YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO FEED ANY OF MY WORK INTO ANY AI GENERATOR OR THE LIKE, EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

"Look," I argued, smacking my hand down on the magazine, "just because these sneakers are more expensive and some pro endorses them does not mean you need to have them, or that you'll even become a better player if you do."

Wakamatsu glared at me, gnawing furiously on the straw of his stupid strawberry milk. "Oi, first year, is that how you talk to your seniors?" He snarled the words out around the sounds of crunching plastic and grinding teeth.

"Oh, right, sorry, let me rephrase," I scoffed. "Wakamatsu-sempai, you're already the most awesome super special coolest basketball player ever. You could play in slippers and I think you'd still win every time, please don't waste your money on this scam, oh great sempai!"

I suppose I deserved it when he grabbed the magazine on the stage between us and used it to swat me over the head several times.

"No fucking respect," he grumbled as he carefully smoothed out the creases he had made on the glossy spread of the very unnecessarily expensive basketball shoes advertisement.

I grinned as he continued to grumble about the sorry state of discipline on the team, about how the whole damn place was going to the dogs, and something about how he was getting wrinkles already or something. "Nah sempai, I mean it. You're pretty good. And the ad seems fake as hell. All you're paying for is the name on them anyway. Just go pro after you graduate and have your own line of merch."

He must have thought I was still trying to give him a hard time though, because he leapt to his feet in one smooth, rage-fuelled motion. "Ah! That's it! Captain, this brat still has too much energy! Make him go do laps or something!"

Captain Imayoshi-sempai had been minding his own business discussing something with his fellow third year, Susa-sempai, but he cut himself off and peered over at Wakamatsu and I, frowning. "I don't know," he said, voice taking on a dangerous singsongy quality that did not bode well for anyone. "You both seem pretty chipper to me. I'd say maybe you could both burn off a little energy. How about some shuttle runs, hm?"

"Ha?" Wakamatsu squawked, apparently not having foreseen this coming back to bite him.

I sighed and pushed myself fully upright, rolling a bit of stiffness out of my shoulder as I did. I might be happy to pester Wakamatsu because his reactions were hilarious, but Imayoshi-sempai was actually scary. Giving him trouble would only be asking for some unknown horror to befall me in a dark alley way or something. "How many? I grouched, not quite managing to keep my tone entirely polite.

His smile was downright diabolical. "How about until I say you can stop?"

I was so screwed.

Wakamatsu started off strong, and I got the impression he was trying to prove a point at me. I don't really know what he was expecting to achieve given he was already leagues ahead of me in terms of physical ability. For one thing, he had a good half foot of height on me, was a year older, and was also on the starting line-up of our team—and that meant something. Tōō took individual ability very seriously and you had to have excellent abilities in order to get acknowledged.

Too bad for him I didn't have it in me to pay him any mind. I didn't actually have as much energy left over from practice as my general demeanour might have implied, and I was feeling the extra drill almost as soon as I got started. Actually that was pretty unsatisfying. My stamina really needed some work. Mentally I mourned the few extra minutes of sleep in the morning that were going to have to be sacrificed for morning runs. Maybe I'd have to go find a decent set of stairs to start running up and down or something. That always took more out of me than just jogging around the gymnasium.

A little while later, both Wakamatsu and I were on the verge of fully perishing. Despite our plaintive gasping and furtive glances, Imayoshi-sempai seemed content to let us die. He'd gone back to talking with Susa-sempai, and although the latter was glancing at us with obvious concern on his face, Imayoshi-sempai's voice was frighteningly cheerful and pointedly oblivious.

I blamed Wakamatsu for this entire situation, and I didn't know how but I was getting retribution.

Most of the team had already gone home. The starting line up tended to stay later, of course, and there were a handful of second years who hadn't quite made the cut lingering about. Maybe they were trying to appeal their hard work to the captain. Or maybe they were lingering because the new manager was also still there, flipping through some papers with a focussed expression on her face. Given the way they were showing off their shooting skills with serious expressions, but red ears that belied their bashfulness, I was inclined to think it was the latter. After all, I didn't think they were blushing over Imayoshi-sempai.

He was too evil, and we all feared him too much.

The only other first year still around was Sakurai, but that was to be expected since his mad shooting skills had earned him a placed on the starting lineup. He was also trying to practice, but I think he was getting worried about Wakamatsu and I because he kept peeking at us with a fretful expression on his face.

There was one other first year who had ended up on the starting line-up, but damned if I'd ever seen him show up to practice. Heck, I wasn't sure I'd even seen him around school, except for the first day. I caught sight of him from a distance, getting told off our manager. My impression of him was that he looked like a grumpy toddler that'd just been woken up from a nap and was one blink away from either throwing a tantrum or toppling over dead asleep again.

That'd not been very long ago though, only a week and a half or so, so maybe he had something going on and was going to show up later.

Or not. People like that were special, and exceptions got made for them.

Just when I was sure my legs were going to collapse and I was going to spend the night on the gym floor because the dorm was too damn far away for me to drag my withered husk back, Imayoshi-sempai glanced over his shoulder at us. "Ah, that's probably enough for now."

Wakamatsu made a break for his water bottle on quivering legs. He staggered across the court floor like he was drunk.

I didn't think I could pick up my feet, so I just stayed where I was, my hands braced on my hips and leaning back to avoid stitches as I worked to even out my breathing.

I peered down my nose at Wakamatsu, plotting my revenge, and I guess his senses were pretty sharp because the glare he fired back at me as he wasted most of his water down over his face would have made the average person piss themselves for fear they were about to get assaulted by a thug.

Maybe if I saw the chance I could lace his water with hot sauce?

It'd have to wait though, I decided as I felt the exhaustion cling on to me like layers and layers of mud cemented around my limbs. I wasn't getting any form of revenge, petty or otherwise until I got some sleep. And maybe food.

On cue my stomach rumbled with aggressive dissatisfaction and quickly placed itself highest on my list of priorities.

"Can I be dismissed," I panted, raising my hand like flag of surrender.

The captain waived his hand at me like a king shooing away a peasant and I briefly had the thought I should add hot sauce to his water too, but goosebumps sprung forth on my arms at the idea, and I swore I could feel the phantom brush of a guillotine's blade at the back of my neck, telling me that to mess with the captain was to dance with the devil.

Oh well. I'd just have to double the dose for Wakamatsu I relented.

"I don't trust that little punk," I heard Wakamatsu complain as I headed for the locker room. "He looks like he's up to no good."

O O O

I was staying in the Tōō dormitory, which had been provided to accommodate the school's system of recruiting individuals from any far flung town or back water area where they could find decent enough talent. It was a pretty neat deal, living right on campus, since it allowed me more time for practice in lieu of a lengthy commute, and also placed me right in the middle of the city. Given that I'd grown up on the outskirts in a place that was pretty rural, it was a nice change.

I especially liked that just wandering around the nearest block I could find a wide array of convenience stores, food trucks, and restaurants.

Which was what I did after making an escape from my demonic captain. I was torn between grabbing some cheap noodles from a convenience store, or opting for something more substantial when a screen blaring a poppy song declared that the near-by McDonald's had a special deal for combos running at the moment and that was all it took to lure me in.

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that this was where I'd finally encounter a person who had been lauded as a prodigy to such a degree it made him sound more like an alien than anything else. We attended the same school, we were in the same grade, and we were even on the same damn team, and I'd barely seen hide or hair of him. But on some random foray for a burger? Of course that's where I'd run into him.

Our team's prodigal ace turned towards me, take-out bag in hand, and expression bland.

I briefly thought about saying something, since that was probably the normal thing to do. I even opened my mouth to begin the greeting. When I noticed his eyes though, I stopped. It was like he didn't even see me. Which could have just meant he was distracted, not paying attention to his surroundings. All the same, I found whatever I'd been about to say dying soundlessly in my throat as I abruptly found myself feeling remarkably insignificant.

"Aomine-kun," I heard from behind me, the voice familiar though marked by an unfamiliar strain of aggravation. "Where have you been?"

"What do you want Satsuki?" My wayward teammate returned with a sigh.

Well they clearly had things to talk about, and I knew an encroaching lecture when I heard one. It was time for me to leave our ace and his counterpart to it and make myself scarce.

"Oh! Okabe-kun, is that you?"

Damn.

I paused staring plaintively at the brilliant menu screens over my head, and inhaled deeply the delectable scent of deep fried foods, and then turned to address the manager of our team, Satsuki Momoi. "Ah, hi, yeah."

She beamed delightfully. "Aomine-kun, you haven't met the full team yet, have you? This is Okabe-kun! He's a first year like us!"

Aomine couldn't have looked any less interested if he had tried. I could practically hear his internal dialogue questioning why on earth that was relevant or why he should give a damn. "Mah," he said by way of greeting, the drawl low and utterly inflectionless.

Wakamatsu would throw an absolute fit if this was how our prized ace acted when addressing his senior. Actually, I really wanted to be there to see it. I'd be willing to pay money to see how bad Wakamatsu's blood pressure would spike.

Maybe I'd even let go of the hot sauce idea.

"Jeez Aomine, do better than that," Momoi-san huffed, hands flying to her hips. I half expected her to stomp her foot in irritation.

Aomine just shrugged and tried to sidle passed her towards the exit.

"Don't worry about it," I soothed, a grin starting to snick its way across my face.

Momoi-san looked at me, something like relief on her face. It quickly started to melt into unease so I guess maybe she also thought I looked like I was up to no good.

"I'm sure Aomine-chan is just feeling a little shy," I continued. "He's missed so many practices, I bet he feels embarrassed about having to introduce himself at this point."

Well, it was pretty childish dig, so I wasn't sure if Aomine would even fall for it. I didn't know much about the guy beyond the monstrous prodigy thing. But I couldn't get the sulky expression I'd seen on his face back on the first day of school out of my head.

But sure enough his ambling steps drew to a halt and he turned to glower at my, chin raised in disdain. "Hah?" He asked, voice caustic. "You got a problem?"

I raised my hands placatingly. "It's okay, we're all waiting for you Aomine-chan. We'll be your friends whenever you're ready!"

Momoi-san looked like she was going to die of mortification. I almost felt bad for her.

For his part, our prized ace just scoffed. "You can talk when you're actually someone worth meeting."

Ouch. My pride. I grimaced, but quickly coated it in a grin. "Oh no Momoi-san, I don't think he's figured out playground etiquette yet. Wakamatsu-sempai isn't going to be impressed."

Apparently Aomine had had enough of this encounter because he just glowered at Momoi-san pointedly and beat a lazy retreat.

She shot me a look as if she wanted to say something. No doubt it would have been reprimanding, but she seemed to decide it wasn't worth the effort at the last second and hurried after Aomine with haste. She called out for him to wait up just as the doors swung shut behind her, leaving me on my own amongst the crowd of other customers who hadn't really paid us any mind despite the encounter taking place in the middle of the store.

I shrugged, rolling a persistent stiffness out of my shoulder again, and made my way to the counter to finally order some damn food for my irate stomach.

While I was waiting for my order to be prepared, my phone dinged.

I flipped it open as I juggled with the soda dispenser and my paper cup, and almost immediately wanted to throw the works of it out a window or something.

"You'd better not be slacking off Hide-kun ᴗ"

I knew who it was without looking, and found whatever humour I'd had despite my disastrous, though amusing, first encounter with the team's ace dissipate like a puff of smoke in the wind.

My soda sloshed out of my cup as I smacked the cup down on the counter and furiously tapped out a reply.

"Yeah I know."

I was just about to snap the phone shut when another message made it ding with irritating promptness.

"( • ᴗ - ) "

"God dammit," I hissed under my breath, but was temporarily distracted when I was called up to collect my order.

It didn't last though, and I stepped out into the late evening air, the wind warm but refreshing on my face, carrying with it the rumble and bustle of the city. I could already feel a prickle of agitation in my fingers. So I unwrapped my burger and ate as I made my way back up to the school. But instead of heading in the direction of the dormitory, I wiped the crumbs and grease off my fingers, tossed the balled trash in the nearest bin and ignored the satisfying swish and thunk of it easily making it passed the rim to head towards the gymnasium.

I could afford to fit another hour of practice in.

O O O

"Oi! What was that?" Wakamatsu belted out, and with all the fervour of an infuriated bear hauled off and hurled a basketball right at my head,

I ducked, feeling a faint brush of the orange rubber against my hair, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Apparently he was still mad about the hot sauce he'd found in his water bottle at the end of morning practice.

"This brat! Did you just dodge?" He shouted, a vein protruding violently from his head.

I really hoped he'd meet our precious ace soon, because I definitely needed someone to take some of the heat, and I had a feeling the oh-so-miraculous Aomine would do a great job at getting under Wakamatsu's skin. "Ey, what? You could have given me brain damage, sempai!" I argued, scurrying backwards away from the irate second year.

"There's something wrong with your head already! Were you even trying to get the rebound? Huh?"

I guess it had looked like pretty pathetic attempt to him, but I had been trying. While this might have only been a light game between members of the teams as we worked on plays, the words from last night's text message were still lingering on my mind. I'd thought I'd been putting in the effort, but maybe to one of our infallible starting members my efforts weren't particularly impressive.

"Ah, it's my fault, I'm sorry Wakamatsu-sempai," my teammate, the ever apologetic Sakurai began to insist, darting forward like a desperate martyr, trying to take the blame with the expression of a kicked puppy.

"Huh?!" Wakamatsu roared, turning on Sakurai like a tornado. Sakurai whimpered and promptly seemed deeply regretful to have come to my defence.

I clapped my hands together behind Wakamatsu's back, showing my gratitude to Sakurai, and then took the opportunity he'd given himself up for to scurry back amongst the other members of my team who afforded me wry smiles and a couple half-hearted claps on the back.

The respite wouldn't last. Wakamatsu had a bone to pick with me after the morning's prank had caused him to spit a whole mouthful of water up all over his clothes. I tried to insist on my innocence, but apparently he wasn't having any of it.

I'd have to be more careful in the future.

We were just about to get back into the game when the doors to the gym rattled, and a hush immediately fell over the team.

Swaggering in as if he owned the place, Aomine glanced around with the same incredibly bored expression on his face, and made his way towards Momoi-san.

For her part, our manager looked just as baffled as most everyone else.

I didn't know about the starting line up of team members who I had to believe had at least met their ace at some point, particularly the captain, but I could imagine this was probably the first time many of the members had seen the absentee member of the Tōō basketball club. I suppose everyone knew who he was, since he and the whole generation of miracles were famous, but it was sure to be a shock all the same.

Even the coach had fallen silent, and was watching the prodigy with a keen sort of stare.

"Satsuki, do you have any change on you?"

The effect was comedic across the board, but I couldn't help the sly glance I snuck at Wakamatsu. He looked like a steam engine about to blow. I had heard him grumble a few times about the number of absences Aomine had been wracking up, but I guess his impatience had been closer to the surface than I'd realized.

"Aomine-kun!" Momoi-san reprimanded, her face twisting up into something that blended between a scowl and a pout. "It's—This is practice!"

"Ah?" He rolled his shoulders. "So?"

"So?" She cried. "So? What do you mean so? You're not even wearing your gym shoes!"

As if pulled by puppet strings, we all looked at the ace's feet, and sure enough he was still wearing his indoor shoes.

"I'm just need money for the vending machine," he said and then, without turning to look at the rest of the room, he cocked his head to the side, just so, and said "I'm not like these losers. This kind of thing isn't even worth my time."

Well damn. That was cool. Kind of cringe, but he said it with such cocky assurance it was cool anyway.

Although Wakamatsu didn't agree. On his side of things there were meteors crashing and volcanoes erupting and dinosaurs dying from his building apoplexy. He seemed to be trying to say something, but couldn't form words with the way his jaw was tensed up with pent-up rage. I could practically hear his teeth cracking from where I stood.

Freaking hilarious.

And then, having pilfered a handful of coins from the stunned Momoi, who looked like she was already exhausted from this encounter, Aomine sauntered back out of the gym as if nothing had happened.

Wakamatsu exploded.

A/N: Look. Look, I don't know how this happened either. I got stressed out about life and other projects, and now I'm coping by writing a goofy school-life/sports fic. With 'seemingly less angst' than my usual. But, you know what? In the words of Kiyoshi, "let's have fun".

YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO FEED ANY OF MY WORK INTO ANY AI GENERATOR OR THE LIKE, EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.