POV Takao

That woman came to our next game.

"Has anyone seen my son? Takao Kazunari or his boyfriend, Midorima Shintarō?" she asked, her voice loud and strident. Apparently she planned on outing me to the team; it was another attempt to embarrass me, but my teammates, along with anyone else important already knew. And it's not like she couldn't find me in the crowd, I was wearing a bright orange uniform with the number ten prominently displayed on the back. She was doing this just to be spiteful. I ignored her.

"Captain was just here," the first year player, Akira, told her. "I'll go find him for you." She frowned.

Shin-chan was on the bench, reviewing his superstitious pre-game checklist and thankfully, he hadn't noticed her spectacle. She was tarted up; the straps on her blouse too thin, her skirt cut too high (wait, was that Yukina's skirt?), her heels too pointed. Her makeup was overdone as well with bright pink cheeks. I could smell the cigarette smoke from where I stood.

"Kazu-kun," she called out and wobbled to the edge of the court, she was the essence of every horrible ethnic Korean stereotype. Behind her I saw Keiko and Kaori settling into first row seats. I made a note to steer her as far away from them as possible.

"Sorry Mom, Coach needs to review the game plan with me. How about you grab a seat and we'll talk in a few minutes?"

"Ok," she said and I lost sight of her as I looked over the notes with Coach.

"Well, aren't you just exactly like he described you?" she said and I turned in horror to see her standing next to Shin-chan. He'd risen to greet her.

"Takao is not prone to exaggeration," he responded. I'd obviously missed the opening volleys of the conversation. Sparks were flying.

"No? Well that certainly true in your case. You certainly don't seem to be living by the proverb that 'the stake that sticks out gets hammered down.' You are freakishly tall, how does he even kiss you?" I'd told her, in a moment of weakness that Shin-chan was sensitive about his height and now she was punishing me through him.

"I am the tallest player on the team, but not the tallest in high school basketball throughout the country. We manage just fine, thank you for your concern."

"Is that so? Good for you. Well I hope you have a great match," she said. "I'll be rooting for you." She tottered off and I hoped that would be the end of her performance.

"Which of you is my son's boyfriend's parents?" I heard her yell into the crowd. Keiko, elegant as usual, was wearing a kimono in Shūtoku orange. She stood and felt like I was going to vomit. The two women spoke for what seemed like an eternity and then my mother turned and left the gym.

"Come, the game is about to begin," Shin-chan said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I want to know what she said to your mom."

"Get your head in the game, Captain. Our private lives have no bearing on the court."

"You're right of course, thank you."

POV Midorima

Takao's performance at the game suffers with the added distraction of his mother and her…colorful behavior. Whatever Mom said to her, she does not return, but even the lack of her is disconcerting to Takao. The first year's don't know how to react to their captain's distracted state and coach removes him from the game about halfway through the third quarter. We are far enough up in the points, thanks to my three-pointers, that it matters little if he's leading the team on the court or if I am. We win, of course, because it is a good day for Cancer, I have my luck item, and I have prepared my best. Takao is depressed, whether it is his mother or his reaction to her that is disturbing him, I don't know. Kaori and Mom are waiting for us after the game and when he sees them he groans, but forces a smile on his face. It is the smile I hate, the one that does not reach his eyes.

"Nisan, you were awesome tonight" Kaori grins at me, she is so shy that her voice is barely audible. "Look, look, the two of you are on the cover of Basketball Monthly."

I take the magazine from her and sure enough I am featured prominently on the cover. Takao is standing to the side and behind me, in my shadow. The headline above us says "Shutoku's Light and Shadow." It is part of the series of articles about the Generation of Miracles and how each of us has a new player who supports us. Last month Murasakibara and Himuro were the featured duo. I flip to the two-page spread. Most of the space is filled with glossy action photos of my shooting. There is only one clear photo of Takao and it is of the back of his head.

"Oh, so cool!" Takao crowds me and finally I push him in front of me so that we can look at the magazine together. "I love that picture!" He points to one where I am covered in sweat, but I have a ghost of a smile on my lips. This picture will not doubt me torn from another copy of this magazine and taped inside his shoe locker. I skim the text and words like "number one shooter," "three-pointer," and "prodigy" are used often to describe me. They spell Takao's name correctly. In regards to me, Takao is quoted as saying, "I played against him in high school and we were completely crushed; he was a god of basketball. When we started playing together, I realized that I couldn't just think of him as prodigy. Midorima works harder and longer than anyone to perfect his skills. He is 100% the real deal." It is a wonderful statement and I know that if I wasn't already so overheated from the game, I'd be blushing.

"Aww," Takao pouts, "they cut out all the really cool things I said about you."

"I am gratified that you spoke about my work ethic," I tell him. I continue down the page, looking for the words I used to describe Takao, yet none appear. I had spent a good fifteen minutes on the phone with the reporter and I am annoyed.

"Why are you frowning?" Kaori asks. Her eyes are much older than her ages belies.

"I don't see my quote about Takao."

"Did you say nice things about me?" Takao asks.

"Look under the photo of him, there's a quote there," Kaori suggests. Under the photograph there is a quote, a single line that does no justice to Takao's basketball. It says: "Takao is the only player I trust to be my partner."

"Aww, Shin-chan, that's perfect!" he is excited, practically bouncing in front of me.

Kaori grabs the magazine and holds out a black marker to Takao.

"I want you to sign it," she says. "But don't cover up your face."

"If you intend to steal my magazine, you'll have to buy me another copy," I tell her. They both ignore me. He takes the marker and scribbles, "Persistent and Tireless – Takao." He tries to hand it to me to sign next, but Kaori snatches it away from him.

"I live with him," she smirks and I want to rub that look off her face. "He's not special like you are."

I decide that even if her intentions are right, to compliment him above me, her way of doing so is rude. I take the magazine from her as she pouts and hand it over to Mom. Once it is safely out of harms way, I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder. From there it is easy to attack her ribs with a series of well-place tickles. She is heaving and kicking, but I don't relent and Mom covers her mouth to hide her amusement.

"Free shot?" I offer Takao and turn so that the other side of her is exposed to him.

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I'm not risking losing my special status." His smile is genuine for the first time that night and I am pleased it is my fault.