Chapter 1

"Sorry, we don't hire high school students," the store manager tells Takao bluntly.

"I'm not a high school student!" Takao makes sure to point out loudly. "I'm already in university!"

The store manager leans away from the raven-haired boy, putting some distance between them to protect his ears.

"Sorry, we don't hire boys," he adds plainly.

"I'm pretty sure that's a discriminatory practice," Takao says and narrows his eyes at the man.

"Look," he snaps and finally drops the boxes he was transporting to face Takao. "I don't want to hire someone as…jumpy as you. We only have the night shift open and I'm not going to have you making a ruckus every night. I've already got three tiring kids at home and I don't need the same where I work."

With a huff, he cracks his back picking the boxes up and carries them into the store, not sparing Takao a second glance.

Takao stares dejectedly at his retreating back and thinks to himself, "I can be quiet…"

He decides not to let it get him down and briskly walks down the street, trying his luck with every "Help Wanted" poster pinned up in front of the stores. But after numerous blunt refusals and some sympathetic 'no's, Takao calls it a day, telling himself that's enough rejection for a whole morning. Besides, he needs to get to school for his afternoon classes.

Takao trudges to school, not so much because of all the rejection, but more so of the hunger assaulting him. Spending all morning hunting for a job really took its toll on one. He had no money to buy lunch, which will be the third day that happened in a row. It really sucks to be poor. Takao's so hungry he won't be surprised if his stomach concaves.

With an endurance perfected over the years, Takao manages to make it to school without collapsing. As if his stomach was displeased at the abuse it's been through, it grumbles loudly and forces Takao to wrap his arms around his waist, muffling the sound even though there's no one in the vicinity to witness his pitiful situation. Sighing, Takao leans against the railings for a little rest to find his dignity before continuing on his bleak way.

Right now, life is serving Takao lemons. And they are very sour.

The moment his butt meets the railings, it unhinges and sends gravity acting cruelly on Takao. With a yelp, he finds himself falling backwards and rolling ungracefully down the grassy hill, head spinning and mouth spewing an elongated curse word. The world finally stops spinning madly when he lands on his back with his feet sticking up.

"Ow ow ow ow…"

He whines and presses a palm to his head, steadying himself. He rolls onto his side and when his eyes stop seeing two of everything, Takao is met with eyes as green as the hill he rolled down.

"Uhh…" he starts, at a loss of what to say because he probably looked incredibly stupid falling so unceremoniously and interrupting someone's quiet lunch.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" he manages lamely.

But the other boy doesn't say a word, only stares back at him in surprise, because what else can you feel when you get company in such unexpected ways. Company that is also unwelcome. He stands up abruptly and for a moment, Takao thought he was going to help him up, but the boy, whose hair was coloured a pleasing shade of green (but not as green as his eyes), picks up what seems to be a frog statue and stalks off without a word.

Takao blinks in bewilderment at the boy's strange reaction to his entrance. He didn't have to leave so quickly like Takao was some sort of dangerous individual.

"Well that was unhelpful," Takao thinks to himself, gaze lingering on his back (he was tall, so very tall) until he realized he should probably pick himself up.

The university student brushes the dirt away from his clothes and picks as many leaves out of his hair, trying not to think about how unfortunate the day has been, even though it was only in the afternoon. Deeming himself presentable, he surveys the area to determine where he crash landed, but instead of pinpointing his location on campus, he spots a bentou box.

It's black and blends in well under the shade of the tree so he almost missed it, but his keen eyes catch the glint it makes in the sun. Curiously, he approaches the bentou box and his slate blue eyes go as wide as saucers when he realizes what's in the box. With delightful eyes and a watering mouth, he scrambles to the heaven-sent bentou box and almost cries in elation at the variety of neatly-packed home-cooked food. And it was colourful too! Someone really knew how to make deliciously-looking and aesthetically-pleasing bentous.

Takao cradles the box in his palms and reaches for the pair of chopsticks. Finally, he can alleviate his miserable pang of hunger. He's mere seconds from digging the chopsticks into the bentou and ruining it until the rational side of his brain stops him. This lunch box isn't his…it belongs to the guy that he scared off. It's not very polite to then eat his food right? In the first place, it's not polite to eat anyone's food without permission.

Takao's shoulders slump and he reluctantly lowers the box. If he runs, he could catch up to the guy. But he's almost depleted of energy, he's tired and he's hungry and oh, it's just sitting there. It'll be such a waste. He doesn't even know where the guy ran off to, he'll never be able to find him.

But here…God's gift is sitting right here in his lap. So Takao makes sure it doesn't go to waste, guilt be damned.


As expected, Takao immediately feels bad about wolfing down some stranger's lunch and resolves to look for him the next day to apologize and return his bentou box (washed and cleaned of course). The green-haired boy (to which Takao will refer as such until he finds out his name) intrigued him, because of the way his green-eyes swam with surprise and confusion, because of the odd colour of his hair, because of the way he simply left without a word. He decides to consult his senior about it.

"Hey Miyaji-senpai," Takao calls his senior from his communications faculty. "Do you know there's this guy with green hair in our school?"

"Huh?" Miyaji grunts, throwing Takao a questioning look as he shoves his stuff into his bag (they share an elective class together).

"Some guy with green hair," Takao explains again. "Tall, like really tall. With glasses."

"Ah," Miyaji says, realization dawning on him. "You mean Midorima Shintarou."

"Midorima Shintarou?" Takao repeats, rolling the traditionally-sounding name on his tongue.

"Yeah, first year medical student," Miyaji tells him. "He's pretty well-known around here, though not for very good reasons. I'm not surprised you don't know him, since you're always skipping school."

Miyaji makes sure to give Takao a reprimanding look when he says that. It's not like he wants to mother him, but Takao's life wasn't exactly smooth-sailing and Miyaji just wants to look out for him. Who wouldn't when the first-year managed to screw up his class schedule and registered for an elective usually taken by second-years?

"I was looking for a job," Takao says defensively then remembers the topic at hand. "Wait, why is he well-known for not very good reasons?"

"He's has uh, hearing problems," Miyaji explains. "And I guess he's just aloof?"

"He's deaf?" Takao asks in surprise.

"Not deaf," Miyaji rolls his eyes. "He suffers from hearing impairment. There's a difference."

"Oh."

No wonder he didn't even reply.

"Why'd you suddenly ask about him?" he questions. "You getting yourself into trouble again?"

"No! I just…ate his lunch," Takao answers meekly, and decides against explaining the whole story.

Miyaji opens his mouth to demand an elaboration but closes it to his better judgment. "You know what, I don't even want to know," Miyaji says and then turns serious again. "Just don't get caught up in anything unnecessary or—"

"Or you'll run me over I know, I know," Takao finishes for him and waves a dismissive hand in his direction.

"Don't get cocky punk!" Miyaji barks before slinging his bag over his shoulders and ruffling Takao's hair before leaving the lecture hall.

When Takao's all alone in the lecture hall, he leans back into his seat and stares up at the ceiling, digesting what Miyaji told him about the strange boy.

"Midorima Shintarou huh."


Takao takes a while trying to find the place he met Midorima and gives up when he loses his way (the campus is huge). He figures it's much easier to get there from the same way he did yesterday. So Takao goes up to the street and carefully slides down the hill, gracefully this time, and sure enough, Midorima is sitting at the exact same spot.

"Yo!" he calls and when Midorima doesn't turn around, he smacks himself for forgetting he can't hear him properly.

Takao approaches him carefully, lest he leaves without a word again. He slowly inches to the front so that Midorima is only a little startled when he notices him.

"Hey," Takao greets with a wave and his trademark smile. He digs through his bag and fishes out the black bentou box, presenting it to Midorima, who looks at him suspiciously. Closing the distance between them, Takao says, "I'm here to return your bentou box."

He passes the box to Midorima, who accepts it warily. Expecting it to be filled with day-old food, he's surprised to find that it's light. As if it's empty. Frowning, Midorima wordlessly removes the lid to find that the box is indeed empty and someone has eaten all of its contents. He glares at Takao accusingly, and the raven-haired student scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I kinda…finished everything," he laughs nervously as he seats himself a comfortable distance from Midorima. From here, he can see the skin-coloured hearing aid nestled inconspicuously in his ear. "It's because you left so suddenly! And I was really hungry so—ah."

Assuming that Midorima probably can't hear him, Takao starts to gesture. He points a finger at the box and then at his opened mouth, but before he can continue, Midorima interrupts him.

"You don't have to gesture."

Takao meets his eyes in surprise but Midorima doesn't hold their gaze. In a flash, his surprise is replaced by relief.

"So you can talk normally!" he exclaims at the realization. "I thought since you couldn't really hear…"

"I can understand what you're saying if you speak slowly."

Takao notices how deep his voice is.

"I see. I was saying that I finished everything. The bentou," he starts to explain, taking note to slow the pace of his words down. "Sorry! You just left so suddenly and I was really hungry I couldn't take it anymore."

Takao gauges his reaction with remorseful eyes and is relieved when Midorima doesn't seem that offended anymore. But he is still wary.

"I don't have any money so I can't pay you back. I hope an apology will do," he finishes apprehensively.

"That's a bold thing to say for someone who rudely interrupted and devoured my lunch," Midorima answers brusquely.

"In my defence, it was an accident. The interrupting part," Takao retorts. "But fine, I agree my actions were not 'acceptable'."

He admits as he packs the word in air quotes. "When I get the money, I'll pay you back alright?"

"I don't need your money."

"Then what do you want?"

Takao looks at him earnestly, as if he's dead serious about righting his wrong, which wasn't even that much of a big deal anyway. Midorima finds himself contemplating the harmless question, because there was indeed something he wanted, needed in fact. And he needed it soon. So if fate presented him a viable candidate, who was he to refuse?

"Be my note-taker," he says, the statement bordering on a command.

"Your what?"

"My note-taker," Midorima repeats. "It's someone who volunteers to take notes during classes for people like me so I'm able to get a better understanding of the class."

Takao scrunches his nose at that. It's not like he doesn't want to help, but they were from different faculties and it'll be difficult on him to attend medical classes every week just because of a stolen bentou. Noticing Takao's hesitation, Midorima tries to think of a solution. He was in desperate need of a note-taker. The previous one had quit on him because apparently, he had been too difficult to deal with and had too many demands. It was ridiculous because he only had a few standards when it came to note-taking. He needed one before he starts missing chunks of the classes and falls behind his work. There must be something Takao needed too…he looks down and fiddles with his bentou box.

Oh.

"I'll give you lunches in exchange for the notes," he suggests.

"Deal."

Well, that was fast. Midorima pushes his glasses up his nose, proud of himself for thinking quickly and acquiring a new note-taker in such a short period of time.

"So how does this note-taking thing go?" Takao asks.

"You attend my classes, as many as our schedules allow or is reasonable, and simply take notes. You don't have to buy any of the textbooks or materials, just listen to the professor and jot down the main points of the class," Midorima explains.

"Sounds easy enough," Takao quips and their conversation is abruptly punctuated by a loud growl emanating from his starved stomach.

He lets the embarrassing sound drag until it dies down before grinning nervously at Midorima, scratching his nape out of habit. The bespectacled boy rewards Takao with a look of incredulity. Was he always this hungry? Sighing, he thrusts his bentou at Takao in an uncharacteristically magnanimous act, not wanting to witness his predicament any longer.

"Really?!" Takao exclaims, eyes immediately growing wide with anticipation.

"Hurry up and take it."

"Thank you!"

He doesn't waste a second in appeasing his growling stomach. Midorima's bentou was half-finished but Takao doesn't mind. Beggars can't be choosers. Besides, the bentou is so tasty it overshadows everything else. Takao takes huge gulps and chews happily, a blissful expression settling on his young features. Midorima watches him sceptically out of the corner of his eye, was it really that delicious?

After devouring a heavenly kaarage, Takao remembers his manners and swallows as politely as he can manage. He catches sight of a strange object by Midorima's side, and decides to ask him about it, recalling how he saw something like that yesterday.

"Hey Midorima," Takao says and the medical student looks up in surprise, wondering how Takao knew his name. "What's that over there?"

"This?" he asks, setting aside the question for later. "It's my lucky item for today. A teddy bear."

"In karate attire?" Takao probes and when Midorima nods, he bursts out laughing. The first thing Midorima thinks is that Takao laughs very loudly, with no inhibitions, no reservations. He just lets it out in carefree guffaws, clutching at his stomach and brushing a tear from the corner of his eye.

Midorima's first impression of Takao was never a good one. He thought people like Takao were too frivolous. He braces himself for the snarky remarks and mockery that he has constantly experienced for his lucky items. Takao will be no different.

"And what's a lucky item?" the raven-haired boy asks in piqued interest after he collects himself.

"It's an item that increases your luck for the day according to Oha Asa," Midorima answers warily.

"Oha Asa?" he continues to probe.

"A morning broadcast that announces the fortunes of each horoscope for the day."

"Oh! And a teddy bear dressed in a karate attire is the lucky item for…?"

Midorima's eyebrows are knitted in confusion. This isn't usually how it goes. Usually, they make fun of him and he will leave, ignoring the names they call him behind his back.

"Cancers," he replies slowly.

"What's my lucky item then?" Takao asks curiously.

"I don't know. I only check the one for Cancers," Midorima says, growing bemused by the minute. "But what is your star sign?"

"Scorpio!"

"I see. You should check your lucky item on Oha Asa if you want to know," he advises.

"Nah, I don't believe in that stuff," he replies casually. "So you're like a superstitious guy?"

Midorima frowns. "I just do everything that I can. Fate favours those who do their best."

"Fair enough," Takao shrugs, although he thinks it's a little weird for a university student to still believe in that sort of stuff. A medical student no less. But to each his own right?

"You know my name," Midorima states after a pause.

"Oh yeah, my senior told me who you were when I asked about a guy with green hair in our school," Takao answers. "Wanted to find out whose lunch I ate you know?"

Takao's voice was playful and Midorima stopped expecting the mockery he thought he was sure to get. The boy in front of him is not mean, nor is he insensitive, and Midorima never thought his assumptions would be broken by someone like Takao. He was frivolous and overly familiar yes, but maybe it doesn't have to be a bad thing.

"What's your name?" Midorima asks.

"Takao Kazunari!"