Warning: n/a
Disclaimer: hah ahahah haaa
Notes: hello yes i'm back with an update. thank you akashi4.15kuroko for beta-reading! and oh, to the anonymous reviewer who offered to beta-read for me: if your offer still stands, feel free to message me! c: other than that, enjoy this chapter ~
一
30 Dec 2012 — Midorima's Reflection
My parents were ideal.
They weren't divorced. They had enough money to support a family ten times our size.
We never fought.
17 Jan 2012 — 14h07 — Taiga's Cafe
When Himuro invites him out for lunch to celebrate passing the most recent test, Midorima accepts. By lunch, he assumes that they will go to the fast food place down the street from their apartment. This, apparently, isn't so; Himuro takes him to the outskirts of the city, and from there, leads him into a smaller town where a place called "Taiga's Cafe" resides at the corner of the street.
Midorima recognizes the name from somewhere, but he can't exactly place where. As he frustrates himself with figuring where he heard the name Taiga before, Himuro holds the door open for him. Moments later, he's greeted by a familiar face.
He's a man of twenty-three years, give or take. His vibrant red hair appears brighter against the dark undertones, and the generosity of these colors match well with his crimson eyes. But of course, Midorima doesn't clue in on who it is until he notices the eyebrows — the split eyebrows that are so particular that it reminds him immediately who Taiga is.
Kagami Taiga. The basketball star. The light that surpassed Aomine's own.
What is he doing in a café, nevertheless owning it?
His question goes unasked as Kagami embraces Himuro. It's a sweet reunion — one that Midorima wishes he can partake in, but pride is still something he cherishes, and with that, he inevitably refuses to engage in any intimate contact with someone he barely knows.
When Kagami finally draws back, he nods once at Midorima, acknowledging him, before leading him and Himuro to a booth at the back of the restaurant. The acuity of his manners shocks Midorima, for he remembers the other as a man of brashness. He doesn't mention this, though, and accepts the menu given to him.
"So, uh, our special —" Kagami clears his throat. "— the special for today is chicken katsu complete with house salad, rice, and —"
While he continues rambling on about a particular dish, Midorima scrutinizes the selections. Some of these are international — French, Italian, Chinese — and to think that Kagami had actually invested his time in this is mind-blowing.
He sets the menu down and strings his fingers together.
"See anything you like?"
Midorima glances from Himuro to Kagami. "Give me a minute."
It's apparent that their relationship hasn't touched maturity yet, since the moment Midorima drops his gaze, he hears Kagami mutter something about him not changing at all. Midorima doesn't bother arguing; he knows well enough that the only thing that has changed is his extensive knowledge of medical procedures.
"You wanna check out the back?"
He lifts his head again and sees Kagami looking at Himuro. Assuming the question isn't directed at him, he turns away, a bit embarrassed. Himuro, on the other hand, accepts the offer, and after promising to be back in a few minutes, leaves with Kagami.
Trying not to let this get to him, Midorima sits back and examines the interior design of the café. Whether or not Kagami chose this way of decorating, Midorima finds himself impressed. The walls are painted a warm shade of crimson and gold, which assaults the light oak-wood furniture. Assortment of floral markings line the edge and sink into the carpet. It's a place of integrity — a place of warmth and steadiness. Midorima likes it more than he should.
He unfolds his hands and turns his attention to the window. Outside, a roughly dressed man passes by on a bicycle; across the street, a young woman appears to be scolding her daughter. There isn't anything significant about what he sees. He himself has rode a bike before, and he's been scolded.
Humanity itself hasn't changed much.
"You really stand out, you know?"
Midorima picks up on this voice, but he doesn't move to answer. He figures it's directed at someone else, considering it's rare for anyone — especially strangers — to approach him with such bold statement.
"Shin-chan."
— Maybe it isn't a stranger.
He glances up, and his eyes meet with silvery blue ones. He pieces this bit of information with the facial expression and overall appearance. The man has a small nose and thin eyebrows; his hair is dark and parted down the middle, but the most distinguishable feature is his mouth. His lips are quirked upward, resembling a mixture of both a smile and a smirk. It's too nostalgic for his liking.
"I didn't expect to see you here," Midorima responds once he manages to work his mouth, "Takao."
"I work here." Takao slides into the seat opposite of his.
"How long?"
"Almost three months."
Midorima draws his hands away from the tabletop and folds his arms across his chest. He analyzes his company and finds that the only noticeable difference is that Takao has grown into a man. For some reason, this disappoints him.
"I see."
Here's Takao in flesh and blood. His expressions, his appearance, and his mannerisms scream the person he once knew — once knew, because now, he's just a stranger with a familiar name.
Midorima's hot in his seat. The sweater he has on is insulating too much heat, and he feels embarrassed. He wants to leave — disappear, possibly, but the thought of getting up and leaving is far-fetched.
Here's Takao in flesh and blood. Here's the man he once loved in flesh and blood.
It's embarrassing, because he's sure that Takao can hear the pounding of his heart, see the reddening of his ears, and feel the rising excitement of this fated meeting. He's shocked, to say at the least. Of all places he can meet Takao, destiny has chosen this café as their place to reunite. Fate works in odd ways sometimes.
"Did you come here alone?" Takao leans forward, resting his arms on the table.
Midorima glances around to see if Himuro is anywhere in sight, but when there isn't a trace of him, he turns back to Takao. "I came with a classmate."
"A friend?"
"I suppose."
He picks on his sweater to allow air in, but it fails to work. Diverting his eyes, he glances at Takao's hands, and for a second, wishes that he's holding them. This thought, however, is quickly dismissed when Takao shifts.
"So how have you been?"
A lot has happened over the span of five years. After he started medical school, the life he knew — the one filled with joys of basketball and whatnot — was taken away and shoved into the corner of his mind. In fact, the information he had to retain crowded his memory to the point where he didn't — couldn't — think of basketball (or Takao, for that matter). Factor in volunteering as an intern and studying for exams, and it's plausible to say that his head was consumed by school. But of course, Takao doesn't need to know the details.
"Well."
"Just well?"
"What were you expecting me to say?"
Takao leans back and laughs. "That's more like the Shin-chan I know!" A few strands of hair falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn't seem to take notice of this. "I was expecting ... ah, spectacular or dying? Something extreme." He flicks his wrist. "But Shin-chan is Shin-chan, so I should've expected a boring answer."
This eases the tension. Before, Midorima shied himself away from idle chit-chat simply because Takao seemed like a stranger, but now, after seeing that Takao really hasn't changed much, he feels more comfortable.
"How ... have you been?"
Despite asking this, Midorima doesn't want to know — at least, not really. He's sure that Takao has a lot to tell — meeting new people, experiencing new things. It's envy that separates Midorima from wanting an answer.
"I could be better, but I'm not complaining."
"Why is that?"
"Because you're here."
Sickly sweet.
Just like Takao.
Midorima sniffs. "You're ridiculous."
"Haven't I always been?"
He glances up briefly to meet Takao's eyes. Maybe Takao hasn't changed at all. Yes, years have done their duty on the other's appearance, but, if anything, maturity makes Takao more ... attractive.
"Where is your class —"
"Waiter!"
Takao's attention diverts to a table across the room. After motioning to them that he'll be right over, he turns to Midorima. "You want anything to drink?"
At this moment, Midorima doesn't. All he really wants is to talk with Takao more, but like always, he refrains from saying such. "Water's fine."
"All right. Be right back!" And so Takao leaves.
Midorima knows many things, but the one thing he's unsure of is why his heart is racing as fast as it is. Is it out of nervousness ... or something else? With five years under him, he thought he's over Takao, but that might not be the case. Seeing him here, breathing, well, and beautiful, Midorima can't help but fall for him again.
It's infuriating and disgusting, but subconsciously, he knows it's the reason why his heart is hammering against his chest.
As he recounts their first meeting in years, Himuro returns with Kagami and an appetizer. From looks alone, Midorima can see that the dish has taken some time to prepare; the design and overall appeal to it is one fit for a fancy restaurant. This in itself says a lot about Kagami, but he doesn't bother commenting on it.
"It's on me," Kagami says, setting the plate down. "Do you want a drink?"
Himuro peers up from picking at the appetizer. "I'll have coffee." He then looks at Midorima as if giving him permission to answer.
"Takao's getting me water."
"Actually, Takao got you oshiruko¹." Midorima's sights slide over to the waiter standing next to Kagami. "I figure you still like this stuff." He sets the can down. "This is a funny reunion, isn't it?"
And it is. Midorima never thought he would be in this position; yes, he had hoped to cross paths with Takao again, but he wasn't expecting to meet Kagami along the way, nevertheless Himuro (who he couldn't recall until the other reminded him that he was Murasakibara's partner). But the idea that Takao somehow connected himself to Kagami, and him to Himuro, is laughable. Fate really does work in strange ways, and this reunion is the sole proof of that.
"Thank you." Midorima leans over to open the can.
The sound of it opening is awkward among the silence that lingers, but he doesn't let it bother him. While Himuro tastes the appetizer, Midorima brings the can to his mouth and takes a sip. The oshiruko tastes sweeter than ever.
"I'll leave Takao to you guys." Kagami pats his waiter's shoulder before quickly dismissing himself from the strained atmosphere.
"He made me clean the entire café this morning," Takao reports, pulling out a small notebook and pen. "What would you like to have?"
Though Midorima hears the question, he doesn't fully interpret its meaning and goes on to ask about the first. "Why?"
Takao shrugs. "Something about his brother — you —" He nods at Himuro. "— coming over."
"It's just like Taiga to show off," Himuro comments with a joyous hum. "Can I get number six?"
"With or without fried rice?"
"With."
After scribbling down Himuro's order, Takao looks at Midorima. "And you?"
"I'll have the same without the rice."
Takao bobs his head as he writes this order down, and once that is done, he picks up the two menus and leaves with a promise to return with Himuro's coffee. Given that their waiter is out of earshot, Himuro leans forward.
"You're interested." It isn't a question, and this flusters Midorima. Had he been that obvious?
"I am not," he answers in a quipped manner, lifting the can of red bean soup to his lips once more.
Himuro isn't like most others; when given any sort of situation, he doesn't press the matter, and Midorima finds this amusing. His interpretation of someone from America has always been loud, rude, and obnoxious, but here, only Kagami lives up to that stereotype (then again, he can argue that the other's a little less obnoxious — but that's beside the case).
"All right. Whatever you say."
And the subject is dropped. Himuro doesn't continue to pressure him into answering, and the only reason for that resides in his observation. He knows — and Midorima knows that he knows — that Midorima and Takao have rekindled a connection.
— o —
22 Jan 2012 — 12h37 — Taiga's Cafe
He visits again.
It isn't a spur of the moment's decision — if anything, it is everything but that. For the last week, he had been debating on whether or not he should drop by Taiga's Cafe. The downside of visiting is the possibility of embarrassing himself; on the other hand, visiting may very well give him a chance to revive the relationship he had with Takao.
Takao.
It's been so long since he has thought of that name.
Takao.
He won't say that he's in love, but there's something about the other that makes him yearn for what they had.
Feelings aside, Midorima pursues fate. With the daily lucky item — a chess piece — in his hand, he opens the door to the café and steps in.
Takao isn't anywhere in sight. To the right are a handful of customers enjoying their Sunday morning with a cup of coffee; to his left is a family of five digging into breakfast. Ahead of him, behind the cash register, is an unfamiliar figure. She's a cute girl — petite, dimpled smile, long dark hair, but she isn't Takao. Disappointment scratches his surface, but nevertheless, he seats himself down at the bar next to the cash register.
"I'll have oshiruko."
"We don't serve that here."
Midorima blinks. He's certain that he had it last time —
Oh.
Takao must have known that he was visiting.
The sudden urge to see the other again overwhelms him. "Is Takao here?"
Her lips part slightly as she tilts her head. "Ah ... Takao-kun? He doesn't have a shift today."
"When is he on shift?"
There's a twinkle in her eye. "I think Monday through Saturday from two to six. Is it important? I can leave a message for him —"
"That'll be unnecessary. I'll have a glass of water."
"If that's what you insist." As she bustles off to fill his order, Midorima glances down at his watch.
He's much too early this time. If he wants to see Takao, he needs to come around two.
— o —
03 Feb 2012 — 14h40 — Taiga's Cafe
He tells himself that he's only passing by, and that he doesn't have any intentions to go in. Really, he doesn't — unless he happens to see Takao working, and well, today, it looks like Takao is working.
He reaches out to open the door and then hesitates. Maybe he's taking everything too fast — or, what if Takao doesn't want to see him at all? It's been five years since their separation, and Midorima can't be sure if the fire is still there. (Not that it really matters — he's only seeking friendship this time around, right?) Swallowing his pride, or what's left of it, he pulls the door open.
Despite it being a Friday afternoon, the café isn't as crowded. A few scatters of people surround the room, adding homeliness to the atmosphere, but other than that, they remain in the background. His attention focuses on the man who is peering at him half out of amusement and half out of joy. It's only when Midorima strides closer does that joy dissipate into full amusement.
"Hey," the man greets, tilting his head and allowing a few strands of hair to fall over his eyes.
Again, Midorima is tempted to brush them away, but instead, he simply takes a seat at the bar.
"What, I don't get a greeting? You're as cold as ever, Shin-chan," Takao huffs. "I didn't know you were coming today, so I didn't get any oshiruko."
"There's no need." Midorima shifts in his seat. "I'll have —" His eyes flicker to the menu overhead. "— green tea."
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Kagami's not a bad cook, you know."
That, Midorima can't deny. After feasting on his food two weeks ago, Midorima can say it's the best international food he's ever tasted. Given, he hasn't had a lot of food from outside of this country, but he can't deny the exquisite taste of Kagami's cuisine. And he supposes that that's something he should appreciate about the other.
"I already ate."
"So you came here just to see me?" The corner of Takao's mouth lifts into a generic smirk.
Out of habit, Midorima adjusts his glasses. "I'll have dumplings."
This response gets a chuckle out of Takao, who finally pushes himself off the counter. "Coming right up." He flashes Midorima a quick smile before disappearing to the back.
It's embarrassing in more ways than one. Here he is — a grown man of twenty-three — succumbing to the temptation he has promised to leave behind. What a fool he is.
Takao returns moments later with a glass of water, a plate of dumplings, and a pair of chopsticks. "Order up!" With one fell swoop, he places everything in front of Midorima. "Dig in."
And he does.
Picking up the chopsticks, Midorima glances over the dumplings piled on top of each other. As simple as they are, they emit a sense of beauty. This is the craft Kagami himself has invested in, and well, maybe this time he'll pay him a compliment. Maybe.
"Do you still believe in the Oha-Asa stuff?"
Since he's half-way through biting into a dumpling, Midorima peers up through his eyelashes. He holds his gaze for a moment before dropping it to chew and swallow. Once he finishes his bite, he tilts his chin up. "If you're going to tease me about it, don't bother."
Takao scoffs. "I'm just asking. No need to get worked up." He then props his elbow on the countertop and rests his cheek in the palm of his hand. "So do you?"
Midorima finishes the other half of the dumpling. "I do."
"What's the lucky item for today?"
On cue, Midorima reaches into his pockets and fishes out a key chain of a cartoon frog. "It's this." He places it down, and Takao immediately reaches for it. "Don't lose it."
"I won't." While he continues eating, he watches Takao dangle the key chain and examine it with entertained eyes. "It's cute." He hands it back. "What's Scorpio and Cancer's compatibility today?"
He doesn't remember hearing anything about their compatibility, but before he can saying "nothing," his mouth moves on its own accord. "Compatible." Perhaps he subconsciously remembers, after all.
Takao hums a stray note. Midorima's not sure if it is the sound of approval or skepticism, but he's willing to say both. Takao has never been one to believe in horoscopes — this, Midorima knows too well. But there have been times when fate proves its competence, and he strongly believes that it's fate that has brought him here.
"You haven't changed a lot," Takao says.
"Neither have you."
"You're still a stick in the mud."
Though he knows that's supposed to be taken offensively, Midorima can't help but smile to himself. "You're still annoying."
Takao tilts his head. "Do you really think so?"
"It's a fact." Sparing his company a pointed look, he lifts his glass of water and takes a sip.
"It's not a fact if it can't be proven."
"You're proving it right now."
Again, Takao huffs. "I'm only trying to make conversation, because Shin-chan —"
"Oi." The new voice diverts Midorima's attention. "Stop flirting." The man then glances at Midorima. "It's you."
"Is that how you greet your customers, Kagami?"
The owner of the café scoffs. "You're only here for Takao."
"Your dumplings are good," Midorima comments.
This, apparently, isn't what Kagami expected to hear. "What?"
"But it has a bit too much salt." That may or may not be a lie.
"Bas —"
"Kagami, they're watching," Takao hushes, eyes flickering over to the customers sitting a few spaces away.
"Right." Kagami shifts and averts his eyes for a second. "Th ... thanks, I guess." He nods once at Midorima before turning to Takao. "Get back to work."
"Yes, sir!" Enthusiastic as Takao appears, it's obvious that he doesn't want to move, but, as always, he does what he's told. As he slinks away, Midorima's focus reverts to the owner.
"You should give him your number," Kagami suggests, quirking an eyebrow at him. "He's been pestering me about calling Tatsuya and getting your number from him."
This, for some reason, doesn't really surprise Midorima, but it does excite him. If Takao's making such an effort to communicate with him, does that mean that he — ? It's possible. It's definitely possible, but he shouldn't get his hopes up too much. Least he knows, Takao might just want to rekindle their friendship and nothing more.
"I'll give it to him," he replies, finishing the last of the dumplings.
Seeing that he's done, Kagami picks up the empty plate. "Is it really that salty?"
"No, it's good."
"Are you just —" Kagami cuts himself off when Midorima peers up to meet his gaze. "Never mind. You're not the type to lie anyway. Do you want a refill?"
"I'm about to leave."
"I'll have Takao ring you up."
"All right."
While Kagami goes away, Midorima sits back and dwells on their conversation. Out of everyone he has met over the last five years (which isn't many, but still a few), Kagami has been the one who has changed the most in terms of maturity and occupation. With a talent in basketball like his, Midorima didn't expect him to start a café — where he got his cooking skills from is an even better question. But he isn't complaining; the food's good, and Kagami doesn't appear all that miserable.
"I'm back! Did you miss me?" Takao swoops in to pick up the empty cup.
"Don't bother," Midorima says, getting up from his seat. "I should be heading off."
Though the cheerful expression on Takao's face falters slightly, Midorima can still read the disappointment.
"Already?"
Midorima shuffles through his wallet to remove a few bills. "I have a class in an hour."
"Oh." There's a hesitant pause as Midorima hands the payment over. "Will you visit again?"
Of course, Midorima wants to say, but pride has a tight grip on his tongue. "I'll try. Can I see your notepad?"
Takao hands it to him. "I work Monday through Saturday from two to six."
"I know," Midorima says, scribbling down a few digits onto the pad before handing it back.
"Wait. How do you know?"
Realizing his mistake, Midorima quickly covers it with another topic. "Are you free Saturday?"
Fortunately, Takao takes the new subject bait. "After work, I should be."
"Do you ..." He clears his throat and tries his best to suppress the flush in his cheeks. "Would you like to ..." Why is this difficult? It's only Takao.
"Are you asking me out to dinner?" The grin is back.
"Shut up."
Takao laughs. "Still a tsundere, I see. But yeah, I'd like to. What place and time?"
His mind goes blank. Of all times he needs an answer, his brain decides to fail him now. Takao, luckily (or maybe unluckily depending on how he looks at it), picks up on this.
"I know a restaurant nearby that we can go to. Just come here around six, and we'll walk there. Sounds good?"
Sounds great.
"That's fine."
Again, Takao smiles, and again, Midorima's heart flutters.
"I'll see you then."
Midorima gives a jerky nod. "Yeah, until then." He eyes fall on the bills in the other's hand. "Keep the change." And with that, he turns and makes his way out of the café — quickly — so that he doesn't embarrass himself any further.
As he steps outside, he realizes that everything seems brighter. The sky is bluer; the grass is greener. People are smiling, and the atmosphere is wonderful.
Today's a good day.
¹ red bean soup (in a can)