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Another winter day was slowly ending at Shuutoku. Practice had been productive but Midorima Shintarou was once again staying behind. Before entering this high school, Takao would have been mad at the shooter, he would have accused him of showing off.
But now he knew. Now he knew that Midorima Shintarou was this good because he practised a lot. A lot more than anyone else Takao had played with.
And that's why he stayed behind too. Because he admired Midorima, because he didn't want to be left behind now that he had finally managed to be acknowledged by the guy for something else than his pedalling abilities.
He wasn't the best player and he knew it, but he also knew that practise made perfect. He had the proof right before his eyes.
Which was why he stayed. Observing Shin-chan during his shooting practice, his form while he shot, to try finding ways to block him, these things were invaluable. He was one of the lucky few to have ever been able to witness this and he wouldn't, for anything else in the world, give up the opportunity to learn.
Takao had always been good at understanding other, which played a great part in his greatness as a point-guard, but somehow, Shintarou was something else entirely.
And Kazunari Takao needed to understand his teammates to be able to play with them and to help them show the best of their abilities.
However, no matter how hard he tried, Midorima always stayed an enigma.
After a while he stopped caring. Midorima was strange but he was also simple. In a match, he always aimed to shoot and not miss. Once Takao understood this, Midorima's excentric personality out of the court didn't really matter anymore.
But Takao was fascinated either way. He couldn't stop looking. He didn't want to stop looking and he didn't want to stop doing unexpected things just to observe how Shintarou would react.
Which was why he chose to throw a snowball at Midorima on their way home.
The reaction he got was priceless. He laughed.
"I don't see what's so funny Takao."
"Your - your face ..." he kept on laughing, only stopping when a snowball hit the back of his head.
"What the hell are you doing Shin-chan?"
He shrugged, "Payback."
Midorima was always clear and to the point whenever he talked, which wasn't too often, and Takao liked that about him. Takao laughed some more and, with deliberate slowness, gathered some more snow to make another ball. He expected Midorima to dodge but he didn't and it made him laugh even more.
"You were supposed to dodge that! Geez, Shin-chan do I need to teach you the rules of snowball fights?"
He cleaned his glasses and put them back on his nose, "Of course not."
Their fight kept on and left them exhausted. A smile was gracing Midorima's lips.
"Shin-chan, I don't think I can ..." he couldn't finish his sentence, interupted by yet another laugh.
"What is it Takao?"
"Your - your hair."
"So what?"
"It looks like there's grass trying to peak out of the snow on your head. It's hilarious."
Midorima tried to remove some with his hands, failing.
"Here, let me help Shin-chan."
Takao combed Midorima's hair through his fingers, effectively removing all traces of snow from his locks.
"Thank you Takao."
"No problem Shin-chan!"