Chapter Text
Midorima kept up with the lecture and made methodical, clean notes while the professor talked about various biochemical reactions. It wasn’t his favorite subject, but it was necessary to master if he wanted to becoming a successful doctor like he planned. Normally in the past two years of study he’s had no problem focusing during these lectures, but today his eyes kept darting to the back of a blond head a few rows in front of him.
What is Kise doing here, he kept asking himself, knowing how hard it was to get into this school. It was the middle of the school year. Not to mention that Kise’s never in his life showed any interest towards biology, much less biochemistry. And if the former can be explained with an athletic scholarship, the latter can’t be explained at all. “It’s unnatural,” Midorima decided, cursing himself for missing the last few sentences the professor uttered. Cursing Kise, too, it was his fault after all.
In the past two years, Midorima hasn’t kept up with anyone from their basketball gang, except Takao who is more persistent than a rash when it comes to friendships and upkeeping bonds. Midorima was grateful for that, deep down, since his own studies (and if he’s honest, his unwillingness to show interest in people) kept him from doing much of anything else other than studying. It was a grueling education process, and he knew of many professional doctors who have little to no social life – which was always a sacrifice he was ready for. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of *something* when he recognized his former teammate among his classmates. He should probably talk to Kise. Out of curiosity if nothing else, to find out why he’s here.
Once the class was over, students started siphoning through the exit and all was well within its regular order, until Midorima heard his name with that annoying little ‘—cchi’ at the end whined behind him. Upon turning around in the crowd, he noticed Kise grinning and waving his hand at him as if they were at an empty park, not a university auditorium. It wasn’t difficult to spot each other for them, their heads easily poking out of the crowd around them due to their exceptional height, yet Kise still felt the need to yell out his name and make this scene.
“Still an idiot,” Midorima noted to himself, but stopped to wait for the blond once he was through the door. Eventually the students thinned until it was just them standing in the hallway – everyone else always kept moving like fish in a river, but luckily for Midorima it was his last class of the day and he had nowhere to rush. He didn’t know about Kise’s classes. Or anything about the Kise of today, in fact.
Kise actually hugged him, a full-bodied embrace with both arms wrapped around him. Midorima didn’t even react at first, his glasses tilted a little from Kise’s gesture. He also briefly thought that this was the first time he’s touched a person in a few weeks – he really should get out more.
“Midorimacchi, I was so happy when I spotted you!” Kise exclaimed with a huge, genuine grin as he stepped back and patted Midorima on his shoulder with quite a bit of enthusiastic force.
Midorima grunted in response, clearing his throat as he otherwise was not sure how to react.
“I only just now got the papers sorted with my transfer, this was literally my first class in this uni, and there you were just walking casually as if it wasn’t a big deal!” the blond kept talking for the both of them, his yellow eyes darting from Midorima’s hair to his eyes to his tie and back to his eyes. “I knew you went to Med School somewhere, but I had no one idea we were fated to be together!”
“Fated,” Midorima chewed on the word in surprise, still rudely neither greeting Kise nor responding with any kind of friendly gesture.
“Yeah! I mean, there’s no one else here from the teams, right?”
“No,” Midorima adjusted his glasses finally, realizing he’d been standing with them crooked on his nose this whole time. “I did see in my horoscope that I was going to reacquaint myself with an old talent. I guess it was about my ability to withstand your ridiculousness.”
“Midorimacchi!” Kise whined as if wounded, “You’re as mean as ever! And here I am, here for you, after having crossed continents!”
“You’re not here for me,” Midorima replied flatly, and quirked an eyebrow at Kise, “And what do you mean about the continents?”
“Oh, well, I was in LA last year, remember? With an exchange program?”
“Oh,” he did not remember. “There’s an explanation for your ridiculous tan, then.”
While Kise was looking down at himself, Midorima turned around and already started walking off towards the cafeteria, but slowed down when he heard Kise catching up with him from behind. He also sighed in feigned annoyance; in truth he was glad for the company.
“So how’s the basketball team here?” Kise asked him once he caught up, looking up at Midorima and then straightening up to seemingly check their height difference. It was the same as when they last met, from Midorima’s perspective.
“I… don’t know, actually. I needed to focus on my studies, and quickly found out that I can’t do that and perform well at basketball. So, I quit.” It was surprisingly difficult to confess, and Midorima immediately started wondering why he felt that way. It wasn’t quite shame, but it was close. He was not used to feeling this emotion, whatever it is.
“Well, seeing how you’re here, I guess you quit basketball and not the school,” Kise pondered with a finger on his chin.
How did he get into this school, Midorima wondered to himself once again with a roll of his eyes.
“It explains the fact that your hand is unbandaged!” Midorima looked down at his left hand involuntarily. It’s true. Now he manicures it because he likes the neatness, not because he wants to preserve his play. “Well, we could still one-on-one later, when you have time away from your very serious studies,” Kise mocked him by adjusting invisible glasses with his own left hand. Then he beamed a smile again that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and looked at Midorima, “Do you have time for any extracurriculars? I saw a poster for a talent show next month, want to sign up together?”
Midorima couldn’t help but give a short incredulous laugh to the suggestion. Here he is, brand new to this school, to Midorima’s life, barging in like a truck full of pineapples, and the first thing he does is suggest they enter a talent show of all things?
At the cafeteria, Midorima only purchased a large coffee while Kise barraged him with questions about the cafeteria, the University grounds, the dorms, the classmates, the professors... Having been fed enough short answers, Kise decided to go for some sort of frothy fluffy macchiato drink when it was his turn to order, making Midorima question Kise’s awareness of nutritional values of things – again, how is he in this school? At least while the blond was busy ordering and chatting, or more likely flirting, with the cashier, Midorima was able to get some time to evaluate him visually.
They’ve both gained a little height since they last met, but it’s probably the last of their respective growth spurts. Their height difference remained the same, however, as he previously noticed. While Midorima lost some muscle mass after quitting the basketball club, Kise seemed to be shapelier than when they last met. He was dressed in what’s probably considered stylish. His hair was sun-bleached and his skin was tanned like he noticed before – after a year in California it’s logical. His eyes… Well, he’s probably just jet-lagged still, but Midorima could swear he noticed a shade of sadness to them earlier. Does Kise not want to be where he is?
I don’t want him to be where he is, Midorima thought almost by reflex, but then immediately shook his head. It wasn’t true. He was glad Kise was here, as annoying as he was. Just seeing Kise today made Midorima realize how lonely he’s been and just didn’t notice because of how busy he was. He used to talk to at least five different friends every day, back in high school. Now it’s just Takao every week, if they can make it – well, if Midorima himself can make it. He should show up more.
“So, talent show?” Midorima asked Kise when the blond arrived with his dessert-drink in hand, sipping on it through a red straw. “What kind of talent would we show?”
“I suppose we wouldn’t exactly dazzle anyone with some dunks and three-pointers,” Kise chuckled, “I thought maybe we’d do something musical. You play an instrument, right?”
“Piano.”
“Right, right, so we can do that!”
“You mean, play together?” Midorima blinked at Kise who nodded at him. “Can you play?”
“Not yet, but how hard can it be?”
Tch, how annoying is this brat, Midorima thought. He’s played for fifteen years, almost every day, and this— Midorima stopped his thoughts with a sigh. What’s the use? He probably *can* learn on the fly, if he tried. There’s no point being irritated with it, especially when it’s not used against him.
“Alright,” Midorima announced, and Kise almost choked on his drink in surprise, “What time can you come to my apartment to rehearse… something?”
“Just like that? We’re gonna do it?” Kise grinned at him. Midorima just looked at him flatly, not feeling that his response is required, and then averting his gaze when Kise coyly asked him next, “You have an apartment, huh?”
“Yes. My parents rent it for me, so I have somewhere quiet to study and practice. I can’t exactly move a piano into a dorm room.” Midorima wasn’t sure why he felt some sort of embarrassment at admitting that, either. Whatever Kise’s presence is doing to him, it’s strange. Maybe he’s just out of practice casually talking to people?
Kise slurped his drink through the straw rather loudly, studying Midorima’s expression with his glinting yellow eyes, smiling a cat-like smile. He actually looked like himself just now, which brought a strange sense of contentedness to Midorima. Or, more likely, just nostalgia.
“I have a place too,” Kise eventually announced, “but I don’t’ have a piano.” His brows furrowed, and he reached down for Midorima’s wrist. He was about to protest, but all the blond did was look at the face of his watch to read the time. “I’m sorry, Midorimacchi, but I need to go – well, I actually needed to go a while earlier but it can’t be helped now. Why don’t you text me the address?”
“I don’t have your number,” Midorima blurted out, taking his wrist back, not knowing why it felt so warm.
Kise looked at him wounded, and Midorima couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t want to show it, though.
“It’s my old number; it was just inactive while I was abroad. I’m sure you’ll find it,” was all the blond said, and then chased away whatever hurt there was in his eyes before he semi-embraced Midorima around the shoulder, and left.
“Hm,” Midorima cleared his throat once he was left alone, looking down at his coffee cup. After the whirlwind of Kise’s constant chattering and touching, he felt strangely uncomfortable being by himself now, when he was perfectly comfortable with it just this morning. He adjusted his tie, took another sip, and went on his way as well. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Midorima scrolled through his contacts for a while before finding Kise’s number. He felt a pang of *something* again when he saw the message ‘last used 17 months ago’, and then again when he opened their text chat and noticed that the last message was Kise congratulating him with his birthday last year. “At least I didn’t tell him to go die,” Midorima told himself as if it made him feel better, and hovered his thumb over the keyboard for a little while, deciding what to write.
“Thank you. Happy belated Birthday to you, too.”
No. *Erase*.
“Hello, Kise. Hope you’re well.”
No. *Erase*.
“Found your number. I’m sorry for”
No. *Erase*. Why is this so hard?
“My address is […]. Come after 8.”
Midorima sighed, staring at the words, and thought himself a socially inept recluse. *Send*.
- - -
Midorima looked over at the clock on his microwave across the room and noted that it was already ten in the evening. Kise never replied to him after he sent that text, so at this point Midorima was going to assume he wasn’t going to come. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed, as his fingers glided over the keys of his piano, producing a song he thought was simple enough to introduce to Kise.
Then, as he was ready to finish up and get ready for bed himself, someone rang his doorbell. He had a gut feeling something peace-disturbing was going to happen, and he wasn’t wrong. When the door was opened, Kise was standing there, wearing different clothes, with glitter in his hair, and an ever so slight glossiness in his eyes which betrayed his inebriation.
“Midorimacchi, hi!” Kise exclaimed, inviting himself in and quickly slipping out of his shoes before Midorima even closed the door. “Sorry I’m so late, at some point I thought I wasn’t going to make it at all, but then decided no, you know what, I have to make it, I promised Midorimacchi!”
“You didn’t, actually,” Midorima countered, but he was unsure if Kise even registered his response. The blond looked over the whole apartment, and then took something out of his bag before he let it slip off his shoulder and land on the floor.
“Look what I got us,” he presented the icy-cold bottle to the host, which he took to read its label.
“Hard lemonade?” Midorima looked skeptically at Kise from over his glasses
“No, no, it’s hard lemon-lime-onade~” Kise corrected him with a sing-songy voice, tapping at the label in front of Midorima’s nose. It was a ridiculous suggestion for a drink. “See, there’s the lemon, and there’s the lime, they’re just like you and me!” he snickered, which was also ridiculous, but then he made it even more so by adding, “You’re the lemon because you’re so sour all the time, and I’m the lime because I am so fresh and zesty~” Kise shimmied his shoulders in some kind of dance movement Midorima hasn’t seen before, and burst out into a giddy laughter.
“I’ll… get us glasses,” Midorima said flatly, just to have the conversation about lemons and limes be over with at least, and gestured Kise towards the piano.
“Oh, here it is, the instrument,” sitting down on the bench, Kise said this with a sort of reverence in his voice, before tentatively lifting the lid and uncovering the keys. It was interesting to see him almost in awe at the piano, since he not only definitely has seen pianos before, Kise’s even seen Midorima play before. Granted, it was many years ago when they were children, but nonetheless it’s not like it was a hidden world Kise had no access to before. Midorima was secretly intrigued by Kise’s interest, wondering if the blond actually cared about this talent show this much.
To Midorima’s surprise, Kise placed his right hand on the keys in a decent position, and started playing a simple exercise routine arpeggio, up and down the keys. To his unanswered question, Kise only replied that he watched a couple tutorials on his train ride over just now. Midorima didn’t react to this information, internally a little envious at the ease with which Kise picked up new skills, and placed a couple coasters on the top of the piano, followed by tall glasses filled with this… “drink” that Kise brought.
Midorima didn’t have it in his habit to consume alcohol. He wasn’t sure if he was going to drink this one, or that Kise was going to notice one way or the other. Before Midorima sat down on the bench next to Kise, the latter already emptied half of one glass and placed it back on the top of the piano. There was something in his expression that didn’t sit well with Midorima, but he didn’t know how to ask about it, or what “it” even was that bothered him.
“Why is there glitter in your hair?” Midorima asked after a small pause, his eyes tracing down from the top of Kise’s hair, to his shoulders also sporting a few spots of glitter, all the way down to the floor which now also glittered back at him.
“Oh, sorry,” Kise’s hand reached into his blond locks to straighten one of them out to allow Kise to look at it, crossing his eyes a little. “There were some party poppers at my sister’s birthday, I guess someone must’ve aimed theirs too high because this doesn’t usually happen to me,” he chuckled, but there was no mirth to it.
“Ah, yes, your sister is a fire sign,” Midorima remembered now that it was Kise’s eldest sister’s birthday this month. “How is Kise-san?” he asked out of politeness, placing his own hands on the keys in preparation.
“At this time?” Kise reached over for Midorima’s right wrist again, looking at his watch, then releasing it as he answered, “Not up to anything good.” He was still smiling, but it was so obviously fake even Midorima could spot that. Deciding against asking about Kise-san since it didn’t actually interest him what she was up to, Midorima decided to ask Kise:
“Are you okay?” There was something undeniably off about the blond, and it was clear that Kise was trying his best to run away from it, whatever it was. Kise looked at him, then, and they held each other’s gaze for a few seconds. There was something there, something sad and lonely, or perhaps that was just the reflection of his own eyes in the yellow ones that he saw.
“Of course,” Kise answered with a short smile, “I’m with you!” Before Midorima could retort, he also added, with genuine enthusiasm: “And, I had another idea. What if… you did the music, and I did interpretive dancing!”
“Huh?”
“Just hear me out, hear me out,” Kise stood up from the bench, emptied one of the glasses, and took off his overshirt, remaining in a white tank top that was under it. Midorima’s expression was stoic yet impatient when a faint cloud of glitter fell upon him – Kise better hope none of it gets inside the piano. “Play something! Something complicated! The more rhythm changes the better,” Kise instructed him, walking into the center of the living room.
Midorima’s artistic side had to agree that the lighting on Kise was quite appropriate for a… dance display, or something like that. Only the wall sconce was lit up above the piano, casting soft yellow light into about half of the room, while the other half was illuminated with the blueish, silverish lights of the city coming in from the tall windows. And, as annoyed as he was at the prospect of vacuuming up all that glitter later, he had to admit it looked interesting. Like a veil of gold dust that whirled around Kise with each turn, trailed him with each step.
“Try to keep up, then,” Midorima said, setting up a music sheet that he knew he’d need to at least glimpse at now and then. He didn’t quite know this composition by heart, but on some level, he thought it would work with an… what did he call it? Interpretive dance.
First notes filled the room, and Kise’s body responded to each one with a rhythmic movement. Even as the song intensified, Kise kept up, and Midorima thought for a second that, perhaps, it wasn’t such a silly idea for an entry into a talent show. As disinterested as he was in dancing, let alone modern dancing, he couldn’t help but be captured by Kise’s performance. But, just as the song started approaching its most rhythmically interesting segment, Kise stopped and burst out laughing, covering his face with both hands. His shoulders were shaking when he just said “Midorimacchi,” and continued laughing.
Midorima sighed, disappointed that he didn’t get to finish the composition – nobody likes to stop two thirds of the way before the end. He stopped playing, and turned in his seat to look at Kise expectantly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the blond explained, waving a hand in the air and interrupting himself with more laughter, “I just saw how seriously you were looking at me and felt so on the spot!”
Is he serious, Midorima thought to himself with a grunt. Did he not account for the audience looking at him, too, if he were to dance in front of them? Besides, Kise was never one to be embarrassed by eyes being turned on him. If anything, he always seemed to revel in the attention. What changed?
“It was your suggestion, what kind of a fool are you to be embarrassed by it now?”
“I know, I know, that’s why it’s so funny,” Kise agreed completely, calming his laughter and looking around. “Maybe it’ll help if I’d learned more about you,” he suggested, and before Midorima could protest in any way he already entered his bedroom.
“You’ve known me for ten years, Kise,” Midorima simply stated. He could go and wrestle Kise out of his room, but not only does he not have anything to hide in there, he also isn’t sure if he *could* wrestle the blond right now. He should start going to gym.
Kise peeked out of the doorframe to look at Midorima with a coy expression, and he said, “Let me guess, this little wardrobe here is for your clothes, and that walk-in closet over there is for Midorimacchi’s lucky items, isn’t it?”
“Some of them are quite big,” Midorima admitted, adjusting his glasses and wishing that he did wrestle Kise out of there. He better not mess the order of those lucky items!
“Well, don’t worry, after everyone sees us win the contest, they will all swoon around you, no lucky items needed!” promising this, Kise returned back into the living room and straddled the bench by the piano, facing Midorima and reaching up for the other glass – just like he thought, Kise wasn’t going to notice that he wasn’t drinking.
“It’s absurd. I don’t want that, you idiot,” he protested.
“Oh, come on, just imagine all the girls circling around you, being like, oh, Midorima-kun, you’re so tall,” Kise leaned over one side of the bench, “Oh, Midorima-kun, your hands are so pretty,” Kise ran his hand up Midorima’s arm and circled it around his shoulder.
“Oi, Kise—”
“Midorima-kun, you’re so musical,” Kise leaned over the other side of the bench, and before Midorima could bat his hand away, the blond leaned forward, “Oh, Midorima-kun, we just want to kiss you~”
And then he kissed him.
Midorima’s heart felt like it stopped, just like time did. Their lips touched for just a second, maybe even less, but it felt to him like it kept going, and going. His eyes flew open, his eyebrows shot up on his forehead. He felt heat rush to his face, and his ears hummed not letting him hear whatever Kise was laughing about now. As if through a steamy window he saw a blur of Kise that finished the second glass, stood up, and after a few dance-like steps landed on the couch. Midorima caught himself being frozen in the same position, so he flew up to his feet as if to compensate for how much *it* stunned him.
“Kise,” he started, turning around to look at the blond, but it was no use. Kise was asleep. “Kise,” Midorima almost hissed, not knowing why he was so angry. Defeated, he slumped his shoulders, and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Kise was back in his life for literally just one day and it already was being turned upside down. His heart was still thundering in his chest, and he didn’t even know why.
Nothing left for him to do than get ready for bed, and hope Kise wasn’t going to be a noisy sleeper in his current state.
On his way back from the bathroom, dressed in pajamas buttoned all the way up, Midorima looked over Kise again, who was now curled up so as to fit on the rather short couch. Shaking his head, Midorima threw a small blanket over him, telling himself it’s just to ensure Kise doesn’t wake him up with fussiness if he gets cold in the middle of the night.
When Midorima lied down in his bed, his bedroom door firmly shut, the room dark and quiet, he couldn’t help but have the image of Kise’s face right in front of his that he saw before their kiss. Their kiss. How ridiculous! Kise is imposition personified, with no regard for personal space or peace. His life was so much better before Kise emerged…
And as he fell asleep, Midorima knew that he was lying when he thought so. Despite the amount of discomfort he was feeling at the bottom of his chest after tonight, he felt something warm, and pleasant, when he thought about how there was someone beyond his bedroom door. And that it was Kise, of all people. One of his oldest friends.
“Such an idiot…” was his last thought before he succumbed to tiredness, only he didn’t know if it was about Kise, or himself.