A/N: Yay new chapter! Sorry this took so long to get out. This was actually supposed to be longer, but since it got too long, I chopped off the latter half of this chapter and am moving it to the next one, so the next update will come sooner! Thank you for those who follow this and leave such nice reviews. I'm sorry if that last chapter worried you all hehehe
booklover1209: HAHAHA OOPS sorry 'bout that (also I assure you NIjimura doesn't have the foresight or the right screw loose to make a will yet haha. Not here, at least)
Booklover2526: Aah thank you! That's true, but sometimes incidents like that bring out the nicer side to people ;;
Guest: Thank you! I'm glad you think so! This chapter (and the next) should be something like that!
Jazzmonkey: True, true. Thanks! More Haizaki and Aomine being cute (sort of?) in the next couple of chapters!
Fiammie: OOPS sorry I love leaving little cliffhangers to expound on later haha. You'll see what's on it soon! Thank you so much for always reviewing, really! YOU'RE the best! ︎:) Thank you again for always encouraging me!
Thank you too kuroshiro.19 for reviewing! I won't give a solid answer because spoilers haha
"Once again, congratulations on making the first string."
Under the hood of the first gymnasium, those words echoed, sharp and grounding, brimming with expectation. The coach looked them over seriously, nothing but a dead-set strictness about his gaze, with the banner hung over their heads boldly saying: 'One hundred battles, one hundred victories'.
"From now on you will be training together as the team's vanguard, and I expect you to perform at your best always," he continued. "And to remember our school's motto: 'Ever-Victorious'. Be guided by that, and embody it. Take pride in your position as the leaders of this club, and win."
Each member of the first string gave a resounding agreement, voices sharp and ready, charged with an electricity of purpose and superiority. The coach nodded, regarding the team, and stepped aside.
"And, for the new members especially," he said, looking over the miraculous freshmen additions to the first string. "A few words from your captain."
From the front of the group, a tall, black-haired second year stepped forward, turning to the team with strident eyes and a strong set to his broad shoulders. There was a fire in those steely eyes and a strength in his stance that felt real, and though he was just like them, even younger than the others, something put him apart from the team—something that placed him in front of them as their leader.
"I'm Nijimura," he said, voice firm. "Apart from what coach has said, all I really have to say is: don't forget your first resolution. Always move forward. If you have the time to look back on yesterday, run forward. From now on, we're a team."
With those words, a warm fire was lit, just as blazing as the light in Nijimura's eyes. After a breath, the team gave a loud, resolved assent, and their captain smirked, looking determined and confident. Within the lines, the four freshmen newcomers felt electrified, the looming sight of victory clear in their minds, strong enough they felt they could almost touch it.
Still shorter than most of them, Aomine clenched his fists, teeth gritted in an excited grin, and together with Akashi, Midorima, and Murasakibara, they easily melded into the blaze of Teiko's first string. The four of them shone brightly, their intensity only growing more brilliant and sharper than the rest as time passed. Aomine, in particular, was a force to be reckoned with—his speed and agility were on par with their captain's, and as they went against each other on a three-on-three just a few days before their first practice match, their clash all but halted everyone else's training, their eyes fixated on the play that was levels higher than normal.
The two forwards locked eyes, and the fire in them completely held the attention of the rest of the members, breaths bated in anticipation: the strongest power forward in the middle school level against the formidable first year already being whispered about as a 'miracle'. No one could predict the outcome.
It was only a short moment that they froze where their paths crossed, and then they moved. After a feint, Nijimura spun around in the other direction, but Aomine had changed gears the moment he realized the fake. Loud squeaks screeched against the court floor as they wove through each other's moves, and it was when Aomine brought out a swift hand to steal the ball that Nijimura switched to a lightning-fast pass to his teammate behind him, already halfway into the lane the moment the ball reached his hands, and then went through the hoop in a smooth and precise lay up.
The crowd erupted in cheer, but it was a short-lived exhale of joy: Aomine had reacted fast enough to speed past Nijimura and reach the hoop right as the ball went through, snatching it before it bounced a second time. Another of Nijimura's teammates was already on him in a flash, slowing Aomine down. He skidded, the ball travelling right and left around himself in a flurry akin to streetball play, and in his speed almost immediately got through his opponent's defense.
As he picked up his momentum, Aomine easily sped through the third player of Nijimura's team, but was met with the captain himself, right at the three-point line. Aomine's momentum staggered again, finding little openings in Nijimura's defense. He stepped back in near full speed, and just as quickly veered to one side and launched himself in the air before Nijimura could react.
It was by pure reflex that Nijimura managed to jump in time to block Aomine's shot, and it would have thwarted Aomine's shot if the freshman didn't, at that moment, shift gears and held back on throwing the ball, and instead delaying his shot to the point that his side was almost parallel to the ground. All he could see was the corner of the backboard from over Nijimura's shoulder, but it seemed to be enough: Aomine gave a growl, flinging the ball diagonally up near Nijimura's side, away from his blocking arm, and with one hit to the backboard, the basketball went through the hoop.
Aomine landed on the ground with a thud, side first, and gave a yelp of both surprise and pain. The onlookers stared, amazed and confused all the same, slowly processing what had just happened—what looked to be a lane up turned into an unbelievable formless shot from a falling position, and that was after Aomine had gone past three opponents with pure speed, agility, and eclectic ball-handling. After a beat, everyone seemed to breathe out cheers of awe and disbelief, some clapping, some still bewildered, and the scorer took a moment before announcing: "It's a draw!"
"Ow ow ow," Aomine groaned, rolling around on the ground. He had landed on his shoulder and back, and felt his shoulder blades and lower body hit the ground hard. The adrenaline flowing through his veins dulled what he knew was going to hurt later, but the exhilaration pulsing through him was probably going to overpower all that, he was sure.
"Oi, you okay?"
Wincing, Aomine turned to look up, finding Nijimura crouching beside him, sweating and panting lightly. Aomine stared for a moment, amazed that Nijimura was still full of stamina and energy, while Aomine was panting hard and really needed some water. Without really thinking, he grinned, feeling a new kind of excitement and wonder start to boil in him: their captain was strong, and apart from other mixed feelings of rivalry and admiration, Aomine knew that he wanted to play basketball with him.
"Is your side okay?" Nijimura asked, squinting at where Aomine had landed.
"I'm good," he smirked, rolling to his side. Nijimura gave a huff, standing up, and stuck a hand out to Aomine, who blinked once before gingerly taking it. His captain pulled him up, and the strength of it almost sent Aomine tumbling forward, and again Aomine felt a jolt of energy fuel his drive. He felt Nijimura's hand grip his in a firm hold, giving it a single, fervid shake, strong and determined. Aomine blinked at it, looking up at his captain with bright eyes.
"That was a good match," Nijimura told him, smiling a small, proud smirk. "You're getting better each day."
Aomine's eyes widened a little, and a smile tugged at his lips, feeling a confidence make his hold on Nijimura's hand tighter before he let go. Aomine gave a small nod, a sheepish grin spreading out across his features as he started to feel the throbbing of his side, when a sudden thundering chop hit him upside the head with a force that rang through his skull and sent him reeling down with a cry.
"Yeow!" he yelped, hands flying to the top of his head on reflex.
"But you've still got a long way to go, brat," Nijimura spat, the hand he used to karate chop Aomine's head still hovering in the air. "Did you forget what a 'pass' was? You were only able to take back that point after I passed it to Suzuki. You had too much close calls during your drive where you could have passed to your teammates instead of risk getting the ball stolen."
Aomine grimaced, feeling his side and his head throb. The others looked both amused and sorry for him, and they all got into their own training as Nijimura told him off.
"That last shot too," Nijimura stated, and Aomine winced, knowing that that shot was something that just…happened, and he didn't know how he would explain that. For that one shot at least, he knew it was too spontaneous, too risky, and he didn't even know exactly how he did it. His streetball habits always had the tendency to resurface when he was against a strong opponent, but that kind of dicey play wasn't consistent, and might confuse teammates more than reassure them. It made passing awkward, especially across a web of opponents—if only passes could curve, Aomine thought.
"It was risky, but I've never seen something like that before," Nijimura continued. "It was a good shot."
Aomine jerked up to look at Nijimura, who was honest and serious as he spoke to Aomine. "I can see that it was something you came up with on the spot, but it feels like your style," a smirk tugged at Nijimura's lips again. "Along with your speed and your streetball skills, you should develop that formless, free-flowing style you've got going on. You're gonna be one hell of a basketball player, I'm sure."
Nijimura stuck out his hand and ruffled Aomine's hair as the freshman gaped, wide-eyed, and felt his grin start to creep back. "Got it," Aomine said, straightening up. He winced slightly as he felt his side protest, and Nijimura gave another fluff on his head before pushing him lightly.
"We'll have a short break in a bit," he told him. "Get your side checked for bruises. Try to figure out a way to not collide with the ground every time you try that kind of shot."
Aomine scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly as he nodded. He almost expected Nijimura to get annoyed at being overtaken like that, with risky moves and little teamwork—Aomine had had enough dealings with sore losers in the past—but instead Nijimura encouraged him, and didn't even look the least bit sour about almost getting beaten. The respect Aomine had for Nijimura only grew, and he felt like the first time he had entered the first string: like a fire was lit in him all over again, energizing his body and making him hell-bent on playing some more.
Nijimura smiled. "You really love basketball, huh?"
Aomine blinked. "What?"
"It's all over your face," Nijimura sighed. "You look like a kid about to open Christmas presents."
"Ehh?" Aomine drawled, but he couldn't smother the grin from his face. "Well, yeah. I love basketball. I want to play some more."
Nijimura smirked, already turning to announce a break to the team. "Don't forget that."
Aomine stared after him, nodding. "Can we have another match? Please?"
Nijimura flicked his forehead, and it was so sudden with a force that made Aomine jerk back. "Gah!"
"I said get your side checked," Nijimura snapped. "Also your stamina sucks. That's another thing you should work on."
Aomine pouted. Sure, he was panting heavily after the first hours of training plus the match, but he was someone who had quite a bit of stamina already. Just not as much as Nijimura, Aomine thought grudgingly: their captain had way too much endurance.
All of a sudden, a glistening sports drink came flying at him, and Aomine barely caught it in time, fumbling with it as he stared, surprised.
"Drink that, and take a break," Nijimura told him, grabbing a towel from the nearby bench. "We can play again any time."
Aomine's face lit up, and he was half pummeled again for launching himself all over the place while ignoring the whole idea of a break and bouncing around trying to get to play again. The others sighed in his wake, but smiled, Aomine's excitement and drive motivating, his laughter infectious. And despite the pain from getting smacked upside the head and crashing into the ground, the hand that ruffled his head didn't feel like a senior's. Aomine was an only child, but he felt that the warmth in those big palms encouraging him was just like a brother's.
"…omine. Aomine."
"Nuh?" Aomine grumbled, forcing his eyelids open in a squint. He vaguely registered that he was seated, head slumped over a soft ledge, and that something was nudging his side. "Wha…?"
He turned his head to find a pair of glasses staring down at him. "Oi," Midorima spoke, trying to push Aomine up from where he was leaning. "Can you still feel your arm? You look like you're crushing it."
Aomine grunted, heaving himself up and jerking at the sudden feeling of numbness at his side. The pins and needles started prickling under his skin when he managed to sit up. "Nngh," he garbled, curling up again and dropping his forehead on the ledge—a mattress—trying to get the feeling back in his arm.
"That's what you get for just flopping asleep like that," Midorima sighed, nudging Aomine's side again. "Sit up, it'll help more."
Aomine grudgingly straightened up, twitching at the prickling at his arms. Midorima prodded at his chair, meaning to pass behind him. "Move over a little," he said, and Aomine gave a grunt, dragging his chair forward with his good arm. Midorima squeezed through the space and placed a some small item on a side table, rearranging the other items beside it and picking up the glass of water sitting in the corner. "Stetch your neck on each side," he suggested, going back behind Aomine and walking towards the sink. "It'll loosen up the bundle you got your nerves into and get rid of the prickling."
Aomine tried just that, feeling how stiff his neck had become as well. In moments, the pins and needles on his arm eased, and he rolled his shoulders, exhaling against a groggy tiredness that he was trying to shake off.
"Huh. It worked," he remarked, blinking his weary eyes awake.
"Of course it did," came Midorima's reply. He returned with a refilled pitcher of water which he set on the table opposite Aomine's side, and it was then that Aomine stretched his long arms and back, reclining against his chair. He felt something shift behind his back, and when he reached for it, found that a jacket had been put atop it. He took a look at it and raised an eyebrow—that wasn't his jacket. Aomine thought hard about it while he folded it over his lap, and just then registered where he was when he saw the white of the hospital bed's sheets, and Nijimura under them. Aomine was brought short by it, and a solemn expression passed his features as he looked at his former-captain, still asleep and unmoving on the bed, save for the thankfully steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The night before, the last thing he'd seen before leaving the hospital was Nijimura being wheeled off into an operating room, and the sounds of rushed speaking and erratic beeping still seemed to ring in his ears upon remembering what went on. He didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't tried to shake Nijimura awake, like he'd done a couple of times already, and if he hadn't felt that knot form in his stomach when he wouldn't stir. The past few times, it didn't take that much to wake Nijimura up, and without thinking, he'd called Satsuki and Akashi afterward. It seemed to have been the right call, since some of the best doctors had come rushing in after the nurses, and Aomine could only step back and watch as they bustled around the bed.
When Nijimura shifted, Aomine had instinctively jerked forward, and in between the nurses and doctors, he saw Nijimura's face twisted in pain, eyes screwed shut still; a quiet, strangled moan barely flitting through his gritted teeth. His fists were clenched around the sheets of the bed so tightly, his fingertips were pale, and the web of creases his grip had formed on the cloth were quakes and shocks of struggle radiating against the white. Something heavy sank in Aomine's gut, and he forced himself to swallow, unable to move, his heart hammering in his chest as he felt useless.
"Nijimura-kun, Nijimura-kun, where does it hurt?" a doctor had spoken, leaning towards Nijimura with steady hands around his wrist, the one with an IV drip that was steadily feeding something a nurse had injected. "Please don't tense up."
Nijimura's eyes flickered briefly, his breaths strangled and tattered, his head jerked to one side, body crumpling slightly, and the doctor had gradually smoothened open Nijimura's fingers, which trembled as he struggled to relax. Barely, just barely, Nijimura's eyes cracked open, still furrowed in a wince, yet as if he was searching for something amidst the pain. He opened his mouth, saying something, but it was a breath, weaker than a whisper.
"What is it?" the doctor asked, leaning closer to hear. "Can you tell me where you're feeling pain?"
"Ao—mine…" Nijimura tried, louder.
Aomine snapped his head to look at Nijimura, eyes wide in surprise and bewilderment—he said his name?
"…I'm here, I'm awake," Nijimura mumbled, curling into his side some more. His hands tensed up again, and the doctors followed his movements, watching carefully.
"W-what?" Aomine managed to stutter, stepping forward.
"Are you there? Sorry—I'm awake…" Nijimura's eyes wrinkled shut as he'd sucked in a breath, knuckles going white from the tension.
"I—what?" Aomine couldn't focus on understanding. "Why are you apologizing?"
"You tried to wake him up earlier, right?" a nurse told him, putting a shand on his shoulder to calm him. "I think Nijimura-kun's apologizing for worrying you when he didn't wake up."
Aomine blinked, and felt something bubble up inside him, realizing that what the nurse said was probably true. "Goddammit," he gritted. "Worry about yourself, you idiot."
"Aomine-kun, was it?" the doctor by the bed spoke, turning to him. "Can you talk to him? We need to be sure of his condition."
"R-right,"Aomine stumbled, falling on a knee by the side of the bed. He glanced at Nijimura, who was practically on his side, and observed how his hands were clenched. "Oi, is your side okay?"
The doctors moved, surveying Nijimura's position and watching his movements, alert. "Where does it hurt?" Aomine tried.
Nijimura was clearly putting in a lot of effort to even out his breathing, the lines on his face smoothening out just a little, though his forehead was still creased. There was clear concentration in his closed eyes, and he'd started to relax his stiff body when he'd deliberately moved a hand to his lower right side, his whole hand trembling in an effort to stay relaxed. The doctors nodded at each other, swallowing, and Nijimura gave a gulp of his own as he'd rolled to lie on his back, neck tense as he obviously tried to fight the pain. A hand remained pressed on his right side, and he evened out his breathing into steadier breaths. His exhales came out in a few huffs before the furrow in his brows smoothened out just slightly, and his head slumped to one side as he slipped out of consciousness again.
Aomine swallowed, not quite processing what the doctors were concluding around the bed as they hurried the nurses to wheel him out. Aomine was pulled up by a nearby nurse, and she had gently moved him away from the bustling, which was all fine and well until they'd started pulling the bed out. Aomine followed without hesitation, just in time to run into Murasakibara, Akashi, Midorima, and Takao. The doctors spoke to Akashi as they wheeled Nijimura through the halls, and Midorima was talking to Takao, looking both worried and apologetic. Takao relieved Midorima of some kind of plastic bag filled with clinking items, and gave Midorima a small, knowing smile, which eased off some of the worry edged in his features. Takao didn't follow, giving a serious nod as they passed, dangling a small keychain in one finger, which Aomine vaguely registered was a basketball.
Everything went by in a flurry, and the one doctor and nurse had thanked Aomine for his help before they entered the operating room. Aomine could only really think of how he was practically useless and lost, but he latched onto the bit of gratitude that he was given for at least having been able to do something. He knew he couldn't help it, so he sucked it up and gave a sigh, finding it more productive to get off his butt that night to help in whatever way he could.
"Ah!" Aomine exclaimed, staring at the jacket in his hands. "This is Kise's." He looked around the room, spotting only Midorima rearranging things by the bed. "Where is he?"
Midorima raised an eyebrow. "He wasn't here when I arrived. Although now that you mention it," he looked about, squinting at the other chair across Aomine. "He stayed over, right?"
"Yeah," Aomine furrowed his brows, standing up and stretching his legs.
"Maybe he went home?" Midorima tried, sitting down. "…no, seems unlikely he'll just leave."
"Yeah, without his jacket too," Aomine agreed, noticing how Midorima had updated Nijimura's lucky item for the day, and how there were snacks by the other table undoubtedly left there by Murasakibara.
"Ahh!" Aomine blurt out, a thought dawning on him. "I think I know where that idiot is."
"What idiot?"
"Ki—" Aomine almost jumped, feeling a wave of nostalgia hit him with the shuddering surprise of Kuroko's sudden appearance. "Kise. I was talking about Kise. Yo, Tetsu."
At the doorway, Kuroko approached, holding a vanilla shake in one hand and a blank expression. He glanced at Nijimura, and Aomine noticed a very subtle shift—even after all this time, Aomine could tell the little changes in Kuroko's expressions, and he felt a little proud of that, still.
Midorima adjusted his glasses, having just retreated to the edge of his seat from the jump scare he got at Kuroko's arrival. "You should knock."
"I did though," Kuroko said, giving his shake a slurp. He looked at Aomine. "Isn't that Kise-kun's?"
Aomine raised an eyebrow, shaking the back of his neck and glancing at the jacket in his hands. "Yeah, he left it."
"Where is he…?" Kuroko started, but trailed off, eyebrows furrowing just slightly as a realization hit him. "You don't think…"
"Yeah, I thik so." Aomine huffed, pulling on his jacket. "He's out being stupid."
It was still ealry in the morning when the sun was was obscured by some looming clouds, and still pretty early in the day for Kise to get pummeled upside his head—although considering where he was, it was probably not that out of place.
"Yeow!" Kise yelped, hands flying to the top of his head, which had just received a thuddering chop. He winced, turning to his attacker and finding Aomine. "Aominecchi!"
"Yo," Aomine grunted, flinging Kise's jacket at the model's face. "You left this, idiot-Kise."
"It's too early in the day for this much karate chops to the head, dammit!" Kise wailed, fumbling around with his jacket while one hand rubbed his head.
"That's what you get for going to a karate dojo, you moron," Aomine snapped, gritting his teeth as he looked Kise over, wearing the bottom of a karate uniform and his own shirt. "And what do you mean 'this much'? Did someone else smack you in the head before me? I gotta thank that guy."
Kise pouted, grumbling, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder with a glare. "That guy, you mean." Aomine raised an eyebrow and inclined his head, finding Haizaki standing at the other end of the dojo, wearing the white karate uniform pants and a black top. He was speaking to a couple of instructors and glancing at the students gathered in groups around the dojo. Aomine's eyes widened, not quite processing how Haizaki was there, when the guy in question noticed him and flinched.
"Daiki," he greeted, eyebrows pinched as he glanced at Kise rubbing at his head. "Did you smack his head too?"
"You bet I did," Aomine replied, still glaring at Kise. He was pretty proud that he'd correctly guessed where Kise would be, but the amount of annoyed that he got when he saw Kise doing some karate moves alongside another instructor overpowered it all and sent his chop crashing down on Kise's head. "Looks like you got to him first."
"I figured the damn idiot would pull something like this," Haizaki groaned, looking like he wanted to punch Kise again.
"Looks like you were thinking along the same lines though."
"Huh?!" Haizaki growled, and then almost jumped, reeling back in a jerk. "Fuck—goddammit Kuroko!"
"What," Kuroko simply said, giving his vanilla shake a slurp.
Kise shuddered, having just narrowly stopped himself from jumping in surprise. "Hey, Kurokocchi."
Kuroko nodded at them. "Good morning. You're filling up for Nijimura-san?"
"Yeah," Kise answered. "I realized just this morning that we never did get to decide on how to deal with senpai's job here, so I went ahead and studied karate a bit to help out."
Kuroko raised an eyebrow at him, almost exasperated. "Right. Didn't Akashi-kun tell you not to be stubborn?"
Kise grimaced. He'd gotten a pretty good rest the night before, but true enough, he still had a faint flush to his cheeks and a heavy tiredness weighing him down.
Aomine pressed a hand over his forehead, and after a moment, flicked it, making Kise yelp again. "Gah!"
"Your temperature's still high," Aomine spoke. "That fever of yours probably hasn't gone down yet, and now you're being stupid."
"Damn right," Haizaki grunted, pulling up his sleeves. "Which is why I'm here."
"Do you know karate, Haizaki-kun?" Kuroko asked, something soft in his eyes.
"I used to take karate before," Haizaki answered absent-mindedly. He then realized what he was saying and doing, and saw Kuroko's small smile and both Aomine and Kise's suspicious looks. "Wh-what?! I have nothing else to do so I figured, what the hell. I know one of the instructors here anyway. And some of the brats. What?!"
A devilish smirk played at Aomine's lips. "Ehh, so you can be a decent human being, Haizaki."
Haizaki felt a nerve pop up. "Fuck you."
Aomine snickered, and beside him, Kuroko smiled. Kise squinted at Haizaki with an amused face, and before they could say anything else, someone called out to Haizaki and Kise—it was one of the head instructors. It looked like they just had a break, and were calling back the two of them. They were discussing something, and for a moment Kise stepped back as two instructors demonstrated a kind of double kick that involved spinning around and hitting two kicking pads consecutively. Haizaki was waving his hand, looking like he was bored and understood, and the others turned to Kise, who looked thoughtful. He said something to the instructors that had them raising the two kicking pads up, and after a beat, Kise launched himself in a mimic of the exact same moves just previously demonstrated, getting the instructors to grin and nod in approval. Kise flashed his own sparkling grin, which was broken by another solid chop to the head from Haizaki, to which Aomine approved of.
"I'm not used to seeing them getting along," Kuroko commented, a small smile on his face.
"That doesn't look like getting along," Aomine huffed, leaning back. "Looks like a couple of idiots to me." He gave a sigh, not quite into the quip he'd absently said, looking distracted.
"Are you okay?" Kuroko asked him, leaning forward and peeking up at Aomine.
"Hm?" Aomine looked at Kuroko, getting met with those big round eyes and overly observant gaze. He almost flinched, avoiding Kuroko's eyes. "…Yeah. I'm fine."
"Is that so."
Aoomine swallowed, remembering the one time Kuroko had told him that he'd observed how Aomine would avert his eyes when he was lying. Aomine sighed. Things might have changed since that time, all those years ago, but he in many ways, he was still the same. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's weird."
Kuroko's expression softened, feeling warmed by Aomine opening up, even just a little. He leaned back beside him, looking at Kise and Haizaki bickering as they approached. "This might be a bit weird to say, but it's nice that we get to spend time like this. All of us. Just not for the best of reasons though."
Aomine gave him a sidelong glance, eyes widening, and felt a smirk tug at his lips. "I guess."
Kise had barely managed to escape Haizaki's beating when they reached their side of the dojo, a group of worried-looking kids following closeby. They lined up in front of the two copycats and looked on with concern.
One of them spoke up. "Where's Nijimura-san?"
"Is he okay?" Another one said.
"I heard he's sick."
"Shut up," Haizaki snapped, irritated.
Kise pushed his face away. "Nijimura-senpai's fine. He just needs some rest. We're here to fill in for him in the meantime."
"You mean just me," Haizaki spat.
"I got here first."
"Are you children?" Aomine grumbled, and beside him, Kuroko was shaking his head.
"Whatever!" Haizaki groaned, hands shooting up in defeat. "You guys have a demo and competition coming soon, so you gotta be ready by the time Nijimura gets back."
"That's right!" Kise perked up. "You wanna make him proud, don't you?"
The students answered a resounding 'yes!' immediately, as if it were only natural that they would. Aomine smirked, thinking about how it would just innately happen that anyone Nijimura taught or lead would do their best and follow him. Haizaki and Kise fell into the swing of guiding the students, and before Kise could do any actual karate, Haizaki grabbed his collar and hauled him to the side, close to Aomine, where he could be watched.
"Stop being a dumbass and leave the actual doing to me, dumbass," Haizaki barked, still glaring daggers at Kise, despite how he was looking out for him.
"You said dumbass twice!" Kise whined, irritated.
"Well good thing you heard me over the sound of all that snot clogging your head!"
"That's it," Aomine announced, heaving himself up. "No use moping around watching these two idiots argue like dumbasses." He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it by the bench beside Kuroko. "Might as well do what I can."
Kuroko blinked after him, feeling in his gut that things were not going to go well.
[tbc]
A/N: Like I mentioned, the next chapter were actually parts of this chapter that were moved to the next because of getting too long, so an update will come soon-ish! Thanks always to those who read this and review and fav and follow! You all keep me going ︎;3;