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Watching Tetsu on the court is still a bit of a surreal experience after playing beside him for three years. Playing against him had felt… sort of wrong, but Daiki never allowed himself to think about it for too long. He just had to get through the game as usual, except with the added nuisance of Kagami and Tetsu's tag team.
They were strong, but in the end, they still couldn’t beat him. They still weren’t enough. At the time, Daiki had looked down on them with scorn, knowing that Tetsu would never be as strong with Kagami as he had been with Daiki.
Daiki has always been able to keep track of Tetsu on the court when his opponents and sometimes even his teammates would lose him. The same is true even now when he’s in the stands, and seeing Tetsu from the spectator’s perspective, watching him in his element, Daiki feels almost proud and… kind of nostalgic. Kind of a lot nostalgic.
It's been a long time since he's had any fun playing basketball. He almost can’t imagine that he ever loved basketball, but he did, he does, it’s just. Different now. He can’t enjoy it anymore, though he longs for the days that he did--or maybe it’s Tetsu he misses. The two have always been tangled up together in Daiki’s mind. All he knows for sure is that at this point, loving basketball is a distant memory, at the center of which is Tetsu.
At the center of everything is Tetsu.
The game ends. Seirin wins, and Daiki scolds himself for the little flash of pride he feels. He doesn't care about them.
But he cares about Tetsu, and as he watches Kagami tackle Tetsu in a hug and Tetsu hug back, Daiki tries very hard not to feel bitter. This fails when the hug goes on for far longer than Daiki feels is necessary. The way Kagami is stooped to pull Tetsu close to him, his hand buried in Tetsu's hair, the way Tetsu is pressing his face into Kagami's neck... No, no. It's all too close. Much too close.
Because Daiki can’t seem to help but torture himself, he watches until they finally part, and oh. Tetsu stretches up on his tiptoes to kiss Kagami's cheek, and Daiki's fists clench so tightly his knuckles go white.
Well, there hasn't been anything definitely romantic yet, Daiki thinks to himself. Don't jump to conclusions.
Yet he can't help but recall how reserved Tetsu is with physical contact, giving even more so than receiving. Daiki knows. He's been on both ends.
It’s clear to him that Tetsu and Kagami are more than just partners on the court. They’re a lot closer than Daiki anticipated, and that makes him feel uneasy.
Tetsu and Kagami have stopped hugging, but they’re still too close, their arms visibly touching. It makes Daiki’s stomach turn, but he can’t stop staring at them. Only when the people next to him in the stands begin to clear out does he turn away to leave.
“Everything okay, Dai-chan?” Satsuki asks, and Daiki starts; he forgot she was here with him.
“Huh,” he grunts. “Uh, yeah.”
He looks past her, unwilling to meet her eyes for fear that she’ll see something there that he doesn’t want her to see. There’s something about the way she’ll look at him with scrutiny, her brows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a tiny frown, that makes him feel like she can see right through him.
“Tetsu and Kagami are getting pretty close, huh?” he says.
“Yeah,” Satsuki says carefully. “They’re together now, after all.”
“Oh.” He swallows. “Yeah--can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Are you okay?”
He doesn’t even need to look at her to feel her piercing stare.
“Yeah,” Daiki says. “Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He clears his throat. “It’s getting pretty stuffy in here. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
He tries not to make a big deal out of it, but he ends up speed-walking out of the stadium. Satsuki has to trot to keep up with him. Daiki usually teases her for it, but right now, he’s just determined to put as much distance as he can between himself and Tetsu and… Kagami. Tetsu and Kagami. A set. Together now.
“I know how close you and Tetsu-kun were before,” Satsuki puffs out. “He didn’t want you to know yet.”
Now Daiki slows his pace and looks at Satsuki. “What, he asked you not to tell me?”
Yeah, Daiki will admit it; he’s a bit hurt. They’re best friends. You’re supposed to tell your best friends when you start dating someone, right?
“Is this really something you would have wanted to know?” Satsuki asks, peering at him.
Well. They were best friends. Now, he’s not sure what they are. Even though they’ve drifted apart, Daiki has never really stopped considering them best friends--but that doesn’t mean Tetsu hasn’t.
It’s so obvious, but the realization almost makes him stumble. He waves Satsuki off when she makes a noise of concern, and sighs.
“I dunno if I wanted to know, but I needed to know,” he says.
Satsuki pokes his arm, hard. “No, you didn’t,” she says. “It’s really none of your business what Tetsu-kun does.”
But it is his business, Daiki thinks, rubbing his arm, when Tetsu is probably his soulmate.
He can’t know for certain--no one can ever really know for certain, until the end, and Daiki’s hand reflexively goes to his back, where the last words his soulmate will ever say to him are inked across his skin--but Daiki has a feeling. It’s him and Tetsu. It’s always been them. They hit a bump along the way, but it’ll work itself out.
They turn a corner. Satsuki is staring at him in a mixture of anger and concern. “Anyway, he just told me not to tell you unless you asked, and you basically asked, so.”
“Well, it’s good to know.”
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Satsuki says. “This is why I didn’t want you to know.”
“Oi, wait, now you’re the one who didn’t want me to know?” Betrayed twice.
“It was a collective decision!” Satsuki defends. “I was just afraid you wouldn’t take it well.”
“Well, I’m taking it,” Daiki says. Well. I’m taking it well, is what he was supposed to say, but the last word won’t come out, or moved to the front of his sentence instead. It did something, alright.
Satsuki raises an eyebrow at him.
“Whatever,” Daiki says. “It’s not a big deal. Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.”
Satsuki is not fooled; she puffs her cheeks out and pouts in a way that’s not cute and has never been cute (he was very sleepy when he said it was, years ago, and no one should be held accountable for the things they say when sleepy, okay).
“Alright,” she says, because in the end she’s a sweetheart no matter what she says and no matter how much tough love she shows to Daiki. They’ve been friends since they were little kids, and he’s always been her soft spot. “Maji Burger?”
Daiki begins to agree, then thinks about how Tetsu and Kagami both frequent the burger joint and shakes his head. “Let’s go to your favorite today.”
Satsuki squints at him. “Okay.” Daiki feels tense, but then she adds, “Will you pay for me?” and somehow he feels better.
“Sure.”
Satsuki does a little cheer and loops her arm around Daiki’s and makes him walk faster down the sidewalk. “Let’s go!”
Daiki lets himself be led, but he can’t help but throw one last glance over his shoulder in the general direction of the stadium they’ve left behind.
Daiki is handling it. How well is debatable, but he’s handling it. Hell, he got through a meal and a walk home with Satsuki without her doing more than squinting and sighing at him every once in a while, so he figures he’s doing okay.
He just wants to have a civil chat with Tetsu about it. To clear the air between them, or something like that. Definitely not to steal Tetsu away from his new man.
Talk. That’s all.
So that’s why Daiki is skulking around outside Seirin High’s gymnasium. He paces for a good five minutes, wondering what to say and how to say it, before telling himself to stop overthinking it and just head into the locker room already.
In some sort of cosmic joke, the locker room is empty except for a damp Kagami, who is completely naked except for a small towel wrapped around his waist. Great. The very last person Daiki wants to see, and he’s shoving his pecs and abs in Daiki’s face like, look what Tetsu gets, they’re so much more impressive than yours, aren’t they?
For the record, Daiki totally has better abs than Kagami.
“What are you doing here?” Kagami asks.
Daiki sneers. He’s not about to tell Kagami that he’s looking for his boyfriend. His boyfriend who Kagami doesn’t deserve at all.
Kagami’s shoulders, chest, arms, legs (that Daiki can see) are blank. Daiki crosses the space between them in a few broad strides, grabs Kagami’s shoulders, and spins him around.
“What the hell?” Kagami demands, trying to turn back, but Daiki holds him in place as his eyes skim from the back of his neck, down his back and legs.
“Where is it?” Daiki demands. Maybe he missed something on the front. He turns Kagami around again, grabs one of his hands and examines his wrist. It could be small, like Tetsu’s--
“Dude, what are you doing?!” Kagami asks, clutching at his falling towel with his other hand. Daiki’s eyes lock on it.
“It’s on your dick!” he declares, lunging for the towel and whipping it off.
“DUDE.”
It’s not on his dick. Daiki knows this now, but at what cost?
“What the fuck, man?” Kagami shoves Daiki, and he stumbles back. He covers his dick with his hands, though Daiki’s not sure what the point is anymore since he’s already seen it. A lot more closely than he ever wanted to, actually. “What’s your problem?”
“You’re a Blank,” Daiki realizes. “You’re a fucking Blank.”
Kagami demeanor shifts into something more defensive, and he hunches his shoulders. “Yeah? So what?”
“So!” Daiki barks out a laugh. “You’re a Blank, and--you and Tetsu and--oh, man. Okay. Sure.”
Kagami scowls at him. “What about Kuroko?”
“Yes, what about me? Kagami-kun, why are you naked?”
Both of them whip their heads to the door, which Daiki definitely didn’t hear open. Sure enough, Tetsu is standing just inside the locker room, observing them both with a raised eyebrow.
“Shit!” Kagami says. “I’m gonna. Put some clothes on.”
“Take your time,” Daiki says, crossing over to Tetsu and pulling him along after him. “Tetsu and I are gonna have a little talk outside.”
“Should I be concerned that I found you with Kagami-kun with him naked?” Tetsu asks once they’re standing on the other side of the doors, but he sounds more amused than anything.
“I’ve seen his dick one time too many,” Daiki says.
Tetsu snorts, but sobers up quickly. “Why did you come here today, Aomine-kun?”
“I--was looking for you, actually,” Daiki says. “More importantly, did you know your boyfriend is a Blank?”
“You mean Kagami-kun?” Tetsu asks.
“Um, yes, unless you have another boyfriend I don’t know about.”
“I know Kagami-kun is a Blank,” Tetsu says, calm as ever.
“But,” Daiki sputters. He was expecting surprise or--well, something. Not I already know, because if he does, why are they dating?
He grabs Tetsu’s left arm and pushes the sleeve up to reveal the small phrase on his wrist. I love you, it says. Short. Simple. There.
Tetsu looks at the words, then up at Daiki.
“You’re Marked,” Daiki says.
“I’m aware.”
He can’t believe he has to spell it out for Tetsu. “Kagami is a Blank. There’s no way he can be your soulmate.”
But I could be, he doesn’t say.
But Tetsu just meets his gaze steadily and says, “I know.”
Daiki is flabbergasted.
“Don’t you care?” he asks. “What about your soulmate?”
“Why are you so concerned, Aomine-kun?” Tetsu asks. His tone is casual, but it’s a challenge nonetheless. There’s a fire burning in his eyes that not a lot of people can see, but Daiki can. He’s always seen it.
Daiki’s been cornered now. He draws in a breath. “Well--I’m just saying,” he says. “You and I could be soulmates, you know. I have a mark. And in middle school we were pretty… you know.”
Tetsu arches an eyebrow. He’s being particularly infuriating today, making Daiki force all the words out. Daiki has never been very good with words.
“We were… really good. Together.”
“I see.”
Daiki is floundering. “I just--”
The locker room door opens, and Kagami steps out, fully clothed and with his bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey,” he says, glancing between them. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Tetsu says. “We just finished.”
He turns and starts walking away. Kagami glances at Daiki for only a moment before falling into step with Tetsu. A couple steps later and their hands have found each other. It sends a discomfiting feeling to the pit of his stomach.
Daiki doesn’t get it. Why is Tetsu wasting time with a Blank?
He brings his hand behind him and skims his fingers over the small of his back. I feel the same. Those are the words written there. His mark. He’s never let anyone see it, has never quite trusted anyone with his back, not even Tetsu, though he’s put Tetsu’s hand on his back, run the tips of Tetsu’s fingers over where Daiki knows the letters are.
Knowing the last words your soulmate will ever say to you doesn’t do much to help you find them, but at least having words at all means you know you have a soulmate, and it can’t be a fucking Blank.
Tetsu has a soulmate. Even if it's not me--but come on, it's probably me--he should know that anything with Kagami will only be temporary.
Daiki stuffs his hands into his pockets and scuffs the ground with his shoe. He feels like he's missing something, something Tetsu expects him to get but doesn't want to explain. Like he expects him to know better.
Tetsu of all people should know how hard it is for Daiki to connect with other people. Then again, he supposes he never really had that problem with Tetsu.
Just tell me what I'm supposed to do, he thinks irritably.
He misses Tetsu a lot. It’s not something he likes to admit a lot, even to himself, but it’s true. He remembers Tetsu, and all he can think is it wasn’t supposed to be like this. How did things sour so much between them? Why is Tetsu so cold now?
Okay. To be fair, Daiki was kind of a dick their last encounter, when they played against each other. But that was different! That was basketball. There’s still… them. Isn’t there? It’s going to work out.
It’s supposed to work out.
“Satsuki,” Daiki says, staring at his ceiling, “I need you to tell me more about Tetsu and Kagami’s… thing.”
Even through the phone, Daiki can feel her glare.
“Dai-chan! Did you assault Kagamin? Naked?”
“What? No!” Daiki exclaims. “I mean. Maybe a little. I mean--did you know he’s a Blank?”
“Dai-chan!” she screeches, and Daiki pulls the phone away from his ear with a wince. He can still hear her yelling faintly through the speaker. “That is personal information! Honestly, I guess it was too much to hope that you would be mature about this!”
“Sorry, okay!” he yells back. He’s not really sorry, because finding out Kagami is a Blank was pretty fucking important, but Satsuki would yell at him some more if he said that, so he admits, grudgingly, “It was a--moment of weakness.”
He brings the phone back to his ear and rubs his temple. This wasn’t a good idea at all. What was he thinking?
He wasn’t thinking, of course. When does he ever, when it comes to Tetsu?
That’s why, instead of just hanging up, he says, “So… can you tell me about them?”
Satsuki lets out an aggravated sigh. “You know I’m just worried about you, right? You’re torturing yourself.”
“Says who?” Daiki asks.
Satsuki takes a minute to respond. Finally, she says, “Is this going to help give you closure? If I tell you about them?”
“Uh, yeah,” Daiki says. “Sure.”
“Hmm…” Satsuki is doubtful. Daiki is not surprised, given how bad he knows he is at lying, but she indulges him anyway, asking, “What do you want to know?”
“I dunno,” Daiki says. He turns so he’s lying on his side on his bed, staring listlessly now at the wall instead of the ceiling. “When they started dating, how they started dating.”
“They got together,” Satsuki says pointedly, but Daiki’s not sure why she’s stressing the word so much, “about a month ago, I think. I don’t know exactly when. I think Tetsu-kun approached Kagamin.”
“Wait, Tetsu did? You sure it wasn’t the other way around?”
“Pretty sure.”
Okay, now Daiki feels even more betrayed, and he bites his tongue. “Uh, right. Okay. So they go on lots of dates and stuff, huh?”
“No, they’re--they’re a lot like how you and Tetsu-kun were in middle school,” Satsuki says. “They don’t really do anything different, they’re just...closer.”
Daiki’s heart clenches. Like how you and Tetsu-kun were in middle school. Does she have to put it like that? It just makes him feel even more like he’s been replaced.
"Wait, are they even dating?" Daiki asks. Because if they're not--well, then a lot of things are suddenly making sense.
"Well, no," Satsuki says slowly. "But don't get any ideas. They're still together."
"What?” Daiki says. “How does that work?"
“It’s just how they do it,” Satsuki says. “I don’t know all the details, I just know Kagamin doesn’t like Tetsu-kun romantically.”
“I see,” Daiki says. He still doesn’t really get it, but he understands enough. “Thanks for the help, Satsuki.”
“This was for closure, right?” Satsuki asks, voice going sharp. “Closure, Dai-chan. Not sabotage.”
“Yep,” Daiki says, and hangs up. “Totally.”
Daiki tries to be more mature about it, or whatever. He thinks about it for, like, a week in case he’s overreacting. But the week passes and he’s still sure he’s right, so he texts Tetsu to meet him at the basketball court in the park where they used to practice. The familiar territory will help, hopefully.
He brings his basketball, of course, and makes a few lazy shots while he waits for Tetsu.
“Aomine-kun.”
Daiki catches the ball when it comes up from its dribble and turns around. “Hey,” he says, breath catching in his throat.
Tetsu doesn’t smile, nor does he look angry. But his usual neutral expression is just slightly tilted in the direction of sad, and it makes Daiki’s stomach flip.
He had a plan. He was going to build up to his points, but what actually happens is he blurts, “So you and Kagami aren’t actually dating.”
“Kagami isn’t comfortable with that word,” Tetsu says with a light shrug.
“But you like him, right?” Daiki asks. “Like. Romantically.”
Tetsu shrugs again, which, in Tetsu-speak, means yes.
“Kagami really is no good for you, is he?” Daiki says. Maybe Tetsu thinks Kagami is good, but Daiki is better. He feels almost cruel and petty right now, but he’s selfish, and he wants Tetsu back. He wants Tetsu. He wants wants wants--
He starts bouncing the basketball idly. He doesn’t want Tetsu to see how he barely has a lid on his emotions right now, and he says, with forced nonchalance, “His light is dim. He’s a Blank. He can’t--or won’t--even love you back. I mean, I really am better than him in all ways--”
The ball gets knocked out of its path on its way back up to Daiki’s hand, and it flies nearly horizontally until it hits the wire fence at the edge of the court. Tetsu straightens up and glares at him, eyes dark.
“I would appreciate it if you took my relationship with Kagami-kun seriously,” he said quietly. “And since it seems to have slipped your mind, I should remind you that you and I were never in a relationship in the first place.”
“That…” That’s not true, he wants to say, but it is. But it’s not. They were… They were close. He can’t boast more than that and still be telling the truth, and the realization leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
He remembers curling up with Tetsu on either of their couches in either of their homes, falling asleep with Tetsu tucked into the curve of his body, his hair tickling Daiki’s nose, their fingers loosely intertwined.
Tetsu draping himself over Daiki’s back when they’re standing. Daiki turning a playful noogie into a tight hug. Kisses were rare, just soft brushes of the lips when they were both feeling bold enough. The little kisses always sent a thrill down Daiki’s stomach, but they weren’t the best part. The best part was just being next to Tetsu, touching in some way, however subtle. Quiet, understanding. Connected.
They were just--a matched set. Always close. Always together. Together--but never in words. Not like Tetsu and Kagami are now.
When Daiki looks at Tetsu now, it’s like there’s a wall of glass between them. He can still see him, but it’s not as clear. He can’t reach him anymore. There’s an invisible barrier between them that he can’t break through.
Tetsu’s eyes are a carefully controlled blank, but his brows are furrowed just a little, enough to let Daiki know that he’s upset.
“We had something,” Tetsu acknowledges quietly. “But it was never a relationship. And it’s over now, in any case.” His face softens; he no longer looks angry, but the corners of his mouth tug down. “I’m sorry, Aomine-kun. Even if we are soulmates, I wouldn’t just leave Kagami-kun.”
“But--you felt it too, then?” Daiki asks. “I always thought we were soulmates, you know.”
“It’s crossed my mind before.” Tetsu looks away, sighs, and turns back to Daiki again. “But after last year--” Daiki’s heart clenches. “--I thought maybe I was wrong. And then I met Kagami-kun.”
“But he’s a Blank,” Daiki can’t help but point out.
“I know. I don’t care.”
“He’s not your soulmate. He can’t be your soulmate.”
Tetsu looks at Daiki. Anyone would think he was calm, but Daiki knows better. He can see the barely-there tremble of his lip. “Does it matter?”
Yes, Daiki wants to say. Of course it matters. It’s all that matters.
His parents are both Blanks, and their marriage ended years ago in a messy divorce. Daiki’s always thought himself lucky to be Marked, figuring he and his soulmate, whoever it turned out to be, would (unlike his parents) just work. Love was never something he thought he would have to worry about.
And then came Tetsu, and they worked. Maybe his problem was assuming that they always would. Maybe that’s the answer to the question he always finds himself returning to--how did it come to this?
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just wasted both our times today.”
“No,” Tetsu says. “I’m glad you called me. And--I’m sorry.”
Daiki bites his lip. “Me, too.”
They linger for a moment, facing each other, neither of them saying anything.
“I have to go,” Tetsu says eventually, after checking the time on his phone.
“Meeting Kagami?”
Tetsu looks at him guardedly. “Yes.”
Daiki swallows. “Great. Um, have fun.”
“Thank you, Aomine-kun.”
Daiki’s breathing turns shallow as Tetsu stares at him for a moment longer. Neither of them say anything, and finally Tetsu nods and turns to leave. Daiki turns away, unwilling to watch him go.
He’s not ready to go home yet, so he retrieves his basketball from where it’s been sitting by the fence. He glances behind him and tosses the ball over his shoulder, watches it fall through the net. It feels as effortless as he no doubt makes it look.
Daiki stares at his hand and clenches it into a fist.
He and Tetsu could conquer the world together. That’s the problem.
He retrieves the ball, but instead of shooting it again, he just goes to lean against the fence, bouncing the ball idly in front of him.
Daiki always wanted to be the best at basketball, but he never realized how lonely it was at the top. Being the best wasn’t so appealing when it was so effortless, when he so thoroughly crushed the wills of his opponents that they didn’t even want to try, when he wasn’t fighting tooth and nail for his position but rather sitting at the top of a smooth wall no one could hope to scale.
He supposes that’s when it started. The distance.
He started hating basketball and since Tetsu and basketball were inextricably linked, he didn’t know how to interact with Tetsu anymore, either.
So, was it really my fault? he wonders. He hadn’t expected his relationship with Tetsu to suffer so much in consequence, for the rift between them to grow as wide as the court they stood on.
Daiki throws the ball down a little too hard, and it bounces away from him.
Kagami and Tetsu walk by. Tetsu’s holding a milkshake, and Kagami has a popsicle. Their arms are linked, Tetsu leaning into Kagami’s side.
It’s close and intimate and it’s just like when he witnessed the moment on the court--Daiki can’t look away, even as he feels like he’s being gutted.
He and Tetsu had that once. That intimacy. What’s different? What does Kagami have that Daiki doesn’t? Daiki stares and tries to understand.
Tetsu glances over and spots him, then just as quickly turns away again. Kagami notices the shift of his head and turns, meeting Daiki’s eyes for a long moment as they walk by.
Daiki hopes he wasn’t glaring at at Kagami, but he realizes after Kagami turns his attention back to Tetsu that he’s scowling and runs his hand over his face.
“I’m a mess,” he mutters, and stands.
When he stands to go home, he doesn’t bother retrieving his basketball.
“Satsuki,” he mumbles into his phone.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” he says, staring at the ceiling. “I thought I had things figured out.”
“Oh, Dai-chan,” Satsuki sighs. “This is about Tetsu-kun, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t it always?” he grunts. It always goes back to Tetsu.
“Oh, I knew it wasn’t a good idea to tell you! I’m sorry.”
“I would have figured it out eventually anyway,” Daiki says. “It’s… not your fault. It’s not Tetsu’s, either. Or Kagami’s. It’s mine.”
“It’s not your fault either, Dai-chan.”
Daiki laughs humorlessly. “Yes, it is, Satsuki. I did this. I’m the reason we drifted apart. I thought it was enough how we were.”
“Don’t blame yourself for this. Sometimes people just… don’t work out.”
“But we were supposed to work out. We’re soulmates.”
There’s a soft gasp on the other end of the line. “How can you be so sure?”
“I can just tell.” Despite everything, he still feels with conviction they were meant for each other. There’s no one else but Tetsu. Daiki just screwed up their chance together.
He sighs into the mouthpiece. “You don’t have to worry about me, Satsuki. I’m not gonna try and pull anything.”
Because as long as Tetsu’s happy--and he is, he’s not with Daiki but he’s still happy and Daiki has to accept that--then it’s enough. It has to be enough.
“I’m not worried about that,” Satsuki says. “Well--fine, I was, but I’m more worried about you! Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Daiki says. “I--I will be. I have to be. This was… I probably shouldn’t have called. You’re just the only person I can talk to. Now.”
He could talk to Tetsu. Before.
“So that’s it?” Satsuki asks.
“Mm…” Daiki rubs his hand over his lower back. I feel the same. Tetsu hasn’t said that to him (yet?). Nor has Daiki said I love you to Tetsu. He’s never said it to him, actually. Not once. Too scary, if he’s being honest with himself. He always figured Tetsu knew, and that was enough. Now he’s not so sure. Maybe things would have gone differently otherwise.
But even if things might change between them again later, he’s not going to interfere between Tetsu and Kagami--well, not any more than he already has. That’s just a dick move and Daiki has made enough of those lately.
“That’s it,” he says. “For now.”
It’s not like he can do anything else.
All he can do is watch Tetsu and Kagami be close from a distance while wondering what he could have done differently.
And maybe he has to concede that he’s not really better than Kagami in all ways. Well. He's still years ahead of him in basketball, but Kagami seems to get Tetsu better than Daiki did and--honestly? That hurts. A lot.
Daiki finds himself continually revisiting his and Tetsu’s old haunts, as if hoping to spot Tetsu there. Whenever Tetsu is there, though, he's with Kagami.
Of course he is.
Daiki can't remember the last time he saw Tetsu alone. Probably when he called him out to the basketball court. But yeah. Kagami is always there now, and he always notices Daiki. He always looks at him for several seconds before turning away again. Tetsu, on the other hand, never even turns his direction, but he knows Daiki is there, Daiki is sure.
For some reason, it's still pretty unexpected when Daiki exits Maji Burger with a to-go bag of burgers--only twelve this time, because he’s trying not to succumb to stress-eating--and Kagami steps in front of him, alone.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself," Daiki says uncertainly. "What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to you," Kagami says. "Got a minute?"
"Yeah, sure." Daiki follows Kagami as he starts walking. Then, thinking that maybe he should appease Kagami in case he wants to punch him for essentially stalking him and his sort-of boyfriend, Daiki offers him one of his burgers, which Kagami accepts with a bemused expression.
"So, I've been seeing you around a lot," Kagami says slowly.
Yep. Here it is.
"So we happen to hang around the same places," Daiki mutters. "Not my fault."
"Um, yeah, well it's pretty obvious to me you're trying to see Kuroko," Kagami says.
"It's not what you think," Daiki says. He doesn’t want to interfere. He just wants to make sure Tetsu’s happy. It’s a warm sort of hurt in his chest to see Tetsu smile when he's not the one putting the expression on his face.
The important thing, through it all, is that Tetsu is happy, and, whether Daiki likes it or not, he has to acknowledge that now, Kagami is the one making Tetsu happy. Which means if Kagami is upset, Tetsu will probably be upset. And after what a dick Daiki knows he's been, he doesn't blame Kagami for being upset about seeing Daiki show up everywhere he and Tetsu go. So he steels himself and says, "Sorry. You won't see me anymore. I don't want to be a bother."
"Oh, hey, no, I think you're misunderstanding," Kagami says. He offers him a smile. From someone Daiki has had mostly antagonistic encounters with, it's a bit strange to see. "I just wanted to let you know it's okay if you still want to see him. Neither of us intended for you to cut ties completely."
"Wait." Daiki isn't comprehending. "What?"
Kagami sighs. "I’m saying you can still be friends with Kuroko. If you want to, anyway. I know he still does."
"He--does?" Daiki asks. He feels a little more breathless than he'd like to admit. "You don't mind?"
"Yeah, of course he does." Kagami makes eye contact, then breaks it, looking embarrassed. He unwraps the burger Daiki gave him and takes a bite before speaking again. "You guys were best friends, and I know he still cares about you. Even if it's not… in the same way, that doesn’t mean you still can’t have something." He glances at Daiki again. "You love him, huh."
It's not a question, because Daiki is just that transparent, apparently.
"That's why I'm asking if you don't mind. Or why you don’t mind, I guess."
"Oh." Kagami frowns. "Because I know where me and Kuroko stand. I'm not threatened by you, Aomine," he adds with a little laugh. "I just got tired of seeing you moping around like a lost kitten."
"Wha--I am not a kitten!"
"Yeah," Kagami says. "You kind of are. Even Kuroko thinks so."
"Shut up," Daiki mutters, hunching his shoulders, and Kagami laughs again.
"I think we could be friends," he says, "all of us. I'd like that, anyway. So you should talk to Kuroko again."
"I... Okay," Daiki says, not quite believing the chance he's getting. "You're really not mad at me? I'd be mad at me. I'm pretty sure I'd want to punch me, if I were you."
"I was pretty pissed at first," Kagami admits. "But I've been trying to see things from your perspective, I guess? As someone who had a best friend and lost him due to a falling out you don't even really understand… and I was like, yeah, I've been there.”
Kagami looks embarrassed again, and he goes back to his burger while Daiki tries to force out a thank you. Kagami really is a good guy, he realizes. A lot better than Daiki wanted to admit. No wonder Tetsu likes him.
Kagami finishes his burger in a few bites, before Daiki manages to say anything. He crumples the wrapper in his hands and tilts his head at Daiki. "Maybe you can try to think about my perspective, too. I'm a Blank. I've never even liked anyone romantically. I like Kuroko--a lot, but I'm still scared, because it doesn't feel like everyone else says it should feel. I think I can't give him enough, be enough.”
Daiki cringes, remembering himself telling Tetsu as much. Kagami smiles at him crookedly.
“Kuroko says it's okay as long as we're there for each other. Doesn't matter how we love each other; our capacity for caring is the same. Can you imagine how--" His breath hitches, "--how fucking relieved I felt when he said that to me?"
"I..." Daiki doesn't know what to say. He and Tetsu never really talked. They just always knew. Or, Daiki thought they knew. But the more he learns about what Tetsu and Kagami have now, the surer he is that that was the problem. Maybe if they had talked it out, established in clear terms what they were to each other, then they would be okay today.
But Kagami is giving him the chance to make it okay. Maybe not quite in the way Daiki wants--he still can't have Tetsu the way he wants to--because Tetsu has committed himself to Kagami, and Kagami to Tetsu, and Daiki can't get between that. But maybe... they can be friends again. That would be nice. Daiki would like that.
"I want to see Tetsu again," he says finally, and his throat feels tight.
"Yeah," Kagami says. "I knew you would. 'Cause he's the light. Not us."
"I hate agreeing with you," Daiki grumbles, and Kagami laughs.
"I hope this is the start of a beautiful friendship."
Daiki can't help but smile a little at that. "Yeah," he says. "We'll see."
He waits a few days to call Tetsu. He wants to figure out his feelings and decide what he wants to say. He can't screw this up again.
They meet outside Maji Burger, because where else? Even though it’s dark out, they sit at a table outside. The night air is caught in a tug-of-war between warm and cool, and the area is lit by soft yellow lights.
Daiki buys Tetsu a vanilla milkshake for good measure and stress-eats his way through three burgers before he finally builds up the nerve to start talking. Tetsu has been watching him patiently this entire time, slurping on his milkshake and making no move to initiate the conversation.
"I talked to Kagami," Daiki says, because he doesn't know how else to start.
"He told me."
"Oh. Right. Of course."
He's second to Kagami now. It used to be him and Tetsu. Daiki and Tetsu. Now it's Kagami and Tetsu. He doesn't like it, and he doesn't like that he doesn't like it, and it's just all sorts of awful, really. He doesn't want to sully Kagami's name, but he can't think about Tetsu in a relationship without feeling some sort of bitterness toward Kagami. If he can just forget it, he thinks he and Kagami could get along. But with Tetsu in the mix, he's not so sure.
Tetsu was studying Daiki as he struggled to come up with something else to say, and now he leans back in his seat and says, "I still care about you. More than you may think. I just can't be what you want. I've committed to Kagami-kun. You understand that, right?"
"Yeah," Daiki says, his voice rough. He clears his throat. "Yeah, I understand."
"It's up to you to decide where you want to go from here," Tetsu continues. "Just know that you can't expect anything from me. I don't know what will happen in the future, but I can't see myself leaving Kagami-kun for anything, and that's just how it is right now."
Daiki can't imagine Kagami leaving Tetsu for anything either. He can't imagine anyone would. If he could, he would hold onto Tetsu and never let go. But it's too late now. He missed his chance. He messed up his chance.
He thinks about all the things he planned to say tonight. About how he realized that he messed up, but he still likes Tetsu and wants him in his life. In fact, he's not sure he could stand it if Tetsu wasn't in his life in some capacity. He needs him.
But it's not fair. It's not fair to Tetsu, and it's not fair to Kagami. And, if he's being completely honest, it's not fair to him, either. It just hurts too much, being Tetsu's friend and nothing else. Nothing closer. Call him greedy, but he can't live like that.
But he doesn't intend to make things difficult for Tetsu and Kagami. He wants them to be happy, together.
"We," he says, and his voice cracks. Fuck. He's not going to cry. He draws in a shaky breath. "We can't see each other anymore after today," he says, and his heart has settled somewhere in his stomach. "Even as friends."
Please understand, he thinks. I'm doing this for you. Because I care about you. Because I l-love you.
"I see," Tetsu murmurs. His eyes look watery. "I understand. Although I am sorry. I wish it didn't have to be this way."
It wouldn't have to, if Daiki was a stronger person. But he's not.
Kagami really wanted to be friends with him. Daiki's chest feels tight remembering his earnest expression. He really believed it would all work out between them. Maybe in another lifetime, one where Daiki learned to communicate his feelings better.
On impulse, he reaches his hand across the table. Tetsu sets his hand on top of Daiki's, and Daiki turns his hand over, palm up, to hold Tetsu's, squeezing gently.
He can't be happy staying like this. The only thing to do is distance himself. Which will--hurt more, in some ways, but it's for the best. It's for Tetsu's best, and that's what matters. He's sure Kagami will understand. Maybe after time has layered over the pain enough that loving Tetsu is as faint a memory as loving basketball, he’ll be able to face Tetsu and Kagami again and hold a conversation with them without feeling like he’s breaking inside.
Tetsu rubs his thumb over Daiki's knuckles. Daiki clenches his teeth and tries very hard not to cry. He's not going to cry.
At least, not where Tetsu can see him.
Tetsu pulls his hand away first, and when he does, Daiki takes it as a cue to go, and stands.
"This is goodbye, I suppose," Tetsu says.
"Yeah," Daiki says, and swallows. He tries to say goodbye, but the word won't come out. "I'm sorry," he blurts instead. "I love you."
I love you. It's the first time he's said it out loud. He hopes Tetsu felt it all the times he thought it before, when they were closer. He still should have said it, though. He wishes he did. He wishes he told him every day, instead of now, at the end of it all.
Tetsu smiles sadly at him. "I feel the same," he says, and then turns and begins to walk away.
I love you. I feel the same.
Daiki’s heart drops as he recognizes the phrases, the innocuous I love you on Tetsu's wrist and the I feel the same etched across his lower back.
That’s it. They’re soulmates, and now they'll never speak again. Separated not by death, but by Daiki's own failures.
Tetsu is getting farther and farther away. Daiki tries to will himself to say something, to prove that the words on his back don't mean anything, that they're just a coincidence, or that they don't control him. But he doesn't know what to say except what he’s already said--I'm sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Tetsu never knew Daiki's words, anyway. What does it matter if he talks now? It won't change a goddamn thing, because they still won't be able to remain friends. Daiki knows that now.
And it hurts, it hurts so goddamn much, but this is for the best. In middle school, it was Daiki who walked away from Tetsu. This time, it’s Tetsu walking away, and Daiki has to let him. And this way, maybe Tetsu can be happy, and maybe that’s good enough, even if Daiki himself is miserable.
He doubts he can ever move on from this--completely, anyway. It hurts too much. His soul yearns for Tetsu, and there’s a yawning gap where he’s not. But maybe it’ll fade in time. Maybe one day it won’t make his chest so tight he has to gasp for breath as tears sting his eyes and a lump lodges itself in his throat.
Tetsu is out of sight now, but Daiki turns around where he’s standing anyway when the tears begin to fall. They’re not even stoic, silent tears, a quiet acceptance of fate. Instead, his chest heaves with sobs that he can’t control, sobs that feel like they will never end. It’s loud and ugly. It’s raw and fresh and hurts. His cheeks are warm with tears, but the rest of him is cold, inside and out.
He hardly notices his phone vibrate in his pocket. He scrubs at his eyes with an arm as he pulls his phone out with the other, and his vision blurs again almost immediately. He wipes his face again.
It’s a text from Satsuki.
Hey, Dai-chan!! You should come over to my place for movies and ice cream right now! It’s non-negotiable!
Daiki has a very strong feeling that Tetsu texted her first, and even though he’s still crying, he smiles a little.
Sure, he replies.
He sniffles, noisily. It hurts right now. It hurts a hell of a lot right now. He doubts it’ll ever really go away, but.
Hurry up, or I’m gonna start on the ice cream without you!
Maybe one day he can wake up and say that he’s okay, and he won’t be lying to himself.
You had to stand there saying:
I love you, I love you, I love you
we’re soul mates, you and I, but that doesn’t mean it works
that doesn’t mean it works
that means my soul can’t bear to be without yours
but that doesn’t mean it works
-- Trista Mateer