#gakven

Kise finds Aomine in the same place he always does and always has—lounging upon the rooftop with snores echoing around him like a mock hallelujah. It's not as if he doesn't bother to understand Aomine's motive behind his complete lack of determination and forceful resignation, but no matter how hard he attempts to comprehend it, Kise can't wrap his head around the idea of growing to hate basketball. 

Even worse, he can't bear to shoulder the fact that the person he's admired for so long (the person he first mistook for the sun) would wind up splitting the seams of the single thread that kept them tied together for this long.

He lifts himself over the railing, lithe and a bit weary, with ease and settles down next to Aomine's unconscious form, tugging at the sleeve of his blazer gently. Between each more insistent tug, he allows tired sighs to roll off his tongue, jaded from repeating this cycle far too many times.

After prodding Aomine's side with light jabs and rousing him from his sleep, Kise offers up a soft smile—easy around the edges, coming naturally in the presence of the other boy (even after all this time, after how much he's changed for the worse over time).