First of all, happy birthday, Takao! [11/21] /showers him with affection.
Okay, so basically word vomit. I thought it'd be interesting to write about Takao getting angry. Since he always seemed to be happy and cheerful, I can see him as the type to go fucking ballistic when he snapped—especially when people important to him were involved (e.g Midorima). Then from there, I crammed in the sappy emotional serious stuff.
Love Is Pain
. . .
Yeah I'm walking on a tightrope
I'm wrapped up in vines
I think we'll make it out
But you just gotta give me time
Strike me down with lightning
Let me feel you in my veins
I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain
. . .
It was halfway through the second quarter when Takao's voice broke throughout the stadium—a loud roar over the squeaking of sneakers and whistle blows, causing the players to stop in their tracks as the game came to a momentary pause. The cheering from the crowd quickly simmered down to gasps and murmurs as the sight that had previously been one of the biggest matches in the season was now Takao storming his way over to the opposite side of the court, fists balled with a look no one—not even Midorima—had ever seen.
"DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE WHAT YOU DID... YOU CHEAT!" Takao yelled out, and the face he had been making was horrifying. It was unnatural on him. His calm and carefree expression ripped away in change for blazing eyes that pierced everything he shot a glance at.
This person...had some nerve...!
Takao's look was enough to alert captain Ootsubo and the rest of Shuutoku to run after him and hold him back, because they well damn knew that things weren't going to end up pretty. Not when Takao's fists were practically shaking, itching to hit that opposing member right smack on the face with all his might.
"Calm down, Takao!" Ootsubo said desperately, seeing Takao get a little bit more out of hand with each tic of the clock as he held him back. Even Kimura's help wasn't enough. Takao was just that persistent—stubborn, as he tried hard to break away. Even with everyone else already talking some sense into the point guard, he just wouldn't listen.
"LIKE HELL I WOULD!"
Because they hurt Shin-chan...!
Midorima hadn't been so lucky this time. He'd done his rituals before the game; he had his lucky item present next to coach Nakatani on the bench. But despite all his preparations, there he was on the cold wooden floor, writhing in pain as he clutched on his left hand.
It had happened too fast. He went to block an alley-hoop. Suddenly, he felt a grasp from the left—a tight grip on the wrist, slowly crushing. He could feel his hand being bent back, the ligaments being stretched snapped. And before Midorima even had the chance to process anything, he'd already fallen; and the perpetrator? Already back to his regular plays like nothing happened.
Takao was the first to notice.
And it enraged him.
"Takao, you idiot..." Midorima muttered under his breath, wincing a little. He could hear Takao from all the way across the court, screaming out his name, cursing, and much more Midorima had decided to tune out.
What in world was he doing?
He was giving off a bad impression for the team with his outrageously careless actions. He was letting his emotions cloud his mind when he could have simply dealt with the situation in a more civil manner. And most of all...he was being an idiot by busying himself over there, when he should have been here by his side when he needed him.
Like it mattered anyway.
Midorima looked away, focusing on getting himself up instead. It proved to be more of a challenge than he'd thought, considering how every little movement he made was a sting throughout every cell of his body.
With shaking legs, he managed to rise to his feet, ignoring Miyaji's outstretched hand before him.
"Stubborn brat. I'm already helping you..." Miyaji mumbled. But Miyaji knew his junior better so he let him off with a scoff.
Coach Nakatani had suggest that Midorima head to the infirmary at once. But Midorima had other things he needed to take care of first.
"Takao..." Midorima said when he'd reached the point guard, and cursed under his breath when the latter didn't even spare him a glance. Midorima did this calmly for a few more times, until he finally snapped. "Takao! Listen to me!" He said in a harsh tone.
Takao spun around to face Midorima, who failed in trying to hide how agonized he actually felt. Takao's furrowed brows and scowl softened to a look of worry.
"Let's go." Midorima prompted.
"Let's. Go." The finality in Midorima's voice left Takao with no choice. He didn't even get a chance to glare back at the offender for one last time as Midorima had already started to walk away, leaving Takao behind.
After a little while, the game resumed with a member change. The crowd was once again cheering for their favoured team as the ball accelerated with each pass and dribble. The sounds from inside echoed loudly onto the halls.
...While Midorima and Takao's walk to the infirmary was silent.
. . .
"Why didn't you say anything." It wasn't a question.
It had been passed some time since Midorima and Takao had reached the infirmary. The shooter finally got his wrist tended to. They'd found out that it had not been broken after all (fortunately), and that it had simply been sprained.
Bandages were in place and pain killers were taken. The nurse had informed them that it would take about weeks for Midorima's wrist to be completely healed. Weeks before Midorima could play basketball again. Takao sneered in displeasure upon hearing this.
The room was silent until the nurse had taken her leave, and Takao decided to pick up from where he had left. "If you didn't stop me, I could've showed him who he messed with."
Midorima sighed and replied, his gaze diverted from Takao's. "Forget about it, Takao. It already happened. I'm okay now. There's no more point in pressing into the issue further." He flexed his wrist. He flinched. And it took Takao all the effort not to fucking lose it. "Besides..." Midorima continued. "If I didn't stop you, things would have turned out bad"
"But it wasn't right!"
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"Yes it does!" Takao argued.
"No. It doesn't. Just let it pass, Takao—"
"I can't let it pass!" Takao cried out. "They hurt you, Shin-chan! Worse things could have happened. You could have broken your wrist for good! And you just walked off like it was nothing!"
Midorima looked at Takao firmly, "I told you, I'm fine."
But it seemed that Takao hadn't been quite convinced as he snorted and smirked darkly, "No you're not. You're mad, aren't you? You're upset, too. You didn't want this to happen, and you wanted to tell him off. I know you're not okay, Shin-chan. Stop hiding it from me. Stop trying to act so cool, 'cause it's not! I was there, I could have—!"
And it took Midorima that much to finally start snapping back. "Stop it, Takao. I simply don't understand why you have to go on about this anymore! I said I was okay already, didn't I? Why are you still so worked up over it?!" Midorima said, voice loud and bouncing off the walls of the room.
"Because you won't be!" There was a bang against the table tray, the thin surface of its metal now dented with a light print of Takao's fist. He could feel blood clotting from the inside and a bruise forming on the side of his hand, but he could care less. "Because you won't be, Shin-chan..." Takao said, almost pleadingly. "You're the one who's hard to understand..." He added, this time in a hushed silence.
Water was welling up in Takao's eyes. He tried to fight it back in spite of it stinging. "I'm angry for Shin-chan, you know? I want to fight back for Shin-chan..."
Midorima could hear the sobs between Takao's breathing. He could see the tears falling and staining the fabric of his shorts as he held his head down. Midorima lifted a bandaged hand and placed it just under the side of the other's jaw line before lifting it up.
Takao saw Midorima wince, and he wanted to pull away. That mere movement must have hurt badly. But a thumb had run gently over his eyelid, wiping the tears away. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm crying for you, Shin-chan," Takao sniffed. "Because deep inside, you're upset and disappointed...I know. I can feel it."
And it was true, what Takao had just said. But what was even worse was seeing Takao breaking down. With all the pain Midorima can endure with his left hand, he brought Takao's head closer to him. "Why do you do this?"
Takao buried his face against Midorima's chest. "Because it's not fair for Shin-chan to go through these things alone. After all, we're partners, aren't we?"
"Idiot. You don't need to go that far." Midorima had once again lifted Takao's face, his emeralds boring into the other's icy-blues. "I'm all better now," he said, giving a gentle smile.
Slowly, Takao pulled away, cautious of Midorima's injury. "Psh. No you're not." He replied stubbornly, but cracked a small smile anyway as wiped the remaining tear tracks now moist on his cheeks. "Shin-chan, next time we'll get our revenge."
"Yes, yes..." Takao assured, taking Midorima's hand and planting a kiss on the bandaged wrist. "Whatever my Ace-sama says."
Sappy emotional serious stuff, effective, ineffective? (Crosses fingers and wishes it made an impact).
The original person I used as the 'offender' was Hanamiya (please don't hurt me /hides under a rock).
And those caps and italics. You can just imagine how furious Takao must have been.