basketball sneakers

She watched him on the playground from afar. He always made the most amount of noise, the most amount of chaos. But he didn't care, nor did he want to. He was having fun, always laughing with that devilish smile on his face.

She wanted to be able to have fun like that. She wanted to play with others and have so much fun like he did. He always had someone to play with and not to forget there was always a girl by his side. She was pretty; she had long, light—pink hair and she was always wearing a pretty dress.

But she, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate. She was shyer, more compelled with her own interests than to follow the interests of others. She was more independent than the other kids, who always followed each other around like sheep.

The other kids didn't want to follow her. They followed him, who had so much more fun than her. And she wanted to join in, have some fun, but she was too shy. She had followed her own path for so long, she didn't know how to follow others.

So, she sat there, on the swing, watching him and the others have fun. It wasn't too bad; everyone had surrounded him, anyway, so she had the swings all to herself. Any swing she wanted, she could have!

Yet, she still envied him, from the friends, to the teacher's attention, to his white, basketball sneakers. Somehow, those sneakers had driven him to popularity, and she knew it. Nobody else had basketball sneakers except for him; they must be some sort of magic shoes, ones that make people love you.

Upon this realization, she aimed on finding out the mystery of those sneakers.

.

Most of elementary school carried on like second grade; Aomine had the most friends, the most fun, and probably the most amount of detention. While Inori did make some friends eventually, she mainly kept to herself. She studied and read, near top of the class, and didn't say much more. She was content.

The only thing that had changed in these couple of years, however, was that Aomine's shoes were no longer basketball sneakers.

They were school shoes, white, just like everybody else's.

By this time, Inori had given up her quest to discover the secret of the sneakers. Instead, she held her head high and looked the other way. Aomine was bringing her down; unwanted distraction from her and her grades. She needed those good marks to get good grades to get attention from her teachers—it was the only way she knew how.

But Aomine had flunked time and time again. He only somehow managed to get out of middle school with the lowest scores possible—and even only then was it a wonder how he escaped the wrath of summer school.

It happened, though. Inori was awarded with the advanced classes in middle school. She worked diligently and saw her friends every now and then.

Aomine stayed in the remedial classes, barely passing, not bothered by the fact his grades were low. He was having fun, and that's what the popular kids do, right? Have fun. But she was too focused on her grades that she didn't noticed the change in Aomines' behavior.

.

High school had come around, eventually; and Inori was as excited as ever. She was excited to be able to do Advanced Placement classes, all according to her plan for college. She would be able to join clubs with those of the same interest as her, as well as study new material.

Aomine, however, just wanted to have someone as his rival. He already won the National Tournament in middle school with ease, nobody could stand up against him. He needed something more challenging. Someone who was going to stand up against him. He wanted a rival.

.

"Ma'am, are you drunk?"

She barely heard what he was saying over the whine of the police siren. She wouldn't look him in the eye, even though he was leaning in through her open window. His voice was husky and low. That's all she noticed so far.

"No," She answered honestly. "I don't drink and drive."

"Mind telling me then why your car was swerving and speeding? And please look me in the eye."

She cursed under her breath and looked up, her dark—chocolate eyes matching up with his blue ones. His short and messy, dark blue hair was mostly hidden by his cap but she could still see his fringe. His eyebrows were completely covered. He looked oddly familiar, but Inori couldn't remember from where.

"Well," He sighed. "You're not buzzed or drunk in anyway. But you're still getting a ticket for unruly driving. Can I see your license?"

"I guess." She pulled her purse onto her lap and started digging for her wallet. Grabbing her driving license, she gave it to his outstretched hand dark hand.

"I thought so."

She looked up, curious as to what the man meant. "Do I know you?"

"It's Aomine, thought now I'm officer Aomine."

Inori tilted her head to left, the cogs in her head turning. She pointed at him, and said, "You're Aomine; mischievous Aomine, who always managed to get in trouble and who always played basketball."

"That's one way to know who I am," Aomine laughed.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I meant—"

"It doesn't matter; here. Everything's alright. But you're still getting a ticket for unruly driving."

He started walking towards his car and when he turned around. Taking advantage of the encounter, she asked, "How did you know it was me?"

Aomine turned around completely. "Uh, I dunno. Your face isn't all that hard to forget, and it hasn't changed that much."

"We never even talked," Inori commented. And Aomine walked back towards her car. "I didn't even recognize you, obviously."

"Well," Aomine paused, conjuring up the words he could say. "You always interested me."

"I interested you?" Inori nearly laughed. "If anything, you were the interesting one. I didn't have that many friends. You had tons!"

"Everyone was my friend back at the playground," Aomine answered. "Except you. And I couldn't figure out why. I knew everyone, talked to everyone, except you. I wanted to, though. But I couldn't. You were so intimidating, kind of smug, I couldn't help but notice you."

"Smug?"

"Back then," Aomine added quickly. "Maybe even a little smug now."

Inori looked down, smiling to herself. Even though she had just been insulted, the fact that he noticed her made up for everything.

"So, I interested you, too, huh?" Aomine asked, smirk on his face.

"Well, duh, you were the most popular guy all throughout school. Even back on the playground, when I first moved here. In fact, I used to envy you because of your basketball sneakers. I used to think that those shoes attracted everyone to you like magic."

Aomine's smirk widened to an honest smile. "Really?"

"Yeah," Inori admitted.

"I guess basketball sneakers really are magical then," Aomine said, opening her door. "Because they must have made me notice you."

Long time no see!

Ever since I saw young Aomine I wanted to write for him, but I think I messed up at the end.

Please leave a review and tell me what you think.