Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s every editor’s dream to nurture a writer to the top of their game and produce a book that makes its name across the best seller's list.

It’s a dream Takao lives in and at the same time, he isn’t sure he’s particularly happy about at the moment which was probably due to the tall and monotonous man standing in front of him that he wishes he had enough physical capability to knock down right now. Or a magical bulldozer that would miraculously show up in the apartment building so he could accomplish this.

“I don’t see how difficult it is to understand that I won’t be passing you the manuscript today, Takao,” Midorima says as he adjusts his glasses, his stare as serious as his voice. “Cancers place last on Oha Asa today.”

Takao feels a nerve twitch as he watches the clock on the wall tick by. “You’re a best-selling author who has written more books than I have fingers and you’re telling me you can’t submit your manuscript because Oha Asa says your luck is bad?”

“Exactly,” is Midorima’s curt reply. Takao is close to strangling him with his bare hands and whoever ran Oha Asa. It was just his luck that the golden goose of the company was dominated by a daily horoscope channel that Takao had hoped Midorima would have grown out of as they got older but that clearly wasn’t the case. “Do you not remember my case of bad luck when we couldn’t find a figurine with big eyes?”

Takao shudders as he remembers that weirdly bad day for Midorima until Kuroko had came along and Midorima had decided to use him as his lucky charm for the day, nullifying his bad luck so that he would finally play and win in the match.

Racking his head for a solution that didn’t involve bloodshed, Takao asks, “What’s your lucky item for today? Doesn’t it supposedly nullify your bad luck? If you have it then it should be alright for me to take your manuscript, right?”

“Did you seriously think that I wouldn’t have tried looking for it? Today’s lucky item is an onsen egg keychain.”

“... I swear I’ll never be able to get used to this,” Takao sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think it would be that hard to find a keychain like that?”

“Usually it wouldn’t. However, it seems that because today is a public holiday, most of the shops that I know are currently closed. My luck has rendered me unable to find the proper lucky item of the day.”

“If I find this lucky item of yours then will you please submit in your manuscript by today?”

Midorima’s answer is almost immediate. “Of course. I would see no other reason to delay my work otherwise.”

It’s times like these that Takao wished that he could find the person managing Oha Asa and throttle them for making his life a hundred times worse as he took his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart for purposes he didn’t really want to have to acknowledge.

“Yo, Kise? I was wondering if you could do a little favour for me.”

It takes less than 5 minutes for Kise to call him back with exactly what he’s looking for, thanks to his model connections (and it’s times like these that Takao is glad he keeps an extensive network of friends, even if Midorima happened to know Kise a whole lot longer due to their days as teammates back in middle school) and another 4 hours before Midorima gives him the completed manuscript as Akashi is sending him subtly threatening messages - “Please tell Midorima that the next time he does this, he is personally visiting the printers himself.” - that he manages to get back to the office in time, feet killing him for all the running he’s just had to do.

“I want a pay raise,” Takao moans, muffled by his own arms as he slumps forward on his desk. “I would also like someone else to accommodate to his beliefs in Oha Asa. Basically, someone other than me should take him before I start to become prematurely bald.”

“I don’t think Akashi-kun would allow him to make more than half our work force quit again. It was quite hard to find people who were willing to help so late into the cycle the last time it happened,” Kuroko answers in between typing, the consistent clicking of the keyboard somehow as comforting, like a lullaby made for the sleep-deprived grammar nazis that they were all forced to become as soon as they had stepped into this field of work.

Takao shudders as he remembers those dark times that had loomed upon them like a plague. “I don’t get why it’s always the crazy ones that become the cash cows of this industry. It’s just a good thing that Murasakibara listens to Sei-chan.”

“All you need is to just push him in the right direction, Takao. Midorima might not seem like the person to follow orders but he does listen when required,” Akashi says behind a towering stack of papers on his desk, barely able to be seen.

“That’s easy for you to say. I used to be the one who had to cart him around and pretend I didn’t notice his tsundere tendencies.” Takao sighs. “I demand a pay raise if I have to deal with Shin-chan and his ridiculous demands.”

“Pacifying your author is technically one of your job requirements if you remember right, Takao-kun,” Kuroko says.

Takao persists with the notion of increased wages and of course, everyone ignores him and continues on with their work. Takao wonders if they’d ignore him in the same way if he ever did something like hand in his resignation letter despite the fact that he was on contract with the company for what would be Takao’s equivalent of 5000 years worth of editing slavery.

(He does attempt it once, during an office party where he’s too drunk to tell left from right and Kuroko seems to have multiplied into 5 people, shouting out to his office mates that he would quit the department and find a more suitable job in life where he wouldn’t get kicked around to find lucky items and listen to someone whose life was dictated by the fate of their horoscope.

Akashi merely sips at the glass of whiskey in his hand, unfazed by the whole situation, surprisingly more used to it than anyone due to his years of being captain of the Generation of Miracles and Rakuzan. “Someone please get Takao back to his place tonight. The proofreading stage for the whole department starts tomorrow and I’d rather not have one less source of manual labour dying at the side of the road from a hangover and in a pool of his own vomit.”

“I’m serious about this!” Takao slurs, barely able to lift his head from the table. “I am quitting this company!”

“Takao-kun, please stop shouting. We’re in a public restaurant,” Kuroko says, as passive as ever.

Takao nearly wants to cry. “I hate you people! None of you take me seriously!”

He does, of course, go to work the next day with a mind-splitting headache, the whole incident either totally forgotten or ignored completely by the department.

“You guys suck,” Takao mutters distastefully as he wipes away fake tears and stares at the manuscript on his table while attempting to ignore the stabbing pain in his temples.)

“Hey, is Tetsu there? I need to talk to him.”

Takao looks to his side, Kuroko concentrating intensely as he read through the corrections he had just made. “Aomine is on the phone. He says it’s for you.”

Kuroko doesn’t look up, answering, “Please tell Aomine-kun that the company phone is for work and not to ask me about advice on how to deal with his love life with Kise-kun.”

“The love counsellor is currently busy and does not wish to speak at the moment,” Takao answers towards the receiver, organizing the mess on his desk as he rests the phone in between the crook of his neck. “I would suggest rearranging your consultation times as to avoid a similar situation or just buy those flowers for your model boyfriend that you’ve always been wanting to do.”

He can feel the subtle glare even through the telephone line from Aomine. “I do not want to buy him flowers. It’s not like he isn’t already drowning in them already.”

“Ah, is this a typical case of jealousy? If that’s the case, you should really consider who you call up for your advice, don’t you think so?”

“I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”

Takao feigns a sigh that he’s sure Aomine is just seething at. “And this is why you’re a basketball idiot. Who calls up their ex-boyfriend for advice on their current boyfriend and subtly hang out at his place a lot more than even said ex-boyfriend’s current partner.”

“So you’re saying that Kise is jealous of me hanging out with Tetsu, of all people? Even if Kagami would beat me up if I even looked at him the wrong way?”

“I’m just saying that maybe you should think about it. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Kuroko is glaring daggers at me. Good luck with the makeup sex!” Takao singsongs as he hangs up, despite Aomine’s protests.

“Kuroko, I thought I had told you before to tell Aomine to stop using the company’s line as his own personal counselling service during working hours,” Akashi says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks away from the manuscript he’s currently proofreading in his hands. They can all see the beginnings of stress talking and it’s a clear warning to all of them that Akashi’s mood is only going to get worse from here on out until they were done with the cycle. If one could begin to describe how Akashi was at the end of a cycle, it would probably be him reverting back to how he was before the Winter Cup had taken place.

Kuroko, as usual, is an enigma even to the senses of danger, answering casually as if he were just talking about the weather, “I’ve told him about seven times already. He doesn’t seem to be listening to me whenever I do, though.”

Takao chokes down his laughter. “God, Kise has him so whipped, if only he’d realise it.”

“Kise is just as oblivious as he is about the finer workings of his relationship with Aomine. I’m not particularly pleased about it, seeing as Aomine assumes it’s alright to use our working line to his own expense, especially when we’re this far into the cycle,” Akashi says. “It would really help if they’d just talk to each other about how they felt rather than involving a third party to mediate between them. Relationships involve communication, after all.”

Takao’s tone is slightly teasing. “Since when was Sei-chan such an expert on romance? Is it due to the influx of romance novels we’ve been getting lately? Or have you not been telling the rest of us about the progress of your love life?”

Akashi sighs, somehow managing to look amused even in his resignation. “As much as I would like to allow you some gossip material to spread in the office, I am quite sure that I am married to my work at the moment to a point that being in a committed relationship is out of the question.”

“Wait, did you just pull a joke on me? Hold on, I need to write this down in my planner as a reminder to go buy a lottery number for today.”

“Akashi-kun, Himuro-kun is downstairs with Murasakibara-kun’s manuscript,” Kuroko suddenly speaks up above the chatter, phone resting against the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Akashi excuses himself before leaving, even if he doesn’t have to seeing as he’s practically the head of their department but they’ve all learnt to deal with Akashi’s habit of severe formalities, the same way Aomine calls them for love advice and Kuroko never gets to sit in marketing meetings due to his unnoticable presence which causes them to ignore him whenever he has something to pitch in like his idea on the number of initial copies to order from the printers or the base price of a certain release.

“So how has Kagami been doing?” Takao asks casually as he circles through some minor errors in one of his author’s manuscripts.

“Takao-kun, we’re at work at the moment.”

“It’s not a crime to make light conversation in between work,” Takao presses on, somewhat grateful Kuroko does not have Akashi’s demanding presence that he had never really been able to go against. “Also, your boyfriend is technically work, if you consider it.”

Kagami Taiga, a 27 year old who lead an honest life and wrote children’s books for a living. The only thing that spiced up his life was occasional basketball sessions with Aomine and getting into Kuroko’s pants.

Kuroko subtly glares at the other. “You’re really stubborn, aren’t you, Takao-kun?”

Takao grins. “There’s a reason why I was assigned to Shin-chan, after all. So how is it? Is he better in bed than Aomine? I mean, I wouldn’t consider either of them to be that different, size-wise and all so I guess it’s all a competition of techniques.”

“Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, Takao-kun,” Kuroko says with a slight sigh. “I didn’t start dating Kagami-kun simply because he was good in bed. There is a lot more to consider when you get into a committed relationship with someone.”

“Hmm, but you aren’t denying it,” Takao singsongs with glee. “I mean, for someone’s who seems to be pretty invisible most of the time, you’re stuck in this weirdass love triangle. It’s more amusing than all those nightly dramas my mum used to watch.”

There’s something about the look in Kuroko’s eyes that look murderous despite not showing an inkling of emotion. “I am not in a love triangle. We are all in established romantic relationships that just have a few kinks that need to be ironed out.”

“They say that denial is a show of psychological want,” Takao pokes towards the blue-haired man, who Takao has never seen his composure slip up in the past 7 years they’ve been working together, from rookies all the way to climbing up to the top. “Maybe Kise actually has something to be afraid of after all.”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that Kise-kun is an international model and Aomine-kun and I have explicitly stated that we are fully committed to our own partners,” Kuroko states as Akashi walks back in, manuscript in hand, abruptly ending their conversation.

“It seems that Himuro has invited us all out for dinner. With the rest of our old basketball members,” Akashi tells them, settling back to his desk. “I don’t think Murasakibara and Himuro really have that much space in their house to accommodate several basketball clubs but I have told him that we accept the invitation.”

“Aren’t the people invited allowed to give their own consent?” Takao voices out, unmindful that Akashi is technically his boss while Kuroko continues on with his work, unfazed by the whole ordeal.

“Well, seeing as he invited our old members, it would probably have meant that Kagami would be there so Kuroko would be going too. I also considered the fact that you probably wouldn’t have any plans tonight except with your own bed,” Akashi says jokingly. “Besides, I think we all need a breather away from work for awhile.”

Takao just sighs and scratches the back of his neck. “I still wonder why you’re not running for president or something similar. You’d be a brilliant dictator with your precognition and authority, Sei-chan. I can totally see the headlines, ‘Akashi Seijuuro, The Hitler of Japan’.”

Takao, of course, gets more work shoved onto him for his joke because Akashi isn’t the kind of person who believes in the term ‘abuse of power’ and it’s around 7 when the three of them start dragging themselves off to the cohabitation that belonged to both Murasakibara and Himuro.

It sort of surprises Takao that the two of them have managed to keep up a relationship for so long, considering the fact that Murasakibara’s only motivation to move was really just to munch on the worst sort of snack food he could find, a sloth in human form. It feels like a miracle that Akashi manages to wrangle out a manuscript from him during every deadline.

Himuro, on the other hand, is pretty much the capable kind of guy you’d only find on television shows, a freelance photographer at the side when he wasn’t taking care of Murasakibara and making sure he didn’t eat junk food for the rest of the day.

It felt like a relationship between mother and son than two grown men who were way past their teens. Takao had tried to ask once how it had all began, considering that they had lived as roommates for a couple of years before things had became official but Himuro had just laughed quietly at the question as if he were keeping some sort of secret while Murasakibara continued to ignore him like he usually would.

“Gah, it’s so cold tonight,” Takao proclaims as they continue to walk, his breath condensing the air. “And it isn’t even really winter yet.”

“The seasons are shifting already, so it isn’t surprising for the change in temperature,” Akashi comments, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. He seems to be the most prepared between the three of them, Kuroko donning a flimsy sweater over his t-shirt and Takao slightly more grateful he had opted to wear two layers instead of one that morning.

“It was around this time of the year that we had all played our last Winter Cup together,” Kuroko says, cupping his mouth with his hands in an attempt to warm them up. “It’s been awhile.”

“Out of all of us, I still can’t believe that Kagami isn’t playing in the NBA League with Aomine. Or even Sei-chan. All of us pretty much assumed that you three would be the ones to carry on playing basketball as professionals,” Takao says, watching at Akashi looks up at the darkening sky. “I didn’t expect you of all people to end up landing the same job as me and Kuroko.”

Akashi smiles, looking a bit more like a grin. “I wouldn’t exactly say we ended up in the same job, Takao, seeing as I am somewhat your boss. Well, we all have our reasons, unless this is you trying to tell me that I should quit?”

Takao never really knows when Akashi is being serious or not, relaxed yet always on the edge and he wonders if something will happen if he ends up saying the wrong words. Nonetheless, he shrugs and replies, “You just seem like one of those people who can do more than us normal people can but I guess I’m glad you’re our boss or Shin-chan would never listen to me. He’s a pain in the ass like that.”

They fade back to idle conversation as they walk and approach the apartment, at one of the more upper end parts of the city. Takao’s visited them a couple of times before, when Akashi had been too busy to go collect Murasakibara’s manuscript himself. It’s a spacious apartment that is neat and minimal - probably thanks to Himuro - but surprisingly homey.

When the door opens, they are welcomed by Himuro’s smile and the smell of meat cooking in the kitchen. “Come on in,” Himuro says, stepping aside as they entered. “It seems everyone else are slightly tangled up with work so you guys are one of the first few to arrive.”

Aomine and Kise are already inside, along with a couple of the old Seirin members and Midorima. Takao has to admit, they’re a pretty mismatched gang to be huddled up in one place that it makes him chuckle a little, ignoring Kuroko’s questioning eyes.

“Ah, so did you two kiss and make up?” Takao winks as he slinks his arms over both Aomine and Kise, Aomine on his right and Kise on his left. “This poor idiot was so lovesick over you that he just had to call our office at a busy hour and mention your name in every single sentence he made.”

“Don’t talk shit, you bastard,” Aomine says as he attempts to break Takao’s arm that is wrapped over his shoulders, Takao moving away fast enough to hide behind Kise. “That isn’t what happened at all!”

“Eh, Kise, Ahomine is so scary,” Takao teases from behind Kise and it makes Kise laugh when he sees that slight red tint in Aomine’s features.

“Who said you could call me that, huh?” Aomine lurches forward, blocked by Kise’s torso.

Kise decides to join along with the teasing. “Aominecchi, if you really missed me, you should have just called me yourself, you know. Instead, you ended up calling Takaocchi. You’re so unfair. I bet you asked for Kurokocchi’s help again.”

Aomine’s movements become more frantic as Kise decides to use their position to wrap his arms around Aomine’s waist. “Wha- I did not! Who told you that?”

Kuroko is silently sipping at his hot cup of tea, set down earlier by Himuro during the buzz of their conversation. The rest of the ex-Seirin members who are there - Hyuuga, Kiyoshi, Riko and Izuki - just ignore them as Akashi asks, “Where are the others?”

Hyuuga answers, “Apparently the restaurant Mitobe works at is a little tight on staff at the moment so he’ll be late and Koganei’s shift only ends at 8. If I recalled, they both said they’d meet each other along the way before coming here. The rest aren’t in the Tokyo area at the moment so this was pretty much as much of the gang that we could gather.”

Himuro interjects in between. “Taiga just called me to say he was on his way and as Akashi knows, only Mibuchi-kun is still in Tokyo unlike the rest of his ex-teammates but he said that he’d come. Murasakibara refused to let me call up Okamura and the rest,” and Himuro lets out a slight sigh. “Well, I managed to get a handful of you here so that’s good enough for me.”

“Kasamatsu-senpai is on his way too, since he’s on a break from playing for awhile, like Aominecchi,” Kise adds in, holding Aomine in an awkward position that sort of resembles a wrestling move.

Takao finally settles next to Midorima. “What about our senpai, huh, Shin-chan? I’m pretty sure some of them are in Tokyo.”

“I wasn’t requested to call up anyone and Himuro had intentionally called me so I came alone,” Midorima tells him.

“Mhmm,” Takao hums. “Keep telling yourself that and one day you’ll find yourself old and alone without anyone to keep your tsundere tendencies in check.”

“Speaking of which, where’s Murasakibara? I haven’t seen him since he entered the house,” Kiyoshi asks, refilling his glass with the jug of tea set in front of them. “Is he out?”

Himuro just smiles politely, donned in an apron that suits him a little too well as he answers from the kitchen. “He’s just resting a little in his room. It seems finishing up his work took pulling a bit of an all-nighter so I thought I’d let him sleep until I was done and everyone’s here.”

“Damn, Murasakibara has it good with you, doesn’t he?” Takao sighs, almost sounding envious as the doorbell begins to ring.

“Some soup and leek for a man so sleek,” Izuki tries out just as Kuroko stands up to answer whoever it was at the door.

“Izuki, go choke on your tea,” Hyuuga says almost immediately. “And you,” Hyuuga directs at Kiyoshi, who had attempted to laugh in order to appease the situation. “Don’t laugh at such a shitty pun.”

“Ahh, Hyuuga, you’re really harsh, aren’t you?” Kiyoshi comments, smiling nonchalantly as he scratches the back of his neck. “But I suppose that’s what makes you cute.”

The bickering continues - “Who are you calling cute, you giant?!” - and Kuroko ignores them as he opens the door, a little too short to see who it is from the peephole. Idly, he wonders if Himuro will get complaints from his neighbours from all the noise they’re causing at the moment.

“They’re as noisy as ever, aren’t they? We could hear them from outside,” Kagami says as he takes off his coat, Mibuchi following behind him. “I ran into him along the way”

“You really haven’t grown now, have you?” Mibuchi tells Kuroko as he ruffles his hair, irritating the shorter man slightly. “But I suppose the same could be said to Sei-chan, if he’s the same as the last time I saw him.”

“Please stop that, Mibuchi-kun,” Kuroko says as he swats the other’s hand away. “Everyone else is inside. We’re still expecting around three more people.”

“I’m surprised Himuro managed to invite this many people without the huge giant objecting,” Kagami says as they both step in, letting Mibuchi greet the others as he waited for Kuroko to shut the door at his own pace. “How was work?”

“The same as ever. How has the progress been on your writing, Kagami-kun?”

“I got a decent amount of it done. You’d kick my ass otherwise if I didn’t, wouldn’t you?” Kagami says, the both of them awkwardly standing there, as if waiting for something to happen.

“Finishing work fast gives you time to rest a bit more and gives me less problems, Kagami-kun. You should really attempt to follow your deadlines more often or it’ll really give me problems with the printers.”

“I got it, don’t need to lecture me on it,” Kagami says, suddenly raising his hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Kuroko’s ear, the gesture gentler than something Kagami would have usually done and it makes Kuroko lean into his hand, just a little. “I’ll try to get this one in on time.”

“You guys are really boring, you know that? Is this what they call being totally domesticated by your significant other?”

The comment startles both of them, Kuroko instinctively taking a step away from Kagami as the both of them turned to see Takao leaning against the wall, grinning as he watched them. “The people inside were wondering if the two of you were out here having sex or something but of course, it’s just talk about work. I am really starting to wonder if the two of you have even done it yet.”

“I still don’t get how you’re working with this guy,” Kagami says to Kuroko as they all begin walking back inside. “I mean, he is Midorima’s slave and all but his Hawk Eye did pretty well against you in high school.”

“Kagami-kun, we work in the Editorial Department. I don’t see how Takao-kun would be able to use his Hawk Eye in a situation like this,” Kuroko replies and Takao laughs at Kagami’s question.

“I am not Shin-chan’s slave but really, you and Aomine are in a world of your own. Kuroko, is this your preference in men because I would have to salute you for it,” Takao says in between fits of laughter and Kuroko, for all his seriousness, punches Takao in the ribs before going back to his seat.

“Sei-chan, it’s been so long! You look just the same as ever, don’t you?” Mibuchi almost coos and it looks like some scene out of a comedy movie as the man fawns over Akashi.

Akashi sighs. “Likewise, Mibuchi. For someone working in a professional business, your way of communication sure hasn’t change.”

“Fashion is about expressing oneself, Sei-chan. One must be honest with his feelings and virtues in my line of business.”

“I really wish you would stop calling me ‘Sei-chan’, Mibuchi. It’s been more than five years since we’ve been out of high school,” Akashi says as Mibuchi pouts.

“But Sei-chan is Sei-chan! I couldn’t possibly change anything about that!” Mibuchi proclaims. “And you let Takao-kun use your nickname when he’s known you far less than I have. It’s terribly unfair.”

Akashi sighs yet again, like he’s talking to a child that doesn’t understand whatever he’s trying to say. “You’re the one who got him used to using that nickname on him so it would be your fault that I still have to hear it even now during my working hours.”

Mibuchi and Akashi continue to argue and it’s all laughs and jokes for the next few hours, Kasamatsu, Mitobe and Koganei arriving as soon as everyone had begun digging into their meal. Murasakibara gets woken up by Himuro, of course, and more than half of the food on the table ends up getting used in an eating contest between Yosen’s former centre and Kagami.

“Are you sure either of them possess stomachs and not voids that connect to space?” Mibuchi comments, in both disgust and amazement as they watch the two of them inhale the food before their eyes.

“With all that food they’re eating, they’ll need to clear up some space in space,” Izuki says, another unwanted pun that has even Riko hitting him over the head before any one of them can say anything.

Despite the close battle, Kagami wins and only because Murasakibara immediately attacks the dessert that Himuro had brought out a little too soon.

It’s a talk about the good old times, all of them laughing at times that have already passed, the good and the bad that have lead them up to the present. It’s like a bittersweet reminder, Takao thinks, especially when he sees the slight glimmer of nostalgia in Hyuuga’s eyes as he takes a look at both Riko and Kiyoshi. It’s a short glance but it’s enough to make Takao wonder if he’d ever experience those sort of feelings in the future, being the person that he was and hardly ever settling down.

Time is lost in the midst of conversation and it’s almost close to midnight before everyone starts to leave. Takao stretches his legs from sitting for so long, only Midorima and him left, and decides to head off.

“Well, that was a good meal. Thanks for having us over,” Takao says, winking at Himuro. Murasakibara had already slinked back into his room by the time most of them had left.

“I shall be taking my leave as well. I’ve got some work I need to finish up,” Midorima says as he stands, following Takao as they both exit the apartment.

“I was good to have all of you guys over. Thanks for coming over,” Himuro says, his lips upturned in a slight smile as he closed the door.

“I really don’t get how someone like Murasakibara gets a partner like Himuro,” Takao sighs as the two of them begin walking, Takao briefly wondering if they’d be able to make in on the last train in time. “It almost makes me jealous.”

Midorima adjusts his glasses and says, “Are you referring to the fact that you would like a partner like Himuro or just a relationship in general? Regardless, I’d see no reason to why you would have to be jealous of either. Committed relationships only tie you down and limit various options in your life. A fruitless wish to be shackled by some emotional bond is why so many people out there rise and fall to their demise.”

“You make love sound really depressing, don’t you?” Takao laments, lacings his fingers together and cupping them against the back of his neck. “Hasn’t there ever been a time when you’ve ever felt something for someone?”

“No,” is Midorima’s brief answer.

“I don’t believe you. Have you not even gotten horny looking at pornographic magazines?”

“I have always found people’s fascination towards sexualising the opposite gender as something of completely no use,” Midorima answers and Takao isn’t sure he even wants to ask Midorima if he’s ever masturbathed before for fear that he might have just found an entirely new species on Earth.

“Shin-chan, I think I’ve finally come to a conclusion all these years. You’re a robot programmed from the future, aren’t you? Because that is the only way I’d believe you’ve never felt any attraction towards the opposite sex but I guess it does make sense why you never dated any of those girls who confessed to you in high school,” Takao says, thinking back to their times as teenagers, Midorima’s sullenness unchanging through the years. “Is that how you managed those three-pointers so well and still have a talent at writing?”

“Think what you want. Those who cannot preserve are the ones who are bound to fall.” The air between them feels slightly different as Midorima answers, like there’s more to those words than he’s letting on.

“Preserve, huh?” Takao mutters to himself, pondering. “I suppose you could be right about something for once. Somehow, talking about this seems depressing. Ah, I really wish I could have a nice hot cup of coffee at the moment.”

Midorima sighs, pushing up his glasses again in habit, his long fingers still taped despite the fact that he wasn’t playing basketball anymore, though Takao knew he still did a few hoops whenever he had spare time and needed to think when he had passed by the empty court near the other’s housing area on a random day. “I see your priorities since high school still haven’t gotten any better. It’s a wonder that Akashi manages to work with you.”

Takao grins confidently. “You say that but even then, we were a great pair, weren’t we?”

“We were teammates. It’s not like I had a choice to say in that matter.”

“Shin-chan, you’re so-”

“But,” Midorima continues, in such a passive voice that Takao can’t tell just how Midorima’s feeling right now. “I never regretted playing with any one of you.”

The rest of their walk is silent, even with Takao’s minor complaints about the distance at the side and it doesn’t really surprise the both of them when they miss the last train by a gap of 30 minutes. Takao isn’t sure he has enough fare for a cab and his place isn’t exactly a 15 minute walk away by foot unlike Midorima’s so Midorima sighs and gives in to Takao staying over for the night.

It isn’t exactly a prepared trip so Takao has to take most of his things from Midorima, shirt and boxers a little too big around his body and waist and Midorima kicks him out to sleep on his couch - “I refuse to share a bed with you,” Midorima states as he kicks Takao out of his futon. “You take up too much space.” - after Takao manages to wrangle off an extra pillow and blanket from him.

Takao wonders if it’s due to the party or the fact that they’re already in the middle of the cycle that he finds himself falling asleep faster than he usually does. He wonders if Midorima feels the same way, just a few meters away from him behind a closed door. Even after all the years they’ve spent and how much Takao thinks he knows Midorima, there’s still a part of him that thinks there’s more beneath the surface than he probably notices.

He has a dreamless sleep that night, one of the best he’s had in ages only to get woken up by a book getting tossed to his face and Midorima’s passive expression.

“You’ll be late to work if you decide to sleep in,” is all Midorima says as he slinks back into his room, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. “Go back to your own place.”

In retaliation for the book to his face, Takao stays those few extra hours at Midorima’s place, making as much noise as possible that Midorima looks like he’s about to bury Takao alive. He ends up going to work in whatever he wore yesterday, late enough despite rushing that Akashi catches him by the collar and gives him a severe talk about ‘higher authority and punctuality’.

It isn’t one of the best ways to start the morning, with Akashi’s voice lingering in the background and a stack of corrections that need revising but somehow, it makes Takao smile with something akin to home burning in his chest.

“Stop smiling so much, Takao-kun. You look creepy,” Kuroko comments during their coffee break. “It’s like you’ve broken a switch inside yourself or something.”

It’s four months after the party, of casual greetings and work-related discussions before Takao hears the most unexpected words from Midorima himself.

“What do you think love feels like?”

Takao is grateful he had enough time to swallow at the mouthful of caffeine he had just consumed or it would have probably splattered all over Midorima’s draft due to shock. Was he hearing this right?

“What’s with this sudden question? Did you find someone you actually liked?” Takao asks, thinking back to their conversation about infatuation and Midorima’s lack of enthusiasm then. “Or have you been hiding this person from me because you’re too tsundere to tell anyone?”

Takao thinks he sees a nerve twitch and he wonders idly if Midorima is thinking about stabbing him with the pen in his hand.

“It was just curiosity seeing as I bumped into Kagami and Kuroko the other day while they were at the convenience store since I needed to get a few things. Since we weren’t all in a work-related environment, those two seemed more relaxed but it didn’t seem as if there was anything different from the way the two of them were acting then as compared to when we were all still in high school so I wanted to know what was the difference between then and now.”

“Well,” Takao ponders, setting down the papers in his hands. “I guess it’s because those two are already pretty comfortable with each other that acting in any other way would be awkward? I don’t really know it myself but from what I’ve seen, it’s more of a sense of security than anything. Sometimes having it as a title and making it something definite shows that you’re serious, I suppose. That’s what my sister said to me once before she got married.”

“I see,” Midorima says, voice wandering slightly as if he were trying to process what he had just been told.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day that Shin-chan would ask me for advice on love,” Takao grins, leaning back against the edge of the couch. “Even if I’m not much of an expert in that area myself.”

It makes him sigh a little as he thinks back towards his lack of a dating life, basketball being a commitment that took up most of his time as a teen. He didn’t regret the sacrifices he had to make because of it but there were some thing he had wondered about and how they would have played out differently if he had given himself more freedom. That, and the fact that his family were honestly curious to when he’d finally find someone serious enough to settle down with and start a family of his own.

“So if what I think is right, you’re saying love is when you feel the other person is a security blanket?” Midorima asks, his sudden inquisitive attitude like a child on his first day of school. “Would you define it as an emotional security or a financial one? A generalised version of the term seems a little too broad.”

“And this is why I’m somewhat glad no girl has ever dated you,” Takao says as he nudges Midorima who is sitting on the floor with his foot. “Falling in love isn’t something you can put into words. It sort of just, I don’t know, feels right?”

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone before then?” Midorima asks him.

“Hmm, I guess I have once, in middle school,” Takao replies, lifting up his coffee cup and taking a sip as he palmed it in his hands for warmth. “But I suppose it was more of an unrequited love or admiration for the person instead.”

“And how did you realise that you had some sort of attachment for her?”

“Like I said, it’s not like I can really put it into words,” Takao says, trying to recall back to those bittersweet times. “The both of us studied in the same year and class but I didn’t really notice her until our second year. She was kind of like Kuroko, in a way. She didn’t stand out when she didn’t have to but I still remember that time when some dude was bullying a few other kids and she stepped up for them, despite being dwarfed by him. I kind of watched the whole thing happened and just as he was about to do something to her and I was going to step in myself, she ended up fracturing his arm the moment it hit her shoulder.”

Takao laughs. “It sort of looked like a scene in one of those action movies and it honestly scared me for awhile, more for my safety than anything but at the same time, it made me more aware towards whatever she did, the way she didn’t try to garner attention for herself but helped people even if they didn’t remember her. After some time as I continued to watch from afar, it sort of just hit me that I wanted to make sure she didn’t get herself into too much trouble, even if she could definitely handle fights better than me. And that’s when I knew.”

Takao wonders how much Midorima is actually listening to, an unreadable expression on the other’s face. “And well, that’s the story of how I ended up pinning for a girl I never even confessed to during my middle school years. I guess I do regret it a little that I didn’t end up getting her number after we all graduated but it’s not like I can do anything about it now. Lame story, isn’t it?”

It’s a few moments of pin drop silence between them before Midorima speaks up. “Did you find her to be someone who appealed to your ideals?”

Takao blinks, like he’s uncertain just what Midorima is trying to ask. “Sometimes, I wish you’d speak in more understandable sentences. ‘Appealed to your ideals’ sounds like something even my dad wouldn’t say.”

He expects Midorima to snap back at him for not being able to understand but instead, he rephrases his question, like he’s biting down his tongue for an answer. “Was she your definition of what most people would consider attractive?”

The laughter bubbles out of him before Takao can stop it, wiping away at the slight tears that were welling up at the corners of his eyes “I’m sorry, you can go back to saying things your way, Shin-chan. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“Just forget I even asked the question,” Midorima says, half-looking like he wants to both bury Takao alive or do the same to himself at the same time.

“Come on, it was cute, Shin-chan! I feel like you’re finally growing up to understand being human a little more and less of a humanoid robot,” Takao comments as he settles down. “She was pretty, in a sense. I mean, like I said, she didn’t really stand out but it wasn’t as if she was ugly. It was more like her appearance didn’t really speak up for her personality. I mean, she was 5’1” and she disabled a guy more than twice her size. If I was only looking at her for how she looked then I’m pretty sure I would have ran away at the fact that she could pretty much bust my balls if I got on her bad side.”

Midorima looks contemplative as Takao asks, “Well, I should probably thank Kagami and Kuroko for letting me experience getting asked advice from Shin-chan himself from the last topic I would ever consider you getting serious about.”

“Hmph. Just because I’m curious about it doesn’t mean that I’m serious about it myself. Like I said, it was their interaction that intrigued me seeing as it was nothing different from the norm.”

Takao sighs, in mock defeat. “Yes, yes, Shin-chan. I mustn't forget the fact that your home planet is somewhere on Mars.”

“Please stop stating that I live in places that have been scientifically proven to be unable to host any forms of life,” Midorima says as he goes back to writing. “We’ve got work to do and I’d rather be able to complete the manuscript in time before my break starts.”

“You were the one who was asking questions,” Takao pokes at him even as he puts down his cup and continues with his work. Midorima might not be the most easiest person to manage but Takao was at least grateful of the fact that he was, for the most part, punctual about his deadlines as long as Oha Asa’s daily morning horoscope was working in his favour.

The hours tick by, with a few cups of coffee and an aching back from hunching forward as he reviewed the draft in front of him. Midorima is almost mechanical, rarely moving from his spot as he continues typing like there are no breaks in between his thoughts.

Takao looks at the clock. It’s 5PM, according to the clock on the wall and Takao begins the stretch his limbs as he asks, “Hey, Shin-chan, want to play some ball?”

“We’re in the middle of work,” Midorima replies almost instantly, eyes still focused onto his laptop’s screen.

“A few hoops wouldn’t hurt anyone now, would they? And besides, getting cooped up inside for so long will make you dull. You and I need a breather from work to enjoy what life has to offer,” Takao says in a grand gesture and Midorima only looks up once to give him the stink eye.

“Playing basketball has nothing to do with the parts of the brain that are used for writing. It might be the case if I were writing a basketball manga or something similar but I do not see in what way playing basketball in the evening will even prove to be a benefit to me.”

“Shin-chan, you’re such a downer,” Takao says and without warning, shuts close the screen of Midorima’s laptop, almost catching the other’s fingers between the keyboard and screen in the process as he gets glared at. “This is exactly why you need a break. Besides, you’re ahead of schedule, aren’t you? Taking a few hours off work won’t hinder you from finishing before the deadline.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that there are people out there who don’t have your tendencies to slack off on a job?” Midorima says, sighing in resignation as he stands and stretches his legs from the stiffness that had accumulated during the long hours of sitting in the same position. “I still don’t understand why Akashi had decided on you to be my editor-in-charge to begin with.”

“Say that after you stop making ridiculous demands that nearly caused more than half our editors to quit after three months,” Takao tells him with a scoff. “It’s because of that that I’m stuck with you even after high school. Well, at least it isn’t that much different from before.”

They’re a conventional pair, stuck in a way that Takao has resigned himself to defeat of ever trying to get away from, just like Kagami and Kuroko as Seirin’s previous ‘light and shadow’. And like both light and shadow, all Takao can do is follow along and use Midorima’s glory as his own stepping stone towards success.

“And even now, I’m still envious of you,” Takao mutters beneath his breath, tone tinged with both fondness and spite.

“Huh, did you say something?” Midorima asks.

Takao grins, teeth showing. “It’s nothing.”

So is this what it feels like to be utterly defeated?

The fatigue hits Takao’s body the moment the buzzer rings, signaling the end of their game. He’s sure his knees would have collapsed on themselves if his pride wasn’t the only thing that was keeping him from breaking at even the more than 10 point gap that Teikou Middle School had managed to rack.

“Well, that’s what we get for trying to take on monsters, I guess,” Takao heaves in between deep breaths, hands clutching at his knees as he tries to stand up straight.

We’ve got to bow in respect, after all. Like all good team players.

The sullen-looking guy who had made the last shot in the game despite not even needing to due to their point different looks so much more composed that he does, that shock of green hair that differentiated him from the rest of them somehow irritating Takao.

“Takao, we’ve got to line up,” one of his teammates tells him, putting a consoling hand on his back, knowing exactly how he’s feeling. “Come on.”

“Yeah, I know.” I know that, so move, my goddamn legs.

As he pathetically attempts to move into the slowly forming line, Takao can’t help but think that he’s starting to look like the sort of sore loser that he’s always disliked. He knows he’s lost but there’s a huge part of him that’s screaming for a rematch, or to be graced with enough skill to match the monsters they had just played with to steal back at least a point in a game where he couldn’t even hold the ball once for the last three quarters.

The guy who’s in front of him in the line has sharp-looking eyes, heterochromatic in colour that Takao is sure he would have noticed more if the defeat wasn’t weighing on him like invisible chains wrapped around his limbs. Takao idly notices that for a point guard, he seems to carry an aura that demands attention, something people in this position aren’t known for. He extends his hand in a
firm handshake, trying not to crumble while his face can still be seen.

(It’s a couple of years later when Takao finds out that he should have paid more attention towards the leader of the Generation of Miracles, Akashi Seijuuro, during their 1st year the Winter Cup.)

At the corner of his eye, he can see Green Hair walking back to the bench. It isn’t like him to take so much notice in a person who had only shot three-pointers throughout the entire game, something that wasn’t particularly his own strongest suit, despite the fact that he made up for it in different ways.

However, it was the expression on his face the entire time, a mix of boredom and yet total belief that he wouldn’t miss a shot that didn’t cause a crack in his facade that made and break him both on the inside.

As he watches some of his teammates pat him on the back enthusiastically, calling him out almost endearingly with the nickname ‘Midorimacchi,’ Takao feels some sort of resolve grow inside of him.

Midorima Shintarou. I’ll beat you one day, I promise.

When Midorima invites Takao out on a random movie date when submitting his manuscript one week before his deadline, Takao merely agrees without any sort of hesitation as he skims through it to make sure that he’s got everything.

“Somehow, your lack of contemplation before confirmation is slightly unnerving. Do you always accept any invite that gets handed out to you with that little thought?” Midorima asks as he watches Takao who is intent on the task at hand, Midorima himself nursing a cup of coffee and the tell-tale signs of late night writing in the form of eye bags rimming beneath his eyes.

“Well, who’s going to say no to an offer of free food and movie tickets? I don’t really see anything weird about the whole situation either,” Takao answers idly, flipping through the last few pages before rearranging them back properly and placing them in his work bag. “Anyway, your manuscript looks fine for now so I’ll just bring it back to the office for more detailed reading and contact you if any corrections need to be done.”

“Understood.”

As soon as Midorima replies, Takao lets out a loud sigh before slumping back on the other’s couch. “God, I’m so tired. Shin-chan, would you pretty please mind giving me a cup of coffee too?”

Midorima sighs. “You lack so much tack that it’s a wonder you’re actually working under Akashi,” he comments from the kitchen as he fills a mug with the murky brown liquid that had just been made by what Takao had just recently dubbed his ‘God-like Keurig coffee maker’ ever since Midorima had decided to replace his old coffee machine with a new one.

“Unlike you, Sei-chan has a much better sense of humour and doesn’t rely on Oha Asa to get his work done. Although, I do suppose Oha Asa does has its good days in motivating you to finish up faster.”

Midorima passes Takao the mug as he takes a seat next to him, watching as Takao takes a hearty gulp at the Heaven that was currently rested in between his palms, a content expression on his face as his whole body relaxes and sinks into the couch. “This coffee is made from the Heavens above by the Almighty Coffee God. Now all I’d need is a nice shoulder massage and this would be perfect. So, why the sudden invitation out to watch a movie? Shouldn’t this be something you bring a girl to rather than your editor?”

All Takao gets is a shrug and a simple, “Knowing how everyone else has plans for the weekend, I merely assumed your schedule would be void of any particular plans and it would be a waste just to toss a pair of free tickets.”

“Yeah, but these are tickets to a romcom and going for this as two males just feels a little weird. Also, what did you sign up for to get such a romantic freebie anyway?”

“It was for the Women’s Weekly’s latest issue. Seems that buying that particular copy automatically certifies you for their lucky draw for free movie tickets to what seems to be the ‘Number One romantic movie that all girls want their lovers to bring them to.’ It was Oha Asa’s lucky item for Cancer,” Midorima answers almost too casually and Takao can’t stop the laughter that bubbles from inside of him.

“You bought,” Takao attempts to speak in between bouts of laughter that he can’t stop. “The latest edition of the Women’s Weekly because of your horoscope? Oh god, this is the best laugh I have had in weeks. Do you think you could take it out right now and stand with it so I can take a picture and send it to the rest of the office?”

The expression on Midorima’s face is anything but amused and it takes Takao a couple of minutes to regain his composure from his laughing fit, wiping away an imaginary trail of tears. “Okay, maybe it’s a bit more understandable now why you invited me. Still, you could have donated them to one of the happy couples.”

“Why would I waste a free gift on any of them? Besides, it’ll be free research material for my story.”

“You’re still unhappy with the comment Akashi made on your main character’s relationship, aren’t you?” Takao comments, a slight tinge of amusement in his voice as Midorima’s eyebrows furrow in displeasure. “Well, even I will admit that writing romance isn’t your forte and this might be good exposure. However, this.” Takao makes a gesture towards the both of them. “Is exactly why I think any efforts to improve it are just going to backfire on you.”

“I don’t get exactly what you’re trying to say,” Midorima says, sipping at his lukewarm coffee. “How is anything between you and me going to stump my efforts at writing a romantic relationship between fictional characters?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you think two grown men watching a romantic movie together in a theatre that will probably be filled with couples is completely normal,” Takao comments with heavy sarcasm in between his words that he knows Midorima will never be able to pick up on due to some genetic glitch inside of him. It’s not like his family is the same, with Takao having made occasional visits over to his house before when they were both still in high school, his mom the average housewife while his dad was quite a pleasant person to talk to, as far as he could remember. Clearly this recessive gene had skipped quite a few generations in Midorima’s family, as far as Takao himself could tell.

There isn’t even a dent in his facial features or any sort of sign that Midorima comprehends the implications of Takao’s words. “Your way of reasoning seems to be quite faulted, Takao. Isn’t it normal enough for two male companions to watch a movie together regardless of its genre?”

“Shin-chan,” Takao says, eyes serious as he leans closer to Midorima in a faux attempt at intimidation. It doesn’t really work, of course, based on the expression on Midorima’s face who barely even flinches. “Do you know what is in trend with most teenage girls lately?”

“I am not familiar with the female population in terms of their likes and dislikes, I suppose,” Midorima says, looking slightly agitated at being asked such a question, Takao knowing fully well that Midorima’s interaction with the opposite gender was quite limited.

“Then let me tell you. Lately, it seems that I’ve found out through a couple of sources and the internet that there seems to be an increasing trend in what is mildly dubbed as ‘BL’.”

“Takao, just get to the point.”

Takao sighs, an unneeded and exaggerated gesture that he knows will tick Midorima off even more. Blame the guy for being so oblivious to the outside world when it involved trends and real interaction. Takao felt like he had saved up enough karma points to poke fun at Midorima’s lack of knowledge in these areas at times. “Have you ever heard of the term ‘yaoi’?”

It takes a few moments before something clicks in Midorima’s head, knowing just that much, and he watches the taller man become slightly flustered as he pushes up his glasses that are sliding down the rim of his nose, attempting to hide the tint of red on his cheeks. “And what would this ‘BL’ have anything to do with that?”

“Well, it’s basically the same thing, you see. And since girls seem to be so into this stuff lately, I’m very sure that the two of us going for a movie together in the midst of other couples will just, well, fuel the imagination of any onlookers who notice,” Takao tells him, nonchalance contrasting against Midorima’s reaction. “I mean, sure, I wouldn’t mind since it’s a pair of free movie tickets and all-”

“Just forget about the movie,” Midorima says almost immediately before Takao can continue and Takao himself can’t help but cackle inwardly at the redness that has crept up on Midorima’s face up to the tips of his ears. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“Are you sure, Shin-chan? I mean, it’s no big deal. People get misconceptions all the times and it’s not like anyone we know will be there.” Takao’s tone is teasing.

Midorima just glares at him, which isn’t as effective as it usually is considering the blush but Takao lets it go for today, feeling strangely accomplished.

He does, however, relay the whole situation to Kuroko that night itself when they go out for dinner and a couple of drinks after work, slightly tipsy from the alcohol and lack of sleep.

Kuroko just sighs when he’s done, giving him a look of pity and resignation - or at least, that is what Takao thinks it is, having tried to read Kuroko’s lack of facial expressions for years - as he says, “You’re a terrible person, aren’t you, Takao-kun.”

It’s a statement that makes Takao stick his tongue out in his drunken stupor. “It’s not my fault that Shin-chan is just so easy to tease.”

Kuroko’s next words come out almost as a whisper, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “That’s not really what I meant.”

“Hmm?” Takao asks, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Sorry, I couldn’t really hear you over the noise. It isn’t exactly that quiet here.”

“It’s nothing,” the blue-haired man tells him, voice suddenly sounding far away in Takao’s head. “Besides, I should be the last person to tell you what to do in your life when it comes to stuff like this.”

Takao feels his mind slowly drifting off to sleep, his answer barely passing out of his lips with heavily slurred syllables. “What do you mean? What is ‘stuff like this’?”

Kuroko doesn’t answer and Takao can’t find it within himself to open his eyes as he is lured into unconsciousness, right there in a crowded restaurant, oblivious towards the world.

“Do I even want to know why you’re here?” Takao asks the man sprawled over his couch, chest heaving in exhaustion. Takao grimaced at the thought of having to wash the couch covers again as he looked at how much the other was perspiring over his recently washed cushions, seeing as he was rarely at home enough to clean except for the first week and a half into the cycle.

“Sorry, Takao. I needed to get away from someone at the moment and I figured that this was the last place they would think of finding me,” Hyuuga says, a look of exhaustion on his face. “God, I’m not as fit as I used to be. I’m pretty sure Riko used to make us run more than this.”

“Where did you even come here from?’

“Huh?” Hyuuga says absentmindedly as Takao takes a seat beside him, careful to keep those few inches away as he had just stepped out of the shower himself. “Somewhere near the Maji Burger place we used to frequent back in high school.”

“Jesus, she must have been a demon then,” Takao mutters, knowing that walking on foot from there to his house takes about nearly an hour. Then again, Aida Riko’s skills as both a slavedriver and a coach were pretty much renowned in the sports industry after she had graduated and decided to become the coach of Japan’s national men’s team, a far bigger accomplishment than most of them had even succeeded with.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Takao clears his throat. “But back to the main point about you being here. I don’t really have to guess who you’re avoiding and while I don’t really mind you using my place as a hideout, are you sure you want to be hiding away from Kiyoshi like this?”

“I’ll go back once that big oaf learns to stop messing with me whenever he can,” Hyuuga tells him and Takao doesn’t miss the dark look in the former shooting guard’s eyes. “Seriously, that idiot still thinks the same way he did in high school, saying stuff like that with that damn smile on his face.”

Again, this is something that Takao can basically guess about but doesn’t really want to ask, not with the way Hyuuga looks like he wants to punch someone. He may have been daring enough to try it during his schooling days, when curiousity would get the better of him always but not when he’s almost out of the mid 20’s range, barely able to juggle his sleep and working hours as efficiently as he would like to. Basketball and teenage hormones are days of the past that he doesn’t have the ability to re-live, as much as nostalgia will hit at the most unexpected times.

Besides, he isn’t necessarily unhappy with how things have ended up. He rakes in a decent income to sustain his simple lifestyle in a job that he sort of enjoys despite its fallouts, still keeps in contact with most of his old classmates and friends and feeds his occasional basketball urges by visiting the nearby court around twice a month with Midorima or a couple of the others whenever he has the time.

There’s a sort of blanketed silence between the both of them for a couple of minutes and Takao is contemplating whether he should go and offer to get Hyuuga a drink - not that he has anything besides water since he had finished the last of his coffee just this morning - before the other suddenly speaks up and asks, “Have you ever thought about what it would be like to marry someone?”

“Is this coming from somewhere specific?” Takao asks, slightly teasing due to his nature. He continues before Hyuuga can deal him any bodily harm. “Jokes and obvious questions aside, I suppose my parents have been subtly trying to pressure me to find someone to date and possibly settle down with while I still can, since no one will want me by the time I hit 30, apparently. But really, I’ve never really imagined how it would be like to be married or tied to someone long-term.”

Hyuuga tries to get back at him for his earlier comment. “There’s Midorima.”

“Shin-chan doesn’t count. Someone’s got to take care of him and his terrible way of communicating how he truly feels about things,” Takao tells him, stretching out a little on the couch to get himself comfortable. “Due to Sei-chan and work, he’s become sort of like a growth that I can’t get rid of ever since high school.”

He recognises the fact that there’s more of an underlying affection rather than spite in his tone but he already knows these are his honest feelings, ever since he had realised that straight-faced man who had beat him in his middle school days only to become his teammate for the rest of his high school life was one of the hardest working people he would ever meet. Not that he would have told him until the day of his death, of course. People like Midorima didn’t need positive reaffirmation when they believed in themselves in enough to never falter under the pressure.

“I wish that were the same case for me,” Hyuuga says, almost resigned as he takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes, I don’t understand how things between me and him even happened.”

“His yaoi hands?” Takao tries to suggest helpfully. His sentiment is not appreciated as Hyuuga just stares at him with a look akin to ire and Takao shrugs as he puts his hands up in the air in defeat. “What, there are girls in my office that work on that sort of stuff. It’s a part of my job to be up-to-date with what the different group of readers like and there are certain writers that write this stuff under a pen name for the sake of discretion.”

“I’d rather not have to associate my love life with some badly fantasized romance story in between two guys for the sake of the female population. But then again, I suppose it’s bad enough if you get proposed to in the middle of lunch over a discussion of finances and your mother calls you at that exact moment to set you up on blind date because she doesn’t know you’re dating your old classmate.”

“Wow,” Takao comments, amazed with no hint of malice. “Your life sounds like some sort of serial drama.”

Hyuuga continues, irritation showing in his voice and features. “And that idiot had the gall to just sit there and smile at me after saying that while I was trying to pacify my mother through the phone.”

“And that’s how you ended up here?”

“Somewhat, yeah.”

Takao tries to find the right words to phrase his next question. “So, are the rest of us going to see you tying the knot anytime soon?”

“What is the point of two guys even getting married?” Hyuuga asks, sighing as his shoulder slump. “We’re already living together anyway and it’s not like we aren’t already married in some sort of sense, as much as I hate to admit it. Besides, an actual marriage between us is impossible considering the fact that we’re both guys.”

“But do you want it?” Takao doesn’t even know why he’s asking anymore but there’s a part of him that feels that he should as much as he wants to ignore it, if only for Hyuuga’s sake.

Hyuuga contemplates it for a few moments, brows furrowed in concentration. “I suppose, it would be nice, in a way. There was a point in time where I felt like getting a decent job, settling down somewhere nice and getting married to someone I loved was my version of an ideal life. Sure, the situation might be a little different than when I had imagined it then but I guess it’s essentially the same thing. However, I realised that I don’t really need marriage anymore for it to happen.”

Takao wants to ask exactly what that’s suppose to mean when a ringtone suddenly goes off, an unfamiliar tone that Takao knows is Hyuuga’s as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tongue clicking in annoyance as he looks at the caller ID before answering.

“What is it?” Hyuuga asks, bite in his voice.

There’s a muffled reply that comes out that Takao can’t quite make out from the other side as Hyuuga answers back, “How am I supposed to reply when you ask me that sort of thing while I’m talking to my mother and we’re in a fast food joint, you idiot!”

Kiyoshi probably answers with something embarrassing, Takao thinks as he watches the way Hyuuga’s face suddenly reddens and he stammers out, “S-Shut up! Do you not have some sort of filter when you’re spewing lines like that?”

Hyuuga’s reactions get increasingly comical as the phone call prolongs and he takes his leave as soon as he’s done, thanking Takao for allowing him over.

Takao grins. “Don’t worry about it. Go back to your BL novel life and Kiyoshi’s yaoi hands.”

“My life is not some written gay novel!” Hyuuga shouts with no real bite. “One day, something like this is going to happen to you and I’m going to get back at you with your own words.”

“I’ll look forward to the day you do, then.” A goodbye of sorts, when Hyuuga gives a last wave before leaving and Takao closes the door shut.

The funny thing is, Takao thinks idly as he steps back into the living room, that there’s a part of him that can’t tell whether he really means it or not.

The wedding card that is dropped into Takao’s mailbox almost a week after Hyuuga’s visit is from an old basketball senior during his highschool days and is apparently being held at the bride’s hometown. Takao just stares at it as he sits cross legged on the floor next to his coffee table, wondering how Kiyoshi had handled Hyuuga after he had gone back that day.

It’s a fleeting thought that he tries not to think about too much, at least until he finds himself forced to use one of his free days during the weekdays to help Midorima people watch to ‘better understand how human relationships work’ because Midorima is nothing but stubborn when it comes to proving that he can accomplish something, especially when instigated by the former captain of the Generation of Miracles that Takao feels that this is probably how Akashi had manipulated the other in the past back in their middle school days. They’re in quite a well-frequented mall, the large density of the crowd proving it. Takao isn’t really that surprised when they spot Kuroko and Kagami from a distance and he almost immediately drags Midorima away before they are noticed, knowing just how much Midorima usually stood out in public despite his best efforts not to.

“What are you doing, Takao,” Midorima asks him straight out when Takao stops them behind a large, potted plant, the leaves resembling the colour of the ridiculous green that was Midorima’s hair. “We’re suppose to be people spotting today.”

“I just saw Kuroko and Kagami. It looks like them on a date.” And before Midorima can reply, he continues. “Your people spotting was failing anyway.”

“It was definitely not failing,” Midorima says, firm and slightly irritated at the assessment.

“Your notes were basically just a description of what they were wearing and their hairstyles. If that was all you wanted, a modelling catalogue would have been a better choice.”

“Clothing choices is a very important aspect in character building,” Midorima proclaims firmly. “Fine feathers make fine birds.”

“Then you’re just looking at it from a superficial aspect,” Takao tells him, quoting the exact words that Akashi had mentioned just a week before which makes Midorima look mildly displeased. “If you want to figure out how relationships work, the best thing would be to observe an actual one.”

He watches the conflict that crosses through his eyes for a brief moment before sighing and pushing his glasses closer up the bridge of his nose. “If we must observe people then I’d prefer a proper couple that fits within the boundaries of social norms.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Takao tells Midorima while still keeping an eye on the clueless couple. “At least if we get caught following them, they aren’t going to call the cops on us.”

It feels almost like a miracle when Midorima allows himself to get dragged along by Takao and they catch up behind the two of them in no time. It’s one of those times that Takao was grateful for his Hawk Eye and its ability to spot those two in the crowd, especially Kuroko.

They don’t wander much, mostly between sports equipment stores and the occasional stop for food. It’s fairly typical stuff that Takao is pretty sure that Midorima is glaring holes into his skull at him for.

By the end of the day, they decide to leave the couple alone when Kagami is busy stuffing his face with his entire body mass in burgers while Kuroko casually sips on his vanilla milkshake. The two of them are creatures of habit but Takao can’t comment because he knows he’s one too.

“Well, I don’t think that was really successful. We just ended up finding out about stuff that we already know,” Takao says, sighing as they start to make their way to Midorima’s car. The carpark is silent in contrast to the bustling of the mall.

Midorima shrugs. “Not really. There were moments, I guess.”

“Moments? What do you mean by that?”

“The small things, like the head pats. Kagami leaning closer into Kuroko when they pass big groups of people because he knows that he’ll lose sight of him easier. Stuff like that.”

Takao almost chokes, nodding like he’s impressed. “Wow, Shin-chan. I didn’t think that you would have actually paid attention to things like that.”

It takes them awhile to find Midorima’s car, simply because the other was clearly refusing to admit that he did not remember where he had parked when they had first arrived or bothered to note it down.

The look in Midorima’s eyes is unreadable. “Of course I would. I’m a writer. I should be able to read people.”

The snicker almost bubbles over from Takao’s lips, tone teasing. “Then what about me? Can you read me?”

“On good days,” is Midorima’s almost enigmatic reply as he takes his place in the driver’s seat. “I’m driving.”

Takao cocks his head to the side, a little confused. “Eh, but don’t you hate driving?”

“I just feel like driving today so I’ll drop you back to your place first before I head back to mine.”

Takao doesn’t really understand but there’s an almost palpable silence between them during the car ride back that he waits until Midorima has dropped him right in front of his apartment building to say the words, “Bye and thanks for dropping me off. I’ll see you tomorrow, Shin-chan.”

“See you.”

Those two words seem to hang around long after Takao watches Midorima’s car take a left turn and disappear from his view.

“Shin-chan, what exactly are you trying to do?” Takao asks at the awkward way that Midorima’s back is hunched forward with his face just a couple of inches away from his own, the glint of the other’s glasses slightly blinding him as he looks up.

Midorima immediately pulls back, pushing up the rim of his glasses as he clears his throat. “It’s nothing, I was just uncomfortable and trying to stretch, that’s all.” There is some sort of lingering disappointment when Midorima utters those words.

“That’s such a weird way to stretch,” Takao laughs, leaning back against the couch as he rests his eyes from the manuscript in his hand.

It almost felt like you were aiming for a kiss.

The words don’t pass Takao’s lips. It’s just a dumb passing thought.

“I think I have feelings for you, Takao.”

The sentence makes Takao blink. “I know you have feelings of irritation for me most of the time.”

“I don’t mean it like that. I say feelings as in, I think I might like you in the romantic sense. Or that, I know I do. It’s not me ‘thinking’ about it anymore.”

“Do you know what you’re saying right now?” Takao asks. “Shin-chan, are you very sure you understand what you’re saying to me right now? Have you been drinking?”

Midorima lets out a sigh, and pushes up his glasses. “I’ve been here with you doing work for hours. We both know I haven’t been drinking. I am serious about what I’m saying to you right now.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Awkward silence permeates between the two of them and Takao wonders if that might not have been the right thing to say. But then again, it isn’t like a simple ‘Oh’ wasn’t already enough of an understatement of a reaction to his best friend telling him that he was, no, is in love with him.

“Um, why me?”

Takao wants to bash his head against the wall as soon as he asks the question. It’s not the most intelligent response but in hindsight, his brain is probably still trying to recover from the randomness of the situation.

There’s an exasperated sigh from Midorima as he takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s trying to avoid the headache that comes from the idiocy of Takao’s question. “You ask that question like you can’t believe that anyone could possibly have feelings for you.”

“Well,” Takao ponders for awhile, deep in thought. “I’m a guy. You’re a guy. We’ve known each other for years. I’m practically like your mother at times. Who even has romantic feelings for their mother?”

“You’re not my mother. I know who my mother is. And most of our friends are gay so what’s your point? I’ve had these feelings for a long time and haven’t really considered them until recently but I know that I love you.”

“Oh.”

Takao takes the next two weeks off work. Akashi takes one look at his face and grants him permission.

“We’ve just finished the cycle anyway so we’ll be fine,” is all he says when Takao thanks him for it.

Work is his only distraction, Takao realises as he leans his head against his bedhead on the first morning and all he can think about is about the confession, so awkward and deserving of a place in some cliche romantic comedy.

Except, like any cliche romantic comedy out there, it walks into his life in the form of Midorima Shintarou.

Midorima Shintarou who is in love with him, Kazunari Takao.

“Takao, you’re an idiot,” he mutters to no one else but himself, alone on a working day with not a single drop of alcohol or caffeine in his system.

His phone buzzes twice and Takao’s hands move almost instinctively to read the text message he was just sent.

It’s Akashi.

I have nothing against office romance, as long as it doesn’t interfere with work. Don’t worry, everyone is holding the fort well so I expect the two of you to talk it out and stop being teenagers.

Takao wonders if he can just sink so deep into his couch that he will never have to confront Akashi and work ever again. He knows however, that reality is cruel.

Reality, after all, is where his best friend is gay and in love with him.

(Is this a rabbit hole or is this the climax of every romance novel?)

Wedding decorations are, in Takao’s opinion, ridiculously gaudy and overpriced for their fragility and short term use off the counter.

However, he can’t deny that they do create a sort of angelic ambience, the bride and groom staring at each other as they utter their wedding vows, loud and clear in a room filled with both familiar faces and somewhat strangers.

“Takao-kun, has something happened between you and Midorima-kun?” Kuroko asks, sitting beside him as he faintly whispers the words, barely audible if he weren’t close enough.

Takao wonders how he should be replying to that. Avoidance is his first choice. “Huh? What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been avoiding either talking to him or making eye contact ever since we first got here that even Kagami-kun could notice it.”

If someone as blockheaded as Kagami could figure it out, Takao assumes that he’s been really obvious and there is no use denying it anymore. “I guess you could say something happened, in a way.”

Kuroko doesn’t answer, wedding vows being uttered in the background, which prompts Takao to continue as he steadily keeps his eyes on the marrying couple. “How did you know Kagami was the one, after everything you had with Aomine? When we all heard about the two of you, we just assumed you had rebounded to him since we all knew how similar those two are. How do you know you’re not throwing away years of friendship for something that might not even last?”

Takao thinks he hears Kuroko exhale deeply before he says, “I suppose you could say that Kagami-kun was a sort of rebound for me, after things with me and Aomine-kun had turned out the way they did. Naturally, I wasn’t really keen on it but Kagami-kun was so persistent that I suppose a part of me wanted to try it, regardless of whether it would work or not. It might have taken years to erase all my doubts but even if it goes downhill from here, I won’t regret the outcome or the memories that come with it.”

“I suppose an answer to your question,” Kuroko continues, soft yet firm. “Is that you’ll never know until you try. Just like the characters of the stories we proof, we learn from experience and sometimes that requires us to make choices that we can’t be assured of as right.”

Takao lets the words sink in, watching as the bride and groom lean in for the kiss, like some sort of unspoken contract of ‘forever’. From the corner of his eyes, much further in front, Midorima is sitting upright, back facing him. It’s a broad back, much broader than his own that he had always wanted to catch up to, to give him a pat over the back and walk side by side as equals.

It’s still the same wish, even if he’s grown from his middle school days, even if the goal had morphed itself a little when they had become both classmates and teammates in high school.

“This is probably the first time I’ve heard you say so much in one go.”

“The wedding was nice,” Takao comments, in an attempt to clear the awkwardness between the both of them. He wonders if the rest of them are spying from a distance, knowing just how they are.

“Indeed.”

A bit of feet shuffling and more silence. Takao sighs as he leans back slightly on the bench. “I guess I should probably give you an answer to what happened two weeks ago, shouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t mean to put you in a hard position,” Midorima says. They’re both strangely calm in a way that makes it a little easier so Takao is grateful for it.

“Somehow, I felt like I should have noticed something. I mean, based on the looks of it, the rest of them seemed to have realised it, unlike me.”

Midorima sighs, a discomforting expression on his face. “It pains me a little to admit the fact that I had to ask Aomine for advice on the whole… feelings and relationship thing.”

The thought of a disgruntled Midorima asking Aomine for any sort of advice, let alone on the topic of love, is enough to make Takao chuckle from the mental image. “You must have been in a lot of desperation if you had to ask that idiot for advice.”

Midorima doesn’t answer but Takao knows the answer, years of friendship and unlikely partnership that even reality hasn’t been able to change.

And that was all being put to the test at this very moment.

The question tumbles out before he can even catch himself. “How long?”

Cupping the back of his own neck uncharacteristically, Midorima shrugs. “Aomine said it has probably been since we all graduated from high school, that I’ve never noticed it until now because we just sunk into this familiar pattern where I just thought that all these feelings I had for you were just all the same thing.”

“That actually sounds particularly deep coming from him,” Takao says. He wonders if Aomine had been talking from experience and had given Midorima actual legit advice, recalling all the looks of nostalgia on Kuroko’s face when the days are much longer than they should be or the amount of distance between the two of them whenever they end up in the same room. He wonders how Kagami and Kise feel, with that knowledge that will never be wiped out for a lifetime.

“It might have taken years to erase all my doubts but even if it goes downhill from here, I won’t regret the outcome or the memories that come with it.”

“I’ll be honest, I have no idea whether a relationship between you and me will work,” Takao tells Midorima, trying his best to face him head on and seriously. “Neither am I sure if what I feel is a spur of the moment thing or my actual feelings in the long run. If we start something, I just want to tell you that even I can’t guarantee the outcome of it all.”

“I know,” Midorima says.

“I really mean it! I mean, I know all your bad habits and tsundere ways that I might just decide that it’s probably better to dump you after the next three months. Even Kuroko and Hyuuga didn’t end up with their first choices.”

“I know.”

“Plus kissing and sex. With you. My mind is still trying to wrap itself around that thought and it’s hard when you’re practically some asexual alien. Will it even happen?”

“With time, probably.”

“Oh, okay,” Takao answers passively.

Midorima puts a hand on Takao’s head and ruffles his hair, another non-Midorima-like move. “We have time to sort it all out and take it as slow as you want to.”

“That is such a ridiculously cliche line. Please don’t tell me you’re going to be using that for your new book because even I can tell that Akashi is going to be amused by a line like that,” Takao says, a smile slowly settling on his face.

Midorima scowls at Takao’s response and somehow, Takao finds it strangely endearing in the moment.

“Alright, I guess now it’s time to break it to the group!” Takao announces as he grabs Midorima’s hand that is still resting on his head, fingers taped even after attending a wedding, and pulls him back to the main hall.

“I still have no idea how you jump back on your feet so fast,” Midorima mutters as Takao’s height causes him to just about half-drag Midorima along.

“I guess if I think about it, I’ve always been in a relationship with you since the very beginning, I suppose,” Takao says. “Maybe you should write a story about that and see what people think about it.”

(“Why is Midorima all red? Is he drunk or something?” Kagami asks bluntly and Takao cracks up in laughter at Midorima’s protests.)

Midorima, of course, never writes the story but Takao knows about that extra draft he keeps in a hidden folder of his and it seems like just enough for him.