prompt: disaster
rating: K+
a/n: and i’m late again ;^; hopefully it’s still accepted! i’ll try and get week 2′s prompt up by this weekend. enjoy! (first time writing aomomo so hope it’s not too bad lol)
When it came to being observant, Aomine Daiki did his best to stray away from that characteristic – especially when it involved matters outside of the basketball range. For when one started observing, one would begin to wonder, and wondering was a general nuisance that was simply not worthy of occupying the minimal space of his attention span.
Yet when it came to his childhood friend, it felt more like a natural instinct. Growing up together possibly helped sharpen this trait, what with her hovering over him every chance she got. Naturally, it was inevitable for him to take notice of her since his bleak surroundings had her pink hue splattered about majority of the time. She had always boasted about knowing him so thoroughly till she could basically predict his every movement, but what she didn’t realize was how it happened vice versa too.
So it was safe for him to say one thing about her character.
Momoi Satsuki was a walking disaster.
Sure, she was a terrific analyst and probably one of the best data collectors in all of Japan. But her extreme clumsiness and her ignorance at times downplayed these attributes greatly till he saw her as a hazardous being he simply couldn’t get rid of. Her cooking was a primary example of this, the amount of times she had purposely ignored his blatant claims of how disastrous her dishes were did nothing to stop her from continuously presenting him with them.
So when she came up to him one day with a wide smile matching the exuberant skip to her step, and her voice delightfully informing him of her desire to pursue another hobby, even he had to pause to stare at her for a few seconds. “Hah?”
“Well, I’m already pretty decent with cooking, so I thought trying something new would be fun!”
“If your definition of decent means absolutely hopeless, then yeah, I agree.”
Satsuki stuck out her tongue at him. “You just don’t want to admit I’m improving myself as a woman.”
“Again, what exactly do you mean by improving? You weren’t even at the level of acceptable.”
“Says the guy who can’t even iron his own uniform!”
Daiki stifled a yawn. “I just hope whatever this new hobby you’re talking about is, it better not involve anything that needs to be digested.”
She ignored the insult embedded in his comment, her excitement overpowering instead. With a giggle and a cheeky wink, she said, “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Daiki watched the enthusiastic aura bursting from within her, an aura that only arose whenever Satsuki became determined in something; he usually saw this when she was planning for ways to attract her beloved Tetsu-kun’s affection. A nagging worry gnawed at the back of his mind, causing a sense of uneasiness to settle in but Daiki simply brushed it off. I mean, there can’t possibly be anything worse than Satsuki’s cooking right?
How Daiki wished he could’ve slapped that naivety out of him.
It all started when she popped into his room one afternoon, uninvited as usual, and dropped a box on the bed where he laid. “Dai-chan!” she exclaimed, sitting on the edge with her eyes earnestly looking at him. “Present for you!”
The young man paid no heed, not even bothering to avert his gaze away from the alluring photos spread before him. Honestly, Satsuki should be aware at this point on how nothing else existed in his world when his eyes were too busy feasting on Horikita Mai’s gorgeous body. Nothing. Not even a gift which was most likely something that was at the least of his interest at that moment.
Satsuki puffed her cheeks, her furrowed brows matching the glare she was sending his way as she grabbed the photobook from his grasp and hid it behind her. He sat up instantly, a threatening scowl on his face. “Oi!”
“I said I brought you a gift, you oaf.”
“I don’t care, give me back my Mai-chan.”
“You haven’t even looked at it!” She stood up with her hands on her hips and a disapproving frown drawn. “Honestly, it wouldn’t kill you to at least see what I brought you.”
With mumbles under his breath and annoyance written all over his features, he used his fingers to quickly open the lid so he could see what she was fussing over so much. What he saw nestled nicely in the middle was unexpected, surprising even. A scarf?
Before he could even question anything, she knelt to his eye level and tapped his nose playfully. “Make sure to wear it to school tomorrow, okay?” Her request sounding more like an order with the tone she had used and with a wave of goodbye, he was left alone to his leisure time once more. She had conveniently forgotten to pass him back his photobook though, leaving him to flop back onto his bed with a sigh.
His eyes moved to the box perched beside him, his hand subconsciously moving to grab the scarf as his mind whined endlessly on how troublesome the pink-haired girl was. So this is her new hobby? Knitting? Inspecting the clothing closely, he at least had to admire the colour she had chosen. His favourite shade of blue, a nice dark navy tone he found complimented his tan skin rather well. In fact, the overall appearance of the scarf looked decent enough for Daiki to feel slightly impressed.
A strong urge to burn it to ashes, so he could kick them into the air and watch gleefully as they rained down on him, filled his mind. What started off as an uncomfortable tickle quickly evolved into a burning itchy sensation he couldn’t scratch away as long as the scarf stayed wrapped around his neck. Not to mention the ends were frayed to the point where it seemed to have been wrangled by a mutt. He was no fashion expert but even he could distinguish the beauty from the beasts and what was currently hung around his neck was a monstrous piece that needed to be banished.
Safe to say the walk to school was a much unpleasant experience, the grouchy scowl on his lips exemplifying the discomfort he was feeling. Storming into campus as the other students cowered away from the dangerous vibe he emanated, Daiki continued his cursing mantra to Satsuki. He knew it was too good to be true for her to be skilled in anything but analysing data. He knew it. If it wasn’t for his mother conveniently storing his other scarves away, he wouldn’t have worn it any longer.
“Oh? Dai-chan!” came the voice of the culprit responsible for the pain he was experiencing. “You’re wearing it! I knew it’d suit you.”
How it was possible for Satsuki to continue smiling brightly despite the death threatening glare Daiki sent her was bewildering.
The nightmare didn’t end there; of course it didn’t, the world despised him too much to let him off the hook without lengthening the cruel punishment bestowed upon him.
Satsuki made her way into his bedroom again, with that bright smile again, and dropped a box onto his bed. Again.
If she hadn’t threatened to shred his precious limited edition Horikita Mai summer photobook (“Don’t bother trying to hide it Dai-chan, you know I will find it”), he wouldn’t even dare to think about getting an inch closer to the trap that was surely containing another venomous knitwear. Sliding off the lid with a wary look, he cautiously took out what was contained inside.
This time, it was a knitted sweater with the same blue shade she had used for his scarf. His fingertips danced across the fabric, which felt a lot softer and comfier compared to the type of yarn she had used for her previous gift. What mattered the most though was there was no itch to be felt and no frayed ends to be seen. For a split second, Daiki felt a rush of relief flow through.
Of course, the problem only emerged once he wore it.
The sleeves clutched to the firm muscles of his arms with a vice grip as the upper yoke only barely managed to pass over his broad shoulders. The mid-waist snug onto him like a cocoon with the rib knit stitched at the end of the sweater emphasizing his hips to an uncomfortable level. The overall image made it seem as though he had rummaged through a child’s wardrobe and wore his knitted sweater for giggles.
Only Daiki was far from giggling. Fuming was more like it.
Again, his mother conveniently washed all his warm outer wear at the same time she conveniently needed him to run out to get some groceries for her – Daiki swore his mother did her best to mask away the cunning smile etched on her lips. Before he even had a chance to ask his father if he could borrow one of his available sweaters that wouldn’t make him look like a psycho who didn’t even know his own size, his mother had ushered him out of the house in a hurry and threw him only Satsuki’s sweater to help fend off the chilly night wind of the streets.
Daiki purposely chose the longer route to the supermarket, a path he was aware that many pedestrians rarely used because of the length. The fact that he was willing to exert extra energy to complete his errand and to avoid bumping into any familiar faces befuddled even him. He caught a passing glance of his reflection on a car window, seeing his ghastly appearance. Yup, definitely worth the effort.
But the world hated him, remember? So of course he bumped into someone he knew. As a bonus since his guts were possibly despised so much, not only did he bump into his old partner, his main rival was also there to boot. Daiki wished the floor beneath him would transform into quick sand and just end his humiliation there and then.
Tolerating barely being able to breathe under the tight confines of Satsuki’s death trap of a sweater was one thing, still hearing Kagami’s roaring laughter echoing in his ears along with Kuroko’s confused gaze judging him silently was another. Having them see him in such an embarrassing state was more of a punch to the gut than the tacky tiny sweater he was forced to wear.
It just wasn’t his night.
He looked up to see Satsuki waving giddily from her bedroom window, his mind too busy attempting to erase the memory of his encounter with the Seirin duo making him forget that he had to pass by her house to reach his. “I see you’re wearing the sweater! It fits you perfectly!”
If Daiki wasn’t anticipating his mother’s cooking for dinner so much, he would’ve flung the entire grocery bag straight to her face.
Normally, one would think after receiving the horrendous tragedies that was the scarf and sweater, Daiki had nothing more to be afraid of. But this was Satsuki and after spending years together, he knew when she would tire of showering him with creations from her new hobby. The pink-haired girl was far from being done.
When he received her call telling him she wanted to present him with a gift that would knock all the ones before out of the park, Daiki quickly locked his door and ignored the incessant doorbell ringing as well as his mother’s nagging to not be rude and let Satsuki in. He even woke up earlier than usual to avoid their usual routine of walking together to school.
Yes, that was how scared he felt.
Then again, Satsuki was notorious for being rather stubborn when it came to getting things her way so no matter how he tried to run and hide, he soon found himself cornered and trapped on the rooftop with her slowly approaching him; that irritating bright smile lighting up her features.
“Dai-chan, why’re you avoi-,”
“I’m not being your guinea pig anymore, damn it!”
She tilted her head, staring at him with a confused expression. “What?”
“I said I’m not wearing anymore of your shitty knitting!”
“B-but I worked really hard on this one,” she whined, adding the pout she knew Daiki had trouble defending himself against. However, recalling the painful experience from her previous gifts, he remained strong.
“I don’t care, whatever you plan on giving me, don’t bother. Do us all a favour and burn it.”
Satsuki’s happy demeanour quickly switched to a more assertive one. She stomped closer and stuffed the item in her grasp to his. “At least take a look at it before judging. I did take a longer time with this compared to the others.”
Daiki clicked his tongue, wanting nothing more to do with her knitting passion but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t curious to know what it was that made her so persistent. He unravelled it and was once again left with a hint of surprise.
It was a basketball jersey, made from a fabric so light and smooth, it glided under his touch – suitable for the fast and agile pace of the sport he was playing. The stitching was perfectly done with the outline and layout design similar to the school jerseys he usually wore to matches. The length and width fit nicely over his tall figure and she still stuck with the navy colour he adored so much. It was almost flawless.
Until he turned it around and saw his nickname sewn largely with pink thread and hearts littering all around it. That became the deal breaker.
“Yup, definitely burn it.”
“Aww, c’mon! Wear it just once, please,” she begged, her doe eyes glistening with a sheen layer to make her request more appealing. Daiki didn’t falter.
“Shut up. You’re not making me wear that piece of crap, and that’s final!” He exclaimed, his voice adamant enough for her to seemingly back off. What was she thinking? How could she even assume he would willingly enter a court wearing a jersey with such an embarrassing design that would surely result in him being a laughing stock? Daiki disregarded the importance of image usually, especially in basketball, but even he had his limits.
Her crestfallen look after his direct rejection almost made his resolve crumble slightly. Almost.
It’s just a dumb jersey, she’ll get over it.
“Momocchi! What happened to your fingers?”
Daiki slurped on his drink noisily, his hunger sated after devouring his 15th burger so his mind couldn’t help but focus on Kise’s passing comment. His eye turned to his side curiously, catching a quick glimpse of Satsuki’s fingers before she hurriedly hid them under the table. They were covered in plasters. “O-Oh! I accidentally burned them from cooking last night.”
She put on an assuring smile. “Well, you know how clumsy I can be. Don’t worry, Ki-chan, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
Her tone might sound convincing to others but Daiki knew that tone to be the one she only used when telling lies. He may be slow in a lot of matters, but he wasn’t dense enough to not realize how the pieces of the puzzle fit; deciphering the actual scenario of what happened with Satsuki and her fingers.
He sighed aloud, his conscience berating him with a heavy guilt trip soaking his heart yet his mind refused to demolish the stubborn resolve he had built. No matter what, there was no way he was wearing that jersey. Nope. Absolutely not. No way.
“Ugh, I knew it! That bastard’s not gonna make it in time!”
“Sorry, senpai, it’s my fault. I should’ve followed him after school to make sure he’d be here on time. I’m sorry I’m so useless!”
“Sakurai, now’s not the time!”
“Wakamatsu-san, please calm down,” cooed Satsuki softly, doing her best to try and soothe the raging anger seething from the Touou captain. They were only minutes away from starting a match against a new competition yet their ace was nowhere to be found. Honestly, this idiot, where on earth is he? Biting her lip, she redialled his number and pressed the call button – her finger already numb from punching in the digits multiple times.
She rarely worried about Daiki being late or completely missing a match altogether, since that was what she would usually expect. Yet he had actively practiced for this one after hearing about how the opponent had recruited a player that even foreign teams were aiming for. It was very unlikely for him to not appear.
Before she could press redial again, the door burst open and there stood the person everyone waited for. Wakamatsu was ready to yell his anxiety out, the coach was prepared to shake his head, and Satsuki was about to reprimand him for worrying her so much. They all stopped in their tracks however when they saw what he was wearing. The intense anger that had filled the waiting room dissipated as it became replaced with loud laughter instead.
Except for Satsuki who could only stand there at a loss for words.
Daiki ignored their cackling, heading to his locker to discard the fitted sweater and itchy scarf away as he slid on his jersey; making sure the name on his back was clear enough for everyone to see. He sat on the bench and tied his shoelaces properly, beginning his regular breathing exercise to raise his focus on the upcoming game rather than the noisy laughter of his teammates.
“What on earth were you wearing!? Heck, what are you wearing now, Dai-chan?” teased the captain, not bothering to stop the guffaws pouring from his mouth. Even Sakurai had a hard time keeping his giggles in too. The bizarre sight of the usual intimidating Aomine Daiki donning such different attire than his norm amused the entire Touou team greatly.
“Shut up and get ready for the game,” Daiki snapped, giving them a warning glare as he finished stretching his limbs. Satsuki remained frozen in place, still in disbelief that he was not only wearing her jersey, he had also worn her previous gifts coming to the stadium too. All those long hours at night spent figuring out the basics of sewing, all the tiredness from burning daylight bending in a stiff position to make sure she sewed the seams right, all the sadness she had felt after his strict refusal on even accepting her gifts; it all fluttered away and was now replaced with sheer happiness. “Dai-chan…”
The young ace stood up and walked past her, not sparing her a glance until he stopped in front of the door. With a voice that was barely audible, she saw his lips mumble something and if she wasn’t holding her breath, she would’ve missed it.
Satsuki’s grin only grew wider. “Un! Good luck with the match, Dai-chan!”
Touou ended up winning, which wasn’t much of a shock but the match definitely proved to be entertaining and it wasn’t just because of the intense showdown between Daiki and the new rising power forward. Even the commentators had to say a few words on his interesting jersey. Although his level of intimidation may have reduced after having most people tease him over his affectionate nickname, Daiki found himself not bothered as much as he thought he would’ve.
Somehow, the bright smile on Satsuki’s face throughout the entire game and the entire night made him feel more content.
Honestly, she may be a disaster when it came down to a lot of things.
But Daiki wouldn’t have her any other way.
