Chapter Text
There’s a new world somewhere they call the promised land,
and I’ll be there someday if you could hold my hand.
I still need you there beside me no matter what I do,
for I know I’ll never find another you—
. . .
So, he and Kagami have actually gotten to be pretty good friends.
If you’d told Aomine that even a year ago, he would’ve told you to quit huffing paint. That guy was never gonna’ stand up to him, let alone earn enough of his respect that he’d ever be his friend. But looking back, it seemed stupid that he hadn’t recognized Kagami on sight. The true rival he’d waited for.
It started last summer.
Most people knew about how Aomine had changed as he’d gone through middle school, a nice kid who’d grown into an arrogant jerk; a monster on the court, just as unbearable off of it. He’d become a person who was really hard to like or even understand, too far ahead of his peers to enjoy the game anymore. Those closer to him knew that he’d been in a really dark place, and that his laziness and bad temper were the product of a talent and passion left to stagnate. That’s when he’d met Kagami.
It changed after that. Not right away, of course, because Kagami hadn’t managed to beat him for a while and all Aomine had gotten were little glimpses that stirred his achy heart.
But then the Winter Cup happened. Once Kagami beat him for the first time it was like waking up out of a dream, and after that, everything started to get better. Basketball was fun again. His old dream of going pro was revived. Ever since he ran into this guy, life seemed worth living, basketball was worth playing.
It’s like Tetsu said — it’s like he’s finally seen the light. Or some shit like that.
They’ve been hanging out a lot this year. I mean, how can they not? Aomine’s gone so long without a challenge that he can’t help but try to hit Kagami up for a match any time he can.
Why shouldn’t he. Kagami’s the best.
In any case, they’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately. Kagami’s been playing ball with him and has let him sleep over at his house. He’s even invited him over just to visit without it having to do with basketball, so you could say they’re getting pretty tight. Basically, Aomine’s loving his life right now.
A typical afternoon on the court ends with Kagami bringing him back to his place for some dinner, homemade and everything. He even keeps his sports magazines out on the shelf in the living room for Aomine to read while he cooks.
“How come you always lemme’ come over?” Aomine had wondered once, just after Kagami had invited him back yet again for some food after a long day of one-on-one.
“Inviting your friends over to your place,” Kagami sighed as he twisted at the waist to crack his back and then stooped for his duffle bag. “It’s normal in America.”
“Hmm.” He supposes that means they're friends then. Aomine picked around in his ear and trailed after Kagami as he opened the gate to the court and headed down the sidewalk towards his apartment. “Not so much here. My mom makes a big deal about having company over.”
Kagami looked up with a raised eyebrow and half a grimace on his face. “Is that why people always act surprised?”
“Maybe, I dunno.” Aomine shrugs and thought on it in silence. “It’s probably ‘cuz you live alone at our age.” Kagami snorted, smiling. “It’s pretty baller that you’ve got a place to yourself already.” Kagami shrugs.
“I mean. It’s alright.” He bumped Aomine with his shoulder then, teasing, “In any case you don’t seem to care much about intruding.”
Aomine smirks. “You make it too easy.”
“Fuckin' freeloader,” Kagami grumbles, but time after time, he never kicks him out or tells him to just go home.
They’d basically spent all of last summer together and Aomine feels better than he has in years. It’s not just having a rival, really. He genuinely just feels… happier, day to day.
Okay, the basketball part is pretty awesome too. That feeling in his heart he gets after pushing himself to the limit to stay just that little bit ahead of Kagami. Racing past him and keeping the ball out of reach but having to struggle to do it, having to fight to win, seeing the blaze of passion in Kagami’s eyes, that tireless drive to defeat him— The thing that takes him into the zone effortlessly after having to force it for ages. The rival he’s searched for, the one he’d waited so long for that he’d given up on finding him.
Is this what happiness is like? The feeling he gets in his heart—
Joy.
It’s gone on like that for months now, and Aomine’s content with the routine. Wake up and go to school. If there’s basketball practice, maybe go to that. Visit Kagami afterwards on the street courts and play for a few hours. Go to Kagami’s place and eat some dinner, watch TV, fuck around, and then go to sleep. He could do it a million times and not ask for a change. Nothing’s ever gonna’ be boring again, because he doesn’t have to wait anymore. He’s found what he’s looked for, and now all that’s left is to get to the NBA together. Life’s complete.
Things start to change late spring of that year.
He doesn’t know exactly when things started being different, because at first he was slow to pick up on it. Other than this thing that instinctively tells him something’s off, he can pretty much ignore it, so that’s what he does.
When he goes to meet Kagami on the court, it’s not out of the ordinary to find him already there with some other guys. Which, whatever, he can’t blame Kagami for playing with whoever’s hanging out on the court while he waits for Aomine to show up. He does it too sometimes. Over the course of the past couple weeks though, the court that’s usually all but abandoned is packed and Kagami’s there completely immersed in scrimmage matches.
It’s not a big deal, because Kagami’ll lose interest in whatever he’s doing the second Aomine gets there to chase the small-frys off the court. He’s told Aomine that he’s going to get into fights if he’s not careful about who he calls small-fry, but hell if Aomine cares.
On days like those, Aomine recognizes most of Kagami’s teammates, and Tetsu of course, and he knows most of the guys who aren’t in basketball club but still come around looking to play. But there’s this other guy there that he’s never seen before. At least, he doesn’t think he has.
Other than the vague knowledge that he’s out of place, Aomine doesn’t pay much attention at first, because who knows who that guy is — he obviously hadn’t been worth remembering. But he just keeps popping up, and each time Aomine sees him, he frowns a little more when he notices he’s there again. He really starts wondering about him.
Especially after he’s texted Kagami for a game and gotten told he was busy that day and then seen him later in passing at the mall or out for a run and New Guy is with him.
Other than being a little annoyed that Kagami’s hanging out with this schmoe instead of him, he doesn’t think about it that much. Really.
“Hey,” Aomine mumbles, standing outside of Maji with Tetsu, glaring through the window at Kagami and Mystery Guy eating burgers in there together. “Who is that guy?”
He hasn’t taken a good look at him before now, really. The guy’s tanned to a light brown, dark-haired and dark-eyed. He’s tall too, maybe a little shy of Kagami, but with the same muscular build. He’s got a forgettable face, and a mid-length haircut.
“Kagami-kun’s friend,” Tetsu replied succinctly, sticking his vanilla shake straw back in his mouth.
Kagami’s got his mouth crammed with food as usual, but his attention is on whatever story this guy is telling, because he’s nodding and trying to smile occasionally even though his face is stuffed.
Aomine hummed, narrowing his eyes. “... He play ball?” he muttered.
Standing next to him and observing them in silence, at length, Tetsu removes the straw and says, “I don’t think so.”
“Puh,” Aomine spat derisively, straightening up and walking off with his hands in his pockets and his chin in the air. He’d figured.
Except, he’s starting to show up on the court — when he and Kagami are playing basketball.
It’s not that big a deal of course, because it’s not like Kagami can pay attention to anything but the game once they get going, but it’s still throwing Aomine off, knowing that guy’s over there on the sidelines. It’s supposed to be just the two of them, they don’t need an extra tagging along and interrupting.
“Hey,” Aomine jeers, dribbling the ball behind his right leg to keep Kagami from reaching for it. “Is he just gonna’ sit and watch the whole time?” he teases.
He tries to snap the ball past Kagami and break for the hoop, but Kagami manages to brush the ball with the tips of his fingers and knock it out of his grip, snatching it away. Aomine gave a wild grin as Kagami whipped around him.
“He can’t keep up with us,” Kagami panted, jumping and shooting. Aomine leapt in the air and slapped it off course at the last second.
“Fuckin’ obviously,” he laughed, even though he knows New Guy can hear them. He decides to pick on him a little, to show him his place — because he thinks he’s annoying and he butts in on their basketball time. Maybe then he’ll stay in his corner and only hang out with Kagami at Maji’s and leave the real fun to Aomine.
“Guess those muscles are just for show, huh,” Aomine sneers, but Kagami doesn’t laugh.
He gets another possession and makes a dunk — and the guy has the nerve to perk up and look excited, calling some encouragement to Kagami, who grins widely. Like he'd meant to show off for him or something. Aomine snorts through his nose and doesn’t let Kagami get another basket for the rest of the afternoon.
“Let’s watch the game tonight.”
“Ah, actually, I already have plans.” Aomine doubletakes. “Sorry,” Kagami adds, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. “See you later!” And then he waves and just walks off and New Guy follows him, like Aomine always does when he’s heading to Kagami’s house after a game. He narrows his eyes and watches them go, open-mouthed and indignant.
That’s when he really starts to get irritated.
He doesn’t see Kagami for the rest of that week, and by Saturday he’s just about had it. He and Kagami’ll play on and off whenever they can, but Saturday is like their official day to play ball and wander around and just hang out, so when Aomine shows up at the court for their match and sees that New Guy is there again, he’s put in a bad mood right off the bat.
What’s worse is that Kagami and New Guy are playing. It’s pitiful.
Kagami’s going really easy on him. No — easy isn’t even the right word for it. Kagami can’t even really have a match against the guy, because even going easy on him would still be too much. Kagami’s trying his best to play with him, but the guy obviously just can’t keep up. It’s not even that he’s unathletic, because Aomine can concede that the guy isn’t scrawny. He just can’t play. He doesn’t know how.
The really weird thing is that Kagami doesn’t look bored or annoyed.
They look like they’re having fun, even though it’s fucking pathetic watching this guy even try to dribble. He’s so uncoordinated it’s just sad, but he’s putting up an honest effort at least. Kagami’s chattering away — Aomine’s too far to hear what he’s saying, but the enthusiastic hum of his voice travels to him across the court. He’s talking about basketball probably, maybe trying to teach the guy some pointers. An entirely wasted effort, in his opinion.
Aomine watches as New Guy shoots. Kagami lets him take the shot, doesn’t even trying to block him. They both watch as the ball sails up and hits the backboard, falling to the side without even skimming the hoop.
Kagami picks the ball up and moves to stand next to him. He demonstrates how to roll his wrist to make the ball spin straight. He shows the spring action of the leg, how to palm the ball, when to throw the ball as you jump, and then he shoots. It goes in on the first try and bounces back towards them on the pavement.
New Guy picks it up and tries again and the ball misses by a mile, and they laugh.
“Kagami!” Aomine calls.
He’s used to Kagami’s face lighting up in excitement when he shows up, because all he cares about is playing one-on-one with him — but instead, today his smile kind of fades when he straightens up and looks towards him.
Aomine opens the door in the wire fence enclosure, letting it rattle behind him as it shuts. Kagami says bye to the guy, who waves back, but Aomine pays no attention, staring at Kagami with his eyes narrowed.
He keeps squinting at that guy’s retreating back in suspicion as Kagami goes to stretch, keeping the ball still under his foot as he gets ready to play. Kagami finally looks up and gives a little start to find him glaring at him so intensely. “...?”
“Who is that.” Aomine stares him in both eyes, trying to figure him out. Kagami gives him a weird look and then goes back to stretching. “Why are you two all buddy-buddy all of a sudden,” he accuses.
Kagami shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”
A nerve pops in his forehead, because who said it was, but if Kagami’s gonna’ act nonchalant about it, it’s not like he can get heated. He doesn’t want him to get the idea he cares that much or something. So this is the game they’re playing, huh?
“This guy fucking sucks,” he jeers, shedding his jacket. “Did you see him fumble earlier?”
Kagami still doesn’t laugh, which makes Aomine’s cocky grin turn into a scowl again.
Kagami snorts and shakes his head minutely, rolling his eyes like Aomine doesn’t know what he’s talking about or something. “Whatever Aomine, quit bein’ an asshole.” He doesn’t raise his voice, as if even a hothead like him wouldn’t bother getting upset over it. Like Aomine’s the one who’s getting worked up over nothing — yeah right!
“That wasn’t your idea of a warm-up, was it?” Aomine says with a nasty grin, brow coming down heavily. Kagami still doesn’t rise to it.
“Not everyone in the world is good at basketball,” he says, like Aomine’s an idiot, and Aomine just has to stare at him for a second in utter bewilderment.
Because— ‘Everyone in our world is.’
But then, Kagami’d never gone through the dark times that he had. Kagami hasn’t had to wait, had only needed him once they’d met, he hadn’t waited for him until he’d given up. He hadn’t gotten so beaten down that he’d started to hate basketball.
The game was Aomine’s whole world and it’s always been that way. He thought it was the same for Kagami too. That’s why they got each other. ‘But then, you don’t know what losing that is like.’
“I know,” Aomine hums. “Doesn’t mean you have to entertain ‘em.”
Kagami doesn’t respond. He just keeps stretching, expression mild, and Aomine can’t tell if Kagami knows he’s trying to goad him and is just that good at bullshitting or not. He can’t tell if he’s pretending not to care or if he actually doesn’t care, but it’s driving him a little nuts.
“Man, I think even seeing that set me off my game.” He cracks his neck to the left, and Kagami finally looks a little irritated, the side of his nose pinching in a sneer as his lip lifted up minutely.
Aomine gives a satisfied smile, and then rushes him for the ball.
They play for about an hour, enough to get his blood racing. They’re running around, jumping to block each other and making wild attempts at shooting past the other’s defense. Kagami’s laughing. Aomine’s grinning so much his face aches. They’re both heaving for breath and slick with sweat by the time Aomine beats him— ‘There!’ he thinks triumphantly, maybe a little smug. ‘See that?!’
He always wins.
Well, almost always. But Aomine doesn’t mind always winning. Not like he used to. Because it’s not a certainty anymore. Kagami can beat him if their teams are facing off, but in a one-on-one, Aomine’s still a step ahead. But it doesn’t matter, because his rival is here, and Aomine never has to watch the dead-eyed stare of defeat come over Kagami’s face, not the way he did in middle school. Because Kagami will never say ‘what’s the point?’ no matter how many times Aomine beats him. He’ll take Aomine on anytime. He’ll always go again. That’s what a rival does.
Aomine feels a little self-righteous about his win today, maybe because he wanted to remind Kagami that nobody can do it like him. He can’t get a game like this anywhere else. Definitely not from that pathetic guy he’d befriended.
Not that that’s the reason. It’s not like that guy could ever be competition. The idea’s hilarious.
Aomine’s got enough juice for another game, but Kagami cuts the match off. Usually he would say ‘one more time!’ — but tonight he looks ready to go home and is resigned to letting Aomine keep his win.
He pants and wipes his forehead. “Your win.” Aomine gives a smug grin, hands on his hips, head cocked back.
“I’ll get you next time for sure. Let’s play again Tuesday afternoon if you can.” Aomine’s shoulders dropped. He stared at Kagami as he gathered up his stuff and put his jacket on. “I’ll see you later, Aomine.”
‘Wait.’ Aomine had been planning to come over.
It’s basketball night. He always comes over.
His brow scrunches in confusion. The gears turn in his brain as he watches Kagami pack up, and they keep turning until he goes to the edge of the court, hand on the fence-latch.
“Wait!” he blurts, then looks away sharply when Kagami turns, eyebrows raised. “You wanna’,” he mumbles, scuffing his toe. “You wanna’ hang out tonight?”
Kagami blinks at him, like he’s somehow surprised that he asked. Aomine’s an inch from exploding on him. Is Kagami playing dumb to piss him off or something?
“Oh,” he finally says, like it took him a second to figure out why he would even ask that. “I’ve got plans. Sorry.” He barely sounds sorry again. “Another time,” he promises offhand, and then turns to go, arm raised to wave goodbye. Aomine stares after him, feeling at a loss.
Because he’s starting to think Kagami might not be playing nonchalant to get under his skin. Maybe basketball night is something Aomine’s just imagined and Kagami felt free to make other plans during it whenever he wants. Maybe he really didn’t see anything worth getting excited over when Aomine made fun of his new buddy and it just wasn’t a big deal to him, not even enough that he thought it was worth mentioning.
Maybe Kagami wasn’t picking up on any of this. Like he really just didn’t think that much of Aomine. Or hanging out with him. Or playing basketball with him.
As if. Something’s definitely fishy.
“See ya!” Kagami calls over his shoulder.
Aomine grinds his teeth.