Archive of Our Own

There was something about shopping centers on a Saturday afternoon that always put Akashi slightly on edge.

Public spaces were a toss-up for him to begin with. Depending on how popular the area was, it could either be very crowded or very secluded. Akashi was someone who preferred the latter, finding peace in walking through empty streets or sitting in a quaint little café. To him, that was true enjoyment.

At this very moment, Akashi was, decidedly, not enjoying himself.

It was already a lot being out on the weekend, but to be in Tokyo in the middle of a popular shopping center was a recipe for disaster. There was so much noise that Akashi could barely hear his own thoughts above the cacophony of the crowds, and with every growing second, he could feel himself slowly encroaching a 10 on the overstimulation scale. If this were any other day, he would’ve called it quits and gone home. However, on this day, he was here for something important.

For the past several months, Akashi had been burning the midnight candle on both ends when it came to basketball. Considering how brutal this year’s lineup was, he had to make a lot of preparations. There were so many nights Akashi stayed late after normal practice hours in his school’s empty gymnasium to polish his skills, shooting ball after ball after ball into the hoop until the hours bled into one another and he lost track of time. When he wasn’t doing that, he was in the gym keeping his body in shape, exercising until he was panting for air and struggling to hold himself upright. But now that the Winter Cup was over and his 2^nd place medal was obtained, Akashi could finally let himself relax a little knowing that he made it through all of his important tournaments for the academic year.

If only he could say the same thing about his sneakers.

Even though Akashi prided himself on taking great care of his belongings, he had to admit that he did put his sneakers through the wringer with all the work he had been putting in. He was impressed they had managed to hang in for as long as they did, but after the Winter Cup, they had begun to accumulate so much wear and tear that it couldn’t be ignored anymore. Thus, Akashi was now in a shopping center on a Saturday afternoon.      

This was one of the instances in which going to a less popular shopping center would work against him. The thing about popular shopping centers was that they tended to have more stores with bigger and better selections. And this shopping center, unfortunately, was the only one around the area that had the exact brand of basketball sneakers Akashi was looking for. He had tried seeing if they were in stock in other places, but for some reason, the universe decided to play a practical joke on him and make it so that they were sold out in every other local shoe store within a 50-kilometer radius. Just great.

Trying not to wallow too much in self-pity, Akashi perused through the aisles of the shoe store he was in, quickly locating the shelf that had the brand of sneakers he was looking for. Within seconds, he found his shoe size and immediately picked up a box, intending to walk directly to the register so he could pay and get out, but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention and made him slow down to a complete stop.

In a nearby section, amongst the swarm of people flitting around the store, was a flash of dark blue hair.

Very interesting.

Swiftly turning on his heels, Akashi made his way toward the blue hair. He passed through a few aisles and sidestepped some other customers, but he reached his destination and felt a smirk growing on his face as he greeted the figure that he knew all too well.

“Aomine.”

Upon hearing his name, Aomine perked up and turned around, blinking in surprise when he registered who was speaking to him.

“Akashi.”

There was a moment of silence where Akashi took in Aomine’s bewildered expression. It hadn’t been terribly long since the Winter Cup ended—only a couple of months—so Aomine was still getting accustomed to talking to Akashi like he used to back in middle school. Taking into account that they hadn’t really interacted face-to-face since then either (the only exception was Kuroko’s birthday party at the end of January), it was no wonder why Aomine still looked startled every time he heard Akashi address him by his family name.

But that was fine. A lot of things had changed in the past year, and Akashi was willing to rebuild every single one of his friendships from scratch if he had to, even if it would be a little awkward for a while.

“What a coincidence, running into each other like this,” said Akashi. “How have you been?”

“Eh, same old, same old,” Aomine replied in his typical nonchalant fashion. “I just came by this store ‘cause I need to replace my sneakers.”

“What happened to your sneakers?” asked Akashi.

“Fell apart,” said Aomine, lightly shrugging. “What brings you here?”

“Same thing as you. My sneakers need to be replaced. Fell apart,” said Akashi, mirroring his shrug.

“Huh. You too?” Aomine looked mildly taken aback when he said this, and Akashi was confused.

“What?”

Aomine probably realized what he must have looked like to Akashi because soon after, he tempered his expression. However, the hand he brought up to sheepishly scratch the back of his neck betrayed his neutrality.

“Nothing, it’s just… you don’t seem like the type to wear your shoes down that much.”

Now it was Akashi’s turn to be mildly taken aback.

“Aomine… I practice just as much as everyone else. Surely I’m bound to wear my shoes down with how much I play.”

“No—I know,” said Aomine. “Sometimes it just doesn’t occur to me that you have that problem, too.”

A wry smile spread across Akashi’s face as he arched a brow at Aomine’s response. “Do you think I’m too prim and proper to let my shoes get damaged?”

He was partially joking with that one, but Aomine flinched back as if he was about to step on a landmine, and Akashi started to feel a little bad for bringing it up. Just a little, though.

“Nah, that’s not what I think, I swear,” Aomine rushed to say, putting up a hand in defense.

“I believe you. I was only teasing,” said Akashi. That made Aomine relax marginally, but he didn’t fully untense, as if he was still traversing through dangerous territory and wasn’t sure whether or not his next move was going to set off an explosion.

Hm. Suspicious.

“What did you think, then?” Akashi pressed. He originally was going to move past this part of the conversation, but Aomine’s reaction was beginning to intrigue him, and he wanted to know the real answer.

It took a moment, but Aomine gave in, sighing in resignation.

“Honestly? The reason I thought that was because of how much stuff you do every day.”

Akashi tilted his head slightly, considering Aomine’s words. “Care to elaborate?”

Aomine glanced skyward, as if he was asking God himself for the strength to power through a detailed explanation. Given that Aomine was more of a man of actions and not words, Akashi knew he was asking a lot from him already. But he stood there all the same, waiting for Aomine to speak.

“It’s like… back in Teiko, you were always juggling all these extra activities outside of basketball,” Aomine began, every syllable slow and deliberate. “I remember that one time when Tetsu and I had to look for you during lunch time and we ended up running around the whole school because we would get pointed in so many different directions by all these people who were in other committees with you. And since we graduated, you seem like you’ve only gotten busier. So, I just thought that you divided your time so much that you didn’t practice basketball super often outside of club hours anymore.”

Well… that was a lot.

“It’s true that I do a lot of activities outside of basketball, but I still make time to practice as much as I can,” Akashi pointed out.  

“Even now?” Aomine asked. “Don’t you ever get stressed from all that?”

Akashi…did not know how to respond to that. He only came back into himself not too long ago, so he was still getting accustomed to acknowledging his emotions again. He was so used to just blanking out and doing whatever tasks he needed to do, that he wasn’t sure if he felt stress during any of it. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he felt anything at all.

His hesitation didn’t last for long, but it was probably enough to clue in that something was not quite right about the lack of an answer because Aomine began to stare him down hard with narrowed eyes. Akashi tried not to feel self-conscious under his burning gaze.

“I suppose one can feel stressed from the number of extracurricular activities I do,” said Akashi, opting to ignore how his tone became slightly robotic. “However, I believe I’m managing just fine.”

Aomine seemed equally as unconvinced as he did before Akashi started talking, narrowing his eyes even further.

“Look, I’m not saying I’m an expert, but that can’t be…good. You gotta have an outlet or something.”  

Akashi was at a loss for what to think. Frankly, it was quite surprising that Aomine even thought about his stress levels to such an extent. Although, it was hard to blame him. Considering the endless responsibilities piled onto Akashi that caused his first breakdown back in middle school and then his second one during the Winter Cup in high school, it would be silly to be shocked that Aomine or any of their former teammates were now so invested in the quality his mental health. It did feel nice, though, to be considered in this manner, and Akashi knew how hard it was for Aomine to have conversations like this, so he would never take any of it for granted.

“What do you suggest my outlet should be, then?”

Aomine fell silent for a few seconds, and Akashi waited for him to finish thinking. Eventually, he turned back to Akashi, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

“You free tomorrow?”

“Um…” Stunned by the sudden change of topic, Akashi was rendered speechless for a short moment. But he quickly recovered, eyes wandering as he thought about his availability. “I should be free tomorrow up until 5:30. That’s when I have to leave to head back to Kyoto.”  

Aomine fell silent once more before nodding to himself resolutely, his eyes flicking over to the shelves next to them.

“Okay.”

For the rest of the time both of them were in that shoe store, Aomine made no further mention of their conversation. It was only when they were parting ways after buying their respective sneakers that Aomine told Akashi he would message him later with details before tossing a wave and exiting the shopping center.

To say Akashi was slightly puzzled was like saying lava was “a bit hot”. His specialty was in predicting other people’s movements, intentions, and thoughts; and yet, Akashi could not for the life of him guess what Aomine had up his sleeve. His mind worked overtime trying to figure out what Aomine was planning, but all of it was in vain, and he went back home with his tail between his legs.

The text he received from Aomine later that night only added to the mystery, the message consisting of nothing but the name of a train station, a time, and a request to wear something comfortable. Reluctantly accepting that he was not going to find an answer to what they would be doing, Akashi gave up trying to decipher the clues and turned in for the night. 

As he lay in bed, his mind would replay his encounter with Aomine over and over again until he became drowsy and fell asleep, eagerly awaiting the upcoming meetup.

…

It was early afternoon the next day, and Akashi found himself standing in front of the train station. The hours leading up to Akashi leaving his house were spent continuing to ponder what was in store for him in the near future, but even with all that extra thinking time, he was no closer to finding an answer than he was the day before. Now, here he was in front of the rendezvous point Aomine requested he come to at the time Aomine specified, foot tapping against the pavement as he waited for that telltale patch of dark blue hair to show up within his line of sight.

“Hey, you made it.”

Akashi swiveled his head in time to see Aomine strolling up to him. He had a relaxed expression on his face.

“Seems I arrived just in time,” Akashi replied smoothly. He waited for Aomine to catch up to him before gesturing toward the nearest street. “Lead the way.”

For the next few minutes, Akashi followed Aomine through busy roads and crosswalks as he led them to an unknown destination. At first, Akashi fell into a comfortable silence, taking in all the sights and sounds, but eventually, he began to get restless at the idea of not knowing where they were going, and he just had to speak up.

“Where are you taking me, Aomine?”

Aomine glanced at him briefly before smirking. “You’ll know when we get there,” he said, the cryptic nature of his answer driving Akashi up the wall. “What, are you excited?”

Akashi averted his eyes at Aomine’s knowing expression, trying not to look as flustered as he felt. “I was just curious, that’s all,” he replied. “It’s only natural to wonder what we’re going to be doing today with what little information you gave me.”

“Got it. So, you’re excited,” Aomine concluded. Akashi shot Aomine a withering look, which only made him puff out a breath of laughter. “I was just kidding, you can stop sulking. We’re just about here, anyway.”

Aomine slowly came to a halt and Akashi stopped in his tracks soon after, stepping out from behind him to see what they were standing in front of. It was an inconspicuous building at the end of a relatively normal street. Although, the mural that was painted on the wall full of zany characters and vibrant colors did pique his interest. At the bottom of the mural were double doors, and Akashi watched as Aomine approached them without hesitation, pulling one of the doors towards him before holding it open and glancing at Akashi expectantly.

“You coming?”

Akashi realized he hadn’t moved from his spot and quickly padded over, murmuring his thanks as he passed through. Aomine waited for him to enter before following after, letting the door close behind them.

When Akashi walked into the establishment, he felt like he had been transported into another world. All the walls from floor to ceiling were absolutely covered in elaborate artwork and graffiti lettering. He couldn’t help but stare at them and pick them apart. In fact, he was so distracted with taking in his surroundings that he almost missed Aomine calling his name.

“Akashi… Oi, Akashi!”

Akashi startled out of his trance and found Aomine already halfway to the front desk.

“You gotta come with me to sign in.”

“Oh. Sure,” said Akashi, rejoining Aomine and making it to the front desk. The man sitting there looked up and, upon seeing Aomine, instantly smiled.

“Hey, you’re back!” he said. “How’ve you been, Aomine?”

“I’ve been alright,” Aomine responded. “Just living life as usual.”

“Good to hear it.” The man’s attention turned to Akashi, eyes sparkling in curiosity. “And who’s this?”

“This is Akashi,” Aomine explained. “This is his first time coming here.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Akashi responded politely.

The man hummed in thought. “First time, eh? Want me to give you a rundown on what we do here?”

Aomine shook his head. “Nah, I’ll give it to him when we’re inside. I’m keeping what we’re doing a surprise.”

The man tipped his head back slightly, realization flashing across his face. “Ah, a surprise,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Alright, I won’t spoil it then. Let’s get you set up.”

Aomine and the man at the front desk continued their conversation as Aomine confirmed the booking and had Akashi sign a form (Akashi skimmed the title of said form and realized he was signing a waiver, but even after bringing it up to Aomine, he still didn’t explain what they were doing in this building). Since the very first exchange, Akashi noticed how casual they were with each other. He wondered how many times Aomine must have come here for the staff to know him by name. But before he could think about it for too long, a new person joined in.

“Is that Aomine’s voice I hear?”

Enthusiastic footsteps approached and a woman appeared from around the corner, her eyes locking onto Aomine as soon as she spotted him, her own smile spreading across her face.

“It’s good to see you again!” she exclaimed. “Back for another round?”

“You know it. Also,” Aomine stepped out of the way to reveal Akashi standing behind him, jerking his thumb in his direction. “I brought someone with me today.”

The woman looked Akashi up and down and blinked. “Wow, this is the first time you ever bring a plus one.”

“I wasn’t gonna say it out loud, but…” Akashi heard the man at the front desk quietly mutter.

The woman cocked her head to the side. “What’s your name, kid?”

“My name is Akashi Seijuro, it’s nice to meet you,” said Akashi, bowing slightly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” the woman replied cheerfully. “You can call me Mika. The guy at the front desk is Takuma.”

“Hi again,” said Takuma.

Mika rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Anyway, glad to see living proof that Aomine socializes with other people.”

“Wha—of course, I socialize!” Aomine sputtered, undoubtedly scandalized by that comment. “You’re making me seem like a total shut-in!”

“Well, what did you want me to think?” The woman teased. “Every time I tell you to bring a friend with you on your next visit, you never do and just come by yourself.”

That last part had Akashi furrowing his eyebrows. He didn’t come here with anyone? Not even Momoi? What could Aomine possibly be doing here that even Momoi, his childhood friend whom he had known for almost his entire life, someone who followed him wherever he went, was consistently excluded from these visits?

Aomine didn’t seem too keen to dig into that anyway, and he brushed off her words. “Well now I brought someone. Are you happy now?”

The smile on Mika’s face only grew more mischievous, much to Aomine’s chagrin. “Very,” she affirmed. “Anyway, is this Akashi-kun’s first time here?”

“It is,” said Akashi, “but Aomine said that he wants what we’re doing to be a surprise, so he told me that he’d explain everything later.”

“You’re enjoying this,” Mika said to Aomine, amusement dancing across her features before turning back to Akashi. “In that case, I’ll just take you to the locker room so you can get changed. Follow me!” 

Akashi once again trailed behind Aomine as they were led down a hall by Mika toward the locker room. When they arrived, they were given safety gear to put on and told how to use the lockers if they had belongings they wanted to store during their session. After the brief explanation, she disappeared and told them she’d be back shortly to check if they were ready.

Once they began setting their stuff down, Aomine looked over his shoulder back at Akashi.

 “So, how are you finding the place so far?”

Akashi paused to consider his question. “It’s different to what I’m used to, but I like it.”

“Yeah?” said Aomine. “I figured it’s a little different to the type of places you hang around. You’ve been looking around a lot since we got here.”

“I like the art on the wall,” Akashi confessed, dropping himself onto a bench to slip his shoes off. “The colors and linework are very bold.”

“Kinda like Basquiat, right?” said Aomine.

Akashi halted his movements. “You know who Basquiat is?”

Aomine shrugged. “I know some of his paintings. The crown motif is pretty cool.”

There was something bothering Akashi about the way he said that. It sounded like there should’ve been more to that statement, but Aomine just wasn’t giving any more details. No matter. He wouldn’t press him about it.

“I understand,” said Akashi. “In any case, let’s hurry up and finish getting dressed so we can start… well… whatever we’re doing.”

“Roger that. Lemme know if you need help figuring out how to put on any of the gear.”

“I should be fine, thanks, but this is quite a bit of safety gear that we have to wear,” said Akashi, suspiciously eyeing the coveralls, gloves, helmet, and face shield he was given by Mika. “Are you sure we’re not diffusing a bomb today?”

Aomine snorted at that, slipping his coveralls over his clothes before zipping himself up. “As if,” he shot back. “But knowing you, you’d probably be able to diffuse a bomb anyway.”

“I’m thankful you think so highly of my bomb-diffusing skills, but that still doesn’t answer what we’re going to be doing,” said Akashi.

“Relax, man. I’ll explain everything in a bit,” said Aomine. “Once we get into the room, it’ll all make sense.”

Just then, Mika showed up and knocked lightly on the wall to get their attention. “You guys ready to go?”

Aomine rose from the bench, brushing himself off before nodding. “Yeah. Akashi?”

“I’m ready as well,” Akashi replied. He rose from the bench after Aomine and fussed with his coveralls a bit more before deeming himself presentable, turning toward Aomine and Mika when he was done. Once Mika saw that they were good to go, she walked back into the hallways and beckoned the two to follow her.

It took no time at all for them to arrive at their assigned room, and when they reached the door, Mika clapped her hands together.

“Alright, this is as far as I go. Aomine will explain the rest once you’re inside. Have fun!”

She turned around and began walking back in the direction of the front desk, leaving the two of them by themselves in the hallway. Akashi watched her go before glancing up at Aomine, who met his eyes with a reassuring expression that somehow set Akashi’s mind at ease.

“You ready?” he asked.

Akashi nodded. “Ready.”

Without another moment wasted, Aomine pushed the door open, and Akashi followed him inside. The moment they passed through the doorway, they were greeted by more art-covered walls. But the true attention-grabber was in the center of the room. Akashi walked up to what seemed like a giant pile of junk, examining it at all angles. There were glass cups, ceramic plates, and old electronics, all balanced on top of wooden planks that sat upon dusty tires. Akashi couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were supposed to do with any of this stuff. He turned to Aomine with an inquisitive expression on his face for what he imagined to be the hundredth time that day, five seconds away from getting on his knees and begging for an explanation.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you the rundown,” said Aomine. He made a grand gesture to the room they were standing in. “This is a rage room.”

“Rage room?” Akashi echoed. The term was unfamiliar to him. “What exactly do you do in a rage room?”

“Exactly what it says in the name. You rage. The room we’re in right now is called a ‘break room’, where you get to just destroy stuff,” said Aomine. He sauntered over to the other side of the room, where a waist-high bin innocently sat in the corner. Reaching into it, Akashi was floored when Aomine pulled out a baseball bat. He sized it up before nodding to himself in approval and walking back over, casually handing it to Akashi. “Have at it.”

Akashi eyed the baseball bat with tentative uncertainty, hands awkwardly wrapping around it as he took it from Aomine. The bat felt heavy in his grasp, carrying the weight of a multitude of expectations that he wasn’t sure he fully comprehended.

He must have looked lost enough for Aomine to take notice because the older boy immediately stepped in.

“Here, lemme show you how it’s done,” said Aomine. He held his hand out expectantly, and that was all the prompting it took for Akashi to relinquish the bat.

Watching Aomine take the baseball bat and tighten his grip on the handle, Akashi realized how experienced he seemed to be. The bat was more than just an object he was holding, it became an extension of himself, his fingers curled around it with a gentle intimacy that one would normally reserve for another person.

Aomine’s blue eyes zeroed in on a glass cup and he grabbed it, turning it around in his hands before tossing it up in the air. When it reached its peak height, Aomine wound his arm back and then swung it forward at the right time, the end of the bat colliding with the glass and smashing it into dozens of tiny shards. Aomine watched the shards fall to the ground and then looked back at Akashi over his shoulder, smirking in triumph.

“This is how you rage.”

“You’re… quite good at this,” Akashi noted, still eyeing the bat in Aomine’s hands.

“I come here pretty often these days,” said Aomine. “Mainly just to blow off steam.”

“From what?” Akashi asked.

Aomine gave a half-hearted shrug, grabbing a plate and then chucking it against the wall, relishing in the sound it made when it broke into pieces.

“I dunno, just… I’ve felt angry a lot ever since middle school,” he said. “Sometimes at other people and sometimes at myself. And it got worse when we started high school. I just kept lashing out at everyone. After losing against Seirin at the Winter Cup, I realized I didn’t want to be angry anymore and looked up tips for anger management and found this place. So, I started coming here. It’s a judgment-free zone, which means I can just rage however I want to without worrying about what I look like.”

To hear Aomine say all of this so openly shocked Akashi. He must have gone through a lot of self-reflection since the Winter Cup to come to this conclusion and find a better outlet for his anger. It was no wonder that, despite Aomine and Momoi being inseparable on most days, he seemed to only come to the rage room on his own. Having this time to himself where he could be left alone with his emotions was probably very therapeutic for him.

“I’m glad you were finally able to find something that worked for you,” said Akashi. “I imagine you must have been harboring a lot of frustration for the past couple of years since no one truly understood what you were going through.”

“Yeah? I’m sure it was the same for you, too,” Aomine replied, lifting the bat up to rest on his shoulder. “I wasn’t there when it happened back in third year, but… from what I’ve seen and heard, you were also going through some stuff. Weren’t you stressed?”

Akashi stiffened at the mention of “it”, referencing the first time he ever switched personalities. Even though everyone from Teiko was now doing their best to move past it and make amends with each other, nothing could ever change the fact that it was one of the biggest defining moments that altered their dynamic as teammates and as friends for the worse. It was a wonder that after burning bridges with a fire so strong that not even the ashes remained, everyone was still willing to salvage whatever was left and start from the beginning. No matter how much Akashi felt like he was past redemption. No matter how much he felt like he didn’t deserve their kindness.

“I admit that it was a… challenging time for me,” Akashi began. “However, there were many duties I needed to fulfill. I didn’t have the luxury of being stressed.”

“I mean, I guess it makes sense,” Aomine rationalized, even though he seemed pretty reluctant about Akashi’s reasoning. “But it’s still kinda crazy that you didn’t blow up or anything. You’re telling me that you never yelled at anyone or acted out? Not even once?”

Akashi shook his head solemnly. “It wasn’t that simple. Not for someone like me. I had an image to uphold, and acting out would taint it. It was never just about basketball.”

Aomine had picked up a bowl and was just about to lob it against the floor, but at Akashi’s response, he faltered, setting the bowl back on the wooden plank it was balancing on. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that,” said Akashi. “It seems no matter what I do, I’m constantly put on a pedestal. I’m always expected to be perfect at everything I do and be the standard that other people compare themselves to.”

“Who’s expecting you to do all that?” asked Aomine.

Akashi gritted his teeth and cast his gaze to the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists as he took a few deep breaths. “My father,” he spat. “He’s always pushing me to be the best in every field. All those extracurriculars you saw me do back in Teiko were things I had participated in because my father made me. And, while I’m sure it would make my resume look good, I didn’t care for most of them. Basketball is still my main interest, but I had to fight to make time for it every day.”

Aomine paused and Akashi could practically hear the gears in his head turning, trying to put two and two together. “So, it wasn’t that you practiced less because you were doing other things. You were doing the same amount of practice as the rest of us and then doing all that other stuff on top of it?”

It sounded bad the way he put it. Maybe it was bad, and Akashi was just now beginning to accept it.

“That’s right. I thought it wouldn’t be so bad to cut back on the number of hours I slept every night if it meant I could still have basketball, but eventually, the fatigue caught up to me. And still after that, I wasn’t allowed to be weak. My father expected me to just deal with it and not complain, because, according to him, it’s my duty to be able to handle this workload.”

 “Why should it be your duty, though?” Aomine questioned. “It’s your life, so you should be able to do what you want.”

“Except it’s not my life, Aomine,” Akashi interjected, whipping his head back up to look at him. “My father expects me to inherit his business when I get older, so everything I do is in preparation for that. From the day I was born, my life has been meticulously planned out so I can be the perfect heir. I never had a choice in what I wanted to do. It’s always been what my father wanted me to do. Even basketball is something that he only lets me play as long as I win.”

“As long as you win?” Aomine repeated. “So, that’s why…”

“Yes. That’s why I try so hard,” Akashi confirmed. The admission tasted bitter on his tongue. “It’s not simply that I don’t want to lose, it’s that I can’t. Not unless I want to give my father a reason for me to quit the basketball team.”

A frown etched itself on Aomine’s face as he processed this information. “Akashi—”

“He’s always looking to control every aspect of my life,” Akashi continued, not even realizing that he interrupted. “He acts as if he can just add the right ingredients or use the right tools to mold me into the person he wants me to be, but I’m not a recipe or a construction project; I’m a human being. Not that it matters to him. He keeps placing all these responsibilities on me and expects me to follow through. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him unless it’s perfect. But the problem with perfection being his standard is that anything below that is a disappointment. That means if I’m not succeeding at everything I do, that’s what I am to him. A disappointment.”

Aomine wasn’t responding anymore, but Akashi was past the point of caring, slowly getting lost in his own world and digging himself deeper into a rut that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get out of.

“Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to wake up every day and do what I do without receiving an ounce of appreciation?” Akashi continued, gesticulating here and there as he spoke. “I’ve been the top of my class for my entire academic career. I’ve been the captain of a nationally-ranked basketball team twice. I’m the president of the student council while participating in a million other extracurriculars at once. And on top of that, I still have to come home and do extra lessons on leadership, business, economics, and finance. All of that just to sit across from my father at dinner time and have him tell me that my results are just ‘fine’ or ‘acceptable’. Not once have I ever heard him acknowledge how hard I work or how proud he is of me. It’s always how I’m just doing what’s expected, and that anything less makes me undeserving of my own family name.”

Akashi had begun pacing back and forth now, his mind running a mile a minute as he threw his hands up in the air.

“And maybe I don’t even want to be an Akashi anymore. Not if this is what it entails. Why should I have to constantly bend over backward to make my father happy while he can’t even extend enough grace to indulge me in having one singular hobby that he has no influence over? Basketball was supposed to be mine. It was the one thing I could do where I didn’t have to be perfect. I could play it simply because I enjoyed the game. But he had to ruin that as well, just like he ruins everything else. The most infuriating thing is that I can’t tell him that, so I have to bottle everything up to save face and walk around feeling like a ticking time bomb while he gets to preach to me about how he wants me to live my life. It’s always ‘Seijuro, you must succeed’ and ‘Seijuro, don’t slack off’, but when has he ever just asked how my day was? The last time I ever got asked a question like that at dinner time was when…” A vague image flashed through Akashi’s mind of a woman with long red flowing hair, smiling down at him with warm kindness. He shook his head in agitation, a hand subconsciously reaching up to rub his left eye. “Ugh!”

By this time, Akashi’s breathing kicked up and his vision got blurry around the edges, continuing to tie himself into knots while he poured out his entire life story. Every other sound fell into the background as if someone had turned down the volume, and soon it was just him and his thoughts.

“So many people look at me in awe and envy my lifestyle, but they don’t know that behind the scenes I’m envying theirs. I want to be able to hang out with my friends as much as I want. I want to be able to play basketball to my heart’s content without worrying about whether one loss is going to completely destroy my reputation. I want to be able to dream about what I could be after I graduate. Instead, I’m stuck trying to make the best out of my situation because I’m not allowed to be my own person. I never was and I never will. And it’s all my father’s fault. Everything is his fault. I hate all the expectations he’s placed on me, I hate his stupid business, and I… I… I hate him!”

The shrillness of his own voice startled Akashi out of his outburst, and he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the room. For a moment, he stood there in complete silence, trying to understand what had just happened.

Vision clearing back up, he looked down at himself. The adrenaline coursing through his veins left him trembling and with his heart beating so loud and fast he thought it would leap out of his chest. All of his muscles felt tense, as if someone shoved a wind-up key into his back, twisted it, and held it still. Akashi couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt this on edge. And it only got worse when he glanced to the side and saw Aomine standing nearby, his eyes wide in astonishment.

That’s right. Akashi wasn’t here alone. Aomine was here the whole time.

And he just bore witness to everything.

A wave of dread washed over him as he realized this, and a part of him was terrified about what Aomine would think of him after hearing all of that. He hadn’t meant to dump all of his worries and frustrations onto Aomine like that. He was so far gone and so upset that everything just… slipped out. But now that Akashi’s senses had returned to him, he felt regretful about it all. His shoulders hunched slightly as he waited for a look of disdain to pass over Aomine’s face. For him to turn around and leave.

Like everyone does, a voice in the back of Akashi’s mind supplied. Everyone is destined to leave us.

And yet… that moment did not come.

Aomine walked over to where Akashi was standing and held the baseball bat out to him. There were no words spoken, but from the determined look on Aomine’s face, it was clear what message he was trying to convey.

Akashi took the bat from him once more, gripping the handle so tightly that his knuckles went white. He looked around the room and found the bowl Aomine had placed on the wooden plank earlier before slowly raising the bat in the air.

Deep breath in… Deep breath out…

He could do this.

Akashi swung the bat down onto the bowl, and the force of the blow completely shattered it, reducing it to countless shards of ceramic scattered across the wooden planks and the floor. The sound of his own heartbeat roared in his ears as the feeling of something began flowing through his body, and it was at that moment that it all clicked. At that moment, the concept of the break room finally made sense. And, when he looked back at Aomine, he could tell that Aomine knew it clicked for him, too.

With no extra time wasted, Aomine went back over to the bin in the corner, this time pulling out a crowbar for himself. When he returned, he locked eyes with Akashi and, for the first time in forever (maybe even the first time, full stop), they shared a look of complete understanding between each other, Aomine’s lips curling into an impish grin as he jerked his head toward the remaining piles of junk in front of them.

“Let’s tear this place apart.”

From then onward it was a rush of sights, sounds, and motion as the two of them set out to destroy every plate, cup, and electronic in their sight. Now that Akashi was comfortable with the idea of breaking things, it didn’t take long for him to get into the groove of it and just let loose. He didn’t have to think about how he looked or if he was doing it the right way because that wasn’t the point. It was never the point.

Each explosive sound of Akashi smashing something with his bat or throwing it against a wall gave him a heady rush of euphoria. This wasn’t like executing a carefully calculated shogi strategy or a tricky maneuver on the basketball court. This was like slamming your hands down onto a bunch of piano keys. Like running out into a rainstorm with no shoes on. Like climbing to the top of a mountain and screaming as loud as you can just to hear your own echo. And yet, it felt equally as good—equally as magical. And Akashi loved it.

Eventually, when there was nothing left to break, Aomine and Akashi put their weapons down, looming over their handiwork in the form of broken glass, ceramic, and plastic. There was silence for a few moments as they both caught their breath and rode out the remainder of their high, but once they settled down, Akashi managed to gather the energy to speak.

“That…” he said, “was very cathartic.”

Aomine turned his head to him, a sated smile resting on his face. “Right?” he said. “It feels good to just go crazy, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Akashi agreed. “I didn’t know it was possible for this to be a method of stress relief. But now that I’ve done it, I understand why it may be popular.”

Aomine nodded. “That’s good. I was kinda worried you might not be into it at first, but you took to it pretty soon after.”

“Yes, I was pretty uncertain in the beginning, wasn’t I?” said Akashi. “I suppose I originally thought that I wasn’t allowed to just ‘rage’, as you put it. It was like something was holding me back.”

“I get that,” said Aomine. “But when you realize that you don’t have to ask for anyone’s permission to get angry, that’s when you can start to truly enjoy the break room.”

“And enjoy the break room we did,” Akashi remarked, using his foot to prod half of an obliterated keyboard that was lying on the floor. “This place is a total mess now.”

“That’s the point,” Aomine reminded him. “If the room is a mess, it means we did good.”

“I think I’m still pretty inexperienced, though,” said Akashi. “You’re better than me at using the break room.”

“Hey, for your first time, you did fine.” Aomine used his crowbar to motion at all the broken items on the floor. “Look at the pile. Half of that was all you. Don’t sell yourself short, man.”

Akashi thought back to the blur of unadulterated fury he was just a few minutes prior. “I guess I wasn’t too bad after all, then. I just needed a bit of a kickstart.”

Aomine clapped a hand on his shoulder. “See? I knew you had it in you.”

There was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Mika, who looked down at the smashed pile of junk on the floor and let out a low whistle.

“You guys sure did a number on this room,” she said. “I take it you guys enjoyed yourself?”

Aomine laughed in response. “Ask Akashi yourself. He’s the first-timer here, not me.”

Both Mika and Aomine turned to Akashi, waiting for him to give his verdict. He was the reason both of them were here, after all.

“It was fun,” he said. “I really enjoyed myself, more than I ever expected to.”

“That’s what we like to hear, kid,” said Mika. “I’ve witnessed a lot of people try out the break room for the first time, and the joy on their faces after they come out is something I love seeing. To me, that’s what makes it all worth it.”

“She was here for my first time, too,” Aomine told Akashi. “I remember taking a minute to get used to the idea of the break room, just like you, but she guided me through it.”

“And now look at you, guiding others the way I guided you!” Mika gushed. She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “They grow up so fast.”

“Mika-san…” Aomine groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Calm down, I’m only teasing,” said Mika. “In all seriousness, though, I’m proud of how far you’ve come, Aomine. When you first came here, you looked so troubled. Now you seem to have gotten a massive confidence boost, and you’re bringing friends along with you and becoming their teacher. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that you’ve matured a lot in such a short time, and I’m glad I got to see it all with my own two eyes.”

Akashi glanced up at Aomine and caught his eyes widening at her words, but he quickly schooled his expression. “You always say the sappiest things, don’t you?”

To an outsider, Aomine might seem like he was annoyed. However, Akashi knew he was far from it. Deep down, Aomine truly did appreciate what she said, but he didn’t know how to express it. It made Akashi think of all those days in Teiko when people would constantly praise Aomine for his basketball skills, and all Aomine could do was stand there looking like a lost puppy because he didn’t know how to accept compliments. Unexpectedly, Akashi found himself snickering at the mental image.

Aomine saw Akashi trying to stifle his laughter and raised a brow in question. “What?”

Akashi quickly shook his head, trying to compose himself. “Nothing,” he said, tamping down the urge to keep laughing. “The look on your face just reminded me of how you used to be in middle school.”

Aomine somehow managed to look even more like a lost puppy than the mental image Akashi had in his head, which in turn made Mika start laughing at him as well. Aomine did not appreciate that.

“Alright, I get it, my face is funny, you can stop laughing now,” he said. However, when Akashi took another glimpse at his face, Aomine was actually smiling along with them. A warmth bloomed in his chest.

When their laughter naturally died down, Aomine reached his arms up to the ceiling and stretched. “I guess we can go back to the locker rooms and change out of the safety gear now that we’re done.”

“Oh, wait a sec,” said Mika, stopping the two of them before they could leave the break room. “I came in here because I also wanted to tell you that we currently have an empty slot in the art room. You guys wanna have a go?”

“The art room? Doesn’t that cost extra?” asked Aomine.

Mika waved him off. “Since it’s your friend’s first time, I’ll let you guys do one painting on the house.”

There was an excited glint in Aomine’s eyes as he immediately turned back to Akashi. “Heard that? You wanna try out the art room?”

“What is the art room?” asked Akashi.

“It’s a room where you get to paint whatever you want on the walls,” Aomine explained. “They give us a bunch of different types of paints and brushes and then let us go crazy. It’s like the break room but with paint.”

“That sounds nice, but I’m not necessarily an artist,” Akashi said hesitantly. He could probably draw something basic if asked, but he certainly wasn’t a master. His father didn’t encourage creative tendencies so much, lest Akashi decide he wanted to pursue art as a career and destroy all the plans his father had for him to inherit the family business.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be anything grand,” Mika reassured him. “Most folks who use the art room wouldn’t really call themselves artists either. A lot of them just like to take a bucket of paint and chuck it on the wall and that’s art to them. It’s all about self-expression, and that looks different for everyone.”

Of course. Akashi was still approaching the concept with the mindset that there was a ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ way to do it. But just like the break room, it wasn’t about the ‘how’. The most important thing was whether or not you felt good. Perhaps he could learn a lesson by paying the art room a visit as well.

“In that case, I’d love to try it out,” said Akashi, which earned him a bright smile from Mika.

“Perfect. Follow me!”

Akashi and Aomine were led back down the hall to the other side of the building. Upon going through another door, they found themselves outside, where a three-sided wall structure was set up for the express purpose of painting. Akashi guessed that it must be a popular attraction because it was already covered from top to bottom in art done by previous customers. Some were pictures of animals, some were graffiti words, and some were just abstract splatters of paint.

Mika belatedly joined them outside, a box of painting supplies in her hand that she must have picked up while the two of them were marveling at the art walls. She set the box down next to them and dusted her hands off on the front of her trousers.

“Here you go. You guys can use whatever you want in here to paint. I’ll be back at the front desk if you need me. Good luck!” With that, she whirled around and disappeared back through the door they came through, leaving the two of them outside on their own.

“What would you like to paint, Aomine?” Akashi inquired.

“Didn’t really have anything specific in mind,” said Aomine. “What do you think we should do?”

“Mika-san said it didn’t have to be anything grand, but it would be nice if what we painted still had meaning to it.”

Aomine reached up to scratch his head in what looked like uncertainty. “That’s fine with me, I guess. Just don’t get your hopes up, though. You’re not gonna get a Basquiat-level painting outta me.”

“Who says you can’t be like Basquiat?” Akashi countered. “He was pretty free-spirited himself. His art style wasn’t conventional either.”

“Yeah, but…” Aomine trailed off before sighing. “I dunno. When I see his work, he just seemed so good at saying exactly what he wanted to say through art.”

Akashi paused in thought before turning to Aomine. “What’s your favorite piece from him?”

“Charles the First.”

“That was a quick answer. Any particular reason why?”

Aomine cast his gaze back to the art wall, scanning the various drawings. “At the bottom of the painting, there’s a sentence that says, ‘Most young kings get their head cut off.’ I just relate a lot to that message. It’s a weird part to focus on but…yeah.”

Akashi shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a weird part to focus on. I think I relate a lot to that message, too.”

Curious blue eyes glanced over at him. “Really?”

“Well, you heard my whole spiel back in the break room,” said Akashi. “I’ve been exhausted and overwhelmed my whole life, but I forced myself to keep going for the sake of victory and maintaining my image. It took facing Kuroko in the Winter Cup for me to finally snap out of it and realize that I couldn’t keep running myself into the ground the way I’ve been doing for the past two years.”

“Facing Tetsu in the Winter Cup snapped me out of it, too,” said Aomine, a somewhat bitter smirk spreading across his face. “Looks like we both got our heads cut off by the same executioner.”

“It appears so,” Akashi replied with a chuckle. “But it was for the best, I think. If we hadn’t experienced defeat when we did, we likely would have crashed and burned later down the line.”

“You’re probably right.” Aomine heaved another sigh. “Being the ace for your team is so much work.” 

“I second that,” said Akashi. “It’s a great honor, but with it comes many responsibilities and burdens. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, after all.”

Immediately after he finished speaking, Akashi fell silent as he processed what he just said.

Crown…

He shot up, eyes wide in realization.

That’s it.

He put a hand on Aomine’s shoulder to get his attention, taking the older boy off guard with the sudden contact.

“I have an idea.”

From there, Akashi filled Aomine in on his plan for what they should paint, and after hearing his explanation, Aomine was totally on board and was more than happy to grab the box of paint supplies so they could get started right away.

It was a very easy design that could be finished in almost no time at all, but that was precisely what made it good. There was no overthinking involved in the process, and Aomine and Akashi wouldn’t have to overextend their creative skills for an elaborate piece that would take them forever to complete. Aomine grabbed a can of orange spray paint and Akashi grabbed a can of yellow before they both turned to the biggest wall and got to work.

“Looks pretty good to me,” Aomine said a few minutes later. They had finished their painting, the two of them standing back to admire it in its full glory.

“I have to agree,” said Akashi. “I think we did a great job in making something simple that holds meaning to both of us. It’s a shame it’ll eventually get covered up by future paintings, though.”

“I’m okay with that,” Aomine decided. “As long as I know it’s under there somewhere, I don’t mind if it gets painted over. At least we’ll remember it.”

Akashi smiled. “You’re right. Let’s go back to the front desk and return the supplies to Mika-san.”

So, Aomine grabbed the box of supplies, and he and Akashi walked back into the building and left their masterpiece behind. Residing on the back wall and spanning its entire height, the painting in question was front and center as if to make its presence known to anyone who entered the space. It would only be visible for a short while more, destined to become more obscured from sight as future customers came in and painted over it. However, just like a great king, its impact would remain in the hearts of those who knew of it, and it would be fondly remembered for many years to come.

The embodiment of their struggle and redemption.

An orange basketball topped with a yellow three-point crown.

…

Akashi squinted as his eyes attempted to adjust to the harsh sunlight that greeted him and Aomine once they exited the rage room. All in all, the activities took longer than Akashi expected. Despite this, time still flew by, and before he knew it, it was already time for them to change out of their safety gear, grab their belongings out of their assigned locker, and leave the establishment. On their way out, they passed by Mika and Takuma at the front desk and said their goodbyes. They were a bit sad to see them go, but Akashi promised that he would return when he was next in Tokyo. With that, they left and stepped back out into the street. Since Akashi still had to go back home and grab his suitcase before beginning his journey to Kyoto, Aomine walked him back to the train station, where they would split up and go their separate ways.

“So, I guess the rage room was a success, huh?” said Aomine. The two of them had already gotten back on the main road, naturally falling into step with each other as they walked side-by-side.

“It was,” said Akashi. “I was quite skeptical yesterday when you recommended I find an outlet for my stress, but I’ll be the first to admit that I jumped to conclusions too early. I underestimated just how much I needed this.”

“What would you rate it out of ten?”

Akashi barely took a second to think before giving an answer. “Ten.”

“Woah, for real?” Aomine gaped, eyebrows shooting up to the top of his head. “You sure you’re not just throwing that number out to be nice?”

“I’m sure,” Akashi confirmed. “Being able to have a place where I can just express myself however I want without being scrutinized is rare for me. On top of that, you and Mika-san especially were very kind to me and guided me through the process without making me feel insecure about being a beginner. I suppose what I’m trying to say is… thank you. Not just for taking me to the rage room, but for even caring enough to help me find a new outlet for my stress. It means more to me than you know.”

Aomine was very quickly stunned into silence and Akashi knew he must have been short-circuiting. It wasn’t often Aomine heard such sincere and heartfelt words from his friends, so it would probably take him a minute to process that. Akashi waited for him to recover while—once again—trying to ignore the very persistent mental image of lost puppy.

“It was a good rage session or whatever…” Aomine mumbled, clearly trying to offset his bashfulness by deflecting. “As long as you enjoyed it, that’s what matters.”

That was about as close as Akashi would get to an acknowledgment. He’d absolutely take that as a win.

Eventually, the two of them reached the train station, and Akashi turned to face Aomine after stopping near the entrance.

“Well, this is where our paths diverge,” he said. “Thank you again for today. I had a great time.”

Aomine’s lips pressed into an awkward line. “Seriously, it was nothing,” he said with all the petulance of a teenager dealing with their embarrassing parent. “But if you ever wanna go back to the rage room and need someone to come with you, I’ll always be down for that.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose that on you if it’s inconvenient,” Akashi told him. “I don’t mind going by myself if you aren’t available.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You’re not imposing or anything. If you’re ever in Tokyo again and wanna go, just hit me up and I’ll be there.” He paused in afterthought, his voice suddenly getting quieter as he added, “Or… we could also just… chill or something. We don’t always have to go to the rage room. I dunno...”

At this point, Aomine was reeling from what Akashi had heard him describe in the past as “too much sappiness” because his gaze was stuck on the ground as his hand reached up to sheepishly grab the back of his neck. Akashi almost wanted to applaud Aomine for pushing through all this. He was kinda proud of him.

“I’d love to hang out with you soon,” said Akashi. “Whether we’re ‘chilling’ or otherwise.”

It was for a brief moment, but at his response, Akashi could see Aomine’s eyes light up before they transitioned to his standard nonchalant stare, and he returned to feigning indifference.

“Anyway, you have a train to catch, don’t you? I won’t hold you here.”

“Of course.” Akashi was about to turn around, but before he did, he raised a fist up to Aomine. “See you around?”

Fist bumps weren’t their thing—they were never their thing—and Akashi knew this. The only person Aomine really fist-bumped was Kuroko, and that was because they knew each other the longest out of all the miracles. However, Akashi thought back to all of the things he and Aomine had done in the rage room today and all the things they learned about each other. Surely… surely that had to count for something, right?

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Akashi believed that after this, they could finally consider themselves as friends. Not people who tolerated each other because they used to be on the same basketball team, and not people who kept in touch simply because everyone else was. Real, genuine friends.   

Aomine glanced down at the raised fist and a flicker of understanding passed across his face, grinning as he raised his own fist and bumped it against Akashi’s. Rather than it being exhilarating like Akashi expected, the sensation of connecting the fist-bump was the complete opposite. It was a calm assurance, like a pat on the back or a promise whispered to another. But it also spoke to something grander and more profound. Something that the two of them may not even fully realize until much time had passed.

The start of something new.

“Yeah. See you around.”