A/N: so, this is basically developed off of sandy (nooopantsss at tumblr) and her headcanons about a cyborg au. this fic contains aokise, midotaka, kagakuro, and aoaka, so be warned for multiple ships. check out her tumblr cause she's awesome and deserves a lot of credit for the ideas


"We did everything that we could."

Aomine stares hard at the doctor in front of him, eyes slightly wide and mouth drawn into a firm line. His stiff position doesn't reveal the internal crumbling inside of him. For a second, he refuses to accept what the physician has said. He resists the urge to grab the white lapels and shake the physician, to yell at him that he is wrong. That they haven't done everything and there was something, /anything/, that they could do to fix his broken doll.

Hands raise to go through with the action, but they fall, clenched into fists. Finally. "Can I go see the body?"

He doesn't say 'can I go see Kise'. Kise is no more.

All that remains is a destroyed shell that once housed his lover.

Aomine is led back, glancing briefly over his shoulder to stare at Midorima. Kuroko's expression is unreadable. No surprises there. Midorima's green eyes betray his thoughts. Aomine feels a brief flare of anger and for a second he wishes that Takao had been the one to perish instead of Kise.

He wipes the thought away quickly.

The Emergency Room is bustling, nurses running back and forth, the room a symphony of beeps and coughing, the murmur of voices serving as the background noise. They go past the main rooms and into a quieter hallway. They pass a cracked door and he sees a woman sitting close to a man's bed, holding his hand, crying softly.

He wonders if she lost someone too.

"If you have any questions, just page the nurse." The instructions fall on deaf ears as the door to the dark room is opened. Overhead lights flicker on and Aomine's heart stops for a few seconds.

Kise's face is the first thing that he sees and emotion wells up out of nowhere, clutching his lungs and making the effort to breathe ten times harder. The left side of Kise's pale face is a muddy mixture of purple and blacks. His cut and swollen lips are pouty and even in death Aomine supposes that Kise wants to look his best.

A bubble of laughter escapes at the thought, the hysterical sound echoing in the room. Aomine walks over, a hand coming up and brushing through the now crimson locks. He's reminded of a time that Kise tried to dye his hair red and the disaster that followed. He had teased the blond about it for weeks. Another trickle of laughter escapes and Aomine wonders what was wrong with him.

As his hand slids through the hair, the laughter stops when he feels the crushing indent of Kise's skull. Sobering up quickly, Aomine's hand gently curves his hand down, afraid that he will hurt Kise more. He traces the shell of Kise's ear, noticing that the earring is still there. He bends down and gently undos it before pocketing the blue object.

Questions begin to flood his head.

Did Kise suffer?

Did Kise lay awake on some cold operating table, in agonizing pain and fear while doctors and nurses tried to save him?

Did Kise wonder if he would ever see Aomine again?

Did Kise wonder if he would die?

"Can I help you?" The soft voice startles Aomine and he turns around quickly, almost losing his balance. The woman in a knee length skirt gives a smile, her honey brown eyes expressing her condolences.

"I'm sorry?" Aomine questions.

"You buzzed the nurse's station. I thought you might have some questions."

Did he? He looks down at his hand resting on the side rail, his finger pressing against the call button. "Yeah. I guess just one." He glances back at the blond. "Did he suffer?" Aomine thinks back to the scene of the accident. Kise had been pulled from the front passenger side, right up against a guard rail. He had arrived with Midorima and Kuroko just as the ambulances had been loading up the victims.

"No." Her voice is soft. "From the report given, his neck was broken. He was presumed dead upon arrival after resuscitation measures were implemented."

Aomine swallows hard, another question falling from his lips. "Do you think he experience any pain before he died?" The nurse walks around to gently smooth the covers across Kise's chest.

"I am not sure." Her tone is apologetic. Aomine wants to believe that Kise didn't feel pain.

"Thanks." He turns his back on her, ending the discussion. She leaves, the gentle click of the door a signal for him to finally let his body sag onto the bed. He leans down, lips pressing against Kise's. He can taste the blood and his lips aren't warm. Instead, they feel cool. Not cold. But cool enough for him to notice a different.

He kisses Kise's shoulder next, eyes squeezing shut to keep any tears from coming out. He will not cry. Kise would tease him if he cried. Lastly, he kisses over Kise's heart and he turns his head to lay it on Kise's chest, ear straining for any sort of comforting /thump. thump. thump./

Silence greets him.

He sits up and takes Kise's arms, grimacing at the feeling of bones shifting underneath his fingers. He gently arranges his arms so Kise has them folded over his stomach. He reaches up to gently turn Kise's lips up into a small smile. His lower lip trembles at the sight of Kise smiling one last time. It doesn't even seem forced.

"There. Much better."


Aomine doesn't go to Kise's funeral. He knows that the model's funeral will be packed of grieving fangirls. He lets his anger towards them smolder. They do not know true pain.

He spends some time up at the hospital with Kuroko and Midorima, who are there keeping ever vigilant over Kagami and Takao, respectively.

The day after Kise's funeral, Aomine visits the grave site early in the morning. Flowers upon flowers surround the grave marker and he kicks a few out of the way, feeling better instantly. He clears out a space before kneeling down, placing a vase of yellow chrysanthemums down. He reaches into his pocket, fingers gripping around the blue earring in his pocket. It calms him and he finally stands.

Without another word, he begins his walk back down the gravely path.