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BANDS OF black AND blue
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inspired by narcoleptic95's drabbles on livejournal
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25 : of a good disposition
"What - " Aomine begins, though there is no room for questions in his tone, " - the fuck did you just say."
His movements are closer to that of an animal than a man, the third-year basketball player from Touou thinks as he finds himself lifted three inches up, back forced against the wall. The ace of the Generation of Miracles looks him in the eye, another snarl forming across his lips.
"You heard me," the senior calmly retorts, narrowing his eyes and absolutely refusing to back down. At this time, he finds his feet planted solidly against the floor of the gym and the feel of gravity swells his sense of confidence. "Your old teammate can't do anything - "
" - Shut the fuck up!"
"He can't dribble, he can't run, he has no stamina and his arms aren't coordinated enough to make a simple layup!"
"You - "
"He can't even pass," the Touou player concludes, a sneer on his lips. Aomine crashes a fist two inches away from the other's face. Like any sane human being, the senior flinches - but he does not back down. "What the hell is the captain supposed to tell him? Just sit on the bench and watch us as we save your pathetic, useless - "
The senior whose name he cannot be bothered to remember finds his tirade cut short when Aomine squarely punches him in the jaw with his already-bleeding fist.
"Say that again," Aomine growls, voice low and breaths deep. "Say that again, you bastard," he repeats, raising his fist to aim another point-blank hit. "I - hate - weaklings - !" he hisses, punctuating each word with a well-aimed kick. "You have no idea what the hell he can do - he's from a totally different - "
"Aomine-kun."
The world freezes and the near-unconscious senior forces his eyes to adjust to the light flooding into the gym. He feels his jaw give way when Aomine freezes and then turns to face his classmate - the one that he so desperately wanted to be on the basketball team, even though his arm was still in a sling - cursing under his breath and pulling both closed fists away from his teammate. Aomine seems to be, the senior notes, anxiously attempting to wipe some of the blood off his hands.
"What are you doing?" Kuroko asks, voice as sharp as a blade.
"..."
"Aomine-kun," the diminutive freshman says again, and the senior cannot believe his eyes when Aomine leaves his presence entirely, feet shuffling in an almost embarrassed manner towards his old basketball teammate. "Do you have basketball practice today?" the other asks instead.
"Not really," Aomine swiftly replies before his senior can do the same. "What are you doing holding my bag? Here, lemme carry yours." He slings both their schoolbags over one shoulder, refusing to acknowledge Kuroko's gaze on the basketball club member's crumpled form. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat," he grumbles, holding open the door.
Kuroko purses his lips, wanting to say something - 'I don't know what happened but I am absolutely certain that our senpai did not deserve to be beat like that' or 'The only thing you know how to do when you're angry is hurt people, huh?' - but unable to find the right thing to say. He breaks eye contact with the Touou regular, nodding respectfully before following Aomine out of the gym.
"Aomine-kun," he says at they're at the crossroads between their houses. "Do not do that again." There is an edge of warning in his voice that Aomine instinctively does not want to heed.
"Do what?" the other retorts, picking his ear and feigning ignorance, "The doctor said you shouldn't be carrying heavy things for at least two weeks."
"Your violent tendencies are one thing, but the fact that you make me out to be a child is something else entirely," Kuroko coldly continues - Aomine feels himself incapacitated with a particularly violent glare. "It is bad enough that I cannot play basketball for eight weeks, I can defend my own integrity."
"But - " It was all for you ; you don't hear what people are whispering behind your back ; I'm the reason why you can't play basketball for two freaking months ; why the hell won't you just let me take care of you? - these responses all run their way over the tip of his tongue. He does not say a single one, choosing to bite his tongue and hang his head. "Sorry." It's the first time he's said that word since middle school graduation - it feels just as heavy as it did three months ago.
Kuroko does not accept it, but he doesn't reject it either. He takes his schoolbag from Aomine's outstretched hand, ignoring the way the other hangs on to the strap for a second too long, before turning his back and making his way back home in silence. Aomine watches his retreating figure until he cannot distinguish silhouette from shadow. He raises his once-bleeding hand up, examining the sloppily-tied bandages. He hates it - the irony, the selfishness, the methodology of victory at Touou - but most of all, he hates himself for being the cause of it. Once more, he raises his fist, solidly striking an apartment wall. The searing pain is almost liberating.