Chapter 2

Kagami knew he was staring, openly. Knew it was impolite, and knew his inability to avert his eyes was only making the man before him grow more amused, but for the life of him, he couldn't help it. This man - this man - was the legendary Aomine? This was the extravagantly, almost obscenely rich and well-renowned host who had supposedly conquered an empire...or at the very least played an entire city, and snatched an enormous fortune right out from under its nose? Kagami had pictured some pompous, ostentatiously dressed man in his fifties or older, with an adoring mistress on each arm, probably drunk off his ass like the rest of New York was that night. This man was none of those things. He seemed to be earnestly enjoying himself without the slightest taste of alcohol or carnal companionship, he was so casually, modestly dressed, so informal and - lord in heaven - so young. He couldn't have been any older than Kagami himself was; in his late twenties, early thirties at the most. And there was a bright, almost innocently boyish light in his indigo eyes that made him look even younger.

"You- you're Aomine?" he stammered at last, unable to conceal his disbelief. In a rush, he realized that he hadn't accepted the gesture of polite greeting Aomine had extended toward him, and hastily took his hand to shake it. The grip of that large, tan hand was firm and sure, and the exquisite warmth of it seemed to linger on Kagami's skin even after he withdrew. "I'm sorry," he hurried to say, all but tripping over himself and having a hard time sorting his words with the alcohol and shock in his system, "I just...I wasn't expecting - that is, you're so…"

"I guess we both have something to learn of not going by appearances," Aomine said smoothly, looking him up and down with a gaze that was critical, but almost friendly in its soft, casual intimacy, "You aren't quite what I was expecting either, but here we are." He spread his hands in an all-encompassing gesture, seeming to hold not just the surrounding beautiful chaos he had created, but the wild atmosphere of the night itself in his open embrace.

Fuzzily, Kagami wondered what that was supposed to mean.

Something occurred to him - the reason he had sought to find the host of this colossal event in the first place - which had completely escaped him in the shock of the moment. He was sure his current impediment slowing his thoughts and reasoning hadn't helped with that at all.

"Why did you invite me?" he asked, searching those dark, open and yet strangely inscrutable eyes. Aomine started to raise one eyebrow, and he went on in a rush, "Why just me, I mean? Everyone else seems to have just showed up on their own tonight, what did you want with me to the point of sending for me specifically?"

Aomine looked at him for a moment; studying him, Kagami decided, before breaking into a pleased and terribly, frightfully gorgeous grin, his teeth flashing startling white against his skin, "I'm glad you asked."

And without another word, with hardly more than a flick of his wrist inviting Kagami to follow, he turned and started down the stairway briskly, leaving Kagami to flounder and stumble to chase after him, having to shoulder past several dozen people that blatantly obstructed his path, and yet seemed to part like the goddamn Red Sea to let Aomine past. ...Well of course.

He kept his gaze trained resolutely on that head of striking navy hair, refusing to lose it as they were swallowed in the crowd...though he supposed both of them did stand head and shoulders over most of the guests here, so he shouldn't have been too worried. Still, it had been too much of an ordeal to track the elusive host down to risk him vanishing again. As such, he was so focused that he hardly paid attention to where he was being led, until a wave of cool air washed over him, and he realized he was once again on the magnificent front steps that led up to the mansion, under the baleful gaze of the silver dollar moon and the sprinkling confetti of stars.

Taking in a lungful of clean night air, he shook his head quickly to clear it of the maddening entropy that emanated, wild and raucous as ever, from inside. Aomine, too, seemed to take a moment to just breathe in the calm stillness of the night that contrasted so starkly with the disorder he'd incited in it. And then he turned to face Kagami once again, slipping his hands in the pockets of his suit coat and seeming to rock back on his heels briefly.

"There. Now we don't have to shout to hear each other, at least," he remarked, with a flicker of that same amused, boyish grin, but this time it seemed tempered oddly with a faint strain of nerves. Kagami scrutinized him, as best he was able with the slight fuzzing of his vision and the sluggishness of his head, wondering if he'd imagined it. "If you'll join me for a stroll through the garden, we'll chat and I'll explain what you're here for, what do you say?"

Kagami shrugged, running a hand through the back of his hair to find it damp and disheveled with sweat, and attempted to offer a smile of his own, "Sure thing."

Just like that, the grin was back full-force, seeming to brighten up Aomine's entire face, and he shifted his weight over to one leg, turning his stance almost casual. "Grand. Then come with me."

Kagami had expected Aomine's "garden" to be more of a jungle, crowded with exotic trees and boxwood shrubs shaped like animals and fragrant, flowering bushes of who-knew-what; maybe with live peacocks strutting about and a French limestone courtyard with an enormous sparkling fountain in the center of it all. What he hadn't expected was what actually lay at the end of the meandering cobblestone path that Aomine led him down, around and toward the back of his gigantic house. There was a courtyard, yes, but it was nothing more than a rather nondescript flagstone circle, bordered by tall honeysuckle arches and intricate trellises of cerulean morning glories, currently shriveled closed for the night. All around them hung branches of pale blue lilacs and wisteria in full bloom, and Kagami thought he spotted a vineyard in the distance, though he doubted Aomine had any use for the grapes...or any grapes worth using. It was certainly fancy, and extravagant, but in contrast to the hysteria he'd seen Aomine was capable of cultivating in places, this one seemed calm and peaceful, almost delicate.

As he walked slowly around the rim of the stone circle, he glanced at the clumps of lavender, sage, and hyacinth creeping up to the edge, and smiled absently. "Kuroko would like this place," he said to himself. It had been flitting idly in the back of his mind since he stepped under the sweet fringes of honeysuckle - white, which happened to be his favorite, he remembered - and when he glimpsed all the blue flowers, but now he realized it was almost uncanny how this garden seemed to be made with him in mind.

He almost laughed to himself at the coincidence, but then he saw how Aomine was standing; he'd suddenly gone rigid as a marble statue, and was staring at Kagami with some strange hope and disbelief on his sharp, expressive face.

"You think so?" he asked breathlessly; it was clear he was trying to sound casual, but any and all casualty was completely belied by the fact that he'd asked breathlessly. Kagami looked at him for a long moment, trying to understand that hushed tone of voice, and the warmth and trepidation that had come into his twilight eyes after he'd heard Kuroko's… Wait.

"You know Kuroko? Kuroko Tetsuya?" he shouldn't have been surprised. After moving to the city he was beginning to have a hard time finding someone who didn't know Kuroko - hell, he was convinced half the town was in love with him, and the other half just wouldn't admit it - but he'd thought, with all his mystery and illusion, Aomine at least might have been exempt, and Kuroko had never mentioned running across this man who was clearly famed and revered throughout most of New York.

A small, sad smile crossed Aomine's face, and unlike the easy, boyish grin that made his face look remarkably youthful, this one made him look so, so much older than he was. Like he'd lived a hundred years in all the darkest, coldest places in the world, but could still remember a time when he'd seen and felt the sun's rays, once upon a time.

"Yeah," he nodded, turning away and slowly starting to follow the garden path that wound between the weeping wisteria trees, "I knew Tetsu."

Kagami jogged to catch up with him, falling into step beside him and trying to read his expression, not understanding his use of past-tense, nor the startlingly familiar shortening of Kuroko's name he'd employed. It sounded like Aomine not only knew Kuroko, but knew him well...and he wondered what about him had caused that aching, bleeding, bittersweet look to ever have a place on someone's face. Especially someone like Aomine, who had seemed so laid-back and carefree up until that point.

"I should apologize to you in advance, Kagami," he said after a moment, tipping his head back to look at the curtains of powder blue flowers that dangled above them, filling the air with their heavy, sweet perfume.

Kagami blinked at him, "For what?"

Aomine's foot scuffed a loose pebble from the path, sending it skittering away as he continued to avoid Kagami's gaze. An image of a small boy kicking rocks and sulking when he was caught in a lie came to Kagami's mind, and he wasn't sure whether to smirk teasingly or scowl at his evident immaturity.

"Well you see," he murmured, toying with the ring on his little finger, addressing it as he spoke, "I only invited you here tonight as a sort of tool; not for the pleasure of your company - though it has been pleasant - but for a service you could provide."

Kagami gave a laugh that was rather like a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets, "I thought so."

"Hah?" Aomine whipped around to look at him in blank surprise, struck dumb for a moment, before hurriedly trying to regain his composure, reaching up to adjust his bow tie and clearing his throat. "You thought so?" When Kagami didn't answer for a moment, he pressed on, insistently, "Why did you attend, then, if you thought you would be played?"

Kagami did smirk then, unable to help it, and faced him, bringing both of them to a stop in the middle of the path. "Call it curiosity."

Aomine sniffed, "You know curiosity killed the -"

"Boredom, then," Kagami interrupted, waving a hand, "I had nothing better to do than answer your summons, and I wanted to know…"

Aomine waited, after he trailed off, but eventually the faint frown that dented his forehead betrayed his impatience, "Wanted to know what?"

Kagami made a wide gesture that encompassed the garden and the house and everything in sight, "What all this is for. What the huge parties are for. Why everyone seems to know you and yet know nothing about you." He reached up and snagged a string of tiny blue blossoms, cradling it in the palm of his hand, "Why you have a garden full of wisteria and white honeysuckle in your backyard and call Kuroko by that nickname…"

Aomine was silent a moment, and then nodded slowly, "Sounds like a serious case of curiosity to me."

"That's what I said," Kagami pointed out, discarding the flowers and loosely crossing his arms.

"And if it isn't satisfied?" Aomine prompted, raising a brow, "If you don't find out all you want to know?"

Kagami lifted his shoulders slightly in a shrug, "Then I don't suppose this tool will be providing you any service."

Aomine laughed at that, tossing his head back to reveal the long, tanned column of his throat. His laughter was rich and dark and almost musical, and Kagami found himself briefly mourning when it ended.

"Yeah, that's about what I expected," he said, his deep blue eyes still dancing with mirth, "You're a writer, aren't you?"

Kagami shifted, "Not lately...why do you ask?"

"I already knew," Aomine admitted swiftly, "But that curiosity of yours, that hunger to learn and know, that just about proved it."

Kagami frowned, "Are you?"

"A writer?" Aomine grinned, already shaking his head, "No, not me, whatever would give you that idea?"

By degrees, Kagami's eyes started to narrow, "...Just the way you talk." And the way, sometimes, that formal, impersonal demeanor of his seemed to slip, as if it had been put there on purpose to cover up something else. Some deeper, rawer level of emotion. There was something there, and if it wasn't an author persona, then it had to be something else.

"Well I may not write them," Aomine said dismissively, redirecting his gaze once again, "But you could say I'm an inventor of many a good story. The one I have for you, though, is God's truth, all the way through."

"A story for me?" Kagami blinked, unsure if the skepticism that was descending on him was entirely merited. "What about?"

A slow, genuine and almost gentle smile transformed Aomine's face, and when his eyes returned to Kagami's they were shining.

"What," he began, softly, "Or rather who...all this is for."

TBC