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“The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius.”
~Oscar Wilde
When he is still very young, Kise is not even aware of it.
He has vague memories of people cooing at him, telling his mother what a smart and cute baby he is, his mother agreeing in turn, adding a laugh and a comment about how he is a perfect little angel, too.
Everyone is enamored with him, and Kise doesn't know any different. His sisters dote on him, his father shows him off to colleagues.
He learns to speak and walk more quickly than other children his age, asks a million question about everything and everyone, and – more often than not – tries to find out the answers himself.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” his mother singsongs when he's carefully pushing at Miki's paws to see how her claws come out of her toes.
“That's dangerous,” his father warns, pulling him away as he crawls into the oven to inspect how it works.
They give him stuffed toys and picture books, so he bothers his sisters into showing him how to read. They are not very good teachers, but by the time he starts kindergarten and they learn how to write their first basic kanji, he's already got his hiragana and katakana down.
School, much to Kise's lament, is just as boring as kindergarten.
He likes maths, though, so whenever he is already done with his class work, he thinks up additional problems to solve in his head.
“Can you explain this to me?” his seat neighbour Shinobu asks him, pushing his own paper closer.
And Kise does his best, he really does, it all makes sense in his head, but put into words it obviously only serves to confuse Shinobu further.
“Whatever,” Shinobu eventually scoffs and glares down at his paper. He never asks Kise for help again.
When he grows up, Kise wants to be a pilot.
He's watched a documentary where they had shown what the inside of a cockpit looks like, all the different buttons and displays, lights and numbers blinking incandescently.
He's seen a globe, too, has seen how dreadfully small Japan is in comparison to the rest of the world.
And Kise wants to see new countries, learn new languages, meet new people. Kise wants something that is more exciting that waking up every morning with the knowledge that he would have to waste his days in school.
When he is nine, someome realizes that he is not just a cute kid like there are so many others. At nine, Kise is pretty in a way that promises even greater beauty for his future.
The scout catches sight of him when he is shopping for a new coat with his mother. He struts up and down in front of her, throwing in winks and smiles to make her laugh.
“You could be famous,” the scout tells Kise winningly when he has already explained everything and handed kaa-san his card.
“Do you want to do this?” she asks later that evening, after she's discussed the matter with his father.
Kise thinks that just wearing clothes and smiling sounds pretty boring. But he also knows that really famous people get to travel all over the world.
“Yes,” he answers and treats it not as a challenge, but as a steppingstone.
His hobby is karaoke.
He's a good singer, he knows he is. His grandmother had told him often enough, and the old lady was never one to just praise someone for the sake of being nice.
Karaoke is no fun, though, when everyone thinks you're just showing off. They all pout and shrug and don't want to take their turn.
So Kise picks the easiest songs and learns how to pitch his voice just a little too high, making him sound not quite bad, but not exactly good either. Just off-key enough for no one to notice that he is actually faking.
Middle school will be different, he tells himself.
He'll find a lot of friends, friends who will be able to keep up with him.
Modelling is taking up more and more of his time, especially since he has recently gained a lot of popularity. He's in teen magazines now, with proper interviews and photo spreads. But it's not like he has to spent any energy on his school work, so he plans to join a club.
He tries baseball first, then soccer. He joins the archery club and the kendo club, thinking it would feel cool to wield a weapon. Eventually, he even visits the chess and Go groups.
It's all one big disappointment. Everything turns out to be just so mind-numbingly easy. Every stance, every strategy seeps into his body and mind as soon as he has laid eyes on it once.
The instructors praise him, call him a natural, want to sign him up for tournaments. His teammates first cheer him on, calling him their ace. Then they realize that he is working nowhere near as hard as they are. That for him, it's easy. That winning just leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
He drops out of every single club and gains himself a new reputation. Deserter, they call him now and leave angry notes in his locker.
Kise reads them all, trying to find it in himself to care. He doesn't. A god does not concern himself with the opinions of Man.
The problem with genius is that it is always accompanied by either boredom or madness.
And Kise's read Death Note, okay. He knows where this might be going if he isn't careful.
No world domination plans for me then, he decides and resigns himself to a life of complete and utter boredom.
Towards the end of the year, his sister flunks two classes. She's a sobbing mess, even as Kise tries to console her.
“What the hell would you know?!” she yells at him, pushing him out of her room, “You're Mister Perfect anyway!”
She slams the door in his face and Kise comes up with a plan.
The official reason for Kise switching schools is that he was getting harrassed by his fans.
The inofficial one, the one that he hasn't told anyone about is that he was also getting bullied on a daily basis.
He doesn't fool himself into believing that Teiko will be any better than his old school. But still, it's the perfect opportunity to set his plans into action.
“Hi, I'm Kise Ryouta,” he introduces himself with a flashing smile and a deep bow, “Please take care of me!”
He goes on to babble just a little too long, just this side of annoying, allows himself to stub his toe on the way to his seat, his whine making everyone laugh.
His first history test is barely a pass. His math test is even worse.
“Aw man, me too,” his seat neighbour moans, though he actually has nine points more.
“I'm really not cut out for school,” Kise pretends to sigh, letting his shoulders slump.
“You could join our study group,” the other boy proposes and at that at least Kise's smile is real.
Teiko is a private school and though he still has some fans approaching him and asking for autographs, they are much more respectful than what he has come to know. He's careful not to date anyone, though. Careful to not let people think he's using his groupies. A reputation as a womanizer is the last thing he needs, not when he is firmly establishing himself as an airhead and klutz.
It's still obligatory to join a club and Kise wanders the schoolyard, trying to find anything that doesn't have a competitive streak to it. Sports are out then, as are the various art and music groups. The manga club, maybe. Or even tea serving.
That's when something hits him in the back of the head, making his teeth click and driving tears into his eyes.
He turns around, a curse dying on his lips. The boy in front of him is all gross, sweaty teenager, but his smile when Kise tosses the ball back more than makes up for it.
“Oh, you're that model,” the boy comments mildly, but doesn't seem particularly impressed.
Against his better judgment, Kise follows him back to the gym.
Basketball, he vaguely thinks to himself, I haven't tried that one yet.
On the court, the boy swiftly evades his opponents, leaps and dunks the ball in one smooth move, that same vibrant smile never leaving his face.
I want that, Kise realizes, breath catching in his lungs.
He wants that same enthusiasm for something, that dedication, that joy even in the face of perfection. He wants to play against that boy and see whether he can beat him.
“Excuse me,” he says, stepping into the gym and approaching the girl who's standing at the sidelines, watching everything with the sharp gaze of a skilled manager.
“Hm?” she says and then blinks up at him. Blinks again when she seems to realize who he is.
“Oh,” she says after another beat, “How may I help you?”
Kise takes a deep breath and a leap of fate. From the corner of his eye, he can still see the boy dribbling the ball at neck-breaking speed.
“I want to join the basketball team.”
Basketball, unexpectedly, turns out to be the challenge Kise was looking for.
At first, he moves through the ranks like a breeze, but Teiko's elite is just that. All of them are skilled, and no one is overly impressed by him.
Momoi praises him openly and Kuroko acknowledges his fast progress. Midorima pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, barely even looking at him. Murasakibara, for all his own childlike behavior, looks down on him as if he were a toddler. Akashi makes Haizaki leave the team.
And Aomine. Aomine does not lose, no matter how many times Kise goes against him.
Aomine is amused by it, obviously enjoying that he finally has an opponent whose way of playing is similar to his own. Because for all of Midorima's pointed perfection and Akashi's calm calculation, both Aomine and Kise fly with the smooth speed of someone who does not have to think.
Like with all the other sports Kise has tried out, his body moves all on its own. Now, though, Aomine is always one step ahead of him.
One more, Kise demands every single time. And every single time Aomine's smile answers.
Despite his new place on the team, Kise cannot help but uphold his facade. It's easier this way.
He needles Momoi and Midorima for help with his math homework, asks for Kuroko's interpretation of the novel they had to read. He begs Murasakibara for snacks, even though he's taught himself how to cook ages ago and could just pack himself a bento.
Aomine convinces him to play broomstick baseball and Kise never lets on that his homeruns would have made his old team win the last championship, if he hadn't dropped out first.
Sometimes, Kise gets the feeling that Akashi knows, like Akashi seems to simply know a lot of things. But instead Akashi just watches him silently with those unsettling eyes and doesn't even have to use his ankle break to make Kise pretend to stumble into Midorima and apologize profusely.
Aomine is bored.
For once, Kise thinks he is the first one to notice that something is off, even before Akashi.
Maybe it's because Kise is intimately familiar with that bland look that creeps into those blue eyes, those slumping shoulders that made previously graceful movement look lazy, lethargic.
After the InterHigh and the realization that there is no one left who can pose a challenge for Teiko's team, the team becomes its own challenge.
First, it's Aomine who doesn't come to practice anymore. Then it's Murasakibara. Midorima and Akashi stand on different sides of the court and perfect their specific skills, singular and isolated. Momoi is analyzing her data and biting her fingernails, desperately trying to organize a training match with any team that might hold a candle to them. Kise helps Kuroko with his pass and pushes them both to the brink of exhaustion.
If only I get better, Kise thinks though he is already one of the best, If only I can beat Aomine.
Because Aomine was the one who eradicated the boredom in Kise's life. And now, the least Kise can do is to return the favor.
“Go home, Kise,” Aomine drawls, picking up his ball and walking away from where Kise is sprawled out on the asphalt of the street court.
One more, Kise wants to say, but his lungs are on fire, and his heart is tired.
He agrees to Akashi's oath because it seems to be the only solution. Even if that solution includes their team splitting up and joing different schools to become enemies instead.
Kise doesn't want to make it sound quite so dire, but it really feels like a life-or-death situation.
He still recalls his darker days, when he'd been plagued by a maddening mix of hormones and classmates who'd tripped him in the hallway. Days when the thought of continuing to endure this farce for the rest of his life seemed just too much to bear.
He doesn't want Aomine to go through that. He wants Aomine to smile again, smile like he always had whenever Kise almost stole the ball from him.
So they are opponents now, meaning that Kise will fight to make Aomine lose. And yet they are teammates still because Kise is doing all this so that Aomine may win in the long run.
Schoolwork, if not teamwork, at Kaijo is like Teiko all over again.
Once Kise learns to respect his senpai as hard workers instead of the basketball geniuses he is used to, their joint plays run much more smoothly.
He still plays the fool - karaoke, hair care products and Hello Kitty keyring included. The people in his classes accept him easily enough, though his on-going modelling career makes them curious. Some have even seen him play for Teiko.
“You were amazing,” one girl who used to play back in her middle school team tells him with glowing eyes, “I wish I was anywhere near as good.”
“That's so sweet of you,” he gushes, but then quickly distracts her, “But I'm a bit of a one-trick pony when it comes to basketball. Can you explain this essay question to me?”
He tones it down around his teammates. Kasamatsu-senpai seems like the type who'd easily get annoyed by his overly bubbly attitude.
Of course, at Teiko the others had gotten annoyed with him, too, but there it had just been another means to make him blend it. In a band of eccentrics, only a misfit could feel right at home.
Kaijo, though, is full of average people.
Kise has come to know that average is not necessarily bad – especially since he knows the flaws of genius so intimately.
At Kaijo, the guys meet outside of training to play video games and eat fastfood. They tell bad jokes, moon over girls, and Kasamatsu tells them off when they get too rowdy.
For the first time in his life, Kise feels like the teenager he is. Kise feels accepted. He has friends and teammates who value him both despite and because of his outstanding skills.
That still doesn't mean he ever shows who he really is.
He could be one of us, Kise contemplates when he meets Kagami Taiga for the first time. The potential and drive are definitely there. The shadow is, too.
Kise watches as Kuroko follows Kagami with a not quite unreadable expression, something like hope and newborn fondness in his eyes.
Make him strong, Kise wants to tell his former mentor, Make him strong like you made me and Aominecchi strong. Make him win and lose in equal measures. Make him thirst for the game and the thrill. Don't make him one of us – make him better.
And Kagami does not disappoint. Not at the Winter Cup, at least.
Touou loses and Aomine walks away with his head held high and a glint in his eyes that has Kise biting his lips in excitement.
No, Kise screams internally and pain surges through his leg and all the way up his spine. No.
After all this time, after he never even thought of Haizaki again, that bastard came back to bite him in the ass. Or rather, step on his foot quite viciously.
But he cannot give up. He cannot fail at the one thing that has ever truly fulfilled him. He's come this far. So far to finally take his team to the finals.
And now Kise is caught in a game against Seirin, a game that he could win if his goddamn body weren't failing him.
Even if, instead of him, it was Kagami who beat Aomine and ignited his spirit once more, Kise still owes his senpai this last victory.
For the longest time, Kise had wondered what true defeat felt like. Now he wishes that he never found out.
But there will be a next time, Kise reminds himself. Not with Kasamatsu-senpai and the other third-years, but two more years at Kaijo up against so many other tantalizingly strong schools.
It's gonna be worth it, Kise reminds himself. He's gonna lead them to victory soon enough.
Seirin's shadow and light turn the tables at the finals.
The former members of Teiko who had once forget how to believe in teamwork, are proven wrong by Kuroko and his ragtag gang from some no-name school.
Despite his earlier loss, Kise cannot help but feel proud.
Thank you, Kurokocchi, Kagamicchi, he thinks to himself, silently promising sweet revenge during the next InterHigh.
“Kise,” Coach Takeuchi pulls him aside after training. He's got a deep frown on his face, looking concerned. Kise blinks at him, motioning his fellow second-years to move along.
“Kise,” the man repeats, obviously unsure which words to pick, “Your homeroom teacher talked to me about your current performance.”
“Yes?” Kise asks, wondering where this is going. Because he's done the math. His grades are abysmal, but he not actually failing anything.
“It seems that especially your maths and English teacher are worried about your grades,” Takeuchi continues, “They think that, in addition to your modelling, basketball puts too much strain on you.”
Kise's eyes widen, suddenly realizing where this is going.
“They've given me an ultimatum that I was forced to agree to,” the coach reveals, “Either your grades are much improved by the next tests, or you will have to quit the team.”
Kise wants to rail and shout and complain because this is all so tremendously unfair. But by now, he's used to that, isn't he. So he just swallows and gives a bright smile.
“Don't worry, Coach,” he chirps, “I'll become teacher's pet in no time!”
When Uma-sensei returns last week's test, Kise is left empty-handed.
“Sorry, sensei,” Kise calls out, giving her a small wave, “I think you forgot mine.”
“I didn't,” Uma says, giving him a cool look over the rim of her glasses, “Please come see me after class.”
He follows her to one of the smaller rooms where they can talk privately, neither saying a word until she has closed the door behind them.
“Please sit, Kise-kun,” she says, pointing to a chair and leaning against a desk herself, arms folded in front of her chest.
“Do you know why I called you here?” she asks calmly, once he has settled down.
Kise shakes his head. Even before she had talked to Takeuchi, she had repeatedly encouraged him to apply himself in class. In front of the other students, however, Kise had been unwilling to reveal his intelligence all of a sudden. Instead, he had decided to ace the tests, knowing that it should be enough to get his teachers off his case. So why is Uma giving him such a serious look now?
“I understand that most people consider maths a boring and difficult subject,” she says and Kise supresses the urge to scoff, “I also understand that as the ace of the basketball team and with a career like yours, a teenager would be easily overwhelmed.”
She's silent for a moment, contemplating him with those searching eyes, “Are you looking to play basketball or work as a model professionally? For your livelihood, I mean?”
“Ah,” Kise blinks, surprised by the question, “I haven't really thought about it yet. Graduation still seems so far away.”
Uma gives a little smile, “Everything does, at your age.”
Then she sighs, “I don't want to crush your dreams, but you probably know how unlikely it is to really make it as an athelete or a model. Meaning that you should consider other job opportunities. And therefore improve your grades.”
“Yes,” Kise says slowly, “That's why I've been studying really hard. Did I fail the test anyway?”
And he hasn't, he can't have. So he doesn't get why sensei seems so high-strung.
With a sigh, she reaches into her bag and places a paper right in front of him. It's his test, with all answers marked as correct and a bright red 100% in the upper right corner.
“Oh,” Kise hums, going for delighted because Uma is still watching him closely, “That's the best grade I've had since primary school.”
“Then you'll be happy to hear about your result in Nara-sensei's class,” Uma tells him, though it doesn't sound like praise, “You got a 100% there as well.”
“That means I can keep playing b-ball, right?” Kise asks eagerly, giving her his best smile.
Against his expectations, though, Uma-sensei shakes her head.
“I'm sorry to say this, Kise-kun,” she says, “But after a discussion with Coach Takeuchi and the principal, Nara-sensei and I have come to the conclusion that you must have cheated.”
The punishment is horribly unfair, but probably still pretty lenient.
Due to the fact that it can't be proven how exactly he cheated, Kise will be allowed to re-take the tests under strict supervision. Until the results are in and a parent-teacher conference has been held, however, he will not be allowed to participate in training or the InterHigh matches.
Kise is prompted to at least admit that he is guilty, but his unwavering insistence that he did not cheat does not exactly endear him to his accusers.
“He's a spoiled kid,” he overhears one of the other teachers say, “With that face, he expects everyone to just believe him. He needs to be taught that the world doesn't work that way.”
Dammit, Kise swears, angry tears burning in his eyes.
He should have considered that getting straights As instead of failing grades all of a sudden would make everyone suspicious. Should have known that even at Kaijo he couldn't be who he really is.
The worst, however, is the baleful looks his teammates are giving him. No one says anything, not even the Coach, and Kise realizes he must have already informed the team that they would be playing without their trump card.
Takeuchi looks at him like a disappointed father, and Kise tries to see what he is seeing. A pretty airhead who talks about basketball and fashion, who chooses to cheat instead of work earnestly like all the others guys do. Do they think he did it for the team? Or out of pure narcissism? That he'd rather risk getting kicked out of school than sitting out even one game?
They probably hate him, he knows. Hate him like Shinobu did back in first grade. Like Ami-chan did during karaoke. Like that senpai at his old middle school who accused him of stealing his girlfriend.
That weekend, Kaijo plays two games. The first one isn't much of a challenge, something where he would have been benched anyway. One of their new first-years gets to play, though, just to let him have a taste of what it's like during an official game.
Kise has caught sight of Murasakibara slouching around somewhere, but it's Aomine who's suddenly standing in his way after the second game.
Touou will be playing now, Kise knows, but that doesn't explain why Aomine is giving him such a weird look.
“Why weren't you playing?” he asks, hand on Kise's shoulder to stop him from walking away, “You guys are big on teamwork, right? They could've needed your help there.”
Kise lets out a drawn-out sigh, not wanting to explain, “I'm not allowed to play at the moment.”
At that, Aomine's gaze immediately hardens and he eyes Kise up and down.
“Is this still about your foot?” he growls, fingers clenching in Kise's jacket, “God dammit, I'm gonna kill that fucker Haizaki-”
“It's not my foot,” Kise cuts him off, though he is admittedly touched by Aomine's protectiveness on his behalf, “I'm perfectly fine, Aominecchi.”
“Then why?” Aomine wants to know and Kise cannot look him in the eye.
“It's a punishment,” he replies reluctantly, “I've been accused of cheating on some tests.”
“Why the hell would you cheat?” Aomine huffs, “You can probably just copy whatever your teachers wrote on the board, right?”
At that, Kise startles.
“W-well,” he stammers out, “I... I guess?”
“What a pain,” Aomine shakes his head, “What are you gonna do about it?”
“I have to re-take the test this week,” Kise says, still flummoxed.
“Well, you better show them then,” Aomine warns him, “I wanna see you in the finals, you hear me.”
For the first time in days, an honest smile breaks across Kise's face.
“Sure!” he says and stays behind long enough to see Touou play.
He writes the maths test on Thursday afternoon, under Uma-sensei and Tachibana-sensei's watchful eyes. The problems are more difficult that the last one, and cover more than just the most recent teaching units, probably to throw him off his game. It's still a piece of cake.
Because at this point, Kise does not care any longer. The only way to prove his innocence is to get a perfect 100% on this test and every test in the future. He does not care if it will make his teachers wonder, make his classmates bully him. If his bad grades threaten his chances to play basketball, he's never ever going to get a bad grade again.
When he's finished, he still has fifteen minutes left, but gets up anyway and hands Uma-sensei the test.
“Now was that so hard?” Tachibana quips and Uma-sense sends him a disapproving glare, before her eyes focus on the paper. Kise can see her eyebrows lift in obvious surprise that he actually had time to work on all the problems.
“Thank you, Kise-kun,” she tells him pleasantly, handing back his phone, “Please remember your English test tomorrow and the parent-teacher conference afterwards.”
“Don't worry,” he says and smirks, “I'm already looking forward to it.”
The English test is even easier, and Kise throws Nara-sensei off guard by engaging her in a casual conversation about US-American foreign policies.
The meeting that is scheduled directly after is a little less pleasant.
His parents had been shocked when they had gotten the letter explaining the situation and Kise had been too exhausted to really discuss anything with them until now.
Apart from Nara and Uma, Coach Takeuchi is also present, meaty arms crossed over his belly and that same concerned look on his face with which he had first approached Kise. Tomorrow, Kaijo will be playing again, and Kise can only hope that by then he will be back in the game.
“This is probably a bit of a cliché,” his mother begins, her eyes flickering between the teachers, “But we just cannot believe that our son would do something like this.”
“We're not saying that out of naivety,” his father adds, “Heaven knows teenagers sometimes fall of the bandwagon. But it's just that he'd have no reason to cheat.”
“He was afraid of having to quit the team,” Takeuchi reminds him, “That probably gave him enough of a scare to do something stupid.”
But tou-san just shakes his head, “No, I mean, he's perfectly capable of performing well in school.”
“His grades in all of his classes indicate otherwise,” Uma throws in, “And not just at Kaijo, but in middleschool as well.”
“Only when he transferred to Teiko,” his mother points out, “Before that he was doing just fine. More than fine, really.”
“Then maybe, his former school had lower standards,” Uma offers, “Or how would you explain the sudden change?”
Kise sits with his head lowered, choosing not to say anything until he is directly spoken to, but next to him his parents exchange a look.
“Ryouta was... unhappy... at his former school,” his father says at length, but Uma only cocks an eyebrow, “Usually that is a factor that has a negative affect on one's performance in class.”
“No,” his mother shakes her head, voice faltering as if she doesn't want to divulge the information, “He was lonely. He got bullied by the other students.”
Kise's head whips up to look at her. She couldn't know, he thinks frantically. He'd kept it secret all this time, so how-
“Oh sweety,” she says and gives him a gentle look, “Do you really think we wouldn't have noticed?”
Quickly, Kise stares down at his lap again, but his heart is racing.
“That was one of the reasons why he even transferred to Teiko,” his father explains, “But... apparently he thought it wouldn't be enough.”
“Hm,” Uma says contemplatively, “You think he deliberately got bad grades to make the other students lay off him?”
“Ryouta is smart,” his mother claims, leaving no room for arguments, “Incredibly smart. He won a national chess tournament when he was thirteen. He plays the piano and has an entire notebook filled with compositions. He likes to dance, and was first string on his baseball and soccer teams. He is also handsome enough to work as a model and has girls following him everywhere. How likeable does that make him in the eyes of his peers who are only just starting to figure out what their limits and their strengths are?”
Abruptly, Kise stands up.
“Can I wait outside?” he asks, already moving towards the door and hating how his voice breaks. No one stops him.
When his parents emerge fifteen minutes later, no one says anything, but kaa-san takes him by the hand and gently tugs him down the hallway.
“Kise!” Takeuchi calls out and Kise looks back over his shoulder to see him standing in the doorway of the office.
“See you at the game tomorrow,” Coach tells him resolutely, and Kise answers with a watery smile.
“Good to have you back, man,” his teammates tell him and clap him on his back when they are warming up together.
“Good game,” they say afterwards when his participation in the second half makes them win.
“Better be careful or I'll consider naming you captain next year,” the current captain Ide warns him jokingly, and Kise's face hurts from smiling and smiling so much.
“Cleared of all charges, I take it?” Aomine snorts when he waylays Kise as soon as Kaijo has emerged from the locker rooms.
“It seems some people know me better than I thought,” Kise replies and he means his parents and the coach, but Aomine, too.
“I mean, seriously,” Aomine smirks, “As if an idiot like you could cheat without anyone really noticing. What a joke.”
“Some people don't quite see it that way,” Kise muses quietly, thinking of all those who had learned to envy him, “Maybe you'll change your mind, too.”
“Whatever,” Aomine shrugs, “As long as you'll always be upfront with me.”
Kise glances at him from below his fringe, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, don't fuck around when we're playing basketball,” Aomine says and kicks his toes at the floor, hands in his pockets, “I want you to always give your best when we're going against each other.”
“I do always give my best!” Kise insists, horrified that Aomine would think anything else, “Why would you doubt that?”
“Well,” Aomine clicks his tongue and angles his head away as if made uncomfortable by the subjet he himself brought up, “For a while I thought that maybe you were just pretending to lose to me whenever we played one-on-one.”
With wide eyes, Kise shakes his head, “The only one who can beat you is you.”
Because Seirin might have beaten Touou, but Kagami could still not win against Aomine in a one-on-one.
“See, no problem then,” Aomine decides, giving a shrug, “But for the record, just because you haven't won yet doesn't mean you don't give me a run for my money.”
“Hm,” Kise hums, grinning, “If you do want to actually experience the agony of defeat some more, we could play soccer sometime. Or chess.”
“Ah fuck, Satsuki mentioned the chess thing,” Aomine moans, and Kise realizes that of course Momoi would have looked up all of his previous records as soon as he asked her to join the team.
And yet, Aomine never hassled him to copy his homework. Akashi and Midorima never expected him to play Go. Murasakibara didn't demand home-made bento.
Maybe Kise never would have needed to pretend in the first place.
“Let's go get burgers,” Aomine proposes, making for the exit, “You're paying.”
“What?!” Kise wails, “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because you're model-san and got a shitload of money?” Aomine replies with a disgusted expression and Kise dearly hopes that some things never change.