Dorm Mates with Aomine Daiki [A Kuroko no Basuke Fanfiction]

30: The Diamond Ring

"Let go!" I screamed, my vision blurry, the tears blocking out everything. All I see is white, but I could still make out the hints of other colors. The grip around me was steel-like, and no matter how much I put force, the grip went tighter.

I couldn't care less; I stomped onto the foot of the person holding me captive, whom was Aomine. He actually let me go, cursing in pain. I took this as my chance to run, past the hallways.

"Damn it, shit, Kaede!" Aomine yelled from behind me, but I ignored his calls.

Ward 256.

That's where my father was.

I ran down the hall, wards of opened doors passed by me left and right. A few nurses tried to stop me and calm me down, but I just pushed ahead and rushed over to ward number 256.

253... 254... 255...

256.

"FATHER!" I burst into the room, shocking a few nurse and a doctor clearly. They practically yelled in shock, and trying to regain their breaths.

The doctor, whom snapped out of his shock earlier, walked over to me slowly, putting a hand onto my shoulder.

"Are you Sugahara Kaede?"

"Yes," I nodded frantically. "How is my father?"

He pursed his lips. "I see. I'm... sorry to inform you that he didn't survive the assault. He passed on on the way to the hospital."

As if on cue, a hand slipped around my waist and covered my eyes, bringing my back towards the chest that I had known for the past months. My bottom lip quivered, and it wasn't seconds before I broke out into wails.

Aomine carried me outside, with me wailing in his arms like a baby. I thrashed about, trying to get him to put me down, but he held on. Finally, he heaved himself onto the floor, his back onto the wall and with me on his lap.

I cried, I wailed, I kicked the floor, I punched his chest. Sobs broke out of me one after another, and I was from clinging to Aomine to hitting him to trying to get out of his grip and whatnots.

After a few moments of hitting him, I finally gave up and slumped against him, shaking uncontrollably. The wails an sobs have stopped, thankfully becoming sniffs.

I sniffed. "Aomine..?"

"Yeah..?" He reluctantly answered, threading a hand through my hair.

"Do you know who shot... him..?"

I didn't get to hear the answer before I felt darkness slowly greeting my tired soul, casting me away temporarily from the world problems.

Was it a yes? Or was it a no?

*-*-*-*

It has been a week and three days since Father was shot.

They wanted Father's corpse to be cremated, but as the only Sugahara daughter, I stood my ground and refused Father to be touched.

Father was transferred back home. Currently, he was lying down on the bed, one hand over the other on his stomach. I missed how his eyes looked. I missed how he used to smile and I could see all those crinkles. I missed his voice.

Now I know why they told us to always respect our parents and never go against them.

Because somewhere during our adolescence, they suffered for our luxury. They suffered for our wellness. They suffered because of us.

But never in a breath of their life had they asked for a single penny or anything in return. Why?

The answer lies in love.