Ah, I feel bad for not having updated this in so long, so here is a chapter for you all. (Yay, now I can finally return to studying for a while, having accomplished an update). Enjoy.

Note: Relationships/pairings that I put into this story are not necessarily canonical, and there will be male/male pairings. There have been warnings before, but I just thought I'd reiterate that.

It was a beautiful day in the north, Kasamatsu Yukio noted quietly to himself as he wove his way through the blue tents of the Kaijo army in search of a morning meal. The sun was out, and risen early today –a good sign, those of his men who still followed the First Gods, said –and the sky was a brilliant, deep blue. For the north, it was strangely mild. For a change, the sun didn't feel as though it would sear through his clothes, and the wind didn't taste like dust.

And yet, something about this day seemed off, and it unsettled him.

Kasamatsu approached a bench where some of his men were enjoying the gentle day, and suddenly discovered what was wrong with this scene.

It was too quiet, in a sense.

He was in an army encampment, so of course it wasn't truly quiet; there were men moving about the tents and sparring and arguing and shouting out orders to one another, accompanied by the shrill whinnies of impatient horses. But, there was one sound that Kasamatsu had, much to his annoyance, grown accustomed to early in the morning, that today was absent.

"Where's Kise?" he inquired of Moriyama, a small scowl crossing his face in an attempt at looking impatient, rather than concerned. If his officer saw through his façade, he made no comment, simply gestured with an elegant finger in the direction of one of the horse pens.

Strange, that Kise wasn't eating with officers. Strange, even, that he hadn't come to wake him. As many times as Kasamatsu informed him that it was unprofessional and all-round a rather bad idea to burst into his tent and shake him awake, the blonde never seemed to take in such information. On days like this especially, Kaijo's captain would find himself waking to the handsome, beaming face of what (at the time) seemed as bright as the sun itself. He would curse and bat away that irritatingly cheerful grin, but Kise would never take it to heart, and simply leap back with some kind of proclamation of how beautiful the sky was, and how glorious the sunrise had been that day.

On mornings like this one, he would always talk about how beautiful the sky was.

For some reason that Kasamatsu didn't care to think of, Kise had a fascination with the blue of the sky, and its endless depths.

So, it did seem rather unusual for Kise to be moping with the horses as opposed to chattering on with the men. These bright days seemed to fill him with a kind of light that his captain had come to envy a little, and in these last few months especially, he had seemed to find some new kind of happiness in just mingling with his comrades and telling stories of home.

"Kise," Kasamatsu greeted flatly, when he came across the blonde quietly feeding some of the horses with a somewhat saddened, quiet look upon his face. At the sound of his name, Kise's bright mask was back in place, and he smiled at his captain, though it failed to reach his eyes.

"Oh, good morning, sir," he remarked with exaggerated cheer.

"You didn't wake me this morning," Kasamatsu commented with a small frown; joining him at the edge of the pen and reaching out to stroke the nose of the horse that trotted over to greet him.

" –But sir, you always complain when I do that, and then you hit me," Kise reminded him morosely.

"…I know that!" Kasamatsu snorted crossly, and then sighed when he saw that already, Kise's fake smile had faded a little, "…You seem troubled."

"Troubled, sir? No, not me," Kise laughed, but even as the sound left his throat, it sounded a little forced. Almost immediately, he let out a yelp as a fist connected with the back of his head. He blinked up at his captain with his usual, forlorn pout, but Kasamatsu looked firmly at the horse in front of him.

"Don't lie to me, Kise," he ordered flatly, "What's wrong?" Upon hearing no response for a long while, he glanced over and saw that the blonde was still staring at him, as though stunned that he was actually inquiring into his wellbeing.

"It's…It's nothing," Kise mumbled, leaning heavily on the fence and staring at the horses, "I just…had a dream last night, sir."

"Oh," Kasamatsu frowned. A dream? He wondered what kind of dream could cause Kise's eyes to grow sad. He knew that the blonde was never as innocent as his face led many to believe –Kise's eyes had a habit of turning from wicked to playful in a matter of seconds…but he'd never seen him look like he did now.

"…It was more of a memory, sir," Kise admitted with a small shrug. "I was…I was dreaming about when I was younger…" He trailed off a little bit and then graced Kasamatsu with another smile –less forced, but still sad. Kasamatsu let out a soft sigh and simply replied, "…Tell me about it."

"Uh…sir?" Kise queried, apparently not having understood the order. A little irritated that he had had to repeat himself, Kasamatsu turned to the blonde with an annoyed glare.

"Tell me about your dream," he repeated flatly, "Let's hear it." He could understand Kise's confusion a little, even if he found it tiresome. Usually, whenever Kise would dream, he would rant about it completely unasked, always in that over-cheerful kind of way that left Kasamatsu with a throbbing headache and the overwhelming urge to kick him –but this seemed different, and already he could tell that the dream had troubled him, or something. He didn't really know what it could have been about, because, in all honesty, he didn't know all that much about Kise's past.

But, another strange thing about this morning, was that he had admitted to himself that he was curious.

"I was a lordling long before I was a soldier," Kise began, his golden eyes softening. Kasamatsu frowned, but inclined his head, listening, "Even when I was little; twelve, maybe…maybe younger… I was being groomed for life as a noble. I wasn't so good at the schooling part of it, but everything else…" He chuckled to himself a little, "…I was the best."

And that was no lie. Even though he was one of the younger boys up at the castle, Kise was always the best of them at riding and archery and music and dance. He could capture a room with a story, talk gold from the pockets of any lord or lady, and had the smoothest tongue of any bachelor. Ladies were lining up their daughters at his parents' feet, just hoping that those dolls were pretty and painted enough for the golden boy.

Anywhere that Kise went, he found himself followed and adored. Sometimes he would traipse through the castle in search of adventure, as any young boy does, and his steps would be dogged by the very girls who sought to one day be his wife. Some were shy, and would follow at a distance; the girls giggling and hiding around corners bashfully. Others were bolder, and would walk with him and take his arm, batting their eyes at him and teasingly ask for a kiss.

He was kind to them all; dancing with the shy ones and turning his lips away from the bolder –because he had been a gentleman and knew that a good boy of noble birth should not be stealing kisses from young ladies. But no matter how many chaperoned meetings he had with potential matches; no matter how many girls chased him, he could find no one who he found could truly hold his interest –like how he could not seem to find anything that could keep his interest.

Archery, he enjoyed, but he was too good and won every competition without fail. Riding was enjoyable, but there was nothing thrilling about it. He could play music that rivalled that of the wandering bards that ventured into Teiko, and he could sing and paint and excelled in anything he tried.

He was reflecting the abilities of those around him long before he became the Mirror.

"It was spring, I think," Kise murmured quietly, "I remember, because it had been a very warm winter, and I'd been allowed to finish my lessons early because it was so hot. I wanted to go down to the market, because it was so much more exciting than the boring castle –"

He remembered it well. His mother had forbidden him from going to the market in the city that day, because there was no one to escort him and he was bound to get his clothes dirty. A battalion of the army had just returned recently so the city was certain to be even busier than usual, and she didn't want him getting into any mischief.

Having wanted only to find a new trinket or something to keep himself entertained, he had wandered off in a sulk, and found his way to one of the big courtyards. It was there that he had first seen him.

Kise's ears pricked up at the sound of guards yelling from somewhere on the floor above. Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, he briefly caught sight of a castle guard running along the corridor, obviously in pursuit of something or someone.

"Get the thief!" he heard a man shout in a thick, deep voice.

"He's too fast!" another guard shouted, and Kise's heart began to race; wondering what kind of villain they were chasing. It must be exciting, up there.

But from the sounds of it, whoever they were chasing was making a beeline for the courtyard, if the thudding of the guard's footsteps on the stone stairs inside was anything to go by. Kise was alone in the square, save for the huge stone statues that he would sometimes sneak down to at night, when they seemed to come alive in the moonlight. Maybe he should call for someone? If this person was dangerous, he might be in trouble…

That thought vanished, all of a sudden, in a light of blinding blue.

Time, for Kise, seemed to pause at that moment, and he froze; the breath catching in his throat as he watched, completely transfixed by the sight before him.

The guards had caught up –no, rather, their quarry had slowed enough to mock them –and had their swords drawn. In other situation, Kise would have laughed, to see five armed, grown men, facing down what was apparently just a boy his own age.

But Kise didn't laugh.

Instead, his eyes lit up in awe as he watched that blue blur dance. A short, blunt training sword was held in his right hand, and a small tray of hot, steaming pastries –likely stolen from the kitchen –held aloft in the other as his prize. By some entrancing magic, that boy, with dark skin and deep, midnight-blue hair, was holding his own –batting away the blades of the guards with a grin full of mischief and a laugh full of excitement.

Again and again, the guards would lunge forwards; trying to catch the boy, but every time he would duck aside with uncanny speed and agility, and would turn aside their blows no matter how sudden. He seemed like a street urchin –at least, he was dressed like one; dressed in rags and with dirty, bare feet –and there was something wild about him. As he fought; his blunt blade seeming to be a very piece of him, Kise could have sworn he could see a kind of light –an energy –radiating from him. Every movement was so flawless and fluid, and yet so strangely powerful.

The way he moved was like nothing from this world.

He had never seen anything like him before.

"Aomine-kun!" an aggrieved, feminine voice wailed from somewhere down the corridor where both thief and pursuers had emerged from. The young boy snickered as the guards' attention wavered, and, with a small, smug grin over towards the staring blonde, had darted off on feet lighter than the castle cats'.

Kise's heart thudded heavily in his chest at that brief flash of pearly white teeth and lips curled up into a wicked, laughing smile. Blue eyes had glinted over at him playfully; eyes filled with delight and triumph –and then in that inexplicable, mesmerising flash of blue, he was gone; scampering up a huge dragon statue with ease and making his way towards the wall.

Within moments, he was out of sight.

Almost as soon as he was gone, a pretty young woman had appeared in the doorway, panting lightly and trying her hardest to keep her skirts from trailing along the floor indelicately. Kise had immediately been struck by how softly pretty she was; light pink hair pulled back into a dainty plait, and matching eyes expressing both annoyance and urgency.

" –Stop, please," she called out to the guards, sounding weary from having chased them, "Don't chase him –"

"That child is a thief," one of the guards growled, approaching her, "Do you know him? Where has the little street rat gone? Anyone who steals from the King –"

"He's not a street rat!" she sniffed crossly, "He's a soldier! And I'm sure His Majesty won't notice a few pies going missing –"

"A soldier?" the guard scoffed, "Like a kid like that could be –"

"…Excuse me, sir," Kise interrupted, stepping forwards with one of his best smiles on, "…But I do believe that he was beating you."

"…You fought him?" the girl exclaimed in annoyance, and puffed out her cheeks in resignation, "Oh, I told him not to go getting into trouble! But of course he won't listen…" She sighed again and her face broke into an apologetic smile, "…I'm so very sorry that he was difficult. I assure you, he means no harm –"

"You expect us to just let him go?" another guard snapped, and she folded her arms; eyes hardening slightly, and causing Kise to believe that this young girl –probably no older than himself –was not someone to mess with.

"…Aomine-kun just returned from fighting for his kingdom, at the request of Aka –I mean, His Highness," the girl informed the guards a little snootily, "…So I do expect you, the castle guards who have done no such thing, to let him have a tray of pies."

Kise had never seen grown men look so heavily scolded, and by a young girl, no less. She seemed used to it.

"I don't suppose you saw where he went?" the girl finally inquired, when the guards had trooped off back to their stations, nursing their wounded egos at having been both bested by a child and then berated by another.

"Oh, um…" Kise, having suddenly forgotten all his courtly manners, simply pointed in the direction. She let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh good, he's gone back to the barracks, hopefully," she remarked, her face breaking into a soft, kind smile, "I'm Momoi Satsuki by the way."

"Kise Ryouta," he introduced himself, "Who…who was that? Did he really just come back from war?" he added, a little uncertainly; not knowing whether he should be asking. Momoi giggled to herself sweetly.

"That was Aomine Daiki," she informed him, "And yes, he was in the battalion that just recently returned. He was visiting me at the castle, but it seems like he couldn't resist causing trouble before he left..." She looked at him then, with a calculating gaze and inclined her head thoughtfully, but said nothing.

Even after Momoi had excused herself, Kise remained in the courtyard, staring at the stone paving and replaying that fight in his mind. Every movement of Aomine's was seared into his mind, and even though he hadn't been a part of it, he had realised that as he had watched, his heart had begun to beat unnaturally fast, as though fuelled by something.

Such grace; such presence; such raw spirit…

He wondered if he could ever be like that.

He wondered if he could be a soldier.

"After seeing that fight, I joined the army," Kise murmured, and Kasamatsu nodded in understanding. Kise hadn't named the street urchin who he had seen fighting, but from the way he spoke, he didn't need the name to know.

"…I was only in the army for a few months before I began moving up ranks," Kise continued, his expression softening almost fondly, "…Before I knew it, I was standing among the people that would come to be known as the Commanders of Miracles. Aominecchi, he was there to greet me –he wasn't the Demon, back then –he was just a boy, like me. He said…"

'It's amazing that you're here already…seeing as you just joined, and all…'

" –But really, the one that was amazing, was him," Kise continued, and Kasamatsu found that he found the tone that Kise was now speaking in, annoyingly distasteful. "I'd hoped that he would be there to teach me, but instead, I was assigned to Kurokocchi."

"The Shadow was your mentor?" Kasamatsu's expression darkened. Well, that did explain Kise's attachment to him. "What was it like?"

"He was terrible," Kise chuckled, "I'd never seen worse. I quickly began to catch up to everyone, but whenever I watched him fight…I was just horrified and annoyed with how bad he was."

Truly, Kise had been appalled by Kuroko's lack of ability. Word had already been spreading about these supposed child-soldiers of Teiko, who were strong beyond their years, and who walked among men, and he had been excited to see if the rumours were true.

Kuroko had been an unbearable disappointment. His skill with any kind of weapon was unremarkable, seeming almost below average at best, and Kise had come to believe that Kuroko was really only there to act as a serving boy for the rest of them.

But, even if he wasn't a soldier, Kuroko was probably the first friend he had ever made outside of the castle, and on the evening that Kise had found himself included in the ranks of those who would one day be the Commanders, he dragged him to the city.

At the city gates, Kise had been enthusiastically greeted by none other than Aomine himself. He'd smiled at him, slung an arm around him like they were already friends, and said that he was really glad to see him fight. Kise had smiled back then, a little unsure, and the three of them together had headed into the city to visit a festival that was on that night.

"The first part of my dream, that I remember…was the festival," Kise murmured, frowning to himself and his eyes unfocused on the horizon, "We saw Midorimacchi, and he got annoyed that I didn't recognise him…" He chuckled to himself, "…And we played all kinds of games –the ones with prizes; you know the kind?" He didn't check to see if his captain nodded or not, "Kurokocchi won bells in one of the games –the kind that the gypsy girls wear, you know? We all got so excited…" He smiled, and turned to face his captain, whose expression was even more solemn than usual, but curious. "…And it was then that I kind of thought, 'Wow…I belong with these people'. It was nice."

"It sounds it," Kasamatsu muttered distantly.

" –There was a thief, in the dream, too," Kise continued, "He knocked over Momoicchi, and Aominecchi and I chased him. He might have gotten away as well, but Midorimacchi had his bow with him, and shot a huge roast down from where it was hanging, and it hit him on the head…" He laughed, but again Kasamatsu heard the sadness hidden behind the sound. "And afterwards, when the thief was caught…Kurokocchi, he said…" He paused, and he looked down at his hands, clenching the fence tightly.

"…He said we all worked so well together," he whispered, "…He said that that was part of what being a part of a kingdom was all about; having people that could stand beside you. And we all smiled, and were happy."

"And that's what you dreamed of last night?" Kasamatsu inquired, and found to his surprise that his voice was unusually soft. Kise nodded, but he didn't really expect his captain to understand.

"I'd forgotten that I'd felt like that."

Through the years, he'd had dreams of what could have been, but only recently had he begun recalling them wistfully, as though they were real. He wondered what could have become of them –if Kuroko would have married Momoi, as was intended; if Midorima's iciness would have melted, if the storm could have subsided, and if a child would have matured. And would Aomine…what would have become of him?

But they were dreams; dreams where he had been sitting on one of the stone benches in a marble courtyard in the Centre, watching a beautiful woman in white wed a man with soft, electric blue eyes. In that dream, Kise would be sitting with a green-haired man to one side, and a dark-skinned to the other. Both of them would be smiling, and one of them would be smiling at him.

They were fantasies and nothing more, but last night that memory had resurfaced –that and one other –and Kise couldn't, for the life of him, understand why those memories had sprung to mind unbidden.

He is the opposite of you and I, Aomine had said to him, once; when Kise had finally asked him why on earth Kuroko was so highly ranked in the army when it was obvious he lacked any kind of normal skill. …But in battle, there's no one I'd trust more with my life.

When finally, Kise had fought alongside Kuroko in a skirmish, he found out why.

"Kurokocchi said a lot of things to me," Kise commented with a sigh, allowing himself a small smile at the fact that Kasamatsu had listened to him talk and hadn't hit him in the duration of his story, "…And I never really listened to them while we fought alongside each other. He said things like 'What's important in a kingdom, is thinking what you can do for it' and then sometimes he would add, 'And some men believe that what they can do, is die for it', and I would never understand that sacrifice."

Kasamatsu was stunned to hear the serious way that Kise was suddenly speaking. It was foreign to him, hearing the Mirror; the ever-playful Prince of the Sun talking so solemnly, and about his past, too. Usually, if he spoke of Kuroko, it was with a laugh, and if of Aomine, with a voice touched by admiration, and something else. But this strange, sad tone…something seemed to have changed him.

"At the end of my dream…" Kise continued with a small frown, "It changed, and I was on the field where I first fought with Kurokocchi. I'd been fighting, and it was obvious that we were losing. Our captain called me back, and told me that Kurokocchi would be joining me in the fight. And…in my dream, he said exactly what he said to me back then." His frown softened into a small, fond smile.

"Please lend me your strength, he said," Kise murmured, "And I was confused, but then he smiled at me, and said, I am a shadow. The light that will save us is you, Kise-kun." Kasamatsu's eyes softened, and he laid a hand on Kise's shoulder. The Mirror did seem to be more sensitive these days; it seemed as though encountering his old allies was having more of an effect on him than he had anticipated.

"That was the only time he ever said that to me," he admitted quietly, "I'd forgotten. And it was nice to be the light."

" –I don't like to see you like this," Kasamatsu commented gruffly, unable to look the other man in the eye for fear of realising how emotional he sounded. Kise just chuckled, and removed the rough hand from his shoulder; appreciating the kind gesture.

"I'm okay," he assured him, "It was just a dream, after all…" He averted his eyes with a small pout, "It's just…thinking about the past these days…after seeing them again…it makes me sad, I guess…" His expression brightened again, and Kasamatsu was almost relieved to see that the joy was seeping back into his eyes again. " –Don't worry, Kasamatsu, sir, I'll be back to normal in no time!"

"Great…" Kasamatsu rolled his eyes, feigning irritation when he was actually relieved. "But…it's strange that you should have a dream like that last night…"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Late last night, we received word that Seirin is making to march against Touou."

"What?" Kise exclaimed in horror, "They're…they're really going to fight them? It's too early, sir! There's no way –"

"I'm well aware that it is a dangerous decision," Kasamatsu rumbled, his expression hardening once more as he recalled previous skirmishes with Touou over the years. "The desert births a dangerous breed of men, but heading into the south would have been even more foolish, still." Kise fell into an uneasy disquiet at these words, knowing them to be true.

"They'll be destroyed," he whispered, just when Kasamatsu had believed that he would speak no more on the matter, "Sir…"

"I know," he retorted shortly, "They may have heart, but you can't conquer kingdoms with only that. But that's the way of this land –you should know that better than anyone."

"Why does it have to be that way?" Kise complained childishly, biting his lip, "They're the ones who want to live the most, why do they –"

"Kise, you said yourself only a few minutes ago that you can't imagine sacrificing yourself for the good of the kingdom," Kasamatsu interrupted sternly, "Men are selfish with life. Few men are truly willing to die for something. Seirin wants to live no more than any of us."

"Then…is there anything you would die for, sir?" Kise asked quietly, though his voice was curious. Kasamatsu turned to look at him searchingly, wondering at the question. But no matter how hard he glared back, Kise just batted those golden eyes at him, expecting an answer.

"I don't know," he finally replied, dropping his gaze, "Men can say such things, but they'll never know if it's the truth until faced with death."

"…You say some scary things, sir…" Kise remarked in a small, teasing tone that made Kasamatsu glare at him crossly. Suddenly, his tone changed, and his brow creased delicately. "...Say, sir…do you know the story of the man who fell in love with fire?"

"Of course I know it," he replied quizzically, "Every child knows it. Why?"

"It was Aominecchi's favourite story," Kise explained softly, "He always wanted to be that fire; that untouchable, untameable fire that devoured the world. And that's what he became. And now, no one can stop that fire –"

" –Kise –"

"Just like no one can hold back the storm, and nothing can stop the sun rising!" he interrupted, "Kasamatsu, sir, is it so wrong that I don't want to see Seirin perish in those flames?" Kasamatsu sighed heavily, shaking his head. What had gotten into Kise these days?

"Kise, kingdoms rise and fall all the time. Whether it is now, by Touou, or some day in the future, Seirin will likely be destroyed," he muttered, and found his own words tinged with bitterness at the realisation. Strange. It was unlike him to feel any sense of sorrow upon hearing of another kingdom's demise.

"I don't want that –"

"Kise, don't be a child!"

"I'm not!" Kise snapped, gritting his teeth and eyes flashing with vehemence that Kasamatsu had never seen before. Suddenly, he was dead serious; his mouth set in a firm line and his fists clenched. "Sir…you say that men are selfish with life…but I know that's not necessarily true. Kagamicchi and Kurokocchi…I know that they are willing to give their lives against Touou, if that's the price. And Aominecchi will take nothing less." He paused, and Kasamatsu saw a flash of fear cross the blonde's face at the thought of the Shadow's life ending at the hand of one who had once been his friend.

"Aren't you tired of war, sir?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're older than me, sir," Kise muttered, "You don't think I listen, but I remember you saying that you've been fighting since you can remember. I had a childhood of privilege; one of peace, so I don't know what that's like. Do you…do you want the fighting to end?"

"…What I want has nothing to do with it," Kasamatsu snorted, "I realised that long ago. Just because I wish for something, doesn't mean that I'll be granted it. The war will never end."

"I thought that too," he whispered, "But there are people out there –some people –who don't believe that. They believe in peace and unity. And I want to believe in them now. People like that could change this land."

Like how they changed me.

Kise barely knew what was going on in his head these days, and it seemed as though Kasamatsu was clueless as well, judging by the expression he was wearing. Maybe it was his pondering the past and futures that might have been, but for some reason, these days he always imagined them in times of peace.

But peace was something hard-won by war, and could never be attained if those who believed it could be grasped were dead.

"Kagamicchi saved my life," Kise tried again, his voice quieter but no less firm. "Seirin faced us when we did not see them as equals and defeated us." Kasamatsu could not argue with that. "…They faced Shutoku, and Seiho, and –"

"Then they may yet defeat Touou," the captain snorted, though there was little trace of faith in his words. "If they can stand as equals and summon such miracles against –"

"Sir…" Kise interrupted, "…I know you've seen Kagamicchi, and Kurokocchi…but I know the skills of Aominecchi far better than you. I don't know if Seirin and Touou are equals…" He paused.

"…At least, not yet."

"Kise…"

Here we are, meeting once more.

The past was gone. All that had happened had happened, and Midorima would say that that was the will of the Gods. But Kuroko was right. By their power or some other, they had come together again, and though he wished that things could have been different in the past, it was truly possible, now, that things could be different in the future.

"Kise, they are our enemy," Kasamatsu growled with a sigh, feeling as weary as he usually did after extensive conversing with the blonde, "And we already left them alone to grow once."

"We did indeed," Kise shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets and beginning to walk away from his captain with an air of disappointment, "…And they toppled a labyrinth, cornered a hunter and burned a forest. Imagine what they might yet be capable of." He didn't hear Kasamatsu reply, so kept on walking –that was, until he heard a soft mutter. Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder to find Kasamatsu staring up into the deep blue sky.

"…Could they defeat a demon?" he repeated, upon feeling golden eyes upon him. Kise's face returned to the mask he so often liked to hide behind, but his eyes were filled with thoughts of possibilities, and he was smiling, even if only because he had no answer.

"Just imagine."

It was a warm day in the lands just west of the Centre, but the approaching summer had never felt so cold. The greying tents, sun-bleached by years in the harsh desert sun flapped in the soft breeze that had been, until only moments ago, pleasantly cool. Now it was like ice.

A shadow seemed to pass through the encampment, despite the sun still being high, and men turned aside their gazes. The smell of old blood was in the air; that, and an atmosphere filled with malice.

"Aomine, we were wondering where you were," an oily, sly voice remarked lightly, as the blood-stained man approached the fire where a small, wide-eyed man was busy cooking. "The blood doesn't belong to you, I assume?"

"Does it ever?" Aomine muttered in a dead voice. If he was aware of how even his comrades shrank back as he stalked past, then he didn't care. Imayoshi Shoichi, the raven-haired man who had just spoken, could see without much trouble that Aomine Daiki, their champion, was uninjured, though there was blood staining his bare arms and chest. The man busy cooking, Sakurai Ryou, seemed to sense Aomine's approach, and his hands began shaking unbidden.

Without waiting to be served, Aomine's tanned hand reached forwards, heedless of the flames of the fire or the heat of the meat, and yanked a piece of flesh from the cooking carcass. Sakurai trembled, watching as the dried blood on Aomine's hand was completely washed away by the flames.

"What are you waiting for?" he growled impatiently, hand outstretched for a bowl of broth as he chewed loudly and reached back into the fire to steal another piece of meat.

"I –I'm sorry," Sakurai stammered, scuttling backwards as quickly as he could and nearly toppling over in his hurry to acquire a fresh bowl to serve him. "I…W-we didn't expect to see you back so soon, A-Aomine; I'm sorry..." He received no response but a cold, bored stare that made his blood stick in his veins, and his hands were shaking so badly he spilt hot broth on himself several times before he managed to hold out the bowl to Aomine.

Uncaring for the heat of the soup or its container, Aomine took it, yanking more meat –far more than his fair share –from the dead beast on the fire, and headed over to find a bench to sit at. His comrades, though cutthroats and bandits and most dangerous men of the north, immediately cleared him a spot.

"Y-You're welcome…" Sakurai whispered, bowing at Aomine's back respectfully.

"…Did you say something?" Aomine inquired coldly, glancing back over his shoulder at the quaking archer. Sakurai hurriedly shook his head, wringing his burned hands and dropping his gaze. Imayoshi, the tall, raven-haired Captain of Touou, laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"It's fine, Sakurai," he murmured quietly, "It seems that something or someone did well enough at entertaining him for the meantime."

"I don't like it…" A tall, broad man remarked from nearby, arms folded and expression grim as he too watched Aomine sitting there. "…Him being in the camp while Momoi's away. He makes the men uncomfortable."

"No need to worry, Susa," Imayoshi assured his second-in-command, "…She should be back soon. I believe she wandered into the south, seeking information…and isn't that her job, after all?"

"…I suppose so," Susa muttered gruffly, but did not go so far as to relax. Imayoshi's sharp eyes noticed this, but didn't blame him. The desert wasteland of the Kingdom of Bones was by no means a kind place –it was home to all manner of giant, dangerous creatures, not to mention factions of bandits and thieves and dishonest men (many of whom belonged to Touou's army) –but even veteran fighters had been reintroduced to fear upon meeting Aomine Daiki.

"Ryou," Aomine growled, without looking back. Sakurai jumped at the sound of his name falling from those devilish lips, and stared in shock as the bowl, which had only moments before, been filled with scalding broth, was held out for more. His big eyes bulging with nerves, he glanced up at Imayoshi for advice, since the swordsman had already had his share and more. Imayoshi shook his head firmly. Demon, he might be, but there were selfish cutthroats and cruel men in the ranks of the Touou army, and favouritism was not looked upon kindly –even for a Commander.

If he granted Aomine too many privileges, there would be outcry, and it wouldn't do to have an army of men killing each other for an extra bowl of soup. And Imayoshi knew that there were certain times –times when someone else had been used as an outlet for Aomine's boredom and cold rage –that he could be almost reasoned with.

Aomine's head turned, seeing that no one was approaching to collect his empty bowl.

"Ryou," he repeated darkly.

"Aomine," Imayoshi growled back warningly as Sakurai quivered and wrung his shaking hands; eyes cast to the ground for fear that Aomine's cold eyes burn him. Slowly, Aomine got to his feet, taking his bowl, and walking towards the huge pot of broth still boiling. Ignoring his captain and his fellows, he helped himself to another serving.

"Aomine, that's enough!" a loud voice snapped aggressively from somewhere behind him.

"Wakamatsu, don't –" Imayoshi shot out warningly, easily recognising the voice of another of his officers. Too late, a broad, white-blonde haired man with a thick vein pulsing in his forehead had attracted Aomine's attention.

"Stop thinking that you can just come walking back into camp and cause trouble after disappearing for weeks," Wakamatsu Kosuke snarled, stalking forwards –more brawn than brains, it appeared. "You're freaking the crap out of Sakurai and you don't have any right to –" Aomine's gaze turned to him; flashing with ice and annoyance, but Wakamatsu didn't back down.

"We're fighting a fucking war, Aomine, you piece of shit," he growled angrily, "You can't just go wandering off whenever you feel like it! You should be back here, training with the rest of us!" He made to yanked the bandit forwards by the vest he was wearing, but Aomine swiftly snatched his wrist mid-air before he managed to.

That was when a trace of fear crossed over Wakamatsu's face. Aomine leaned in, murderous intent written across his face, and his lips turned up into a disgusted sneer.

"I might forgive you this once, for trying to touch me," he hissed, and Wakamatsu shivered; all boldness vanished from him. He locked eyes with Imayoshi for a moment, and his captain just shook his head. For a moment there, as Aomine watched him carefully, he believed that he was going to be spared. And then Aomine's lips tightened, and suddenly Wakamatsu gave a wild yell, toppling to the grass and letting out yelps of pain as the Demon sloshed scalding broth all down his chest.

Scoffing, Aomine sank a heel into Wakamatsu's sternum as the officer writhed in pain on the ground.

"…Maybe I'll let you lecture me about training when you're as strong as me," Aomine growled, smirking in almost amusement at the way that Wakamatsu gripped the ground in a desperate attempt to not try and pry the bare foot from his chest. And then, before the very eyes of all the men present, that foot was removed, and in one fluid motion, Aomine, sneering coldly, and blue eyes as dead as stone, drew his sword, and swiftly beheaded three men in a single stroke, before flinging the blade directly towards his captain.

Even before those three, dead trunks fell, the blade sank into the wooden pole behind Imayoshi, a nail's breadth above his skull. Imayoshi didn't so much as blink as Sakurai shrank back, with Susa stepping in front of him, should Aomine try anything more. But the Demon did nothing. No one did anything –didn't even more to check on the headless bodies of the men who had been their comrades. The soldiers of Touou were not known for their compassion or bonds of comradeship.

"…Not that you ever will be."

That was all Aomine said, before he turned and stalked from the clearing; not bothering to retrieve his blade, and not even sparing a second glance at the men he had just killed in cold blood. Wakamatsu watched him go with astonishment and terror written across his face. He'd heard rumours before that Aomine Daiki was known to sometimes kill his own men when he was particularly bored or opposed…but he had never seen it with his own eyes until just now.

…The ease with which he had severed their heads from their bodies was utterly inhuman, and the cool disinterest with which he had taken their lives…it was terrifying.

It was true about the Commanders. They truly were monsters.

Grey clouds were gathering as the sun set, marring the red of the evening sky and making the fading light seem darker than usual. Kagami heard the wind tearing at his tent, and rolled over agitatedly, unable to sleep for the pounding of his heart.

Every time he closed his eyes, the darkness would be filled with flashes of blue, and he would feel the cold of something demonic seep back into his bones, only to be chased away by the heat of the fight. He would hear words whispered to him, soft but with a voice that made his skin crawl –would feel a breath against his cheek that hissed those words. That breath would be warm, but he shivered every time, because it reminded him that Aomine Daiki was just another human man, like him.

And though that knowledge made his blood run cold, it also heartened him, because men…men could be killed.

He closed his eyes again; letting out a short breath and trying to get comfortable on his low bed. Almost as soon as his eyelids sank closed, the face of Aomine Daiki flashed before him; a shadow lingering on the plains with his blood –Kagami's blood –dripping from his hands. In his mind's eye, he watched as, in a flash of dust and a blur of blue, Aomine disappeared.

How was he so impossibly fast?

Even at the hands of defeat, he had been, and was, in awe of such strength.

But he had to match it. He had to match and exceed it. It was the only way.

"…Kagami-kun," Kuroko's soft voice commented, and Kagami sat up, rubbing his eyes still weary from lack of sleep. Kuroko was standing at the entrance of his tent expectantly. "…Prepare yourself. Our march on the army of Touou is about to begin."

"Finally," Kagami grunted, dragging himself to his feet and cricking his neck violently. He held out a fist to Kuroko, and the smaller man lightly bumped his own against it.

"Can you feel it? The fight in the air?" Kuroko inquired, peering upwards, as though able to see the grey clouds through the thin fabric of the tent. "The Centre lies close, Kagami-kun."

"…As does Aomine," the redhead added, his voice thick with excitement and determination. Kuroko glanced across at him and saw that Kagami's brow was set in a hard line and his teeth locked in a feral grimace. Already, there was fire pouring into his veins, it seemed, and there was no trace of weariness in his face or limbs. And somehow, that fire filled Kuroko with a kind of strength and hope that he had missed –and which he knew they would desperately need.

"Yes…" Kuroko whispered quietly, "…As does Aomine-kun."

I know, I know, not so much about Kagami and Kuroko this chapter... but in the next, Seirin makes its advance upon the army of Touou! How will they fare against an army of cutthroats and hardened fighters from the desert of the Kingdom of Bones? Can Kagami find the strength to stand against the might of the Demon? What is Kise's will, and will Kasamatsu listen? And what will Kuroko see when he looks upon his old light?

Hope you liked! See you next chapter, hopefully!
Much love
xx K