••••••••••••
Chapter Seven
It started out with a kiss
••••••••••••
In complete contrast to their easy attitude yesterday, Yosen's double aces are merciless in the quarter finals. The packed stadium doesn't even know who it's cheering for, the afternoon heat dissipated by the energetic chanting from seas of orange and pink. Shutoku has called for a time-out.
Coach Nakatani barks his final orders, spewing spit that's lost in the sweat running down his players' tired physiques. Jenrya adjusts their offensive strategy. They've only got ten seconds to pull through. They're ten seconds away from losing or gaining a chance at the title match.
Takao wipes the face towel over his eyes, he's exhausted but there's no way he's going to sub out in this crucial moment. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up so late last night but now isn't the time for regrets. Now is the time to pour his very soul into securing their win. Midorima is breathing hard beside him, hair matted with how profusely he's sweating. There's something feral in the way he's been playing, purpose-driven to the point that he damn near makes a replay of their final training camp match last summer. Coach Nakatani had anticipated it somehow and thwarted the setback early on. There's a different tint in his eyes when they get insanely focused like that and only the hoop has been on the receiving end of that look more than Takao. It's not the Zone – Takao has yet to see Midorima in it – but it's something very close.
The buzzer sounds and the huddles disperse. From the Yosen bench, sparks of purple energy rise with Murasakibara who takes his position under the net.
Himuro is pitted against Midorima but for a split second he glances at Takao who's about to receive the ball from the referee. Silver meets coal and Takao swallows down a curse. Damn Himuro for messing up his mind.
With a whistle, the game is back in play. Takao maneuvers around two towering blockers – where does Yosen keep getting these titans? He passes to Jenrya and keeps moving. There's no time to second guess. He penetrates the inside of the defense, hearing the continuous thump of the ball as Jenrya shouts something at Hisagi. Everything's according to plan so far.
Rubber soles skid on the floor as he stops, blocked by Yosen's formidable center. Isn't Marufuji supposed to be guarding this guy? His throat dries at the sheer power emanating from his opponent. Himuro wasn't kidding about Murasakibara's priorities. Somehow he manages to grin at the giant, cheeky even in the face of death. Whatever. His Hawk Eye alerts him of Hisagi's pass and he turns, so sure of his ability to deliver the ball into his ace's hands. The ball barely grazes his fingers when Murasakibara swats it away.
Himuro smiles at Midorima, hearing Takao's startled yelp. "Sorry for your loss." Slinking away, he catches the ball and releases it as the timer drops to zero.
Takao couldn't bear to look but he can hear the swish of the net as Yosen's final score tops theirs by two measly points. Over the clamor of cheers and the resounding buzzer, Takao finds himself attuned to a not-so-languid voice coming from just above him.
"What did I tell you about breaking hearts, puny point guard?" Murasakibara tilts his head, shadows covering his eyes as he pins Takao with a deadly stare.
Adrenalin sets fire to the anger that's welled up inside him, burning hot under his skin and pushing him into action. Takao grits his teeth, defiantly staring up at Yosen's ace. "What's that supposed to mean?"
A cruel smile curls at the corner of Murasakibara's lips. "Aka-chin sends his regards."
Takao stands frozen and would've stayed as such if not for Jenrya who takes him by the arm and pulls him towards the half-court line where everyone else is waiting. With all ten players facing each other, Takao tries his hardest not to cry, not to scream out and demand an explanation.
Rising from his bow after the referee has declared Yosen's win, Midorima finds Murasakibara staring at him. The energy that he'd been radiating in the final quarter has worn out but the clarity in them is shining still. Midorima nods, earning a lazy smile in response – one that he remembers to mean Murasakibara is proud of himself for doing something praise-worthy.
••••••••••••
There's a one hour interval before the next match but they're not staying to watch. The locker room is silent save for the half-hearted motions of the players changing out of sweat-soaked jerseys and into more comfortable clothes. When most everyone is dressed, Jenrya and the other third years line up to deliver their farewell speech.
"Takao." Jenrya moves forward to put his hand on their point guard's shoulder. "I wish you the best of luck in leading the team next year. I can only bring us so far but maybe you can take them higher; seat the King of the East on its rightful throne."
"What – Me?" Takao sputters; even with the Hawk Eye he didn't see this coming. "Me? After I fumbled that last pass?" They can't be serious. He's not fit to lead, emotionally (and maybe psychologically) speaking.
The retiring captain merely nods. "You know this team by heart," he says, which Takao takes to mean that he knows their ace better than anyone else.
It's absurd because as far as Takao knows he's been slowly and surely and stupidly severing that most valuable connection. Proof of it is how Midorima is sitting on the opposite end of the bench right now.
"Can I think about it? Being Captain is a lot of responsibility and I don't think… I'm not…" Takao manages to say as much before he trails off, turning to their coach who approves his request with a nod.
As the group exits, Takao stays behind pretending to tie his shoes, whereas Midorima remains a statue on the bench. His lucky item, a scale model airplane, takes the space vacated by their teammates.
The silence is suffocating and Takao is just about ready to explode. He takes a deep breath. "People have been saying the weirdest things to me today," he starts with a huff, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. Even without looking, he knows that Midorima hasn't moved, hasn't raised his head to recognize that Takao is speaking to him, and that's fine. Takao just needs to talk, let it all out. It doesn't matter if Midorima is there or not. (Except it totally does.) "Captaincy. Ha!" Takao rakes both hands through his hair, messing it up and pulling at it. "I don't understand why they didn't offer it to you! You're our ace, Shin-chan, and I'm just… I'm me!"
The self-depreciating tone is almost enough to push words out of Midorima's mouth but he keeps mum. He's angry at himself. He'd given it his all and it still wasn't enough. He'd let his team down again but more pressingly, he'd failed to show Takao that there's something for him here. That he doesn't have to look far, that he should stay and keep his focus right here because Midorima can take care of the points and the defense and everything else if Takao would just look at him – only him. It's Midorima's one unspoken selfish wish for the day and he blew it.
"I'm not a leader." I'm just a shadow. Your shadow.Takao slumps at the thought, elbows digging into his knees, face covered by his hands. "Being captain is no piece of cake, damn it." And speaking of cakes… The low fire that's settled in his belly sparks up at a certain memory. "Y'know, Shin-chan, your friend Murasakibara told me something funny at the end of the match…"
In spite of himself, Midorima raises his head a little.
Takao bites at his lip, unsure how he wants to sound as he repeats those poisonous words. "He said that Akashi sends his regards." There. Flat. Maybe with a little (a lot of) sneering. Takao slides his gaze towards the other end of the bench where Midorima has sat up and is staring back at him. "So Akashi's got hitmen from other teams, too? Fantastic."
"Akashi had nothing to do with the turnout of that match," Midorima tells him, objective. And even if Akashi had ordered Murasakibara to go all-out against them, Midorima is sure that Murasakibara has planned to do so even without Akashi's command; this is the final year of Yosen's formidable tandem, after all.
It's no surprise that Midorima has taken Akashi's side. Takao's mouth tastes a little bitter and it seeps into his tone. "I know. It's my fault we lost. It's never you or any of your damn Miracles' faults!"
Midorima opens his mouth to argue, to point out that their loss was a consequence of his own inadequacy, but Takao talks right over him.
"You always take their side, Shin-chan!"
"Well, you can't blame them for everything," Midorima snaps, feeling the need to match the heightened tension in Takao's voice. As always, he's no good at controlling himself when it comes to the other teen; the calm and collectedness he prides himself on is lost when faced with a Takao that's just bursting with emotions. "Not when much of the blame lies in our own hands."
"And I can't keep apologizing to you for every little thing," Takao cries, facing Midorima with a glare – not a trace of his characteristic smile on his face.
"I am not asking for your apology." Midorima's brows are furrowed, his lips pressed to a line. You don't have to apologize. "I just wish you'd learn to take responsibility." Learn from this loss and grow. Captain Jenrya offered me the captaincy but I refused because I know of a better candidate.
Takao wrings his hands together. He'll never win against Midorima. Not that he ever expects to, not that he really wants to. All he wants is for them to stand on the same ground and he's given that chance on court – a chance to prove his worth, his skill, his devotion. People keep telling him it's not whether you win or lose; it's how you play the game. Takao has been playing this game ever since he can remember. He's watched in awe of the better players and set his goals as high as he can get them, he trains and trains until he pukes his guts out and then he goes back for more. He doesn't deceive himself with dreaming of being on the same skill level as the Generation of Miracles but at the very least – "Why can't you just understand?" Takao whines, suddenly quiet like a kicked puppy.
This is certainly not how this conversation is supposed to go. Midorima is sure they're no longer on the same page; possibly not even on the same book. He never wants to see Takao look so defeated but that seems to be the only expression he brings out in his partner. Can they even be called partners? They're not even communicating properly. It's a right mess and Midorima wants nothing more than to fix it but what comes out of his mouth is - "If you want sympathy, then go run to Kagami" – which is apparently the worst possible thing he could have said at that moment.
The change in Takao is immediate. His eyes dilate and his face blotches with red, the look of the hunted taking over his defeated expression from moments before. His mouth opens and closes without a sound, he works his throat, his mind, but nothing comes out. Heartbeat thumping to the tune of panic, Takao wonders how could Midorima possibly know anything about that.
Neither of them speaks for a pregnant second, staring and deducing what they can from similarly distant expressions.
Takao moves first, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "Maybe I will." The unsteady first steps break out to a run the second he's out of the locker room.
••••••••••••
"Excuse me, coach, I need to talk to one Kagami Tai-chan, please."
Riko looks up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, surprised to find Shutoku's Takao standing beside her. The rest of his team has supposedly left, but more importantly she knows that he can't seriously expect to borrow her player when the game starts in fifteen minutes. "Can't it wait until after the match?"
"Just five minutes," Takao pleads, anxiety showing in the way he's rocking on his heels. "Or even one. Just give me one minute with him."
Pursing her lips, Riko has a firm reprove at the tip of her tongue when who else but Seirin's ace himself jogs up to them.
"Takao." It's a question as much as a greeting. Kagami is staring at him with a mix of worry and confusion.
"A quick talk, Tai-chan, that's all I'm asking," Takao implores, looking between ace and coach until Riko sighs, giving in.
"Fine. Make it super quick."
Takao gives a low bow. "Thank you."
Out on the court, Kuroko watches his light walk out with Shutoku's shadow. Hyuga passes a basketball over and he goes for a shoot with little success. Running to the back of the line, he catches Akashi's eyes from the other side of the court. Akashi's mien is subdued but Kuroko has a feeling that they were looking at the same thing just now.
The hallways are nearly empty with the second match of the day about to start. Kagami crosses his arms once Takao leads them to a stop, red catching silver in the brightly lit hall.
"This better be important," Kagami huffs.
"Oh, it is." Takao's expression turns dark as he steels himself. "What the hell did you tell my Shin-chan?"
"Midorima?" Kagami scowls, having no clue what brought this on. "I don't talk to the guy as much as I can help it."
"Then how did he know?"
"Know about what?"
"You know what!" Takao hisses, the color in his face collecting over his cheeks.
It's painfully obvious the moment it clicks for Kagami. He starts acting all nervous and suddenly can't look Takao in the eye. "Oh. That. W-What on earth made you think I'll tell him about that?"
"Well, I sure as hell didn't tell him." Takao crosses his arms. "And it was just you and me, buddy."
"But it was nothing!" Kagami exclaims. "You told me it was nothing!"
"It is!" Takao agrees, desperate to get to the bottom of this. "But for some reason Shin-chan knows and Murasakibara knows and I'll bet my Hawk Eyes that Akashi freaking knows, too!" He makes a frustrated noise and barely stops himself from stomping his feet.
"Whoa, whoa, how do you even–" The incinerating look on Takao's face silences him. Kagami clears his throat and tries a new approach. "Well, even if they know just tell them it's nothing!"
"And you seriously think they'll listen? To me?"
"Maybe. If you don't sound so hysteric," Kagami says, wryly. He places a hand on either side of Takao's temples and smooths the crinkled line of his brows with his thumb. "Yosen is one hell of a team and you're probably just reeling from the game results. Just… Calm down, alright? Midorima will listen to you, he has to, and once he understands, who cares about anyone else, yeah?"
Takao closes his eyes, letting Kagami's words wash over him like a waterfall; it's a pretty cleansing experience. Maybe he was going a little crazy back there; he never liked cramped spaces. Midorima didn't deserve to be shouted at like that. Midorima was only looking out for him, like he always does, because Takao is a big pain in the ass but Midorima keeps him around despite it all. Because Midorima cares. Ah, shit. "Sorry for dragging you out here," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Kagami's middle. He needs some sort of stability and Kagami is convenient enough to provide it. "I must've looked like a madman in front of Coach Riko."
Kagami grins, patting the top of Takao's head. "Yeah, you did. Why do you think I rushed over there the second I saw your crazy ass?"
"Hey. My ass isn't–"
"I know," Kagami interjects, ignoring the heat that creeps over his cheeks when Takao grins up at him. "And I could care less because I have no interest in it whatsoever. You, on the other hand…" He tucks his chin to his chest so that they can see eye to eye in their entangled position. "You're going to be fine."
"Mm, Kuroko is a lucky man," Takao says, quiet so that only Kagami would hear.
"Well, you're not a total disaster yourself," Kagami returns, pressing a kiss to Takao's forehead.
"Gee, thanks." The watery smile making its way across Takao's features stop short of reaching his eyes. In a split second, his relaxed posture stiffens and time slows down as he registers a figure just at the edges of his vision. Takao retracts his arms, jumping away from Kagami and turning to where Midorima is standing, staring at them from the end of the hallway. "S-Shin-chan…"
Kagami's eyes go wide. He swivels to face Midorima and nearly staggers back at the intensity of the anger he can sense boiling inside the other teen. "This isn't what it looks like."
"Go die." Midorima's tone drips with contempt and he walks out on them in quick, decisive steps.
"Mother of fuck," Kagami swears in English. Beside him, Takao is muttering "I am dead, I am dead" in a broken whisper.
From around the corner echoes a chirpy greeting, "Hey, Midorimacchi~ Hey – Ow! What–?"
"Look where you're fucking going!" A gruff voice that is definitely not Midorima follows.
"All of you should just die!" There. That one's Midorima, sounding farther and farther away (though no less angry) with every syllable.
Kise's pouting face morphs into concern when he finds the other pair standing static in the middle of the hallway. "What are you two doing here?" he asks with a tilt of the head.
"You're up against Rakuzan, aren't ya?" Aomine scowls at Kagami who finally snaps to attention.
"Oh shit, right." Kagami knows he should run back to the court stat but… "Takao, I am so sorry. Fuck, I didn't know–"
But Takao isn't processing anything, eyes unseeing as he looks straight ahead.
"Shit." Kagami runs a hand through his hair, looking helplessly at Kise and Aomine, both of whom are sending him strange looks. "Long story short, Midorima saw us and told us to go die. Takao seems to have taken that literally and–" A booming voice from the stereo system announces that the Seirin vs. Rakuzan game will be starting shortly. "Damn it."
Aomine looks unimpressed, wagging his pointing finger between Kagami and Takao. "So you two are…"
"No!" Kagami is one popped vein away from strangling Touou's ace. "There is nothing going on but – Argh! I can't leave him like this!"
"I'll take care of him," Kise speaks up with a sudden sense of purpose. He moves to Takao's side, waving a hand in front of his face. No reaction. "Aominecchi, you drag Kagamicchi here to his game." When both teens only stare at him, Kise shoos them away with his hand. "Go! Takaocchi is in good hands. Get going, Kagamicchi! And good luck~"
"Alright, you heard the guy." Aomine grabs Kagami by the collar of his jersey and hauls him in the direction of the court.
Kagami chokes for half a moment before wresting himself away and jogging ahead. He looks back at Takao and grudgingly shoves his worries to the back of his mind.
Aomine catches up to him easily, but says nothing.
He can feel the glare sent his way and Kagami resists the urge to roll his eyes. "No, Aomine. Whatever ridiculous thing you're thinking about – the answer's no."
"Good," Aomine spits out. "Because if I find out you're playing Tetsu, I won't just tell you to die. I'll bury you myself."
Kagami huffs. Look who's talking.
••••••••••••
"Takaochhi… Hey, Takaocchi…"
The soothing voice reaches him through the fog that has enveloped his mind. He recognizes it as that of a friend and reaches for it. Takao shakes his head, blinking as he's reacquainted with his surroundings. He finds himself in one of the snack bars inside the sports arena, he breathes in the smell of food and his stomach grumbles a little. Looking around, he nearly falls off his seat at the sight of Kise's smiling face on the other side of the table. "Whoa."
"Welcome back, Takaocchi," Kise greets, pacifying and kind. "You gave us quite a scare back there. Feeling better?"
"I guess," Takao mumbles, putting his palm over his forehead and finding a normal temperature. "I'm not sick or anything but…"
Kise forces himself to hold still as Takao's face crumples right in front of him.
"Hey, Kise-chi…" Takao says in a hushed tone, worrying his bottom lip. "Shin-chan just told me to go die, didn't he?"
"Well~ that's true, but he says that to me all the time," Kise points out gently. "He never really means it."
"But he does, this time, he does." His blurry vision tells him he's about to cry more than the fact that his hands are shaking even as he forces to keep them fisted over his lap. "I keep trying to fix things but I just… I only mess it up even more."
Kise allows him a few seconds of silence. Treading gently, he prods. "Can you really not think of any reason why Midorimacchi would act that way?"
Takao looks at him, crushed. "Not you, too."
Kise raises both hands in a show of mollification. "That photo you posted yesterday? Everyone's seen it. And it's nice to see all you guys being so chummy but… you and Kagamicchi… you kind of stood out. Anyone would've assumed there was something going on."
"To be fair," Takao grimaces through his confession. "I was only supposed to meet up with Tai-chan yesterday… The other guys just… happened."
The smile falls right off Kise's face. His sharp eyes bore into Takao's, reading every tick in his expression, every shift of his body. "You better start explaining, Takaocchi. Now."