Down to the Wire


"Come on! Someone let us out already! Come on!" Takao pounded on the door and pitched her voice to hopefully carry far to the other side.

"I don't think there's anyone left to hear you. I think we're trapped," said Kimura dejectedly.

"Thanks for nothing, you shitty freshmen! Kimura, get me some pineapples! I wanna smash them over their heads!" shouted Miyaji.

"This is her fault, not mine!" Midorima protested.

Takao let her shoulders slump, for once not looking smug or annoyingly cheerful.

"I'm sorry guys. I didn't know."

The situation was this: the four of them were trapped in the basketball club's storage closet, quite possibly for the night. They'd gotten into this situation when Takao, unaware that the closet locked from the inside as well as outside, and couldn't be opened without a key, leapt onto the cart of basketballs that Midorima had been pushing into the storage closet, causing him to lose control of it. Somehow one of the wheels hit the door stop, and Midorima, unaware that the door would lock when it closed behind them, didn't try to catch it and keep it open, even though Miyaji and Kimura, both already inside the closet, putting away cones and other equipment, shouted at him to. No, Midorima instead chose to yell at Takao. The door clicked shut behind them, trapping them all in the closet. And so far their shouts for help had gone unanswered.

"I'll make it up to you guys when we get out of here. I promise."

The sight of Takao looking so dejected quickly changed Miyaji's tune.

"Hey, no, it's not that big of a deal, Takao," he said, scratching at the back of his head.

"It's a supreme annoyance, and it is that big of a deal," argued Midorima.

"It's not like this is the first time this has happened. Or the second, or the tenth. This happens to people at least three times a year. The doorknob should have been changed by now, so that we can't get locked in here anymore," said Kimura.

"I'm still sorry. I'll treat you guys to a meal when we get out of here. Whatever you want," said Takao.

"Don't be stupid. No self respecting man would allow a girl to pay for his dinner," snapped Midorima.

"That's a stupid, sexist, old-fashioned belief, Shin-chan. Or maybe that's your roundabout way of saying you want to eat my home cooking," remarked Takao.

"That's not what I meant!"

"Midorima's really the worst," commented Kimura disapprovingly.

"Trying to coerce girls into cooking for him. For shame," said Miyaji, shaking his head.

"That is not what I am doing! I never said anything about her cooking! That was all Takao!"

Midorima continued spluttering as Kimura and Miyaji kept teasing him. Takao rattled the door again, vainly hoping that it might open this time, but to no avail.

"I don't suppose anyone here knows how to pick locks?" she asked.

"There's nothing to pick it with. Otherwise I'd have tried already," said Kimura.

"You can pick locks?" Takao asked.

"Not well," admitted Kimura.

"He's an amateur. He can't crack a safe or anything, but he got me into my apartment once when I was locked out," said Miyaji.

"Too bad you're not the kind of girl who wears hairpins," said Kimura regretfully.

"And too bad there are no coat hangers or wires of any kind in here," added Miyaji.

Takao's eternally mischief filled eyes went up a notch on the scale of deviousness.

"Wire, you say?"

"Yeah. A thick enough piece of wire might work, if we had any," said Kimura.

"Which we don't," sighed Miyaji.

"All three of you, turn around," ordered Takao.

They looked at her with varying degrees of confusion. Then Midorima asked the million dollar question.

"Why?"

"Kimura-senpai needs wire. I can get him some. But you have to turn around," insisted Takao.

Understanding crossed Miyaji's face first and he turned his back to his kouhai. Then, seeing the others hadn't gotten it yet, grabbed Midorima and forcibly turned him around, knowing Kimura would turn on his own.

"I take it this is a girl thing? Takao's getting us the wire by doing some kind of girl thing?" asked Kimura, as he did as Takao had ordered.

"That's one way of putting it," said Takao. There was a rustle of fabric.

"I don't understand. What are you doing? It had better not be anything indecent!" said Midorima.

"Just keep your back turned," said Takao crossly.

"You are doing something indecent! You do understand what would happen if someone were to open that door right now –"

"Yes, we'd get out of here without me ruining my bra."

"Your what?!"

"My bra!" shouted Takao.

"Takao, what the hell are you doing back there? What does your underwear have to do with anything?!" demanded Midorima.

"Clearly Midorima has never heard of under wires," muttered Miyaji, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Under what now?"

"Under wires! They're sewn into the bra to give it shape!" yelled Takao.

"Will you keep your voice down when you're shouting about obscene things?!" snapped Midorima.

"Why should I? It's not like there's anyone to hear them other than you guys. You just need one wire, Kimura-senpai?" Takao asked, changing the conversation very abruptly.

"Um. Yes. I should only need one," said Kimura.

"Almost got it. Hang on just a second."

The three Shuutoku boys stood with their backs to Takao, staring intently at the wall, and trying not to blush.

"Alright. I'm decent again. Here, Kimura-senpai."

Takao stepped in front of them and held out a long, piece of curved wire to Kimura. In her other hand, they noticed a balled up handful of lacy white fabric. It didn't take a genius to figure out what that was. Their eyes went automatically to Takao's chest, without any of the boys consciously thinking about it. Her gym shirt was loose, and made of thick cotton, so it wasn't too obvious, but –

"The wire, Kimura-senpai," said Takao, annoyance shading her voice as she thrust the piece of metal into Kimura's face. As soon as he took it, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave them A Look.

"Uh, thanks Takao," said Kimura, face flushed as he accepted the wire and went to start working on the lock.

"For the love of . . . why didn't you fully redress yourself?" demanded Midorima, pointedly turning away from Takao again.

"I did."

"I meant redress yourself wearing everything you had been wearing before you . . . you know what!"

"Maybe you just missed how I took out one of the supporting wires in my bra. If I tried to put it back on now, my boobs would be completely lopsided! You don't want my boobs to be lopsided, do you Shin-chan?" demanded Takao.

Midorima started spluttering.

Miyaji couldn't help it. He started laughing softly, but also averted his eyes from the topic of this conversation. Kimura concentrated on the lock, glad to have something to occupy his attention other than the thought of Takao's boobs. If it took him a little longer to spring the lock than it normally would have, at least Miyaji was the only one who knew. Finally, the door opened, and Kimura, cheeks still blushing, handed Takao back her wire.

"Thank you, Kimura-senpai."

"Thank you for, uh, you know. And sorry about you ruining your . . . uh . . ."

"My bra?" supplied Takao.

"Stop saying that word so shamelessly!" snapped Midorima.

"There's nothing wrong with the word 'bra!' All girls wear them you know! Ok, maybe not all girls, but most. Like at least ninety-eight percent of the ones at this school. And the ones who don't are the same ones who don't wear panties either, because they're complete sluts –"

"Takao! This is not appropriate!"

"I'm just calling it as I see it, Shin-chan."

"What's going on here?" asked Ootsubo, appearing from around the corner. Their captain took in all the blushing faces and quickly realized that he'd probably rather not know. But he'd already asked, and the question couldn't really be unasked.

"Not much. We got locked in the storage closet. Kimura picked the lock with one of my under wires and got us out. All the equipment's put away, so I'm going to change now, then I'm treating everyone to dinner, as an apology for locking them in. Do you want to come too, Captain? Shin-chan already promised he'd come," said Takao.

"I promised no such thing!"

"But you will come, won't you?" asked Takao, flitting to Midorima's side and tilting her head back to look up at him with big eyes.

"I already told you, so self respecting man would let a girl pay for his meal!"

"Not even if I give you this?" Takao had pressed her bra into the unsuspecting Midorima's hand before he realized what she was doing.

"Wah! You! Have you no shame?" Midorima tried to drop the bra, but the strap tangled around one of his fingers, so he ended up just dangling it from his hand.

"You don't want it?"

"Of course I don't want it! Why would I want it?!" shouted Midorima, balling it up again so it wasn't obvious what he was holding.

"In case it turns out to be a lucky item. You obviously don't already have one, since you didn't even know what under wires were," said Takao.

As Midorima spluttered, Ootsubo took the opportunity to decline the offer of dinner.

"I'm afraid I'll have to pass, Takao. But I hope you all have fun."

(For the record, Ootsubo did not flee. He merely left as quickly as he could do so and still retain his dignity.)

In the end, Midorima did come along, though he stubbornly insisted on paying for his own meal. And if Kimura or Mijayi noticed a scrap of lacy white fabric peaking out of Midorima's pocket, or the fact that Takao seemed a bit bouncier beneath her school uniform than usual during dinner, neither said anything. At least not to their kouhai.

"I want to change my bet to dating by the end of Winter Cup," Kimura said to Miyaji as they walked home that night after parting ways with the troublesome two.

"That soon? Kimura, you're grossly overestimating Midorima's ability to act intelligently. At this rate he'll be lucky if he realizes he's falling for her by the time they graduate," shot back Miyaji.

"He kept her bra, Miyaji."

"Only because it's very possible that Oha Asa might declare that it's a lucky item someday."

Kimura paused. Then sighed.

"Sadly, you're probably right."

(Takao usually wears a sports bra in practice, but by a lucky coincidence, she'd taken her gym clothes home the night before to wash, and forgot to bring her sports bra back.)

(Also by coincidence, the very next day, Cancer's lucky item was wire.)

(Reviews are appreciated!)