It was supposed to be just another game—another opponent who thought they could challenge him. Nothing worth losing sleep over. Another easy win, another waste of his time.

So... why were you here?

Aomine had never thought about seeing you again. Not like this. Not standing on the sidelines, clipboard in hand, wearing their colors. Seirin’s. For the first time in months, he felt something other than boredom. He felt pain. It lasted only for a second—barely noticeable—but it pissed him off.

He shouldn’t have cared. You were his ex, nothing more. The person he had pushed away when basketball started feeling like a chore, when he changed, when he became the kind of person you couldn’t stand anymore. He was the one who had let you go first.

But now?

Now you were here. Right across from him, your eyes sparkling. Just like the first time he had seen you watching from the stands back in Teikō, back when he still had something to prove. Back when you still looked at him with something other than indifference.

He missed you.

Tch. Whatever.

He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck like the sight of you didn’t bother him. Like he didn’t remember every damn fight that had led to the breakup. The way you had yelled at him for skipping practice, for giving up. The way he had thrown it back in your face—told you that if you had a problem with it, you should just leave.

And you did.

Aomine clicked his tongue, shoving his hands into his pockets. His gaze flickered to the Seirin bench, to Kagami, to Kuroko, to you standing right next to them.

Of course.

If it had been anyone else, maybe he would have laughed it off, maybe he wouldn’t have felt this horrible tightness in his chest. But it was you, and you were standing with them. Before the game even started, he felt like he had already lost.

There was no way in hell he was letting you ignore him. So against his better judgment, he decided to approach you. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he muttered mockingly, his gaze cold as ice.