Comatose

2. Mystery of You

❝It's hard to sleep when your heart is at war with your mind.❞

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

DOS:

MYSTERY OF YOU

One simple thought, one innocent look into the past, was all it took.

Like a wave arriving ashore and shaking the earth, a long-forgotten memory crawled inside and spread its arms to wrap around his heart. With the strength of a natural disaster and the lethal intentions of a predator pouncing on its prey, his emotions sprouted from a hole he had filled with lies and petty excuses.

They screamed in his head, chanting a song he had ignored for so long. They clawed at his mind, tearing down walls and wailing on their wake towards his pounding heart. Their attack was merciless and determined; they knew where to stab, where to drop their resentment and watch it mingle with the blood seeping from his crying heart like tears in the rain.

Between irregular pants and drenching realization, he recognized the missing pieces surfacing now for him to pick back up and complete his soul. His blue eyes found the stars in a moonless night; those pure, bright dots watching the scene unfold without their usual reproaching stare.

And as they travelled to pour their light over his dazed mind, he reached for them and allowed them to surround his bleeding heart. Aomine felt all of them at once and absorbed them, like snow melting in fire.

Anger. Longing. Regret. Despair. Irritation.

Accepting his own punishment, he ran a hand along his face and intertwined his long fingers with his blue locks. As his lips curled into a smirk, insanity crawled towards his broken mind and he chuckled breathlessly.

"Fucking hell," he let out in a low mutter while moving his arm from his face to stare into the night sky.

His fingers still held the phone in a loose grip, and in a spur of the moment, he dialled a number and placed the cold device next to his ear. Much to his surprise, his call was answered in a heartbeat.

"Look what the cat dragged in," the high-pitched voice of his former teammate rang. "How's your ego handling the beating in America?"

A chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to, Kise? Their basket ain't bad, but..."

"Please, don't say it."

Aomine smirked. "The only one who can beat me is me."

Silence fell between them, before the model scoffed.

"Arrogant bastard, you haven't changed at all. You have less style than your basketball."

Raising an eyebrow, the blue-haired man bit back, "I see you're still pissed about not being able to copy me on the court; is that why you chose modelling over basket?"

"I didn't choose it! The people did when they saw my handsome face!" Upon receiving silence as only response, he cleared his throat and added, "I love basketball, though; that's not gonna change. Plus, you know it's a big thing here."

Aomine knew it far too well; the competiveness, the thrill and the carefree feeling that accompanied him during every game he'd played when he lived in Japan. It was yet another missing piece in his life as it was now — the freedom to play the way he wanted, the exhilaration coursing through his body when sharing the court with her.

His blue eyes widened, before a wave of frustration led him to sit up and punch the floor in front of his crossed legs. Why did everything drive his thoughts to her now? It felt like a bad joke fallen from the sky, but he wasn't so lucky; it was a gut-shocking reality, the worst nightmare he could have had.

"Hey, Kise," he started, dropping his teasing and carefree attitude and growing serious. He was playing with fire, but he had to know. "How is... she?"

Regret and guilt wouldn't allow him to pronounce her name; he knew didn't have the right to ask about her, but he also didn't give a crap about any of that.

Kise took some seconds to reply, but when he did, his voice was cold as ice.

"You've got some balls, Aomine. Whatever reason you have to be asking about Kaiya, shove it up your ass. She's got enough on her plate without your dick poking in her life."

And then, the line went dead.

But it mattered not to Aomine, whose body had frozen the moment her name had reached his ears. His throat clenched and attempted to choke him in the past as his mind was thrown into a whirlwind of powerful memories that took turns to have a go at his erratic heart.

His finger hovered over his phone screen as the call ended, and lowered to move away from his line of vision as the name of his former teammate disappeared and the reason of his inner turmoil returned.

That photo; he wondered why he had kept it all this time, but through all his regret and annoyance, a glimmer of relief showed him an undeniable truth. He was glad he had.

Because his days had been dull, his life missing something to make him feel complete and allow him to enjoy it at the fullest. Had the answer been there all that time, or was it his own growth as a person what was letting him look past his self-love and find what he needed the most?

Eyes locked on her smiling face staring back at him, Aomine breathed out and let his emotions consume him in a moment of never-ending realization. And then, his lips shaped into a genuine, sad smile; not into his usual, taunting smirk.

He should've known.

"It was you all along."

Aomine spent the last two hours of moonlight sitting on his balcony, leaning back against the cold glass door and searching inside the memory chest. His heart was at war with his mind, making it impossible for him to enjoy the first glimpses of sunlight gliding across the horizon and painting the sky shades of orange and pink.

His gaze was lost in time, along with what was left of his will to keep fighting off the burning desire to leave everything behind to take back what always belonged to his greedy heart. Fists clenched and lying on his stretched legs, he cursed aloud and shook his head in a fruitless attempt to find the clarity he so much needed.

Under normal circumstances, he would have turned to Satsuki for advice and a second opinion. If he mustered the guts to speak his mind, slipping out of his cloud of self-confidence to confess his inner turmoil. But it hit too close to home this time and would have put the cheerful girl in a complicated situation, standing in between and risking losing both if things turned out badly.

Not to mention if Aria found out, she wouldn't stop until his head was on a spike or decorating her wall like the plague she finally eliminated from the world.

As the cold glass stabbed his back mercilessly, Aomine shifted to glance at the waking sun. And an image of the point where all went downhill flashed before his half-closed eyelids; if only he hadn't been consumed in vainglory, perhaps his words would have come out differently.

But he couldn't blame his harsh reaction and bad choice of words, because he hadn't run after her when she had turned away. Instead of letting guilt and regret consume him, his hurt ego had brought the worst out of him and he had taken the easy way out.

And now that the pieces were coming together, Aomine was left with no other option but to seek advice in the only person who wouldn't slam the door in his face.

"Aomine, keep time difference in mind before calling someone on the other side of the globe," came the dull voice of Kuroko Tetsuya. "It's four in the morning."

A lazy smile formed on his lips at the annoyed hint hiding under his apathy.

"I know. But hell, I haven't gotten a wink of sleep and I must be losing it," he admitted, knowing no teasing words or anything of the sort would be Kuroko's response to his brutal honesty.

"I'm listening."

Aomine leaned his head against the glass and sighed, readying himself for the conversation he never thought he would have.

"You were right, Tetsu. I fucked up big time."