Title: Hammer and Nail
Disclaimer: when Akashi loses
Author's Notes: ok so i basically pulled this out of my ass today because i wanted to publish something on here asjkdhjkasd uhm, this is unbeta'd, so i apologize for any mistakes! reviews are cherished 5EVUR ~ other than that, i hope you enjoy! ; u;
There were five lucky items in his office. The number had been fifteen, but after the many patients that had dropped by today, the count dwindled down by ten. It wasn't that he minded, though; on days when the lucky item wasn't hazardous to children, he bought out half of the store's stock just so he could give them to his patients. After all, most of them that visited him were sick, and with the lucky item, he could give it to them and say that it was a "charm" that would help them get better. Most parents thought it was cute of him to give away small toys, but he wasn't really a giving person; he actually believed that the lucky item could help the child.
"Here." Reaching over past the mother, he handed a small stuffed bear to the sniffling child. "This is the day's lucky item. Keep it close to you, and you'll feel better in the morning." Once his patient accepted his gift, he peered up at the mother. "Make sure he gets plenty of rest. He should be fine by morning. If not, give us a call."
The mother nodded in response. "Alright. Thank you, Midorima-sensei." After giving him a bow, she placed her hand on her son's shoulder and led him out of the office.
Left alone, Midorima raked his fingers through his green hair and heaved a sigh. He was supposed to be home thirty minutes ago, but he received an emergency call just before he closed the office, and well, he wasn't one to deny a sick child, so he told the panicky mother to bring her son to see him. The visit spanned over twenty minutes, which wasn't long at all. Then again, he wasn't in a rush; no one was waiting for him at home anyway.
Shutting the door to his small office, Midorima glanced around the darkened lobby of the place he worked at. His desk operator, Momoi Satsuki, was long gone, and from the looks of it, the other pediatricians— Kise Ryouta and Kuroko Tetsuya— went home as well. Figuring that there wasn't a point in lingering around an empty building, Midorima made his way toward the exit.
It was raining. Despite the weatherman saying that there was a forty perfect chance of rain today, Midorima brought an umbrella to work this morning, and seeing the weather now, he was glad he made the decision.
Stepping out, he opened his umbrella. Once safe from the droplets of water, Midorima shut the entrance door and locked it. After checking to make sure it was secure, he turned on his heel and began walking home, which was fortunately only two blocks away.
The rain wasn't letting up; if anything, it was coming down stronger. Wanting to be under a roof, he quickened his walk; however, his pace soon faltered when he spotted something black sitting against a wall. At first, he passed it off as nothing but a trash bag, but when he drew closer, he was surprised to find that it was person. The figure was sitting with their knees drawn up and their head buried in their arms, and it was clear that their entire body was trembling from the exposure to rain. Drawing even closer, he saw that it wasn't a man but a child. Originally, he planned to ignore the other and continue home, but seeing that it was a child, he couldn't help but do something.
Halting in front of the shaking figure, Midorima extended his umbrella over so that it covered the child's head instead of his own. A second later, the person peered up, his eyes blown wide, his mouth parted as if to ask why? At that point, Midorima realized that it wasn't a young child, but a grown one. Somewhat embarrassed by his misinterpretation, he wanted nothing more than to turn away and leave, but he knew better than to leave this young man here in the pouring rain.
Midorima cleared his throat and then said, "Take it."
For the first few seconds, the other stared at him, but after a bit, he reached out and took the umbrella, his fingers brushing against the back of Midorima's hand out of gratitude.
The stranger's voice sounded unsure, and his expression reflected confusion. Why was someone helping him? Why was someone caring? Midorima asked himself these questions as he released his hold on the umbrella. He wanted to say that he helped him because he thought it was a child, and perhaps that was so, but a small part of him argued that he was helping him out because he pitied him. But that couldn't be; he was Midorima Shintarou, and Midorima Shintarou didn't care for anyone except his patients.
Reaching up and adjusting his glasses (which began to fall due to the rain), Midorima turned away and started toward his house. Yet, before his fifth step, the young man called out to him.
Midorima didn't want to wait, but for some reason, he stopped in his tracks.
"Mister, can I ... can I go home with you?"
He responded to that question in a heartbeat. "No."
With the exception of the rain hitting the ground, silence settled between them. Midorima willed himself to move forward, but his feet were planted in place. His mind was blank; he couldn't think, and by time he could, he heard the pleading voice again.
There was a big difference between a parent's plead and this person's plead. In his office, when a parent begged him to help their child, their request was coated with worry. On the other hand, this young man didn't sound worried at all; he sounded desperate.
How long had he been out here, sitting under the rain? When was the last time he ate? What happened to him?
Midorima didn't want to know, because if he found out, he would feel even more sorry for him, and when that happened, he would start caring.
Rain painted both sides of his glasses; what he could see was distorted. He itched to take them off and wipe the water away, but instead of doing that, he turned back to face the stranger. The overgrown child was standing and holding the umbrella up to block out the droplets that fell. His expression was no longer confused but hopeful. That wasn't what Midorima focused on, though. His eyes fell from the figure's face to his thin body. The sight of such was disheartening. No one should look like that, especially not a child (an overgrown child in this case).
"Fine," Midorima said, his tone quipped. "Follow me."
At the sound of that, a smile broke out on the other's face, but it wasn't just any smile; it was a smile of hope.
"Hurry up. I'm getting wet."
Midorima could see the spark of gratitude as the stranger ushered over to put the umbrella over both of their heads.
"The name's Takao. What's yours?"
Takao's smile widened. "Thank you, Midorima-san!"
And at that moment, Midorima swore he never saw someone as happy as the young man he just rescued.