I don't own Kuroko no Basuke. I don't think this actually works; of course Takao would take care of his health, but I just really wanted to write this and it helped when I was feeling ill XD
The Intervention
The reason that Takao watched Oha Asa's daily horoscope was simple enough. Not to check Scorpio's rankings, but to check for Cancer's daily ratings, especially on the day of a match. At least then, he could be warned if the journey on the rickshaw would take longer because they would have to go around every freaking shop to find that one figurine of a platypus wearing a pink bandanna and brandishing a banana or something ridiculous like that.
But that morning was one when he couldn't be bothered to even get out of bed, let alone turn the TV on. Breakfast was a dead affair during which Takao almost faceplanted into his bowl of cereal several times. When the doorbell rang it took him a few seconds to place the noise.
"Takao, open the door."
That it was Midorima didn't register in his mind for a little while even when he'd opened the door. "I was just on my way to pick you up, Shin-chan," he said.
"Cancers have the worst luck today."
Takao stretched and leaned against the wall. "Uh-huh," he said distractedly. Maybe tonight he could skip training. If not he might just drop dead halfway through.
"Scorpios aren't in a good ranking either," Midorima continued, pushing a small jewellery box into Takao's arms. "That's your lucky item for today. I'm not taking any risks."
"Oh. Thanks." His blank tone earned a glare from Midorima.
"They're predicting a disaster for us both, Takao, you could be a little less…" he trailed off and frowned at the dining room table. "Is that your breakfast or your sisters?"
"The cereal?"
"Yes."
"It's mine. My sister's away for the week."
He bustled past Takao to pick up the box. "Are you being serious? Is this what you usually have for breakfast?"
"So what?" Takao said, taking the box from him.
"And the bowl of sugar too?"
"I didn't add much," he whined. "It's none of your business anyway. I'm just really tired today."
Midorima pushed his glasses up and sighed. "Don't add sugar if you're tired. You're a sportsperson; you should know that."
Takao gave an easy laugh. "It's because I do so much sport that I can get away with eating that stuff. So, what's your lucky item for today?"
"That horoscope is really always right. This is a disaster."
"Stop being so dramatic, Shin-chan. My diet is not an issue. What's your lucky item for today?"
"A blue tartan scarf."
"Well that's lucky," Takao said with a laugh, ignoring Midorima's glare. No doubt he was about to say something along the lines of 'Fate is not something to laugh at, nanodayo' but Takao interrupted him as he was about to talk. "My sister has one. Wait here a minute."
If he had been as superstitious as Midorima then he would have blamed the bad day he had merely on his ranking. As was always the case when his ranking was bad, Midorima hardly spoke the entire day and kept the lucky item close to him. Takao's reasoning was that he himself was merely tired. So the fact that he got a detention after school for sleeping in class was nothing to do with his ranking, though Midorima did give him a smug look. "It just means the lucky item isn't working," he muttered.
"It means you don't do your best, which includes your diet."
"My diet is fine," Takao muttered, but at that point he doubted it would make any difference.
When the detention was finally over Takao's own sense of duty compelled him to at least catch the end of practice.
"Where have you been, Takao?" Miyaji said as soon as he arrived in the sports' hall.
"Detention."
Ootsubo pressed a hand to his forehead. "You in detention and the idiot over there refusing to shoot because of terrible luck… you're both ridiculous." He gesticulated to where Midorima was standing.
"Don't lump me together with him."
It turned out he had only come in time to help put everything away (again, not as a result of Scorpio's low ranking), but even after that he had to wait for Midorima to decide how many shots he should do with his ranking so low and no important matches coming up. To prevent himself from falling asleep (and possibly kicking Shin-chan right where it hurt) he decided to take a walk around, leaving Midorima muttering to himself.
Argh, he couldn't handle this alone. Sugar, he thought to himself. I need sugar. He managed to fish out enough yen to get some chocolate from the vending machine before wandering back.
"Takao!"
Not expecting Midorima to pop up from nowhere (since when did he have the Kuroko ability?) he shrieked and dropped the rest of the chocolate on the floor. At least Midorima wasn't the type to laugh at people, so he ignored Takao's reaction and instead said, "Why are you eating that? Hasn't your diet been bad enough today?"
"I didn't have lunch, okay? I'm hungry."
"And whose fault was that?"
"Yours. You're the one who came early."
He sighed and pushed his glasses up. "We're leaving now."
"Of course, Ace-sama," Takao responded sarcastically.
Midorima frowned at him. "Are you annoyed with me?"
"You made me drop my chocolate!"
The next morning was not as bad, so Takao only added a spoonful of sugar to his cereal instead of the three he had added the day before. He got to Midorima's house with no calamities, returned the jewellery box and was actually feeling pretty content as he went to practice after school.
Midorima was already there, but strangely not shooting. Instead, he was standing next to Ootsubo, which, to be honest, should have ticked Takao off. As it was, he shrugged it off and joined the other first years where they were warming up.
"Takao."
He paused in a shoulder stretch. "Yeah?" Ootsubo was looking quite concerned and Takao let his arms drop. "Uh… is everything okay?"
"No." It was actually Midorima who responded then, but Ootsubo waved him quiet.
"As one of our starters you should be taking care of yourself."
Takao's expression was blank. "Yes?"
"And I heard from Midorima that you have an addiction to sugar."
All the sugar in the world would not be enough to stop him from kicking Midorima where it hurt later. "That's a complete lie!" he spluttered. "It's not even possible to be addicted to sugar." Which, to be honest, was a shot in the dark.
"It's more addictive than cocaine, Bakao!" Midorima shouted, causing the rest of the first years to look over curiously.
"You made that up," Takao retorted.
"I did not-!" he stopped midsentence when Ootsubo raised a hand.
"Your diet is as important as anything, Takao, which is why we will be making sure that you are fully detoxified."
Takao raised his eyebrows. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"We will each be observing you for a period of 24 hours. In that time, you will not be allowed to touch sugar."
Takao laughed to hide the slight panic he felt (no sugar? How was he supposed to survive with no sugar?) and waved a hand dismissively. "There's no point. I have my 'addiction'," he made air quotations and rolled his eyes, "fully under control."
"Then it won't make any difference to you," Midorima said.
"Okay. We'll start tomorrow morning. I'll go first. Kimura can go second, then Miyaji and finally Midorima. You should be over it by then."
"Over what?" he called after Ootsubo as he left as a last desperate attempt to save himself. "Do you really want to waste your holidays watching me?"
He didn't answer and Takao turned to glare at Midorima. "You idiot."
Midorima pushed his glasses up and fixed Takao with a cold stare. "Shut up, Bakao. I'm not risking this team because you're an idiot."
"I'm the idiot?" the shriek prompted a few curious glances, and even Midorima was looking slightly amused. "Fine. You can make your own way home."
He needed to stock up on sugar anyway. And possibly find some good hiding places where he could eat something without being spotted.
OOTSUBO
If he wasn't in such a bad mood, then when he went downstairs the next morning and found Ootsubo, knitting of all things, then he would have laughed at the fact that he was knitting.
"What the fuck," he muttered.
"Watch your language, kouhai," he said, still managing to sound scary even when he was knitting.
"You're knitting."
"So? I'm still more manly than you without even trying."
"What the fuck," he repeated, ducking when a knitting – knitting – needle was thrown, point first, at his head like a javelin.
"Language!"
"Am I dreaming or something?"
"Not dreaming, no. Your breakfast is in the kitchen. Plain rice."
"Plain rice?" Takao scuttled into the kitchen and started opening cupboard doors to try to find his cereal.
"No point," Ootsubo called from the living room. "I talked to your mother and she agreed it was for the best. She helped me clear it all out. Including," the pause at this point seemed menacing, "your hiding places."
Oh, shit. All his emergency chocolate was gone? "How did she know my hiding places?"
"Your sister did. We called her."
He mentally sent a curse to her. That was the last time he was telling her anything.
The rice was probably one of the most boring things he had eaten in a long time, but with Ootsubo observing him with his arms crossed and the knitting needles behind his ear (again, if he wasn't in a bad mood he would have probably died laughing) he didn't want to take his chances. When he had finished, Ootsubo placed a glass of orange juice in front of him.
"But I don't like orange juice," Takao whined.
"Tough. In about an hour we're going jogging."
"But-"
"I don't care."
The entire day was one of the worst of Takao's life. Never before had he eaten such boring things and not even been allowed to watch TV for his hour long idol show (it wasn't all lost, though; he called his sister for a resumé). He went upstairs early and collapsed on his bed, sending a hundred mental curses to Midorima.
KIMURA
Takao woke up from a strange dream where giant marshmallows were running away from him on legs which looked like carrots when his phone buzzed. His hand shot out automatically, knocked off his lamp and clock from his bedside table and he groaned at the large crashes, more-or-less picking up his phone and scrabbling to open it.
"Hello?" No answer. "Hell- oh." He took it away from his ear and squinted at the screen. Text message from Midorima.
How is it going?
Takao shook his head and decided to leave him hanging for a while.
"Takao! Get up! Breakfast is on the table!"
Takao pushed the covers off his body before trembling from the cold. Had no-one put the heating on? Wrapping the blankets around himself he stumbled downstairs.
"Takao, if you don't come down right now I am dragging you out of bed!"
"I'm coming!" he shouted back, kicking the door to the kitchen open.
Kimura, wearing an apron, brandished a spatula at him. "But first…" he trailed off. "Why have you got your blankets like that?"
Takao brought them tighter around himself and leaned against the counter. "I'm trying out a new fashion," he said sarcastically. "It's cold, okay?"
"Well then this should warm you up. Fifty sit-ups before you can eat."
Takao burrowed deeper into his blankets. "No."
"I'm in charge, Takao. Your mother even said so."
"Why is everyone ganging up on me?"
"Fifty sit-ups."
"No."
The spatula came scarily close to his face. "Fifty sit-ups or I shove this where the sun doesn't shine."
Takao burst out laughing.
"Stupid kouhais," Kimura muttered before grabbing the sheets and yanking them off.
"Hey…" Takao exclaimed before he threw them back.
"Go put some clothes on, you pervert. Why are you naked in the kitchen?"
"I wasn't naked. I had my sheets. You're the pervert; you ripped them off me." He wrapped them around himself again.
"I don't even know why we're going to so much trouble for you. We can always find another point guard and train them up."
"I'm the only Shin-chan to Japanese dictionary we have."
"Go put some clothes on. And then, a hundred sit-ups."
"I can't help but notice that it's doubled," Takao grumbled, but complied.
After the sit-ups (which was entirely unnecessary; his stamina wasn't the issue, just apparently his 'more-addictive-than-cocaine' sugar intake)Kimura dropped a bowl of porridge and a glass of orange juice in front of him.
"Why did you have a spatula if you were making porridge?"
"No questions. Eat. We'll go for a run afterwards."
"But it's raining."
"I don't care."
By the time they made it back, Takao was shivering from the rain and glaring daggers at Kimura, who had seemed rather nonplussed at the weather. He told Takao to take a shower before coming back down for a 'treat' (because that wasn't ominous at all). Before he stepped in the shower he sent a single-word text to Midorima.
Die.
The 'treat' was a complete disappointment – a bowl of various fruit and vegetables – but the way Kimura brandished it with a massive smile on his face made Takao wonder whether he actually thought that it was a good surprise. He gave Kimura an uncertain look before picking through it.
"You should be happier," Kimura said, having already finished his own bowl.
"For the rabbit food?" Takao said sarcastically. "Yeah, thanks a bunch, senpai."
Kimura laughed. "Midorima really is the clever one, isn't he? Fruit have lots of sugar in them."
Takao looked at Kimura before diving onto the grapes. And actually, the fruit did help with his mood and he even helped in the kitchen afterwards.
The food was more interesting than the day before; for dinner he made a spicy curry that almost made Takao forget about the various lost foods that he had stashed around the apartment (all of which had gone; Ootsubo and his mother really had been thorough). Kimura even let him watch his idol show.
Takao checked his phone before going to sleep to see another message from Midorima.
It's for the good of the team, fool.
MIYAJI
Takao wondered for a while why he was filled with so much dread when he woke up the next morning, and it only took a few minutes before he remembered who was observing him that day.
Miyaji. Out of all of them, that was the one he'd been most terrified about. Ootsubo and Kimura weren't scary, and goodness knew Midorima wasn't as scary as he wanted to be, but Miyaji.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck, he thought, burrowing into his covers. Maybe if he just stayed in bed for the day he would be left alone. If he was still enough under the covers then even if Miyaji came up to check on him he would leave him alone.
But all hopes were dashed when the door was kicked open and a massive clanging resonated around the room. Takao poked his head out from under the covers to see Miyaji banging a wooden spoon around a pan. "Wake up, kouhai! Big day today!"
Takao whimpered and tried to retreat back into his cocoon. "Don't wanna."
Miyaji sighed loudly and threw the wooden spoon at him – it bounced off his head – and tugged the sheets from him, seeming unperturbed by the fact that he was naked.
"Why are you wearing socks?" he asked blankly. Well, not entirely naked.
"What is it with you senpais and ripping my sheets from me?" Takao said, catching a corner of it and tugging it back. "And I was cold."
"But you're naked."
"No I'm not," Takao said, sticking a foot out from under the sheet. "See? Socks."
"You're a savage." He ignored Takao's complaints and picked up the wooden spoon from where it had fallen. "Be downstairs in five minutes."
"Fine," he muttered, his tone earning him another thwap with the wooden spoon.
As soon as Miyaji had gone out he scrabbled for his phone to text Midorima.
Actually, don't die just yet. I want the honours. You're dead tomorrow.
The response came less than a minute after the text had sent:
Don't be ridiculous, Bakao.
"You're the Bakao," he said, shoving his phone down the side of his bed and ignoring the fact that his words didn't actually make much sense and Midorima wasn't, in fact, in the room and so could not hear him.
"So what was the big day planned?" he asked Miyaji when he'd made it downstairs.
"One-on-one basketball and a training session in the gym. But, before that… muesli with low fat milk."
He placed the bowl on the table, whilst Takao groaned and collapsed into a chair. "Girly food," he grumbled.
"Tough."
"I'm not a girl."
"It's that or nothing."
"I'll go with nothing."
Miyaji took out the wooden spoon from what Takao assumed was his back pocket and tapped it menacingly against his other hand. "Repeat that?"
Takao started eating the muesli.
Miyaji was as bad as Nakatani and apparently thought it perfectly within his power to hit Takao over the head whenever he thought that he wasn't trying hard enough (which wasn't fair; he was trying his hardest. He wouldn't risk it; Miyaji was scary when he got angry). When the workout at the gym was finally over and Takao was home, wishing the worst of luck to Midorima for at least the next week, he collapsed face-down onto the sofa whining like a wounded puppy, very close to calling his mother to come home early.
"Stop being such a child. I told you that if you beat me you would only need to do an hour at the gym."
"I did four hours."
"Well you didn't beat me."
Takao burrowed his face into a pillow and refused to say any more.
Dinner was pasta with vegetables and meat, which Miyaji put on the table with a flourish, saying, "The Italians are fantastic, aren't they?"
Takao, who was still feeling decidedly disgruntled with his senpai, responded with, "I've never cared much for pasta," which earned him a punch on the shoulder, causing him to choke and almost fly out of his seat.
"So tomorrow you have Midorima keeping an eye on you?" Miyaji asked once Takao had regained his breath and rubbed the ache in his shoulder.
"I've been looking forward to this one."
"No killing our ace-sama."
"I'm sure we'll find someone to replace him."
A glass of water was passed to Takao and Miyaji shook his head. "I'm sorry to tell you that you're much easier to replace than Midorima."
Takao glared moodily into his plate.
MIDORIMA
Takao was up a lot earlier the next day but stayed in bed for a little while longer to feel sorry for himself and pine after the fact that he hadn't had any chocolate for close to a century. He heard the doorbell ring and his mother let Midorima in and sounded particularly cheerful as she did so. It really didn't help Takao with his plan to murder Midorima, dismember him, and drop off his remains at Ootsubo's house that his mother adored Midorima.
He sat up as he heard Midorima approach his room and carefully arranged his expression into one of anger and dislike, which really wasn't difficult at that point. And as soon as Midorima knocked on the door and let himself in Takao glared at him and merely said, "You," in a voice of pure disgust and venom.
It didn't bode well for Takao's ego that Midorima actually looked slightly amused.
"You'll be glad to hear that Scorpio is rather high up in Oha-Asa."
"Why would I be glad to hear that?"
"It's predicting a great change. I'm hoping it has to do with how you take care of yourself."
"The change is that I'm going to kill you and be a lot happier as a result!" Ah, this wasn't good. He could feel himself going hysterical. He tried to remember the various yakuza films he'd watched and settled his expression into calm, patient disgust and considered which knives would work best for the dismembering.
Midorima switched the snow globe he was holding to the other hand and adjusted the bandage on his middle finger. "Are you getting up?" he asked impatiently.
Takao huffed and crossed his arms but nodded and complied.
He got some ammunition to use against Midorima when he brought out a pre-made and wrapped bowl of porridge from his bag and at Takao's quizzical look (he was wondering whether Midorima would turn into Mary Poppins and bring out a lamp or a dining table) said, "Your mother said I wasn't allowed to use the kitchen. Apparently someone told her that I'm not very good."
Takao crowed and made sure to make his laugh crueller than usual. "You're a disaster in the kitchen. But you can't even make a bowl of porridge? You're that useless outside the court?"
The glare that Midorima gave him was impressively venomous and he all but slammed the porridge on the table. "Eat that."
Takao eyed it warily. "Did you make it?" That wasn't just for teasing purposes; Takao didn't want to risk his life.
Midorima shook his head. "My sister did."
"Oh well that's okay then."
Takao spent most of the morning sending detrimental remarks in Midorima's way or completely ignoring him (both of which didn't seem to effect Midorima whatsoever), and it wasn't until mid-afternoon that Midorima left him to his own devices for a while and he was able to sit on the sofa plucking at a cushion and feeling generally miserable. It had been so long since he'd had anything unhealthy that he could hardly remember anything about them. He would sell his right kidney (or maybe he'd just sell Midorima; he should be able to get a decent price for that weirdo) to be able to taste chocolate again.
"Shin-chan!" he shouted. A slightly muffled reply came from upstairs and he continued with, "Fuck you!"
He wasn't entirely sure, but it sounded like the reply was 'fuck you yourself'.
He sighed in lament and slouched on the sofa until his butt was almost off the seat and considered dropping the entire way off and hiding under the sofa until Midorima thought that he'd run away. Or maybe he'd sit on the sofa and Takao could tie his shoelaces together. But then there was a slight crackling, one he only heard in his dreams now, and a hand down the side of the sofa cushion revealed that there was a bar of chocolate there.
"No fucking way," Takao whispered, drawing it out reverently. He kissed the wrapping before opening it ever so slowly (why did the wrapping have to be so loud? Didn't the companies think about dire and dangerous situations such as this?) and revealing the pure, glossy browness of heaven. "I've missed you," he said, wasting a few precious minutes to gaze at it.
"Takao!"
Takao let off a train of expletives and hurriedly tried to shove the chocolate in his mouth, but Midorima leapt at him. The impact of his body sent Takao sprawling on the floor, trapped against it by Midorima's mammoth stature, and the chocolate flew out of his hands and slid across the floor until it hit the other wall.
"No!" he shouted, scratching at Midorima's arms. "Get off me you idiot!"
Instead, he pressed down on Takao even more, who hit his forehead against the floor in exasperation. "I'm not going to let you, Takao."
"Oh my, Shin-chan," Takao said with a snort of laughter. "We'll have to get married now if you want to keep my virtue intact."
The various splutterings and exclamations of 'Bakao!' made Takao wish he could turn round to see just how red Midorima's face had gotten. As it was, all he could see was the wooden floor and laugh at how Midorima tried to form an intelligible sentence. But it worked, Midorima raised himself a bit further up and Takao scrambled out from under him, crying out, "I can't believe you fell for that!" Midorima yelped behind him as Takao kicked out and grabbed hold of his ankle but it wasn't enough, Takao reached the chocolate and snapped off a couple of pieces, hiding one in his hand and popping the other in his mouth, going weak at the taste…
Midorima flipped him over onto his back and straddled his waist, keeping hold of his shoulders. "Spit that out now Takao!"
Takao puffed out his cheeks and shook his head, hardly able to keep from laughing at how ridiculous the situation was.
"You're going to ruin all our hard work just because you're a sugar addict?"
"I'm not a sugar addict," Takao mumbled through his full mouth. Midorima wrinkled his nose.
"Don't speak with your mouth full."
"Okay," Takao said, swallowing the chocolate.
"No, that's not what I… you… Bakao!"
Takao snickered.
"What are you laughing at?"
"This is ridiculous."
"What is?"
Takao cocked an eyebrow, grinned wickedly and bucked his hips up slightly. Midorima flushed the darkest red he had ever seen, yelped loudly and slapped him as he burst out laughing. "You're too easy, Shin-chan." Still grinning, he popped the other piece of chocolate between his teeth and said, "Want some?" with a wink.
Midorima's eyes widened and he clambered off Takao so fast he almost face-planted, which certainly didn't help Takao's giggling fits.
"What is wrong with you?"
"I haven't had sugar in ages, Shin-chan. It's bound to make me go a little loopy."
"Then please never eat sugar again. It's really rather unpleasant."
Takao smirked and sat up. "You'll hurt my feelings, Shin-chan," he said, leaning closer.
"You'll deserve it."
They were only a few centimetres away from each other and Midorima glared at him, refusing to give ground and daring him to even come a little bit closer.
That blush really was adorable; Shin-chan could be so expressive sometimes. Takao couldn't really resist, then. Just the thought of how he would react was too much, so he pressed a quick kiss to Midorima's lips.
What he hadn't expected, however, was how warm Midorima was. And how his lips parted slightly as he gasped and a shiver ran down his body and he didn't move away. So the quick kiss turned into another one and another one, Takao keeping his eyes slightly open to gauge Midorima's reaction.
He definitely didn't expect Midorima drawing him closer and tilting his head and placing his hand lightly on Takao's waist. The warmth was radiating from where they were touching to fill Takao's entire body.
No, he hadn't expected that. But the loss of control wasn't something that scared Takao at all, so he shuffled closer without breaking the kiss. At least this would be a worthy distraction from sugar.