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There are four years that fall between the lines of when it begins and where it will inevitably end, casual tips of the hat in acknowledgement of the game they’ve played out thus far. Aomine takes his first step out of university unsatisfied and drained of all the momentum that he’d gathered up from his years spent in secondary education, falls back into a family connection at an office job that he neither likes nor dislikes. The theory of getting picked up by a professional team is a bygone that he associates with the limp in his left leg, and this is how he meets Kasamatsu, in the streets between an alley under a stone-grey sky. It is only when Kasamatsu returns the greeting that it becomes a moment of fate rivaling Midorima’s School of Illogical Philosophy. Aomine decides then that this is perhaps a worthy pursuit.
“Because I’m self-destructive,” is how he justifies it. “I’ve been like that since high school.”
“But you know nothing about me,” Kasamatsu replies. He orders an americano over the counter of the coffee shop. “This is the first time that I’ve seen you in maybe six years. I’m surprised you even remember my name.”
Aomine smiles at him, then. He is willing to smile more, these days. “You dated Kise in college, didn’t you? Why don’t you spare me some of your affection, too.”
Kasamatsu considers it. His coffee cup sits warm between his fingers, and Aomine notices that Kasamatsu’s fingers are actually rather long and lovely to look at. “Will you promise me something, then? Just one thing, Aomine-kun.”
“Just one thing.”
“Promise me that this will be worth my effort. Stay with me for as long as you can.”
Aomine snorts. “You say it like you’re gonna be the one relying on me,” he tells Kasamatsu, “which is a fucking lie. You are the only one who can break your own heart.”