Lured
By: Stupiak Kitty


Yuuchan – this is it. :D

Thank you for the reviews, favs and follows!

This chapter was inspired with OLDCODEX's song, Tag on the Strain. I do not own anything, except for the story and my account, of course.

O.C. warnings.

I'm laughing. Pork cutlet was the result of lazy writing.


He sometimes wished that he would just wake up and all of the time he had spent without Takao was just a terrifying dream.


Chapter's Theme Song: Tag on the Strain - OLDCODEX

XxX

Midorima was not sure how would he call his current emotion at the moment. He was pissed that he wanted to laugh. He was still in the state of disbelief. Everything ludicrous was happening to him.

The fault was the missing lucky item.

It was absurd enough that he almost gave in to the urge of butting his head on a nearby wall repeatedly until he was convinced that this unlucky fate was nothing but a rotten nightmare.

It all happened when he went to the arcade hall after the Seirin incident, hoping to see his lucky item there - it was one of the places he remembered going whenever he's in dire need of his lucky item.

What he'd found instead was trouble.

A random woman had asked him to pretend that they were together just to chase off her latest ex. He tried ignoring the woman, but she was too persuasive and a hoodlum-like man was really causing the woman fear.

He had no choice but to comply.

Luckily, there were no familiar faces on that particular place at that time.

Though instead of continuing to his task of finding his lucky item and be home, he was forced to spend his time with the random woman. They went to several places; movie house, shopping mall, bowling grounds – anything that the woman requests. He had to pay with all of the expenses however.

It was when he realized that he had been set-up.

One moment they were eating in a certain restaurant. The next, he found himself resting inside a foreign room. He awoke lightheaded and in a dizzy state.

When he looked around, he noticed that he was not wearing anything except for his pants. There was blood on the sheets, and the random woman by earlier was desperately clinging on the telephone hanged on the corner.

Her face was filled with tears, her look unfitting. She refused to look him in the eyes.

He had no chance of sorting out his confusion the moment they were raided by police force.

He was still in state of lethal shock and bewilderment as the random woman narrated her own version of what has transpired; he, Midorima Shintarou, a known surgeon in England, had forced this random woman to spend the night with her.

The supposed-ex was surprisingly present inside the police booth, supporting the story of the woman.

He became the ex instead. He, who came back to his own country to find his lucky item,became the villain of these unknown barbarians.

He just sat there, his astonishment made him silent.

The police was convinced to put him in jail, and he had almost burst into laughter for that. However, the two boors had something else in mind. The woman was asking for compensation in exchange of withdrawing his assumed sentence, which he simply agreed.

He should call a reliable lawyer for this.

They're slandering his name, accusing him of something he wouldn't even dreamt of doing.

They ruined his plan of returning to England as early as possible. He let them get away. He simply let them point their fingers to him and left with half of his money on their pockets.

He blamed his headache for his stupidity.

Now he found himself wandering around the busy street of Tokyo night.

Different establishments ranging from clubs to restaurants were full of life. Blinding colors of neon lights pierced his tired eyes. People shot him various looks of curiosity and intrigue as he passed by, but he was certain the luggage strolling behind him was the reason why.

Perhaps that was the cause of his sudden predicament earlier this day. They've spotted him as a target – a native coming home from a foreign land.

He pushed his glasses up and halted.

Finding for a hotel to spend the night is a right choice at the moment. That was not his original plan, but he knew that he needed to do this. He had to let this day pass or he might found himself spending his time inside an asylum.

He was tired for this ridiculous game of fate.

First, he needed to fill his empty stomach.

xXx

Midorima booked a single suite inside the hotel he had first come across. The inside of the room was fine, cozy, not much the same with his room in England, but it was fine.

Nothing he can't endure.

He had worse.

He situated his luggage on the side of the bed, snatched his pair of clean clothes and a towel and went to bathe himself.

He needed that lush pampering tonight

He went outside to eat after awhile. He wore a cream colored-jacket with green undershirt. He tugged at his scarf before pushing his glasses up.

Different restaurants were scattered around the hotel.

He would lie to himself if he didn't admit that he had missed the distinct taste of authentic Japanese delicacies. Since it has been a long time since he had visited his hometown, he might as well enjoy the nightlife. This will be the last time he'll be coming back after all.

He would deal with his flight tomorrow morning.

His plan for tonight is to fill his empty stomach, go back to the hotel, sleep and be ready for tomorrow. His life is in danger without his lucky item.

He hoped that nothing terrible would happen right away.

Everything went fine, apparently. He didn't see anyone coddling at the middle of hotel's hallway. No random woman came up and asked him to pose as her boyfriend.

There was one thing that he found extremely hard, however. He walked, observing every corner of the street as he went by. The place was cramped with various kind of restaurant; he's having a hard time picking one.

He continued cruising along the busy street, until a certain eatery had caught his attention.

Sakura Bistro.

The enormous sign situated above the entrance said. There was a medium signboard placed on the corner as well. Pink and white balloons surrounded the establishment. Different flower arrangements were organized at the side.

The restaurant was probably new, he noted. One of their employers was giving out what supposed to be pamphlets and a suspiciously looking thing that looked more like a keychain.

He stilled and squinted.

There was one thing that came into mind.

Lucky item.

Perhaps there's still hope with his miserable fate tonight.

The cheery voice of the man filled his ears as he approached the building. His eyebrow arched a little when the man gaped at him. Fear and disbelief were visible on his face.

Maybe he was just intimidated by his height, he thought. Midorima was already accustomed of that idea so he let it go and offered his hands.

The man only gawked at him, altering his gaze toward his hands and face.

"The keychain," He said, gesturing the item.

"O-oh," The man handed it to him and scratched his head.

He never wasted time and observed the item.

He squinted at it, bringing it closer to his face. It was rectangular. There was a small Sakura blossom in between a crystal-like box, making it look like it's trapped inside. He turned it around. The restaurant's name was engraved on the backside.

Perhaps this is what he was looking for the entire time.

He glanced at the store's employee on cue.

He caught the man staring and squirmed. He observed him instead. The man before was quite familiar. He thought he'd seen him somewhere but he couldn't put the idea together.

The thought was forgotten as he pushed the entrance door of the Sakura Bistro. The man opened it wider for him, a little hesitant.

He blinked as the cooler air greeted his face.

The place was rather large for a pub, and the place is crowded, if not entirely. He approached a lone table on the right; it was an ideal area for him since it was isolated from the smoking crowd.

He noticed a small stage from the far left of the area as he walked.

Different instruments were already set up, but the musicians were yet to be seen. Perhaps later, he thought. They settled on putting a smooth jazz melody for the time being.

He pushed his glasses up with his right as he perched himself comfortably on the chair. He didn't have to wait long for someone to approach him.

However…

"K-kuroko," His voice came out as strained and somewhat shock. His eyebrows twitched in displeasure, clutching the Sakura holder in his hands.

Obviously, it was not what he's looking for. He had this urge to throw it away and leave the place as soon as possible.

He was not expecting to meet Kuroko in a place like this. What's with him and Sakura, anyway?

He never dreamt of seeing the man twice at the same day.

"M-Midorima-kun," Kuroko said after recovering from being caught off guard. "I…domo. Fancy meeting you again."

"Hmph. Fate has a funny sense of humor," He almost rolled his eyes. "I didn't know you are the pub-type. What are you even doing here?"

"I'm welcoming you."

The words were spoken a little fast, he didn't catch it.

"Come again?"

Kuroko looked at him in the eyes, his usual blank gaze irritating him. "I'm here to welcome you to Sakura Bistro," Then he gave him a black-colored book to prove his point. "Here's the menu."

What?

"I'm leaving," He stood up and prepared to leave, but stilled and took his seat again. He didn't want to widen the possibility of experiencing ridiculous events yet again.

He came here to eat. He might as well do that. Never mind the fact that Kuroko is here, working on a pub.

He snatched the set menu on the table and browse, his brows knitting together.

"Improbable," He muttered as he scan for the available food. "This is too unreal."

"Are you saying something, Midorima-kun?"

He stole a glance at Kuroko before glaring at the menu again. "I can't believe you actually choose to part-time in such places like this. Do you not find it a bit of a conflict with your current job? You work as a teacher, for heaven's sake."

He was not worried for Kuroko. He was still in state of shock that he saw Kuroko in strange places like this.

It was not like him.

"Ah. You're getting the wrong idea, Midorima-kun," said Kuroko. Midorima frowned at him. "I'm not here for part-time job. I'm the owner of this place. Well… with Kagami-kun and…" He cleared his throat, changing the subject suddenly. "Sakura Bistro's grand opening was held yesterday. We're still searching for potential employees so I'm helping for the mean time."

Midorima froze, couldn't believe what he had just heard.

Really?

Is this for real?

You would stumble upon unexpected events – places, people, even a situation you never thought of witnessing or happening.

The words on his prediction came running inside his mind on cue.

Oha Asa was never wrong indeed.

It never failed to surprise him.

"This is too unreal," Midorima massaged the bridge of his nose, suddenly exhausted. "Coming back here is a terrible idea."

Kuroko simply looked at him, wary.

He picked the set menu again and scanned for potential dinner. He must accept what fate has bestowed upon him. Scowling, he glanced up to where Kuroko is. "What's the best seller here?"

"We don't have any best selling meal yet since this is merely our second day of business, but I can recommend you this one," Said Kuroko, pointing a certain meal on the menu. "But if you are allergic to sea foods, then I suppose you can try our pork cutlet. Most of our customers are ordering that particular meal."

He just nodded, telling him to write it down which he easily complied.

He noticed how Kuroko's monotone voice complemented his work. He sounded like he has been doing this his entire life.

There was no way he would voice it out, though.

"Anything else?" Kuroko asked, pen on his hand.

"Do you have any red bean soup available here?"

"Mngh…" Kuroko blinked, a sudden thought came inside his mind.

"Oi, Takao, why do we have red bean soup for concoctions?" Kagami asked.

They were now arranging the bistro for tomorrow's grand opening.

Kagami was assigned for setting up the bar counter, while Kuroko and Takao were helping the Senpais for the table arrangement and decorations.

"Huh? What?" Takao looked at the object Kagami was holding. He scratched his head after awhile. "Eh? My bad, my bad. That was supposed to be mine. I must have misplaced it."

"Really? You're drinking this weird stuff?"

"Of course not! I'm not sacrificing my taste buds for that."

Kagami shot him a confused look. "Then why do you have this in the first place?"

"Sort of a memento," Takao smiled a lopsided smile.

"Huh? You're weird, man."

Kuroko looked at Midorima, amazed.

He was now fully convinced how important Midorima is to his friend.

"We have," he spoke after awhile. "but I'm afraid it's not for sale."

Midorima frowned. "What's the point of having red bean soup if you are not going to sell it?"

"Because it's someone's important keepsake," Kuroko replied, ignoring his frown of confusion. "Is that all?"

He sighed. "One order of wine, then,"

Kuroko wrote it up. "Anything else you want?"

"That's all." He answered.

"Okay then. Please wait for awhile," Kuroko bowed before proceeding to the door on the far right.

Before he could turn his gaze away however, his eyes automatically went on the left side, the part where it was crowded.

But his gaze lingered on the bar counter.

Even with dim light, he could still recognize the flaming red hair and the intense gaze of the man glaring at him.

Kagami.

He returned the glare with equal intensity, and then his eyes moved to the farthest corner to the left where the small stage was situated.

The band performing for tonight was starting to set up.

He observed them as he wait for his supposed meal.

They were laughing and talking as they test their instruments one after the other. They were but a moving blur with Midorima's eyesight, but he froze as he recognized something familiar.

Someone.

He scowled, turning his gaze away before shoving his glasses up.

It's not him. He thought. It was just my eyes mocking me again.

Within those years of living his life outside Japan, there was a time where all he could see was Takao.

His mind taunted him of Takao.

Whenever he saw a man with short and black locks, he thought it was him. Whenever he heard a cheerful laugh, he would turn around, expecting to see him grinning and waving at him.

He knew it was impossible.

There was no way Takao would take chances and follow him to England. Some part of his heart, however, was aware that he had longed for it to happen.

He sometimes wished that he would just wake up and all of the time he had spent without Takao was just a terrifying dream.

This disturbing sick habit of seeing him whenever, wherever he was, has been plaguing his mind within all those years he had stayed in England.

He perfectly knew, all right…

Takao's haunting him again.

He must get used to this by now.

There's no point of ignoring the deep ache he felt within his chest, though.

Going back to Japan only brought him nostalgia and distress.

xXx

"Kazu, do you want to come over at my place after this?"

Takao looked up from the amplifier he was working on and gave Akihiro - their drummer - an amused cock of brow. The side of his mouth quirked and gave him a nod of affirmation.

He already knew what he was up to the moment he was the subtle twinkle of his eyes.

Akihiro was the only person in the band who perfectly knew about his gender preference. Or he thought it was. It's either the other guys were aware or they just don't care, it was all beyond him.

He never intended to keep it as a secret, after all.

It wasn't as if they would take their current relationship to the next level. It was far than that. There was no actual relationship going on between.

Both of them were just linked physically - no strings attached, as what they called.

They would sometimes call each other, go out for late lunch, spending time around the park or seeing a movie, and then their usual camaraderie would always lead to a little tumble on the bed.

Their set-up doesn't affect their friendship and the band.

It was never an issue for him, even for Akihiro since they perfectly know how their current relationship works.

They were open with each other.

Both of them were just tools to burst the desire off their bodies.

Akihiro had the perfect timing, he must admit. What else should he spend his night off but exhausting himself with a one night roll in hay.

It was more charming than spending the night at home, alone and lonely, and dwelling on Shin-chan's sudden visit.

The only man his heart wanted.

Now that he thought about it, maybe he was not in love with Shin-chan anymore. Perhaps it was just his body talking - the need to touch him after all these years of longing for that one body.

His heart was just shitting him. He knew it.

Though he wouldn't feel like shit if that was true. He wouldn't have exploded in front of Kagami and Kuroko earlier.

Argh.

All these confusing things were making his head throb.

He groaned, caressing the side of his head. He must have drunk more than his usual intake of liquor earlier. His mind was now having a hard time functioning as well. His thoughts were flowing everywhere.

"Oi, you alright?" He heard Mairo says. He saw him mending his guitar on tune as he glimpsed at him. "Do you want to rest for awhile? I can sub for you. You look like shit, and gonna pass out any moment."

You look like shit.

Yeah, that's the exact word to explain myself now. He thought.

Despite that, Takao chuckled, ignoring the hammering twinge inside his head. He stood up, almost wobbly, before hooking an arm around Mairo. "It's cool, man, just a little tipsy. The world is somewhat spinny but I can still perform. Heck, I can sing even with a hangover. Who do you take me for, huh?"

"Spinny? Was that even a word?" Akihiro interjected.

They shook their head when Takao merely chuckled, holding him as he almost stumble.

"Why are you even drinking before the performance anyway?" Mairo probed, his eyebrows knitted in mild annoyance and concern. "What? Was that your new style of singing?"

"Leave him be, Mairo. Takao's just heartbroken," Akihiro teased.

"More like heart-shattered," He chuckled again.

Though he cannot deny that it was true.

Mairo cocked an interested brow. "Seriously, Takao?"

He nodded, but soon regretted it as the throbbing became more immense. So he said, "Aki-kun said he doesn't love me anymore," He pretended to wipe his tears and sob. "My heart has been shattered since."

"I've already told you I liked Simchi more," Akihiro answered, nudging his head toward the bass player.

"What? Don't make me murder you, Akihiro," The guy called Simchi said with a broken Japanese. His mouth turned with a scowl. "And don't mention that strange name again. I've been born as Simeon Connor so just call me with my given name. Understood?"

Takao laughed again, playfully elbowing their American band-mate. "Don't be a spoilsport. Simchi is a cute name, reminds of Kimchi. Makes me hungry out of the sudden."

The guy simply frowned at him before pushing his glasses up and looked away. He smiled with that familiar act.

Simchi reminded him of his Shin-chan.

The glasses, his attitude. They were almost alike. Just ignore his dirty blonde locks and the pinkish skin.

His heart ached with that.

"Are you all done talking or we're just going to spend the night with your nonsense babbling?" Simchan called after awhile. His bass guitar was already positioned on his body.

Akihiro was already sitting behind his drum set; even Mairo was looking at him as though he was just waiting for a cue.

The only one remaining was him.

"Alright, alright. Let's get this started," He said as he grabbed the microphone. He tested it for a while, tapping it twice to check it out before greeting the crowd before them.

The crowd cheered with that. He offered a welcoming speech for starters as the guys at the back started thrumming out a mild rhythm.

Entertaining them before they would offer their song to everyone was now a normal act for him. It was not hard, really.

He was an innate chatter, so talking and jesting with the crowd was like breathing for him.

Takao was already familiar with this since him and the band, as far as he could recall, has been together for almost six years now. He could say that his life has been a massive mess ever since Shin-chan disappeared.

For years, his entire life revolved around one-night stand, smoke, and alcohol. He even allowed himself to enter a serious relationship, then abandoning it when he doesn't feel it anymore.

He became fond of alcohol.

He remembered trying different sort of liquor available, matching it out with nonstop blowing of tobacco stick.

There even came a time where alcohol and smoke were the only substances his body could receive. It still surprised him, even now, how he had survived that.

He had met the guys when he entered collage. He studied bartending because that was the only course he had taken interest. He never thought that he might be able to find amazing people because of that.

Akihiro was the first one who initiated about forming a group. He insisted, telling that he had the perfect voice for a rock band.

That thought never occurred to him at first.

True, he liked singing. He was fond of music, but forming a band was like an impossible notion for him.

Since he was as reckless and carefree at that time, he agreed. Just for the heck of it.

And like what they always say, the rest was history.

Music is Takao's best friend.

Whenever he was down, he would sing. Whenever he missed him, we would sing. Singing was like his way of pouring out the feelings he couldn't even express in depth fashion.

Music has been his savior for years.

He was grateful for that.

He gestured for the guys to get ready after saying his ending line he usually say before they perform.

He inhaled deeply the moment he heard Mairo's guitar.

The air smelt of tobacco and enjoyment — the smell he was accustomed to. As the beat of Akihiro's stick came, he gripped the mic's body and count along with the beat of his heart.

He was now lost with the rhythmical pulse of guitar and drums and bass - the perfect harmony flowing through his ears.

3…

2…

1…

He sang.

He sang his heart out as he always does.

He couldn't help but smile as he felt the familiar feeling of adrenaline flowing through his veins. It was always like this whenever he was singing along with his band.

He felt like he was floating, flying, especially when he could hear the crowd cheering for them. His skin was prickling with excitement.

It was the best feeling.

However…

His thoughts revolved around Shin-chan as the lyrics of their song danced away from his mouth.

The times when they were still together. The feeling of playing basketball with him.

His memory traced Shin-chan's feminine face. Memorizing his warmth, his scent, his voice, his rare smile. It was all etched inside his mind.

Truth be told, it was Shin-chan who inspired him to do this song.

He found it rather easy whenever he was writing the song's lyrics with Shin-chan as inspiration. The words simply flow inside his mind.

Painful thoughts about him came rushing within him, making him tremble with anticipation.

As soon as the beat of the refrain came, he poured his emotions out, singing along with Mairo.

"Go! Where you want to go!"

He closed his eyes, clinging to the microphone for support as he let the music flow for a while. His chest is aching again.

He opened his eyes as he heard his cue to sing, but the words never came out.

The only thing his eyes could see was that particular person staring back at him. He froze — eyes widen, and mouth agape. If not with Mairo's hard nudge on the foot, he wouldn't have noticed that he had stop singing, or even the crowd as they murmur small words of bemusement.

He continued, still looking at the man who is staring at him in the eyes as well. Multicolored dancing lights penetrated his eyes, but he could clearly see his face.

The visible startled look of the man was his only proof that it was, in fact, him.

After all those years of dreaming of seeing him again, the day has finally come.

He saw Shin-chan.

He was here.

Those long years made him more attractive. He was not just attractive; he was more handsome as he had remembered seeing him.

Takao had to inhale deeply just to be sure that his heart and lungs were still working. He's having a hard time breathing. His throat aches with the effort to hold his tears.

He never noticed Shin-chan at the bar counter earlier. Was it only a figment of his wild imagination? If it was, then he should've disappeared by now.

Shin-chan was still there.

He searched for Kagami's eyes instead, questioning him in silence. When Kagami looked away, he already knew the answer.

It was not a guilty gesture. It was an I-had-no-choice look.

He knew how Kagami hated him.

As the last note of their song came, he turned to Mairo. He leaned to whisper something.

"Are you sure?" Mairo asked.

"Yeah. This is your stage now," He grinned, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. He saw the confused look of Akihiro before leaving the stage.

He needed to do what his mind is telling him to do now.

This is the chance he has been waiting for his entire life.

There's no point of running away, is there?

xXx

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