; why should he when both parties were satisfied in the end? In fact he enjoyed Valentine's season because it was easier than others; just non-committal sex without too many worries.

But this year he was still riding on his anger directed towards a certain player. And hit just angered him more knowing that Kiyoshi was distracting him from the warm soft body that was pressing up against him at this moment, feigning cold. He noticed that they had reached their destination

"Ne, you were really quiet tonight at the club, Mako-san," the woman giggled, obviously having had a bit too much, too. She tiptoed to add in a whisper in his ear, "Let's see if we can turn that around…"

She then proceeded to kiss and suck on his neck, and Makoto let her. Mah, he didn't prefer overly aggressive women and would rather just have a stupid girl who would let him do whatever he wanted, but tonight he found himself too frustrated to care, too tipsy to think straight. The alcohol had helped him relax, sure, but now he needed to vent.

"This is my pla—Hah!" She gasped when he pushed her roughly against her door, his lips hungrily attacking hers.

Hanamiya's hands were on her, one on her hip and the other on her shoulder. Ah, this was he needed, he thought as his mouth trailed her skin, enjoying that moan he received, despite knowing it was fake. This was what he needed, his focus simply on this woman in front of him, and not that other annoyance, or his idiotic grin or tiresome bravado or his—

"Ouch!" he squealed when he bit harshly at her collar bone. Was this that quiet Hanamiya she spied from across the room. Apparently not, she came to realize as his mouth ravaged hers once more, his knee pushing between her thighs. "Mako…un - this is a bit… rough…M-maybe we should…"

Her worry gave way to more trepidation as he stopped his movements to gaze coldly at her.

"Didn't you say you'll have me screaming?" he questioned flatly with a tinge of condescension.

"I wanted to sleep with you, but not like t-this!" She tried pushing him away. "Not when you're obviously thinking about someone else!"

Hanamiya blinked. "Ha?"

"It's obvious you were distracted tonight. You seemed serious, you know, thinking about something a lot, and I thought I could comfort you. But I don't want you just thinking of someone else; I'm not that kind of girl." She added crossing her arms.

Hanamiya just stared at her incredulously. Did he pass out drunk and miss something here? "What are you talking about?" he asked, taking a step back in exasperation.

"Well, for one thing you just said her name when you were kissing me. Who's Kiyoshi, hm?" She noticed his eyes widen momentarily. "I don't get what's happening, whether you broke up with her or she's someone you like or whatever, but I'm not a replacement. Sorry, but goodnight, Makoto." With that she entered her apartment, slamming her door behind her.

The genius player just stared at the door, not exactly sure what had happened. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged it off.

What the hell was her problem? It was her that came onto him at the club; it was her who had started flirting and offering to take him to her place. Then she backed out? They were right there! They were making out, he was finally getting hot and she pushed him away? Great. Now he was even more frustrated than when he had begun the night…

And what the hell had she said? He had tuned out ever since they left the party. She said something about thinking of someone else? The high-schooler frowned. Yeah, he was venting out his aggravation, so what? She said that he said someone else's name. Hanamiya clicked his tongue irritably. Apparently just when things were he heating up, he went and spat out "Kiyoshi", which would (somehow) be understandable considering said person was the reason he needed to air out his annoyance in the first place. But that woman had somehow gotten it into her head that he was pining over somebody…Freaking ridiculous…

Damn that Kiyoshi kept ruining everything! (What was probably ridiculous was his reasoning, but that part of him that would usually deem what was unacceptable or not was currently drowned out by the combined forces of alcohol and pure loathing.)

Kiyoshi kept on invading his thoughts, just reminding Hanamiya again and again of that loss, his memory taunting him to the brink of insanity. Kirisaki Dai Ichi's captain had tried everything to direct his attentions elsewhere but with no avail; his thoughts kept returning to that other player over and over again. He was an enigma this cruel genius could not figure out.

Hanamiya swore the next time he saw the idiot he would punch him squarely in the face. Perhaps that would wipe way that absurd grin on his face… It didn't matter when, it didn't matter where…

Speaking of which, where was he? Hanamiya stopped his pondering to take in his surroundings. He recognized nothing of the suburban streets, deserted and dark. He identified no landmark and there wasn't even a street sign to tell him where he was. Great. Just perfect. He commended himself for following the girl to her place without paying attention on how to get back to the city. He looked up and saw building at a distance surrounding the residential area, but again there were none he could place as a definite landmark.

He sighed and just kept walking foreword. He would come across a road… eventually. At a three-way intersection he looked around again, and spotted a combi, or convenience store just at the top of a slight incline. It was lit up brightly by fluorescent lighting which was especially blinded in the darkness of the night. Perhaps he could ask someone there for directions, maybe buy himself a soda or something, too. He felt unusually parched.

He walked towards the store, stifling a yawn, when he caught the sound of cackling and laughter from beside the shop where a few junkies were seated. Four of them passed around a bottle and were cracking up over an impression one of them were making like it was the definition of hilarity. Their laughter died down in a chorus of booze-laden wheezing and hacking. Hanamiya just gave them a passing sideways glance, noticing the basket ball beside one of them, but otherwise paying them no mind. That was until one of them caught his gaze, and squinted at him from the darkness. The spiky-haired stranger turned to one of his friends and whispered, not taking his eyes off Hanamiya, "Oi, isn't that Kirisaki Dai Ichi's Hanamiya Makoto? Ya know that Bad Boy guy…?"

This was followed by everyone in that group turning his way. Ah damn, another disgruntled high-school basketball team that had lost to Kirisaki. The team had had lots of run-ins like this, considering that they played local schools in the district often, but this time unlike others there was no one with him, and he was in no shape to fight anybody (unless it was that bastard Kiyoshi…)

Hanamiya just continued walking hoping that they wouldn't try anything stupid. Ah, but Lady Luck wasn't on his side tonight, it seemed… He really didn't want to deal with them now, but they weren't giving him a chance to say no.

He heard them scrambling up, clattering empty bottles and cans in their haste. "Oi," one called at Makoto form behind, but he pretended like he hadn't heard him. That only just prompted them to run up and try blocking his escape.

A stocky sort of guy took a step closer and peered at Hanamiys'a bored expression. "You're right. It's him."

"You cost us our last shot at Inter-High!" another with a ponytail (did people still do that anymore?) accused.

Hanamiya's eyes glanced down at his track jacket, having the name of a school he vaguely remembered from the preliminary matches.

"Oh," he drawled calmly. "Getting angry over losing a match? And one that happened last year, no less? What are you guys, children?"

(Hanamiya's mind chose to ignore the irony in what he said.)

The spiky-haired person who first noticed him piped up, "You bastard! Everyone knows 'bout Kirisaki's underhanded playing, with you 'specially!"

"Yeah, injuring players and shit! You guys played dirty, and we—"

"Let me ask you something," Hanamiya said firmly, growing impatient with their stupidity. "Let's assume, hypothetically, that Kirisaki was using unfair play."

"So you admit-!" the fourth man interjected.

"Seriously don't you know the meaning of 'hypothetically'? I'm just showing you a possibility." Hanamiya glared, but the idiot didn't try anything. "Now where was I? If we were indeed guilty of all you said, we would use underhanded methods to win right? Wouldn't we use it against especially strong teams or strong players, to make it easier to win?"

He didn't wait for agreement before continuing, the condescension dripping through his sarcasm. "That being said, gentlemen, how many of your players were injured during your match against Kirisaki Dai Ichi, hm?"

The men just looked at each other, obviously not getting what was being said. Confusion was the best weapon against beasts…

"What I'm saying is that Kirisaki dai Ichi wouldn't bother doing so or even fouling you guys (hypothetically) because we knew we would win. There was no foul play during your match because we didn't have to resort to it."

"Asshole! Speaking like you can slip away with anything! Everybody who has ever gone against you knows-" The stocky guys stepped forwards threateningly.

"What do they know?" Hanamiya's voice was deadly. "Has there ever been proof of such a claim? Accidents happen in sports all the time. If you had spent more time actually practicing instead of squatting outside convenient stores like Neanderthals over a fire, maybe you could have something to complain about. Maybe if you had actual skill you wouldn't have to pin your failures on someone else without evidence."

They would have had to be completely dense no to have picked up the insult, and given Hanamiya's luck, it was obvious it was not going to be that easy.

"What did you say, you prick?" One of them grabbed the front of Hanamiya's shirt.

Makoto had seen this coming. This all followed the same pattern after all, but what he didn't count on was the rush of nausea that overcame him as he was lurched forward. Talking so much had given him a headache; these guys' shouting made it worse; and now he was feeling sick…ugh…

His eyes shifted from the ugly face in front of him to the fist that was being pulled back, aimed at Hanamiya.

-BAM-

Hanamiya saw stars and flashes of white flashed in his eyes. He felt nothing for a moment, but when the numbness quickly passed, a searing pain shot up his cheek and over his face. His cut the inner wall of his cheek and his lip. Ah, damn that hurt…

He had the feeling he was released by his aggressor, but he caught himself before he fell, crouching low on his ankles before landing a right-handed uppercut from below. He heard the sound of teeth cracking as his knuckles made contact with Stocky's jaw.

Seeing his opponent stagger backwards, the Kirisaki captain spun around and aimed a left at Spikes who was coming at him. The idiot blocked with his forearm, but did not see the more powerful right coming at his gut. He groaned in pain and doubled over, but when Hanamiya turned to face another, he felt a shooting pain in his abdomen, the pain that comes from being kneed harshly by surprised. Hanamiya keeled over clutching his stomach, curling on the ground.

By then the other's had gotten up and had surrounded him. "Gah..!" he gasped as the first kick got his lower back, the next on his thigh. His first instinct was to shield his head as the barrage continued. Ugh... he was so tired… he body started to grow numb to the pain. He decided he would just wait it out until they got bored… yeah, he'll do that.

Man tonight was the shittiest night ever.

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Hanamiya woke up to the sensation of being nudged. As he was slowly dragged from unconsciousness, he began to hear a voice besides the ringing in his ears. His waited for the dizziness to cease before he could actually listen to what was being said.

"Hey are you alright? Hey wake up… Can you hear me?"

Agh… shut the fuck up, you idiot, he wanted to say, but instead opened his eyes with the hopes that the person would be satisfied enough to stop asking. He cringed at the bright streetlight over head and tried to focus on the silhouetted figure hovering over him.

"Arrghhh..." he groaned as he tried rolling to his side, wincing at the soreness in his arms legs and torso. Damn those bastards…

"Careful! Can you get up on your own, Hanamiya?" asked a concerned voice.

Hanamiya already decided he hated whoever this was, with their sickeningly sugary voice. Wait. Did this guy use his name? Did they know each other? He managed (with great difficulty, he might add) to pull himself up to a sitting position, clutching his head at the mad head-rush he got at the movement. He looked around him, finding no one else around, before finally setting his gaze on the person beside him. Hanamiya's brows instantly formed and frown and his face lost all other expression when he realized his reason for his immediate loathing.

Kiyoshi Teppei simply smiled at the injured boy in front of him, relief evident on his face. "Good, you're awake."

Hanamiya cursed his fortunes, which at this point seemed to be non-existent.

"What are you doing here?" He ground out in more of an accusation that in a question. He made one his hands massage his jaw; it was difficult speaking with a swelling jaw.

Kiyoshi let out a small chuckle. "Actually I should be asking you that. He turned and pointed in the direction of the line of houses. "I live in this area. I was just coming out to the store when I saw you-"

Kiyoshi stopped himself when he saw Hanamiya suddenly clasp his forehead again. "Is something wrong? Does your head hurt?"

Hanamiya wanted to face-palm a thousand times over. At the same time he wanted to laugh at the hilarity of the situation. This was definitely not his night. Had his luck run dry? Perhaps this was karma finally catching up to—

"What are you doing?" he deadpanned, though his words didn't stop Kiyoshi's hands from probing his limbs and muscles.

"Just checking if anything is broken. If so you might have to be taken to the clinic," he explained as he continued looking for any sign of serious injury.

Hanamiya stared at him for a moment in disbelief. "Get your hands off me!," he growled, trying to push those large hands off him. He stopped when Kiyoshi gave him a serious look that showed that he should not dare be questioned.

"Tch," Hanamiya turned away. This was fucking humiliating, he thought to himself as he felt his fingers prodding bruised and swelling skin, groping limbs from damage on over his arms, calves and his thighs. He pretended like the big hands on his stomach and back, on his chest didn't bother him. He felt his jaw being taken between strong fingers and with a tug was forced to look at Kiyoshi. "What the fuck!" he rasped out in a whisper at the closeness. Kiyoshi's eyes met his and trailed over his face.

"Sorry, it's just that that is a nasty bruise you've got," he said, tilting the smaller man's jaw for a better inspection in the dim streetlight.

Hanamiya frowned and slapped the hand away. "Stating the obvious..."

Kiyoshi leaned back on the toes of his feet, sitting back on his heels as he gave Hanamiya a quick once-over to conclude that he was indeed alright. Whatever injury seemed superficial, but there was no doubt that they would leave bruise marks for a couple of days. "You seem OK, but you should really go to a clinic or something."

"Why?" Hanamiya said quietly, not understanding.

"Well, I'm not really a doctor, so I can't —" he chuckled to be stopped again.

"No, I meant why did you help me?"

More than the injuries or the slight intoxication, what got to Hanamiya more was the lack of understanding about what the heck was going on. Didn't Kiyoshi hate him as much as the Kirisaki captain hated him? He was sent to the hospital because of him, and now here he was checking up on him after a drunken brawl? His confusion just grew when he saw Kiyoshi smile as he answered.

"You just looked like you needed help," Kiyoshi provided. He could not just leave a person injured on the street, especially someone he knew even if their past was a bit disagreeable.

All Kiyoshi's words did were flare Makoto's anger. What was this idiot saying? Someone tell him because Hanamiya had no clue. There was no fear in his eyes seeing the Bad Boy of Kirisaki Dai Ichi, no anger over all he had done to him and his team. Was that...pity? Was Hanamiya Makoto seriously being shown sympathy right now? Why was he smiling? Did he find it amusing to see the Uncrowned King like this, so low, tipsy and hurt? Did he feel like he had nothing to fear when facing this weakened captain? Damn this fucking Kiyoshi!

"Tch, I don't need your pity," he said dangerously as he tried standing, staggering slightly before righting himself and began walking in a random direction.

He didn't know where he was going, but he needed to get away from this bastard before he lost control. And Hanamiya Makoto was always in control, damnit!

Unfortunately (as unfortunate he had been tonight) he body was not as determined as his mind. The soreness got to him and he tripped on his own footing, losing balance and vaguely having a sensation of falling towards the ground. However the impact had not come. Instead he felt a hold on his shoulder and his waist. He felt his left arm being slung over Kiyoshi's shoulder, his body now firmly supported by the Seirin centre.

"I told you to be careful, didn't I?" He clucked like a mother fucking hen. "You're in no condition to walk, Hanamiya."

"Let me go, you freak!" the Kirisaki player shouted, a little too close to his ear. Hanamiya tried pulling away but with no success. That Right of Postponement, Kiyoshi's special grip was now at his waist and prevented him from going anywhere. This was beyond the realms of usual embarrassment.

"Not until I get you somewhere I know you won't cause trouble."Kiyoshi persisted. "So either you tell me where you live or let me take you to a clinic, or we can stand out all night like this." He sounded firm. "It's your choice."

Hanamiya was going to spit out an insult when Kiyoshi added something else like he just thought of it, "Or would you rather spend the night at my place."

The dark haired boy physically resisted the urge to gag at the thought of staying even an hour under the same roof as this idiot. Reluctantly he said the name of his street.

Kiyoshi seemed to ponder this information for a moment. "That's in walking distance, right? How long do you think it will take go and come back?"

Hanamiya blinked. "Ha? What are you going on about?"

"Well, you can't walk back on your own."

"So what you're going help me?"

"Of course."

Hanamiya stared at the straightforward answer. Was this guy for real? "Geez just tell me where the road is. I'll get a cab and—"

"Do you have enough money for a cab?"

"...I'll take the train."

"You might pass out and end up God-knows-where," Kiyoshi laughed lightly, earning an elbow jab at his side. "Plus where you said isn't too far from here."

Hanamiya didn't say anything because he didn't know exactly where 'here' was.

"...You tell anyone about this and I will fucking end your life," he threatened yet conceding. Kiyoshi smiled though he knew very well that that threat might actually be carried out.

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It turned out that 'not too far from here' had a different meaning in Kiyoshi's head than it did in that of Hanamiya. He bet he took the term 'across the pond' literally as well. But despite the distance (and he meant distance), Hanamiya had hardly felt it. Most of his weight was transferred to the Seirin basketball player. The tall centre had to stoop slightly so the shorter man wasn't stretched completely off the ground.

However it was not the physical discomfort that unsettled Makoto, but the embarrassment. If anyone had ever said that he had no sense of shame of humility, they obviously had yet to see the crimson flush his pale skin wore, a flush he refused to admit was for anything other than the influence of alcohol which was steadily dissipating, while sobriety heightened his awareness. Every complaint on his side was shot down by Kiyoshi forcing his kindness down his throat.

"This is my place," Hanamiya stopped in front of a block of flats.

"Nope, I'm not buying that again." Kiyoshi commented, trying to keep moving.

"I really do live here."

"That's what you've been saying for the last five blocks." Kiyoshi said with a laugh in his voice.

"No, you idiot, I'm serious this time," he said exasperatedly, taking his keys out of his pocket for emphasis.

The friendly giant still looked suspicious, but he helped him up the building nevertheless. He watched Kirisaki's captain unlock the door to an apartment with no lights on. "Hanamiya, do you live alone?"

"What's it to you?" Makoto said tiredly. "Or do you have a problem with that too?"

"I never said I had a problem with anything. You should really have your wounds checked up by somebody."

"Oh, what ever did I do to receive the mercy of the Great Iron Heart?" Hanamiya mocked, wanting to through in an exaggerating bow, if not for the current condition of his body. "Seriously though, why have you tried helping me? Why bother? Aren't I kind of your enemy?"

Was the confusion in the raven-haired's eyes seen by those gentle brown ones?

"Sure, on the court we sorta are. I mean I dislike your methods, but you are undeniably a strong player. There must be reason you play, right? Like you must love the game even a little."

"Hah, don't get full of yourself. Don't think you know me."

"That's right, I don't, but I think that's a shame. I mean off-courts we don't have a reason to fight, do we? Tonight was just about friends helping each other right?" Teppei smiled genuinely, warmly.

He saw Hanamiya's eyes widen slightly before he glanced at his feet. "that's... Yeah, I guess." He looked up again, a small gentle smile on his face. "Thank you... Kiyoshi."

That smile however didn't last long as it was quickly replaced by one of his signature smirks, padded with arrogance and superiority. His lips were pulled back in a menacing joy as he said: "Like I would actually say something like that, baaka!

"This doesn't change anything. By next time's match, you're going to be wishing you left me on that curb?"

Kiyoshi, though taken aback bythe sudden change, resumed smiling at these words. "So there will be a next time, won't there?" If Hanamiya was caught off guard, he didn't show it. "And, no, I don't think I'll come to regret it. You may be strong, but you shouldn't underestimate us either, Hanamiya!" I challenged with a grin.

The other simply scoffed, shook his head and entered the threshold of his door. He waved a hand dismissively before he kicked the door behind him, the lock falling into place with a click.

Hanamiya didn't bother switching on any lights, manoeuvring through the all-too familiar home in the darkness as he made his way to the kitchen. Out of the freezer he pulled out a gel ice-pack he kept for after basketball practice, and kept it against his sore shoulders. He walked to the bathroom, simply washing his face and getting ready for bed.

All through this routine one thought had stayed with him, the one thought that was with him since he closed the door on the Serin centre:

I fucking hate Kiyoshi Teppei.

A/N:

Well, that was that! Hanamiya really hates Kiyoshi, but when you've got a messed up attitude, perhaps you might hate him, too (impossible as it may seem). I felt so bad for him, and I admit that those situations were kinda *cough-a lot- cough* farfetched, but it just really wasn't his night... Perhaps come morning, he would have a better day, who knows?

I apologized for any OoC-ness. Sometimes I felt like Makoto was turning into Aomine or Imayoshi for moments, but that's what you get when you go with the flow (^^; ) And quite honestly, I have no idea where this story is going; It just started with that train of thought in the prologue, so I am indeed just going with the flow again... Suggestions, anyone?

Also I'm sorry, I really wanted to update on Valentine's Day (so the title had some relevance) but I got distracted by my friends and I pranking another that day! xD

Happy Valetine's Day everybody! 3