Hello. A few things you should know before you read this.
- This is just another fic about Kise longing for Aomine I'm sorry.
- It makes no sense.
Writing is certainly not a stong point for me, so I'm not expecting anything, but if you're able to read through this whole thing, that's enough for me. FF always, always messes up my docs so I hope I'm able to upload this with no problem. I also noticed after I wrote this, there's a story on AO3 that also mentions hanakotoba. Erm, I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your idea or anything I didn't know. ;;;
Soundtrack / "Green Grass" Cibelle "Anabacus" Ohbijou "Chalk Stars" Animal Kingdom
This is very loosely based on pixiv comic "Seasons of love" [id=31296206] by しょ仔 ４号館エ42a
The ending is quite cheesy. The format is confusing. But please enjoy.
Love fades, just like colour, Kise mised. Too bad his love was a brilliant blue that he was reminded of every time he saw that beautiful sky outside, unchanging, never dulling. Kise's own colour, a once vibrant gold, had faded, he knew, to a rotten pale yellow, barely leaving an impression in the eyes of his former lover. He had been shrouded by dreams of a future without him.
He heard it from Kuroko, a week after it happened. A week of ignored texts and he was sure at least eighty messages he had left on Aomine's phone.
There are thirty-one million, five hundred fifty-six thousand, nine hundred twenty-six seconds in a year. And each one of those seconds had been spent thinking about Aomine.
A broad back that could have shouldered the weight of the world, a crooked smile that would light up even the darkest of days, strong hands that used hold Kise's perpetually icy ones in the colder months.
He even went to Aomine's front door several times, stupidly ringing the bell, resting his cheeks, hot from frustration, against the lonely wooden door.
Kise's favourite season was winter. He had fond memories of after school meetings in their usual spot. He and Aomine used to walk home together like always, but there was something pristinely beautiful about the large, soft flakes that danced down from a gray sky to melt on their fingertips. They would trudge through untouched whiteness, leaving their footprints, themselves, behind, indented and imperfect in the ground. Noses red, breath coming out in puffs, the two of them would fool around throwing snowballs and pushing each other into snow drifts. Their laughter, especially Aomine's low chuckles would be the only thing to break the silence that came with the snow.
"Kise-kun, you... don't know?"
Scarves and thin school cardigans never enough to keep them warm, they ended up at Aomine's apartment, without fail, every time. Clothes wet with moisture would be hanged to dry, and their bodies would meet, skin sliding against skin. Kisses were heated, and never failed to warm Kise up right to the tips of his toes. He basked in that warmth, thrived in it. That he was the only one these feelings were being directed at, that he was allowed to shadow this light, if even for a time that forever felt too short, he couldn't be happier. They would curl under the covers legs and arms and fingers intertwined, content.
"Aomine-kun left for America a week ago." Kuroko's azure eyes told no lies.
One clear summer day, long ago, Kise realised his admiration for Aomine had morphed into something darker, more blurred than the childish affection it had started out as. It left him breathless and bleary eyed and unable to sleep. He lay awake at night, counting the stars that barely shone through his window to keep his mind from wandering across images of blazing blue eyes and tanned hands he wanted to be held by. Even when he awoke from the rare occasions his mind let him sleep, his skin would be cold with sweat and boxers embarrassingly sticky with an all familiar name on the tip of his tongue.
Kuroko touched his arm while he tried not to break apart.
He confessed to Aomine halfway through their second year at Teikou. Kise tried not to be a blubbering mess of girlish nerves, but they both know his efforts were for naught. With trembling hands he gripped the sleeves of his cardigan and his honey eyes looked anywhere but the assuredly impassive cobalt ones staring right at him. Aomine sighed and with a 'Sure, why not?' they started their relationship.
Will he be gone forever?
When they started dating, Kise could tell the one Aomine had his eyes on was not himself, The first time they fucked, it was long after practice, long after their one-on-one, but only three days after the start of their relationship. Kise was a romantic, believing in fluttery first kisses and slow, sensual physicalises. But he was so easily swept up in the rhythm of Aomine, who, even as he rammed Kise's back into the lockers behind them, damp skin sticking to smooth metal, was thinking of someone entirely different. Someone who was all silky light blue hair and beautiful eyes and small, barely there smiles. Kise knew.
If Kise is a sunflower, then Aomine is the never ending blue sky that he reaches for. That's what he'd always thought anyway.
For the rest of their time at Teikou, and a good chunk of their freshman year at their respective high schools, what they had, if it could really be called anything, was purely physical. Simply meeting to fuck, never more, no hand holding, no gentle kisses or stolen glances. Kise could justify this. He was able to at least stay by Aomine's side, even when basketball no longer mattered to the latter. They still had this tie of their bodies to which Kise could still desperately grasp on to. He pretended he was okay, after Aomine would leave him dirtied and barely able to stand on his own, to meet Kuroko, he pretended not to feel the meaningless tears pool on the ground next to his cheek. As long as he kept smiling, kept chasing after Aomine, he would be alright. He could keep up this charade for however long he needed.
It was, after all, in the name of love.
Hours and days blurred, because a flower can't live without a sky above it.
Though something changed after Touou's loss to Seirin.
Kise had went to watch the game of course, eyes never straying from Aomine's shining figure on the court. But after the final buzzer, after Aomine, and perhaps the rest of Touou, stood in awe at Seirin's strength, and after that final fist bump with Kuroko, Kise had to tear his gaze away. The look on Aomine's face as he gazed at Kuroko had been of something never directed at Kise before. He couldn't quite place it. Was it fear? Respect? Enlightenment, even? No, no that's not it, Kise thought hard as he made his way outside the building. The cool night air struck him as the realization did.
That look was of acknowledgment.
He had no idea how long he stayed outside, not particularly caring if Kasamatsu would berate him later for his sudden disappearance. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander to bitter places. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him, beating a steady rhythm closer towards him, and he jumped, eyes flying open, when arms encircled him gently from behind.
He spent a while moping, brooding, feeling like he was about to fall off the edge of the world. Until one day, Akashi showed up at his door, a dazzling bouquet of scarlet red Spider Lilies in hand. Red as Akashi's hair, red as one of his stunning eyes. Eyes, which Kise knew, had already predicted his current situation.
Kise had memorized well the pressure of the hands now gripping his waist. Hands that had grabbed him so many times, in so many places before as they had sex however many times, but never truly heldhim. They had restrained him, imprisoned him, but never a tender entrapment that made him feel possessed by them.
Aomine rested his head on Kise's shoulder, breath skimming rouged ears he wished weren't so flushed. When Aomine spoke, it was hushed, only for Kise to hear. Almost a secret from the outside world.
"I love you, Kise."
"I love you, Ryouta."
Akashi said it with a soft smile, but his gaze was dangerous and untamed. He handed the bouquet quietly to Kise, and he knew what they meant in flower language. Abandonment. A lost memory.
Never to see one again.
Kise knew exactly who the lilies were meant for.
Aomine's confession was something Kise had previously dreamt, imagined, fantasized about, but had never hoped for. Hope was deceitful and delusive and malicious. It brought pain, and Kise was sure he had felt the sting of that all too often when he remembered the two of them together, Aomine and Kuroko, perfectly complimentary and smiling so brightly at each other.
Nonetheless, the tears that fell down Kise's rosy cheeks were that of complete happiness and relief. His chilly fingers reached up to stop them from overflowing as he pressed his back closer to Aomine.
The bouquet didn't make it into a vase. It lay strewn across the floor along with Kise's clothes, painting a pretty picture of sanguine petals and rumpled fabric. And that's how Akashi had him the first time, almost amusingly romantic.
From there on, what they had turned from simply skinship to a real relationship. It was almost sickly sweet how content they had become. Holding hands on the way home, stealing fleeting glances in public, kissing in the rain, lazy sex in every room of the apartment, slow mornings spent curled up together safe in bed. Completely romantic dribble drabble Kise had only thought possible in his wildest daydreams.
Their sugary days went on until their graduation from their respective high schools, and a month even after that, until Aomine left without a word. To be left behind after such a short time of being loved. How unfair, Kise would think.
So very unfair.
He saw Akashi for all of eight months. Twenty-one million, thirty-seven thousand, nine hundred fifty point six seconds Kise spent trying to forget about Aomine. Akashi was good to him, brought him flowers all the time. There were different flowers for different messages he wanted to convey to Kise; Anemones for sincerity, Bluebells for gratefulness, Cactus flowers for lust, Violets for honesty, and occasionally, Red Roses for love.
They went on dates to expensive restaurants and Kise received many pricey gifts seemingly suitable for a high class model such as himself. Akashi was, after all, the head of his family. The two of them were comically suited for each other, even the rest of the Akashi family had no qualms when Kise sat in on reunions or important gatherings that he begrudgingly attended according to Akashi's whims.
After each and every one of the said gatherings, they fucked in the backseat of Akashi's luxury car, passively and leisurely but never quietly. It seemed Akashi took a strange pleasure in fucking him into a sloppy, moaning, incoherent mess after Kise pretended to amiable and elegant in the face of the entire Akashi family.
Kise's legs slung over Akashi's deceptively strong shoulders, fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents and long vertical lines alike on sticky, exposed flesh. His back arched on the leather seats and it was hot and uncomfortable, but he always came hard, soiling the designer clothes he wore to impress people he didn't really know.
He tried thinking of reasons why Aomine had left. The theory he'd settled on was that Aomine had simply grown tired of him. Kise knew he himself was a handful, and you could only love something like him so much before it started to leech the life right from under your skin.
He wondered if Aomine had found a new lover in America. If he did, she would probably be a cute, chirpy girl with sparkling eyes and a bouncing chest. Long lashes and dainty fingers that she would thread through smooth strands of hair. Maybe that hair would be blonde, just as Kise's own was, but that was just wishful thinking on his part.
She would clutch onto Aomine's powerful arm, maybe tease him about his terrible english, kiss him sweetly on the cheek with strawberry flavoured lips.
And she would call him Daiki.
Because that's what they did in America. Everyone was on a first name basis.
Because that's what the two of them never did. For as long as they had know each other, for as long as they had loved each other, neither one had treaded the waters of a first name.
And though he wouldn't admit it, it still stung him a little that he was Kise, but Kuroko had always been, would always be Tetsu.
He didn't mind living the high life for a while, mimicking importance whilst hanging off Akashi's arm. But he couldn't help but miss the familiarity that he and Aomine had created between each other. No matter how many times Akashi would stroke his hair, delicate fingers sliding down and lingering on his temple; or kiss each of his eyelids closed when Kise woke up, crying soundlessly with unspoken words caught in his throat; or how many times after that Akashi would fuck him, hushed and dizzying, the only things rolling through Kise's mind would be of dusky skin and beryl hair.
Kise's tears, his smiles, laughs, screams, moans, pleads, were only ever for one person.
And that person was never Akashi.
For a long time after Aomine's departure, Kise lay awake at night, arms crossed against his chest, completely still, and pretended to be dead. He always wondered what death would feel like, if it could feel just as sullen as being left behind.
Death, essentially, is the act of leaving behind.
Dying would mean Kise would never again feel the sun's warmth on his skin as the morning light streamed through his curtains, he would only know the strange, dark emptiness he was sure death brought. He would stare at the stucco ceiling, tears at the edge of his eyes, when he realized that everyday of no longer existing next to Aomine was like not existing at all.
Being alone, he realized, was akin to death.
He would stop playing dead at that point and wipe the away moisture from his eyes with fingers he wished were still intertwined with Aomine's.
He broke it off with Akashi when he knew he could no longer keep up the façade of a happy lover. Akashi was handsome and oddly benevolent, if a little unnerving, but he was not the man Kise wanted him to be.
The day after, Akashi gave him a colorful bouquet with three distinct flowers. Sweet Peas for saying goodbye, White Camellias for waiting and Forget-me-nots for true love.
Kise wasn't sure who the latter two were for.
After his not so brief stint with with Akashi, he spent much time doing more photoshoots and modeling jobs wherever he could. Anything to distract him from the burning need to fill himself up with nothing but Aomine. He wanted to believe his problem would go away if he simply stopped thinking all together. The flashing lights and bustling sets dazzled his mind blank and it was a welcome commotion.
Much of his work was centered in Tokyo, and after he was done for the day he would find himself wandering around the flurrying city. Lights above and around mimicking stars, idle chatter blurring together and a constant crowd of strangers going to and fro. It wasn't much of a surprise when he ran into Kuroko and Kagami more than a handful of times.
They both went to college in Tokyo, opting not to leave the city they knew best. Kise still texted Kuroko often, and they remained close throughout and after high school. The three of them ended up at Maji Burger more times than not, for old time's sake. Kagami sat close to Kuroko, Kise sat opposite them, alone, and anytime in the past Aomine would have been there too, clutching Kise's hand under the table while he bantered playfully with Kagami.
Over the years the two had not changed much, Kise mused. Kuroko's eyes were still honest, his words still blunt, he still had not much of a presence, but he smiled more. Kagami's hair grew a little longer, his gaze a little softer, but he still looked at Kuroko with the utmost affection and emotion as he did in high school. Kise couldn't help but envy how perfect they were together. Just as Kuroko shadowed Aomine immaculately, he and Kagami were completely and perfectly matched. Kagami reminded them both so much of Aomine.
Kise hid his resentment under practiced smiles and teasing remarks. He knew Kuroko probably already realised how he felt, but he never said anything in Kagami's presence.
Three months, three weeks and six days had gone by since he broke up with Akashi. Ten million, two hundred twenty-two thousand, thirty-one point forty-nine seconds spent trying to give up on Aomine.
It had been exactly one year and one week since Aomine had left. Kise got a text from Kuroko, asking for a rendezvous at the usual Maji Burger. Rarely was Kuroko the one to call him out so he happily agreed, despite the heavy rain and the bothersome train ride from Kanagawa to Tokyo. The ride was boring, scenery rushing by in a hurry, and he walked from the station to the meeting place. He didn't carry an umbrella, didn't think of it, didn't care. He liked the way the rain soaked his shirt to make it cling onto smooth skin, liked the way it made his golden locks curl slightly with moisture and bend towards his face. There was time between the droplets and when they hit the pavement, he relished the sound. The sidewalk was dark with water, it moved him along like a soft melody. Ripples danced above puddles that lined the dips and curves of the ground, deep enough to lose himself in.
It didn't take long to reach the Maji Burger, but he was drenched. He could see a familiar blue head of hair already sitting at a table through the window foggy with condensation. He walked in and sat down with a wet thud, dripping here and there. Kuroko looked thoughtfully at him, round eyes following the water as it trailed down Kise's face.
"Kise-kun, you can't go on like this."
He knew exactly what Kuroko was talking about. As much as he wanted to laugh it off, make a joke, something like it's just water Kurokocchi, it'll dry! he knew Kuroko was talking about something different, something more complicated that Kise had been actively avoiding for exactly one year and one week now. He stared at the table top, pools of water falling from him almost like his unshed tears.
"Kurokocchi, I... "
He took a noisy, shuddering breath. With hands rested on his lap, he squeezed the water out of the fabric while he searched through a million thoughts for something to say. He started again, slowly, unsure.
"I... have always been jealous of you, Kurokocchi. Did you know how deeply in love with you Aominecchi was? I always thought 'why isn't it me? I'm a shadow too, why don't I get to have a light to bask in?' I was so relieved, you know? When you found Kagamicchi. I thought Aominecchi would finally give up on you. But even then he still... he still... "
Kuroko said nothing, but his eyebrows were draw together tightly, eyes downcast. Kise took another unsteady breath, hands gripping all the harder on his slacks.
"And after that it was still you who made him love basketball again, made him love me for the first time. You're so amazing, Kurokocchi, and now you have Kagamicchi and you're so happy together and I'm really glad for you but I–"
He paused to lift his palms to his face. It's not tears, it's the rain drops in my eyes, Kise told himself and continued.
"It's so unfair that it's always you. I want to be happy too so why am I always left alone? I don't want to stop loving Aominecchi. If I forget him, I'll be alone again."
Even if he had been forgotten, Kise certainly didn't want to forget. Forget the memories that constantly spilled from his eyes, lips, ears. To think no more of gentle breath across his cheek, of warmth that lulled him to sleep, of that radiant blue sky he would never stop pursuing.
To forget that he had been loved.
"I didn't say you should forget Aomine-kun, but I don't wish to see you hurt yourself any further. All this meaningless pining and lingering won't make him come back. You're going to end up cracking that flawless visage of yours."
Kuroko brought his hands up to grip a long empty cup and sighed,
"I spoke with Akashi-kun the other day. He asked if he should send you some Lotus flowers."
Lotus flowers, for distance between the one you love. Kise smiled wryly.
"Even Kagami-kun is worried about you."
I'm okay, he thought.
"He keeps asking me if you're alright." Kuroko looked at him, looked right into his eyes.
"I'm okay," he said, and he wasn't sure if he meant it.
They finished their conversation there and sat in silence for a while, getting up to leave when Kuroko received a call from Kagami, to which he smiled at, and Kise could only avert his gaze. The rain had ceased but grey clouds still obscured the sky. Kise secretly longed to see the sun again. They parted ways in front of Maji Burger after saying goodbye and thank you, only when they were five feet apart and ten seconds from each other did Kuroko turn around to call out to him.
"Please Kise-kun, take care of yourself. I know you're not honest, not when you need to be, but please come talk to me again if you wish."
Kise turned around completely and beamed at Kuroko.
"That means a lot to me. But maybe you're right, I should stop. I should give up loving Aominecchi. It would be best for the both of us, don't you think?"
He laughed lightly but was cut short, face paling, when he once again felt the well-known pressure of arms enveloping his waist. A familiar scent and deep voice pulling the air right out of his lungs. One hand held a bouquet of Lily Of The Valley.
"You shouldn't give up on me so easily,"
He watched Kuroko give a small wave and a smile before his vision was blurred and blotted by moisture and sobs. He felt Aomine turn him around, face to face, and kiss away the tears in the corners of his eyes, bouquet dropped and forgotten on the ground. Aomine tried to blot away his tears with his sleeves all the while whispering apologies next to Kise's ear, lips grazing his temple. Words not quite reaching Kise's mouth, they got caught in his throat, he struggled to see the face he had dreamed of for too long. He grabbed Aomine's hand, strong, warm, reassuring, just as Kise remembered, and smoothed it along his cheek as tears overflowed onto his palm.
"Ryouta," Aomine murmured while cupping Kise's face into his hold.
A touch of their lips together, simple and affectionate. Kise's heart felt like it could stop and any second.
Lily Of The Valley for the promise of happiness.