Just because you like someone doesn't mean they'll like you back. In fact it doesn't even mean they'll acknowledge you. Maybe if you join the sport they play, or if you invite them on a group date. Maybe if you memorize all their favorite idols and introduce them, watching them gush with eyes that should be yours. Maybe if you're lucky someone will confess to them for you.

"I love you."

Now was that so hard? What is easy is looking right through the person you are staring in the eyes. How should I get those cold eyes to venerate me? I want to seal them away forever.

Even though our feet pattern in unison, and our breaths sync with each swish of the basketball, it is obvious he cannot see me at all. Not the me I want him to see.

"So I don't care! I just want to beat you Aomine!"

Just one time. If I can achieve that then maybe I won't pamper this ache anymore. I can pretend for the rest of my life I feel nothing for you. He's in the zone, he traces my steps and I try to imitate his, but the way his body undulates and curves, he's making love to the court. Dribbling is his foreplay and shooting is his stroke.

Who am I kidding?

I jump to slam the shot. Even though I want it so badly - reaching - reaching-reaching to the hoop, heavens and beyond. Let me free of this burdening man, so that I may give my heart to someone who can meliorate these blackened veins. I want to feel weightless when I soar. I want to float in air and dream a dreamless slumber.

But... I feel the hands like shackles pulling me down. The ball teetering out of my damp grasp and landing into foul. I want to rip out this cursed heart of mine. What did I do to deserve such a lone destiny?

"Game!"

My heart flutters hopefully and pathetically. It senses the end has not yet come. It beats angry, cursing my pragmatic mind, knowing our hands will touch midcourt for those beautiful seconds. Time where his gaze is only mine, when his smile is in my power, when his body is so close to strike.

How ridiculous can you be?

I'll keep pining, and reaching, until my arms are sore with lesions of doubt. I'll keep wishing on the star I'm trying to grasp in my hands, hoping you'll see me standing here behind you.

"Aominecchi." I'll keep smiling and telling you good game, though I'll secretly plot your end- the end to this decadent fate. I'll extend my hand for you to hold, clutching, but rue the day when I can stab his essence to death. Forever.

"Good game, Aominecchi."

"Thanks Kise."

Forever... Aomine.

Long time no see guys. I've missed Aokise so much! This is an opener I wrote. It's based upon a DJ I read. I MAY continue this and write out the entire story. But I'll warn you now it's a bucket of angst. My story will take place before the DJ. Very awesome ending though in the DJ which I'll link you to if I decide to write it of course.