Warnings: Unbeta'd. OCCness. Fluff-hunting required.
Chapter 12: MidoKuro – Predestined – Part 1
Dr Midorima Shintarou adjusted his glasses as he read the patient file again; Kuroko Tetsuna; 31 January; Blood-type A.
There was no doubt. This Kuroko Tetsuna was his Kuroko Tetsuna. The one he hadn't seen since the implicit termination of their relationship a decade ago.
Midorima hastened his pace, rushing through the busy hallways of the emergency department as he studied the file further. Then, something he read stopped him dead; …patient fell down a flight of stairs… 7-months pregnant…
A figurative chasm opened up beneath Midorima's feet. He hadn't seen her since their last term of middle school. Still, deep, deep down – even if he would never admit to it – he had always held just the tiniest slither of hope that destiny would bring them back together at some point. Yet now, something had finally substantiated the reality of their unspoken break up. It was the first time he truly tasted the bitterness of losing her all those years ago.
Midorima and Kuroko had met in middle school. She had been a phantom of a person, with a presence so faint Midorima had even wondered if she had been a ghost, an illusion, or even just a figment of his imagination. Nevertheless, she had been a – very real – manager of the basketball club, a girl with a gaze so steady it looked deceptively condescending. But, no one understood condescension more than him, and he differentiated her deference from disdain almost immediately.
Their attraction to each other had been implied from the start; a thin, subdued, and very restrained implication. Yet, that muffled, ill-defined boundary between acquaintances, friends, and lovers had been slowly and quietly crossed, and by graduation, they had been together for 3 years.
'Well, not quite...' Midorima reminded himself to his own frustration.
"Dr Midorima? Dr Midorima?" Called a nurse, "Your patient's unconscious in bed #15. Please hurry, her water's broken but the ultrasound scans look abnormal."
Midorima hurried. As soon as he reached bed #15, his vision made a beeline for the ultrasound image.
"The umbilical cord's wrapped around the baby's neck. Where's Dr Takao?" Midorima forced himself to sound calm.
"He's on his way from the maternity ward."
"Page him. Tell him to get his ass over to the operating room immediately. He'll have to perform a Caesarean," said Midorima in a tone that held urgency beyond the professional norm. "Any longer and both mother and baby will be in danger."
"Yes, Dr Midorima."
"Any ideas on the father's ETA?"
"No, Dr Midorima. The patient was brought here from work by her colleagues. To their knowledge, Ms Kuroko's a single mother." The nurse turned, ready to leave, but found her arm locked in the doctor's iron grip.
"Are you sure?"
The hours sluggishly crept by. By the time Midorima finished his 12-hour shift at the emergency department, it was late in the evening. He made his way to the maternity ward. Frustration lined every step he took to get there. Should he feel glad that the father was essentially out of the picture? Or should he feel sorry for Kuroko? Midorima glowered. Now, just as it was back then, Kuroko Tetsuna was the one person who could incite such feelings of indecisiveness he generally abstained from.
When Midorima reached Kuroko's room, the first thing he saw was the neonatal intensive-care unit. Kuroko's baby, a tiny black-haired boy, had a ventilator to assist with his breathing difficulties. He was feeble, fragile, and weak. Yet, watching the little one do his best to take in each miniscule breath made even the reserved doctor feel proud. It was as if every rise of his tiny chest was a declaration of his survival to the world. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of man the newborn would grow up to be.
"Midorima-kun," spoke Kuroko.
"Kuroko." As usual, her presence had been nearly undetectable.
"I was surprised when Dr Takao told me about you. So, you really did become a doctor." Kuroko was deathly pale. "It's been a long time."
"A little over 10 years," Midorima replied, annoyed that Kuroko seemed so at ease. She had almost lost her baby today. She had almost lost her life today. Yet, to her, it might as well just be another Tuesday.
There was just the smallest hint of a smile on Kuroko's face, nothing which showed the absolute turmoil of emotions she was currently experiencing within. When their connection fell apart, she never thought that she would meet the man standing before her ever again. She wasn't quite sure of what to say. Kuroko and Midorima hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms.
Fate. Luck. Destiny. They were an exact science to Midorima. His ritualistic preparation for matches ranged from filing his nails, taping his fingers, and listening to his horoscope, to carrying his lucky item of the day like it was some sort of obsession. They had been things Kuroko neither understood nor sympathised with.
Yet, somehow the mismatched pair had gotten together. It had been highly confusing to both parties at first. Kuroko had been aware of how dull, gloomy, and frequently unnoticeable she was. It was beyond reason why she had attached herself to a confident, overbearing, and occasionally snobbish teenager. Then again, she had realised over time that acting kind was actually very difficult for Midorima. He wasn't an inherently mean person, just – emotionally constipated.
Nevertheless, towards the end of their middle school years, their attitudes towards basketball, and their ideologies in life had begun to divert. They had grown, and changed. Even the simple act of communicating became difficult. When Kuroko had admitted that she was having a hard time getting along with the then-current Midorima, he had simply dismissed the sentiment as a side effect of their supposedly incompatible blood types. A verbal altercation never occurred, but there had been no end to their civil disagreements. Ultimately, Midorima and Kuroko simply drifted apart. Although an official break up was never stated, both people took separation as the natural outcome to the ever-growing distance between them.
"Have you been well?" Kuroko asked.
Midorima's eyes narrowed. "I've been fine, how about you?" He paused momentarily before continuing, "I didn't see you at graduation. I didn't think you'd lower your presence to such lengths just to avoid me."
"No, I wouldn't have." Kuroko smiled, reminded of all the times she had accidentally startled Midorima by seemingly popping out of nowhere. "I didn't attend graduation because my parents and I had already migrated to the U.S. by then."
"You've been in the states all this time?" Midorima asked, clearly surprised by the revelation.
"Yes, until half a year ago that is."
"Is the baby's father American?"
"He was Japanese-American."
"Was?"
"2 months into our marriage, he and my parents passed away in a traffic accident. That's when I returned."
"That's why your name's still Kuroko." Midorima was conflicted. How should one normally act when told about an old friend's tragedy? Say sorry and give them a pat on the shoulder? A hug perhaps? His hand almost acted on its own volition, but he quickly restrained himself.
"Yes," Kuroko nodded. "We didn't have time to register our marriage in Japan, so my name hasn't changed." Kuroko could feel the inklings of tears gradually intrude upon her. It had been such a hard, tiring, day. Now, remembering that the little baby snoozing away in the far side of the room was the only kin she had left almost brought her to her breaking point.
Midorima saw Kuroko's lip tremble ever so slightly. She immediately turned away from him and wept in soft little sobs.
"Kuroko."
"I can't believe I almost lost my baby. He's the only one I have left, and I almost lost him." Kuroko had her back facing Midorima, unwilling to let him see her earnestly cry. Suddenly, she felt Midorima's arms encircle her. He embraced her gingerly, afraid to disturb her post-surgical wound. It was an awkward hug. But, knowing just how much of a stretch any sort of gentleness was for Midorima, the stiff cuddle merely made Kuroko appreciate it even more.
"I'm, sorry…" Midorima made a face. To him, those two words were not commonly used in such succession.
Kuroko simply smiled in reply.
"What are you going to do from now on? You don't have any relatives. You can't take care of a baby alone in your state."
"I'll be fine by the time I'm discharged."
"I'll determine whether or not you're fine." Midorima cocked an eyebrow, reminding her that he was the health professional of the two. "My apartment's not far from here. It's not particularly large, but it's more than enough for two adults and a baby." Before Kuroko could open her mouth to decline, he continued. "Don't get the wrong idea, this isn't about us. This is about you and that premature baby of yours whose going to need you twenty-four seven. Don't for one second deceive yourself into thinking that you can handle this by yourself."
Kuroko sighed. "I'm more inclined to be offended that you'd think I'd think so highly of myself. I know that nothing could ever happen between us again. Everything's over. I'd never delude myself into thinking otherwise."
Midorima's eye twitched. "The fact that you're so certain about it kind of pisses me off for some reason."
"Regardless, I can't accept your offer."
"Why?"
"I don't want… I can't let Tatsuya get attached to you. I'll raise him to know his father, to know how great of a person he was, so I can't let him grow attached to you."
"Tatsuya… Is that his name?" Midorima looked to the sleeping baby.
"Yes, he's named after his father."
"Kuroko, if you think my presence in his life will tarnish the memory of your late husband, then there's no reason not to take my offer. All I'll be there for is to provide you support when you need it. I'll run to the store when you run out of diapers, I'll cook when you're too tired to even move, I'll prepare the formula when you're busy soothing the baby, I'll even record his first crawl, step, his first words if you want me to. But, I won't have much contact with him. Do I seem like the baby bonding type to you?"
To Kuroko, hearing Midorima lay everything out so clearly almost made the whole arrangement seem – lonely.
"I'll prepare the place. It'll be ready by the time you're discharged," said Midorima.
"Wait, I haven't agre-"
"Kuroko." Midorima glared. "Just shut up and let me do this."
Confident, overbearing, and occasionally snobbish; that was Midorima Shintarou. Dull, gloomy, and frequently unnoticeable; that was Kuroko Tetsuna. Where will destiny take them?
Like it or hate it, comment and let me know.
Writing this was tough. Oh my god was this difficult to write. Someone throw me a damn cookie -_-
