Hey, everyone! I have to say, I'm really, really excited to finally start on this drabble series! It's been stewing in my head since March or so, and now I've only just got time to get it started! MidoTaka is my OTP (never had one before), and I ship them so hard that it hurts! The feels, I tell you, the feels! I'm sure plenty of others feel the same way-they're just made for each other, aren't they?! But enough spazzing. This series will be of various lengths and ratings, and although I have the ending all planned out, it's going to be quite a long way from it so yeah... Maybe it won't ever end? XP
Anyways, enjoy! I hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing! Also, I don't own Kuroko no Basket or any of its characters.
"'Sup! Midorima Shintarou! I'm Takao Kazunari."
The Starting Point: Takao Kazunari
To be honest, it was really just a simple introduction. He wanted to be known towards the man he swore to defeat. He wanted to be seen. And in the end, recognized. But now was not the time yet, no. Really though, who the hell would've thought? Fate must really be enjoying her free time.
Kazunari heaved a slight sigh, feeling every muscle, tendon, and sinew in his body throb in pain as he shifted in his seat. He muttered a light curse, narrowing his eyes at the sensation. No, not enough. He still had to train. Train harder, stay and practice longer. At this point, he could not—would not allow himself to stand on the same court as Shin-chan yet. He lifted a hand in front of his face, reaching out. I made a vow, Shin-chan… and I'm planning to follow through with it.
It's too bad I can't get him to remember that one time I got my ass royally kicked by him. Suddenly, he snorted and began to chuckle lightly to himself. Ah, maybe that was for the better after all…?
For him though, he'll never forget. The image of the basketball soaring high, higher and higher. The muscles of his neck burning as he continued to watch the arc of the shot—never blinking, even as the court lights glared into his eyes from above. The final, almost whispered 'swish' of the net as the ball fell through.
He'll never forget the brilliance of that green.
