Chapter Text
“Takao! From today on, you’ll be Shuutoku’s new captain.” Nakatani-sensei announced during their last day at the Winter Cup after Yuuya-senpai and the other upperclassmen had given their farewell speech. Another loss against Seirin got them out of the finals, but this time they had fallen to fourth place losing against Touou. For second year straight, their chances of being crowned champions was cut short, and this year Yosen took the lead, winning the gold thanks to Murasakibara and Himuro’s double ace strategy. They still had the upcoming Inter High and the last Winter Cup for their third year in High School to take the golden trophy home, perhaps even the Nationals, but it would be the last for the two of them. Takao felt pride building up in his chest as his senpai announced his promotion, as he had waited for this moment for such a long time. He’d no longer use the number 10 jersey next year. Number 4 was reserved for captains and he’d wear it proudly.
“Yes, sir!” Takao said, with tears still running down his cheeks out of frustration. Yet, the news made a few tears of joy sprout as well.
“Midorima, I hope you won’t give him too many headaches as vice captain.” From the corner of his tired and blurry eyes, Takao managed to see a smile creeping on Shin-chan’s face.
“I won’t, sir. Thank you.”
“Then, the third years and I will be retiring after tomorrow’s match. It’s all in your hands now. Remember you have to support yourselves with the second years and train hard with the newcomers in order to take Shuutoku to victory. It has eluded us for the past two years, but I’m completely sure our pride is in capable hands now.” Those words given by Yuuya-senpai made Takao nervous, but incredibly excited.
“Remember, Persistent and Tireless, that’s Shutoku’s spirit!”
Practice was about to begin and Takao was panting nervously with his eyes wide open. Midorima looked at him, worried and slightly amused, as if he expected his friend to implode at any moment. Concern even began to show on Tae-chan’s face, the moment their reliable manager noticed the captain had turned incredibly pale.
“Uhh… Takao-senpai, are you ok?” the second-year girl asked, poking him on the shoulder.
“YES! yes!” He managed to calm down and combed his hair back with his fingers before fixing it with a headband.
“You’ve never been on a position of command, have you?” Midorima asked, throwing a towel at his head. “It’s not that hard, besides, you have Tae-san, the coach and me behind your back.”
“Shut up, Shin-chan!! You’ve never been captain either!” He snapped but received the towel gratefully as he wiped his sweat before going out to the court. He’d greet the first-years and he’d call on the regulars for their first practice match against Seirin in three weeks. He had to instruct everyone on their training regimes and watch over them, find their strengths and weaknesses as a team. Takao had a strange plan in mind he had scarcely talked about with Nakatani-sensei, and just barely mentioned it to Shin-chan before going on vacation break. He didn’t know if it’d work, but he might as well try. If his weird training project bear any results by their first official match, Takao would consider himself satisfied.
“You’ll do fine, Takao-senpai!” The younger girl said cheerfully, handing him a copy with every new member’s name written on it. He sighed. It was time to finally introduce himself to the newcomers and greet his old comrades, it was time to give their first steps into a new year of challenges for Shutoku’s basketball team.
The court was filled with the new members that had managed to incorporate themselves to the first string, thus becoming potential regulars for the team. As expected, most of them were second-year students and a few freshmen that had shown enough talent and heart to survive the two-week starting trials. Takao and Midorima were the only third years this time, and the only second-year student that had managed to join past year returned now as well. A young boy with auburn hair called Kyou Inazuma greeted them with a kind smile and stood besides Midorima when the coach announced his name to join the regulars again. Other underclassmen had been benched during the Inter High, but most of them were new faces Takao would have to memorize and greet individually as their training progressed.
The coach introduced them as the captain and vice captain, after announcing the other two new members of the team. Another second year covered the small forward position, and a first year would be taking the power forward. For what Takao had read, that boy had a lot of potential, perhaps even as great as Midorima’s when he first came to Shuutoku. Handling a prodigy had become some sort of habit for him, but managing two of them at the time would definitely be an interesting challenge. The coach gave each member their training menu and the instructions for the first week of practice, and so, they set on to resume their training from where they left off before vacation.
As it had been a rule of thumb for the past year, Midorima and Takao usually practiced together, trying to hone their combined skills as much as possible. Their abilities both as individuals and as partners had given them a lot of advantages during their matches, but it wasn’t enough to bring the other members of the Generation of Miracles down. Even if Kagami’s attacks were brutal and Kuroko’s passing skills were beyond-human, their teamwork completely overpowered Shutoku’s own duo and their strategies: it wasn’t just individual power, it was the complex basketball they played based on combination of strengths.
Against Touou, Aomine entering the Zone was the thing that caused their downfall, as he drained everyone’s stamina as they tried to block him and the rest of the team landed points while untargeted. Teamwork, resistance, individual skill, technique, there were many things that needed to be polished before the upcoming tournament. Takao was sure they’d make it this time, though. It was their last year. They had to.
“Guys, before you go home…” Takao asked everyone to stay a few minutes after practice was over. “I want to thank you all for your hard work. This year we’ll be taking the golden trophy with us, we’ll be champions and we’ll be unstoppable with our new recruits and our old members joining forces.”
Takao didn’t notice, but Midorima smiled as he listened the newly-appointed captain cheering up for their team with kind words.
“We have strong players like Inazuma-kun, Shin-ch… I mean, Midorima, and myself, of course, but we’ve also got talented new players joining our ranks this year. I’m sure we’ll stride to victory this time. Now… there’s one thing I’ve been waiting to tell you, please sit down so I can explain, please.”
Midorima had heard many times before during the past month, while talking on the phone with Takao, about an evil master plan he had for this year’s training. Takao had been really excited about it and he kept pestering him about it for weeks, but he never said a thing about it. Midorima was sure it was going to be something stupid, something highly idealistic that would make Takao’s hopes crash and burn when they failed the first time. Yet, Yuuya-senpai and the other upperclassmen had given them such power. As every good vice captain, Midorima could intervene, but he had to follow instructions. At least he could argue and negotiate with Takao, in given case his ideas were far too idiotic.
“The results from past years were good, but far from satisfying. I asked our manager to help us research which were our weakest points and which were our biggest flaws during our last matches and we noticed something in particular that I have an special interest in fixing.” Takao sighed and asked everyone to pick a partner that they trusted or they believed they might get along with, in case of the first years.
“Our biggest flaw, ever since Midorima and I joined the team, was focusing solely on individual skill. We need to improve our teamwork while we’re still preserving our individuality, and that’s precisely what I’m aiming for. For the past year, we’ve noticed we manage to do a great work if we play in partnerships, polishing compound skills as a whole. There are multiple combinations in a team of five, but having a player supporting another at all times has shown us that it improves our general teamwork. That’s why I want you to try having training partners, switch around until you find someone who fits your type of basketball. Then, we’ll craft our team according to our necessities.”
“Huh, that’s actually not a bad idea.” Midorima said, admitting it had been their training routine for the past year and a half and it had shown many good results.
“Yes, but I’m not finished. I have another proposal. We lack resistance, which is something we’ll improve with rough training. But we also lack patience, mental strength and, most of all… our team was incredibly predictable during the past tournament.” Takao lowered his eyes with a very uncharacteristic look on them: he looked disappointed. “We lack spontaneity, because all of our players were stuck inside their comfort zones for too long. We repeated our safe plays over and over again, and as such, the other teams were able to read us like a book. Our team needs fresh strategy, but it also needs people able to break away from routine and normalcy.”
The underclassmen spoke within themselves, some with excited faces, other with annoyance in their eyes. Takao knew not all of them were going to like the idea of having to put extra-effort into it, (Shin-chan possibly being one of them), but he knew the path he wanted to take his team across. They’d have to show him results, or they’d get kicked out of it as soon as they started to detriment the team.
“It’s optional to join this task, by the way, unless the coach insist you must do it. If you accept it, I’ll ask you to report on your progress each week, to see if results are showing or not.” Takao explained, dismissing the underclassmen immediately afterwards. They all headed for the showers and a few of them discussed their ideas of his plan with Takao, mainly receiving a positive response.
“Good job on your first day.” Midorima said after coming out of the showers with just his pants on. He searched for a dry shirt on his locker and put it over his torso as soon as possible, as the weather was still cold and the breeze burned his skin. “I hope your training regime brings good results.”
“As upperclassmen, we’re going to have to give them the best example, Shin-chan!” Takao teased, returning to his goofy self. “Don’t think I’m going to let you get away from it.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to do so, of course.” Midorima fixed his glasses and sat on the wooden bench, waiting for Takao to finish.
Since their last year, they had agreed not to take the cart anymore after a minor incident with a red light Takao overlooked, but they’d usually bike home together. More than often, they’d end up on Midorima’s house doing homework or spending a lazy evening reading manga and play videogames with Takao’s sister at his house, they’d even go out for a match on the parking lot across Kazunari’s apartment. Takao had to admit he was grateful Shin-chan had opened a lot more to him during their second year and now he actually recognized him as his best friend. More than that, he had become really kind to him, in comparison to the unsociable first-year boy that repelled Takao at all costs.
“That’s good… because I actually have to discuss something about it with you.” Takao sat besides him, crossing his legs over the bench. “We’ll be doing something slightly different than the rest of the team.”
“Didn’t you say we are supposed to give them an example?”
“Yes, but our trial will be quite harder, Shin-chan.” His tone changed again. Takao’s sight got lost in the ceiling as he leaned down on the bench, trying to find the best words to explain his plans to his friend. “My personal challenge is to make you the best player at the next Winter Cup, by the time we finish High School. Not one of Teiko’s former miracles, no. I’m going to make you the best player. ‘Shintaro Midorima of Shuutoku High, the best player of his generation, trained under his friend, coach and captain Kazunari Takao’, how does it sound, huh? ”
“That’s…” Midorima seemed to be repressing a series of insults, but he prefered to keep silent in front of his partner’s excitement.
“I’ve told you I want to study sports management in college, right? Well, at least that’s one of my options. If I manage to do this, I think I’d get accepted at any school I want, it’s no easy feat to make someone like you reach their perfect form. Perhaps even a scholarship might come… I want you to shine to your true potential, which I believe you’ve not found yet.”
“Perhaps you’re overestimating me, Takao.” Shin-chan fixed his glasses again, acknowledging he had several flaws he considered impossible to patch.
“No, I know a prodigy when I see one, Shin-chan. I know for a fact that, a) you’re not using your whole potential, or b) you’re not even aware of it. We know all of your Teiko teammates have entered the Zone but…”
“I cannot enter the Zone.” He said with a severe voice and a frow. “I’m already at my full potential while---”
“You do not want to enter the Zone, it’s a completely different thing.” Takao shook his head and pointed violently at Midorima’s face with a decisive gesture. “I’ll prove to you that you can do wonders if you get out of that annoying comfort zone of yours! If you swallow your pride and you trust your teammates, you’ll become unstoppable. For that, unfortunately, I’ll need you to cooperate at 110%, Shin-chan!”
“Explain yourself. You’re not making sense.” Midorima scolded him with a frow.
“OK, this is my theory:” Takao took a deep breath before he started explaining, but his stare didn’t waver. “Your pride keeps you for achieving your true power. Your limits are not a physical barrier: as we’ve seen, you’ve pretty much mastered your technique, your special abilities and your body is reaching maturity. You can withstand an entire match using your full strenght. Your limits are here, Shin-chan!”
Takao poked his forehead, which made Midorima’s frown deepen greatly, but Takao just laughed it off and ignored the angered stare directed at him.
“If I take you out of your comfort zone, pushing you to do things you may consider embarrassing or impossible, I’m sure you’ll become the best player on the court by the end of the year.”
Midorima stared at him with confusion, but he had to agree Takao was determined to make it all work out in the end. He had very good arguments he had only fathomed in his mind every once in awhile. He hated to admit he was an incomplete player, thus he usually denied it and prided himself in his perfectly honed skills. Formless shots, dunking, passing tricks… there were many things he had no idea how to deal with that perhaps would make his play much stronger than he could ever imagine. He was trusting Takao blindly on this, but he was sure he had good reasons to propose a crazy plan like this. The green haired teen stretched out a hand, accepting Takao’s challenge.
“Promise me something, Kazu.” It was unusual for him to use that pet name when they were at school, where everyone could hear him. He only used it when they were alone, which only showed how close they had become. At times, it almost hurt him when Midorima was that kind to him.
If you only knew, Shin-chan .
“You’ll catch up to me. We’ll be the best, together. I need to have a worthy partner” Midorima said, that prideful and arrogant tone on his voice usually made Takao angry, yet, for the first time, it also made him incredibly happy.
“Hah! You don’t sound like yourself, Shin-chan! Sure, you’ve got yourself a deal!” Takao shook his hand with a grin on his face.
...If you only knew why am I doing all of this…