kuroko no basuke, fanfiction.

kise ryouta and aomine daiki, oneshot.

wordcount: 1473

warning(s): heartbreak, angst, major character injury, oblique spoilers/required knowledge from Q195

[spoiler/author's note: for those who don't know, Kise sustained a leg injury in the match against Haizaki, and now in the Seirin-Kaijou game, he was benched because the coach and Kasamatsu didn't want him straining the injury and turning it into something worse. His limit is 2 minutes. However, 4 minutes before the end of the game, Kise insists on going on no matter what, so there are worries and speculations that he may actually permanently injure his leg. This is a 'what if' scenario.]

—-

There are yellow-brown flecks on the pastel green curtains, and Kise can't help but wonder if they're from dust, dirt, or maybe even a previous patient's long-dried blood. It's not the ambiguous origin of the stains that bothers him though; rather, it's the way that that they make the already tacky curtains look even tackier than before. The entire room in itself is quite a shabby affair, with off-white walls and a vase of plastic flowers in the corner, and Kise keeps wondering to himself who in the hell chooses light green curtains for any sort of room. The drapes are the same color as a doctor's scrubs, and while Kise remembers a scientific explanation for why surgeons have to wear that particularly hideous shade of green, it's still no reason to put patient's through the agony of having to endure such a horribly decorated room. Wards, after all, are not operation theatres. Seeing the color of scrubs every waking moment, combined with the pervasive stench of antiseptic and overt cleanliness, is oddly depressing; to Kise, the entire sickly atmosphere only serves as a continuous reminder of his own situation.

So lost is he in the contemplation of scrub-colored curtains that Kise almost misses the sound of footsteps and the door opening. He turns away from the window to see who it is, and his eyes widen in surprise. "Aominecchi! It's nice to see you!" Kise greets his visitor, and his smile is plastic. The tension in Kise's features and the flash of pain in his eyes give away the fact that he means the exact opposite, and by now, Aomine knows him well enough to pick up on the signals. Kise can tell by the way that the dark-skinned boy can barely be bothered to force a half-smile onto his face. Aomine is definitely the last person that Kise would like to see in this state, and Kise can only hope that the other boy understands the reasons for his apprehension; it's been difficult to come to terms with the current state of affairs, and Aomine's presence isn't making it any easier.

Aomine takes a seat next to Kise's hospital bed, and notices the way that the blonde avoids making direct eye contact. His gaze is fixed on the fake carnations on his bedside table, and Aomine really can't tell what he's thinking. It takes a few moments before Aomine decides to break the silence; he knows that he shouldn't be pushy with Kise at this time, but he's never been very patient, and Kise will always just flitter around the subject without ever mentioning it. "You didn't tell me you were in the hospital, Tetsu had to text me and tell me to see you," Aomine remarked plainly, and although it wasn't meant as an accusation but merely a statement of fact, Kise clearly takes it as such. A light wince crosses the blonde's face, and his grin widens sheepishly.

"Ah, sorry about that, Aominecchi," Kise chuckles as he looks towards the window. "It's not much, just checking up on an old injury, so I didn't think I needed to tell anyone." This is a lie, and Aomine doesn't have to see the tightening of Kise's shoulders or the sadness in his smile to know so. "But the doctor says it's fine, so there's nothing to worry about." It isn't until now that Kise turns back to face Aomine, and he gives that practiced expression of ease and calm that's appeared on more magazine covers than Aomine can count. Aomine can't help but feel a stirring of rage and hurt that Kise has to be so artificial in front of him.

Kise can see Aomine's hands curl into fists on his knees, and knows that Aomine knows the truth, or at least knows that he's lying. Kise doesn't want to hear the confirmation of reality coming from Aomine because Aomine is, at the core of all that arrogance and anger, a lost and very pure little boy who just loves to play basketball. If Aomine acts like nothing's happened, then maybe Kise can just go on denying and pretending for the rest of his lie, but Aomine's incapable of lying and manipulating, he's far too stupid and childish for that. Whatever he says has to be the truth, or he will believe that it is truth and will it into existence. Kise doesn't want to face this reality, and prays that Aomine won't force him to do so, but when has fortune ever been on his side, really? Today must be a terribly unlucky day for Geminis.

"Stop bullshitting me, Kise," he hears Aomine growl, and Kise's gaze is cast downwards, back towards his own lap. The illusion of normalcy and levity is broken, and something seems to go out inside Kise as well. Kise's always been so vibrant and lively, as if he's been under a permanent spotlight all his life. The overenthusiastic and fun-loving Kise is all that Aomine's ever known, and it's the only Kise that Aomine knows how to handle. Right now, it looks as if all the stagelights have suddenly shut off, leaving a tired actor alone in the darkness. What disturbs Aomine the most is the resignation and hopelessness that's appeared in Kise all of a sudden, in the slump of his back and the idleness of his hands. It's completely different from the intensity and willpower of the same boy that he met on the court, and Aomine wants to say that there's something gravely wrong with this, that this can't be the Kise that he knows at all, but the words fail to form on his lips.

Kise takes a deep breath, and when he exhales, it looks like all the breath has been pumped out of him, and he looks so small in the hospital robes. The stretch of his lips looks more like a grimace than a smile, and there's a certain frailty to the way that he looks. This is new to Aomine, because while Kise may be shorter and smaller than him, the blonde is by no means skinny- basketball practice has made sure of that. But right now, Aomine can't help but feel as though Kise might be blown off by a strong gust of wind. "Sorry, Aominecchi," the blonde mumbled, eyes staring at his blanket unblinkingly. "Looks like I'll never be able to provide you a challenge after all."

In this moment, everything fits into place, and everything shatters to piece. Kise watches Aomine's eyes widen with rage and horror at realising the true gravity of the situation. Aomine grits his teeth, and his eyes sharpen with a feral intensity that is both beautiful and frightening. "It's the wound from Haizaki, isn't it?" He growls, low and dangerous, and warning sirens start blaring in Kise's mind. He reaches a hand out to grab at Aomine, but then remembers that he's not supposed to move, and he isn't able to stop Aomine from standing up and storming towards the door, no doubt intending to hunt down Haizaki and beat the shit out of him. Kise's cries of "Aominecchi, no!" "Wait, Aomenicchi, stop!" are completely ignored as Aomine stalks away, and it's only when he has his hand on the doorknob that he freezes.

"Aomine!"

The lack of endearment at the end of his name is so jarringly foreign coming in Kise's voice that Aomine can't help but stop cold in his tracks and slowly turn around to face the blonde on the hospital bed. Even from this distance, he can see tears welling up in Kise's eyes and dripping down his cheeks like a pair of fountains, but Kise isn't even sobbing, just staring at Aomine wide-eyed, silently begging. There's no way that Aomine can ignore such a desperate plea, and he slowly wanders his way back into his seat with the otherworldly blankness of a shock victim, because this sight is shocking and terrible and wrong.

As soon as Aomine's sat down, Kise's eyes gaze into his filled with a sense hopelessness and naked honesty that hurts Aomine to look at, but he can't help but hold Kise's stare. "It's alright," Kise whispers in a voice that sounds as fragile as he looks. The tears are still flowing, but Kise acts like they're not there. "It was my own fault anyways. It was my fault for being stupid and pushing myself too hard. No-one else's, okay Aominecchi? You don't need to blame them."

Aomine has seen Kise upset and battered many times, the most recent of which would be in the aftermath of the Touou-Kaijou match in the Interhighs. But never has he seen Kise so broken, and he doesn't know why it hurts, it just does.