The crosswalk glittered under the rain, wet black under painted strips of white.

Overhead, the massive screen played out a popular advertisement.

Oxford shoes clicked sharp over a marble floor. They halted just before a pair of gem-encrusted high heels. The edges of black satin clothes played just over the top of the shoes. As one of the stunning bright red heels slid forward, the dance began. The camera stayed low, focusing on the shoes entangled in one another, sliding and stepping in swift, flawless rhythm.

Staring up through the rain, he knew the ad by heart. He knew every beat, so well that the music he couldn't hear out in the center of the crosswalk still played in the back of his ears. A phantom melody haunting him as he watched the dance crest into rapid, artful motions.

When the shoes clicked to a sudden stop, the camera started to rise for the first time.

Up, from sharp-tipped oxfords and glittering heels. Up satin ballroom pants and sleek, smooth legs. Up the lines of a glittering red dress and a pressed black suit. Up. To the faces of a woman in a high collar suit, and a blonde young man in a low cut red dress. Kise smiled softly on screen, eyelashes dark and delicate, lips painted soft with a red lipstick to match the dress. Holding him close to her chest, the woman shorter than him was a cascade of dark hair and masculine makeup. The two juxtaposed in a way both startling and yet perfect- the woman's harder jaw complimenting Kise's still-soft features.

Watching from the ground, Aomine narrowed eyes against the rainwater collecting in his hair, running off in rivulets down his face. How long had it been, since the last time he'd ever seen Kise in person? High school? An era that felt like eons ago.. Those days were far behind him, and yet still.. Still he stood there transfixed, watching the brand of luxury footwear sprawl on screen in filigree hiragana.

The ad ended. Some news broadcast came on afterwards. As Kise's face ebbed into no more than a memory once more, Aomine snapped out of his distant haze. Shaking off the last remnants of reverie, he hurried through the rain to finish crossing the street.

"Kise? Are you alright?"

He blinked, eyes fluttering for a moment as he snapped back into the present. Looking up from the floor, Kise stared half-vacant at Akemi for a moment. She was in the middle of pinning her hair up, having paused halfway into a doorway to check on him.

Kise was already dressed. Punctual as ever, he'd arrived early, dressed and bearing a flower arrangement for Akemi to pin in her hair. He had no issue with waiting, as much he'd assured her as she rushed around with her lead designer to get ready. Yet somewhere between handing the flowers over and standing around the living room in Akemi's traditional-style home, his mind had started to drift.

It was raining outside. Threatening to bridge into a thunderstorm. Something about the distant smell of rainwater, the sound of a storm, and the sight of tatami mats.. He felt nostalgic, for half-forgotten moments ages ago. He loosely remembered smells of shower steam and borrowed shampoo.. High school recklessness and carnal curiosity.. Tan skin, pressed against tiled walls..

"Yeah." He lied, smiling soft and reassuring. Akemi was quick and easy to smile back, taking him at face value. She nodded with a soft hum and dipped back out of sight, finishing her hair around the corner as her designer helped her coax accessories on around her fitted dress.

Kise checked the time on his phone. The gala they'd been invited to was still a ways off. They'd likely arrive perfectly on time for some photos and brief interviews along the strip, before heading inside to be seated. Reviewing the schedule in his mind, he felt neither excited nor anxious. This event was nothing special. Just an extension of work, to him. Akemi going with him was likewise nothing special. Their romance was for the media more than anything personal, as they both knew. They looked good together, especially after the recent footwear ad they'd done together. As a couple, they were stunning, enough so to get better offers and roles as an item than apart. So he was going with it, for however long it lasted. Inevitably when it got stale he was sure they'd stage a dramatic breakup for the magazines.

But, for now, things were calm. Faux-romantic. Hollow.

Listening to the sound of the rain, he sighed to himself and slipped back into vague memories.

"He quit basketball."

Those words were imprinted in his head.

Aomine roughed a towel around his head, coaxing water out of his hair as he strode from the cramped bathroom to the rigid hotel bed. Sitting on the edge of it, he felt no better after the hot shower. The storm was coming down harder outside. In the quiet of his room, veiled in only rainfall and distant thunder, he felt haunted by memories. All the lights were off. He hadn't bothered turning any on when he got in, instead leaving the room dark as he focused on showering the chill of the rain off. Now, warm and naked, sitting in the dark, he thought about that night.

Lost. Scared. Overwhelmed. Seeing a side of Kise he likely was never meant to.

The sound of the blonde's sobs still existed deep in the well of his recollection. Sometimes it surfaced at night, when he couldn't sleep or when he dared slow down and stop for too long. History always seemed to catch up to him then, assaulting him with his choices and mistakes.

Had it been a mistake, the night he stayed? The night they talked?

Had it been a mistake, when Kise confided in him the truth of himself?

Had it been a mistake, when he lost his temper and walked out?

In the end, Aomine had been coaxed and all but ordered to compete in the Winter Cup. And when the time came to face Kaijo, Kise hadn't been there. Not even benched. Just gone. He'd asked Kasamatsu and gotten dodgy non-answers. He'd asked Momoi and gotten even less. Later, after a week and some days and a lot of internal debate, he'd even texted Kise directly. It wasn't particularly surprising, that he'd gotten no answer. Surprise came when he went to the blonde's house. When he saw the truck. The furniture being carried out. The signs of a move, unannounced and deeply wounding.

At the time, Aomine hadn't known how to handle the situation. He'd gotten angry, and he'd left. Some stupid, young part of him thought he could be mad and throw a fit and come back later to kick Kise's ass. But he'd come back to an empty house. A husk, where a place had once been. It was a little too on the nose, too similar to finding a husk where his friend had once been. Seeing the home in the same state he'd seen Kise- hollow, abandoned, surreal -Aomine hadn't been able to stay long.

He went home. He stayed angry.

Eventually, he learned to cope.

Life went on. He went on.

He tried to keep texting- furious, confused, hurt things. But no answer ever came. His attempts turned from nightly to weekly to monthly before he gave up entirely. His focus bled to new areas as it was called on. His passion in basketball remained, though changed. He ran too hot, too violent. He played with an ankle-breaker rage, devouring any team stupid enough to approach his throne. All that anger, that sense of betrayal, that fury with no outlet poured out of him on the court. He played through high school and into college. He got offers from professional teams.

Aomine took the path everyone expected. Basketball pro. A national team. Worldwide competitions. Age and experience had tempered his anger, but nothing filled the holes youth left in him. As seemed so often the case with people. He remained an aloof, distant person outside of games. His style refined, relying less on passion and fury and turning more to skill and focus.

He was an adult, now.

Older. Wiser. Mature, at last.

And with all that, he recognized his lingering regrets.

The gala was sprawling and decadent.

Actors, painters, dancers- artists of all kind littered every inch of space from room to room. Hundreds of luxuriously dressed strangers spanned from tables to ballroom floors. People chattered and laughed and juggled manicured conversations with draining champagne glasses.

At the heart of it, Kise was the ideal companion. He smiled right on the line of debonair and delicate, true to his reputation in the industry as someone perfectly androgynous. All it took was makeup to turn him into a sharp, masculine ladykiller or a soft, feminine beauty. His portfolio was abound with years of experience, making up for the lost time of high school.

He'd taken a hiatus. An 'artistic meditative vacation', he called it upon his return. His agent had been thrilled to hear he'd dropped basketball over the winter break. When Kise returned to modeling it was with a fierce power. Every waking moment not consumed by homeschooling was devoted to photo shoots and his first attempts at acting. Surprising no one, he'd taken to the world like a fish to water. Adopting any role with practical perfection, he was able to become a rising star with ease once the conflicts of basketball scheduling were gone. At the start, interviewers tried to pry on that topic. Asking about his absence at the Winter Cup, asking about his removal from his school's team, then eventually his school entirely. Kise was a master at changing the topic though, weaving out of questions with answers that betrayed nothing. So far as the public knew, he was just pursuing acting with a newfound passion. Basketball steadily faded from his reputation, and in its place the glamour and glitter of movies and fame took over.

Now, laughing soft and charming in a group with Akemi on his arm, it was hard to find anyone who even remembered his long lost sports days. Kise Ryota was an actor. One of the hottest stars on the market. A life so many would kill for. And he'd resigned to it cold and quiet.

It wasn't long into the event that security tapped his shoulder. A man with a hard jaw and tailored suit whispered in his ear. Kise's smile faltered into seriousness. He kissed Akemi's cheek and left her to herself for a time, stepping away with the security personnel.

It wasn't until they were alone in a low-traffic corridor that Kise prompted the man, "Now what is this about my house?"

The man reiterated lowly, "We've been notified there's someone outside your residence. They may be a stalker of some kind, it's not clear. Your perimeter security called to notify you and ask how you'd like it handled."

Kise just blinked a few times, somewhere between dumbfounded and insulted.

"Well, obviously, I'd like them removed. How is this something worth interrupting my night over?"

The guard pulled out his phone then, tapping rapidly against it and turning to mutter into his earpiece. When he turned back, it was with his phone turned around to present a photo. "The person isn't being violent, or trying to break in. Your staff says he's not displaying the typical stalker-fan behavior, either. He's just refusing to leave from outside the main gate."

There on screen, hazy through the oppressive sheet of grey rain, was a figure Kise wished he hadn't recognized. Even after all these years, Aomine was the same. Tall and powerfully lithe, tan skin standing out against the greywash of the stormy street. His dark hair was plastered to his face just as tight and soaked as his clothes, as he simply stood with arms crossed and chin raised. The very image of stubbornness, though without as much flagrant anger as Kise would have expected.

It took him a moment to digest what he was looking at, as the security guard continued, "He says he knows you from high school, but doesn't have your current number. He keeps telling security he wants to talk to you, and is just going to wait until you come home." As he moved to return his phone to his pocket, Kise shook his head to rid himself of the trance-like fixation on the image. As he swallowed, his throat felt dry and strange. Just slightly, his heartbeat was racing.

"Uhm.." Kise looked around, unsure why he felt so on edge.

To his nervousness, the guard offered, "We can have him removed, if you'd like. Even if he's not on your property technically, it can still be billed as trespassing if you'd like."

Kise shook his head without even thinking about it.

"No, no.. That won't be necessary."

The guard nodded then, waiting for instruction.

Kise wished he had a good answer for the man. But as he stood there, struggling to process the situation, he felt at a loss. After several long beats, instinct rose up where it had been dormant for years. Glancing over his shoulder, the blonde looked up and down the relatively empty hall. A part of him wanted to find Akemi. To apologize. But she was still out in the main room, and without thinking clearly through it, he just started muttering impulsive orders.

"Please go inform Miss Tsukuda I had to handle this personally." Kise pulled his own phone free as the guard nodded and started to move past him. As the man disappeared around the corner, Kise took to walking. Somewhere between the hall and the back exit of the building, that pace turned sharp, then rushed. As he ended up jogging out to the pulled around car, he dialed the head of his house's security. Telling them to expect his arrival, he wasn't sure what else to add. A warning for them to expect an assault? An invitation to bring Aomine inside? Neither left him as he sat on the phone, feeling lost in the moment for the first time in years.

As his car rushed through the packed city traffic, he stared out the window vacantly.

Strange and forgotten, something fluttered painfully in his chest.

He knew better than to start a fight.

He didn't need that kind of media attention, or trouble getting back to his coach and team. Aomine was hot-blooded, impatient, and nervous. But he wasn't stupid. Not anymore.

Standing out in the rain, waiting with a gut-turning nervousness, he knew better than to make it physical when staff shielded under umbrellas came out to ask him what he wanted. When he explained, and they asked him to leave, he still knew better than to lash out. Staying just a pace away from the perimeter gate barring Kise's new, stupid, fancy residence from the main street, Aomine crossed his arms and held his position. He wasn't leaving. He wasn't going to try to break his way in. He knew what he was there to do, and he was going to see it through to the end. That was just that.

So he stood. He argued. He waited.

Eventually the staff gave up and retreated back inside. Thunder broke overhead, rolling over loud and angry. Lightning started to flash, brighter and closer. He flinched a few times beneath it, but refused to be scared off the street. Even as rain soaked his clothes frigid and leaden, he stayed put. Stubborn and shivering. Driven by the idea that had started to consume him weeks ago. He held his ground and waited and as a car finally pulled up down the street, he hoped to every god he knew that it was Kise.

The sleek, luxury black car rolled to a stop and stayed that way for a long time. Aomine wasn't sure if it was better for him to stare or pretend to not have noticed it. In the end he couldn't help it, and wound up glaring through the rain pouring down his face at the tinted-windows. Minutes passed like hours before one of the doors finally cracked open. The driver hopped out, opening an umbrella and rushing around to the back. Aomine almost laughed at the pretentious sight of someone holding an umbrella and door open for Kise to step out under. But all derisive humor was stolen with the breath in his lungs as the blonde from his memories was lost forever.

What stepped out of the car was not the Kise he remembered.

This person, the practical stranger, was tall and slender and beautiful. Kise had always been pretty, but not like this. Something in the lines of the pale face Aomine looked out at felt severe, and drained. Like something had sucked Kise dry and forced the body left behind to keep moving. He didn't look overly gaunt or sick, but there was an emptiness about him. A coldness that shattered all of Aomine's memories of the warm, bubbly, kind of stupid boy who had laughed and played round after round of basketball with him in middle school. Even the tortured, stressed crybaby from high school seemed happier than this.. Thing. This alien wearing Kise's skin.

Aomine's crossed arms went slack as he stared, stunned. He watched in silence as Kise had some exchange with the driver before taking the umbrella and advancing on his own. All the lengthy, sweeping lines Aomine had constructed and rehearsed escaped him, then. As he stood there watching Kise approach, he felt exhausted. As if just the blonde's empty presence was sucking the life from him in its closeness.

"Aomine.." Kise muttered as he drew near enough to be audible. It only added to the surreal quality, to hear his voice made older and stronger, speaking a name that Aomine felt was unfinished without the stupid petname addition on the end. Even if he hadn't heard it in years, watching Kise's lips move and stop short made him feel unsettled and wrong.

Lips parted. Aomine made a sound, but it wasn't a word. He tried, failed, and shut his mouth for a moment before trying again with barely better success. "Kise." He returned, sounding more confused than anything.

Too much of Kise now reminded him of that night. Their fight. The wrong, cold creature that he'd met back then. That he'd run from. It took him a lot of growing up and thinking back to realize what he'd done. The Aomine of back then had been impulsive and angry, unable to process things and express them properly. From his angle, all he'd understood was that a friend he'd once known was cold and cruel and not at all the person he thought he'd.. Loved? Maybe? The way high schoolers ever loved anything- reckless and half-baked and entirely too much at once.

But it had been love. Even if it was just the cusp of it, Aomine had loved Kise. Or, the Kise he thought he knew. The one that was apparently just an act, a fake. Trying to swallow that had been impossible for him back then, so he'd run. He'd walked out, slammed the door in Kise's face, and refused to talk to him again until the day it was revealed the blonde wasn't participating in the Winter Cup. Perhaps idealistically, he'd assumed they were going to settle their differences on the court, there. He was going to beat Kise, then tell him how stupid he was for behaving the way he had. He'd been prepared to even concede how Kise needed a team, and friends, and they'd all been right there the whole time if he'd just wake up to it.

But life wasn't some perfectly scripted tv show. It didn't work out that way. He'd made a mistake, reacting off pure anger and confusion. He'd been too impulsive, too immature. And it had cost him a friend who had needed his help. It took him growing up and looking back to realize that from Kise's side, he had revealed something tender and precarious. Aomine had walked out on him exposing his real self. Aomine had abandoned Kise the one time he needed him, and trusted him, the most. And it ate at him. Across years and years once he realized, it ate at Aomine. He'd considered reaching out. But Kise had fallen out with the whole Generation of Miracles. He'd left the basketball world, and thus their one connecting tether. For a long time, Aomine used that as an excuse to give up. To do nothing.

But then that goddamn shoe ad came on, over, and over, and over again. And the boiling in his gut reminded him every time he saw Kise dancing with some woman, that this wasn't right. Leaving it how they had.. Giving up, making excuses, resigning to that regret..

Aomine grit his teeth. He sucked in a deep, sharp breath in time with a flash of lightning. Thunder rolled in a quaking boom overhead, and right behind it just as loud Aomine bellowed, "I'm sorry!"

In a snap, he bowed low. Eyes slammed shut, his body folded forward, and he continued to shout. "You needed me! You reached out to me that day, and I ran away! I'm sorry!"

Holding himself there, his whole body locked up. Tense and churning between fear and sorrow and guilt. He stayed bowed, listening through the heavy rain as Kise remained still and silent. Now, at least, Aomine understood others' emotions enough to hold steady. To wait. Hell, if this kind of thing happened to him, he wouldn't know how to react either. So he waited, forcing himself to exert the patience needed to ride it all out until finally Kise's voice returned to him.

He sounded confused and unsure as he had to speak up over the sound of the storm, "What.. Are you even saying? Aomine, that was years ago.. Surely you didn't wait out here all night in the rain just to say that.."

"I did!" Aomine replied sharp and certain, raising back up to look at Kise stubbornly. He set his jaw. He squared his shoulders. Looking the other dead in the eyes, the words he'd prepared over and over found their way back to him. A little less refined, but the sentiment remained. "Because you needed to hear it. You deserved to! Because.. Because I want you to know, I'm not that person anymore! I'm here, now. I know that's not worth much, and you've probably moved on, but.. I couldn't stop thinking about it! About you. That night. About the Winter Cup, and when you quit basketball, and moved, and-"

As he carried on, Kise's face turned flat. Detached. Comfortably removed from the situation, guarded behind his numb impassiveness. Aomine wanted so desperately to break through it, but he held himself back. Staying rooted, hands balling up at his sides, he gestured in wide, strong movements out of a desperation to make his words reach through to the other.

"I want you to know I'm sorry! I want you to know I'm not that person anymore!" He shouted.

Kise, cold-faced, nodded slowly. "I know, Aomine." He offered, without warmth or investment. He didn't have to continue, Aomine could tell he was saying it just for his benefit. But Kise went on flatly, "We've both grown up. It's alright. I don't hold that against you, we were just kids. It's fine."

Just barely, Kise's posture shifted as if to walk away. Aomine lurched forward a desperate step on impulse. Kise went rigid, locking up as if afraid of his advance. Truth be told, Aomine never thought he'd see this day. The day he was the one pouring his heart out all dramatic and stupid. The day Kise was the one making such a neutral, uneffected face.

But there they were. Adults. Different people, as Kise had admitted.

And there Aomine was, refusing to give up now that he'd come this far. "It's not fine!" He argued. "You deserved better from me, then! I know it's late, but.. But I want to be that person, now. I want to be who you deserved back then, when you opened up to me. When you showed me who you really are. I said I wanted to know you, the real you, then I ran. It's not fair, it wasn't right, and I just- I just!"

Words, for all his rehearsal, failed him.

When Aomine surged forward, everything happened so fast. From the car down the street, people burst out in a panic. From another car the opposite way, men in suits erupted. From the house gated off, staff poured through the front door.

Aomine didn't care. He wrapped both hands around Kise's shoulders, shaking him slightly. Kise tried to step back and stumbled somewhat, dropping his umbrella in the startle. For just a moment, his expression cracked into something honest and startled. Wide gold eyes glittered with a new flash of lightning. Aomine shouted with a thundering force, "I want to be there for you!"

Staff and security surged up the street from both ends. Every second felt ignited and alive. Precious in its finite passing. Aomine didn't waste a single moment, holding Kise tight and booming every word so it wouldn't risk getting lost under the storm. "I care about you! Even now, even after all these years! I can't stop thinking about you! I know that sounds stupid and cheesy, but every time I remember you I-"

Someone tackled him from behind. Hands from all over started to pry him off Kise. As two men struggled to drag him backwards, a horde of people started coaxing Kise back the other way. All the while, through the sea of their writhing bodies, Aomine couldn't rip his eyes off Kise's face. His stunned, pale, wide-eyed face. He looked shocked. Confused. Lost. He looked like he was finally feeling something. For the first time in.. how long?

For several dizzying, chaotic heartbeats people tore them apart. Kise staggered with the momentum before catching his own footing. He held his ground, swatting the prying and nervous hands of his security and staff off himself. All while Aomine struggled and squirmed and kept shouting over the mess, "Kise! You're right! Maybe I never knew you, really, but-" Arms wound around both of his. Someone kicked his ankle out from under him, throwing his balance back. As two suited guards reared all their weight back to start carrying him further away, Aomine craned his neck just to keep a line of sight on Kise's bewildered face.

"Go out on a date with me!" He cried out at the top of his lungs. "That's what I waited for! That's what I wanted to ask! Please! Let me take you out, let me get to know who you really are!"

Kise lurched. A confused, thoughtless step forward. His hair was falling free from it's styled sweep back. As rain ran his bangs down into his face, he looked for just a moment like the person Aomine remembered. Not the bubbly idiot. Not the desperate crybaby. But those brief, honest glimmers of something underneath. Of someone raw and scared and confused, small and lost in a giant world of demands and no answers.

For just a moment, they were those overwhelmed, clueless teenagers again.

Bearing themselves raw and trying to figure out everything clumsily as they went.

"Why?!" Kise shouted to him. "Why do you even care?"

Aomine squirmed as the guards hauling him paused, looking back uncertain at Kise's calling out. "I don't know!" He admitted. Beneath the struggle, the panic, the heat of the moment- he almost sounded amused. "But it's been years, and I can't stop thinking about you! About this- doing this. That's gotta mean something, right?!"

Kise's mouth opened, but nothing came out right away. Around them the clamor of everyone turned to stilled confusion, looking between them both and lingering on Kise for some signal of what to do. For a painfully long moment, Kise was still and silent, looking at Aomine with a rampant flood of emotions. Confused, mostly. But hurt and wariness ran just beneath it. He shook his head just slightly, and right when Aomine felt certain the blonde was about to have him hauled away, Kise laughed. It sounded awful. Weak and breathy, like someone who had forgotten how to laugh right, or maybe never learned. He laughed and it built, overflowing with all the stress and chaos of the moment. No one seemed to know how to react to that, Aomine included.

But Kise carried on, wheeze-rasping and shaking his head, wiping at his eyes and half-gasping, "What kind of terrible answer is that?" For all that Aomine expected, there was no malice in the reply. Just Kise. Raw and awkward and while not exactly warm, he seemed.. True. Strange and foreign. A different person that Aomine didn't know or understand. But he was enraptured all the same as Kise fought for composure through another fit of bubbling little gasps. "You did all this and you don't even know why? You're supposed to say something dramatic and sweet!"

Aomine, despite all his own confusion and uncertainty, crooked a smile.

"Dramatic and sweet ain't my style!" He called out, as the hands around him started to slowly loosen. As staff exchanged lost looks and weak shrugs, Kise continued to laugh and tilt forward into it.

"You idiot." He sighed, catching his breath.

Aomine held his, waiting for some ultimate verdict as the blonde slowly straightened and settled.

In the end, they shared a strange, indescribable look at a distance.

Aomine all but begged with his eyes, hopeful but nervous. Kise regarded him for a long moment through the rain, before abruptly turning to the cluster of finely dressed people at his sides. He muttered things Aomine couldn't make out, before the grouping broke apart in a wary rush. When one of them scurried over towards him and the group of guards, he caught the words "Bring him inside".

Hands went loose, not precisely inviting but no longer trying to forcibly detain him.

As Aomine regained his footing and looked up, Kise passed by with the rest of his flustered entourage.

The blonde looked back as he passed through the opening metal gates. Aomine's pulse skittered and faltered.

For just a moment as he passed, Kise smiled.

It was unlike anything Aomine had ever seen before.

He knew then, as people chattered and argued and he was clumsily lead inside by security, from here on out nothing was going to be the same for either of them again. From here, years later and not remotely who they once were, they both had a real chance to restart.

Hello, everyone. It's been a while, hasn't it?

I don't have any sweeping speeches, this time.

I'm not sure if this is a continuation, or just my attempt to give you all some form of conclusion to this story.

Even now, I still get reviews and kind comments for this story, and I feel like you all deserve some closure if nothing else.

These days, I'm working as an indie author on my own website at JeanRainier (dot com). If you're interested in my writing, stop by!

I have a story that releases there entirely free to read, for those interested.

Thank you for all the support over the years.