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1.
Here was the thing: Midorima wasn't like the others.
Kazunari, he was normal. Or at least nobody said he was weird, which was as good as you could hope for as a teenaged boy. He was good at basketball, really good, almost as good as a regular person could get if he had a lick of hand-eye coordination and practised hard because he liked it. He played other sports for fun, even if he did get competitive, and people thought they were lucky if they got him on their team in PE because he was athletic and a team player and always played his best. But he loved and worked hard at basketball, and he'd got pretty good. Good enough to make the first string in his first year of high school.
Shin-chan blew him out of the water.
It wasn't just that Shin-chan practised. They all practised, and they couldn't get away with slacking at Shuutoku. They worked for it, god but they all worked for it. Shin-chan had other hobbies, just like they did, so you couldn't say he was monomaniacal (about basketball, anyway) - he played shogi and the piano and studied hard and kept up with crazy superstitions. So, no, it wasn't just the time he put in. It wasn't just his height either, though you could never really say height didn't matter in basketball.
The obsessive practice of one specific form, that was part of Shin-chan's indomitable skill. Kazunari had quoted the Jackie Chan line at him, the one about the man who's practised one kick a thousand times, and Shin-chan had nodded at him so seriously that Kazunari had stopped laughing. Because it was true, wasn't it? Shin-chan's three-pointers were like nothing else, because he'd practised long past when anyone else would have declared they couldn't sink another goddamn three-pointer if God himself told them to, they were sick of three-pointers. Shin-chan worked straight past that point and kept going.
Kazunari had never taken anything that seriously in his life. Not studying, not a hobby. Not even basketball, and he was pretty serious about basketball. He didn't do stuff half-heartedly, but he was always prepared to lay down the bat or the controller or the pen and concede gracefully, so he could do something else that was more fun.
Kazunari didn't think basketball was about fun, for Shin-chan.
2.
Kazunari started calling him Shin-chan because it was funny to tease him, funny to call this huge serious weirdo a cutesy nickname. Everyone on the team liked it, because it dimished the enormous alien they'd been lumbered with into something more human, into a boy who could be called a hilariously inappropriate diminuitive that annoyed him.
Shin-chan stopped protesting quicker than Kazunari would have expected. It didn't matter to Kazunari - he was getting called Shin-chan whether he liked it or not - but it entertained him how quickly the tsun had given way to the dere.
"Does no-one else call you by your first name?" Kazunari had asked. "You can call me Kazunari, it's fine. Or you could really even things up and call me Kazu-chan. Except please don't, because Miyaji might actually die. You might actually kill him. Hell, I think it would kill me." He could say this kind of thing, secure in the knowledge that Shin-chan would literally never call him Kazu-chan unless he was on drugs.
"A friend in middle school did," said Shin-chan shortly. "I didn't like it."
A friend in middle school, huh. Shin-chan was pretty closed-mouthed about his famous middle school and its famous basketball team. Kazunari knew all about them anyway, including how it felt to lose to them. Characteristically, Shin-chan hadn't noticed him. Why should he? It had been just one more match for the Generation of Miracles to steamroll over their opponents. Shin-chan probably hadn't even noticed the name of the school.
Funny, in all the two months Kazunari had known him, Shin-chan had never mentioned having friends in middle school.
"A friend on the basketball team?" Kazunari suggested.
"Mm," said Shin-chan, with an unreadable look on his face, and whatever he said Kazunari couldn't get a damn thing more out of him.
3.
"No big lucky item today, huh?" It was a Thursday morning and the gakuran-clad boys of Shuutoku were drifting through the gates. For such an old and well-regarded school, you'd think they could spring for some metal paint. Shin-chan cast his eyes over the flaking green paint in the same way as he'd dismissed the ancient pommel horse that had been left in the gym at one of their first basketball practices.
"Today's item for Cancer was very small, as should be perfectly obvious." A month ago, Takao might have assumed that if the item wasn't in evidence, Shin-chan simply didn't have it yet; but you couldn't miss when Shin-chan didn't have today's lucky item. The stone orb on the gatepost would already be wobbling precariously, ready to fall on Shin-chan's head. If Kazunari had had that kind of luck, he'd have turned to Oha Asa too.
Shin-chan reached into his pocket and withdrew a small piece of white plastic in the shape of an isoceles triangle. Kazunari blinked at it for a moment before recognising what it was.
"Huh, I could have lent you one of my little sister's. I wouldn't even have to ask, she's forever losing them."
"I got this off my younger sister," said Shin-chan stiffly. "Thank you," he added belatedly.
"No, you have a little sister and you never said? How old? What's her name?" Shin-chan had started walking and Kazunari was keeping up with him, which was harder than it sounded when you remembered that Shin-chan had a much longer stride length and tended to march around like he was going to mow down anything that didn't get out of the way fast enough.
"Emi is ten," said Shin-chan grudgingly. "She is very conscientious about her belongings." Which translated to: I had to beg her on bended knee for this hair clip.
"No way, she's the same age as Nana! Fifth year of elementary?"
"Yes." Mercifully, Shin-chan did not comment on their 'awfully modern' names.
"Tell me you've got a picture on your phone. I've got loads of Nana. Mostly because she steals my phone and takes pictures of herself pulling silly faces. Look, I've got one as my lock screen right now because she set it that way." Kazunari pulled out his phone to prove it. Shin-chan had the manners to glance at it - and then look again in surprise. "I know, everyone does that. It's like I've got a female clone, right?"
"There's a remarkable family resemblance." They'd stopped walking. Shin-chan hesitated for a moment before taking out his own phone.
"This is Emi, as should be perfectly obvious."
"Oh, you're not kidding." Emi had long green plaits and glasses, and she didn't look too pleased at having her photo taken. "It's you! As a girl, with a violin!"
"Since we both had piano lessons, she decided that she had to do better by taking up another instrument. This was taken when she performed Vivaldi's 'Spring' at a school concert." From the tone of Shin-chan's voice, Kazunari deduced that this was impressive for a ten-year-old.
"I see, I see. Is she going to go to Teikou as well? Does she play basketball?" Nana definitely wasn't going to Teikou, and if his and Shin-chan's sisters ended up at the same middle school, Kazunari would die laughing.
"She plays hockey. And Emi refuses to discuss middle schools with me." Shin-chan started walking again. "We don't want to be late."
"Uh-huh. The barette's cute. Does it not bring you more luck if you actually wear it?"
"Oha Asa does not specify how you keep the lucky item on your person, only that you do." They crossed the covered walkway that led to the first-year classrooms. "Also, you just want to see me with a barette in my hair."
"Busted," agreed Kazunari cheerfully. "I'd set that as my lock screen, for sure."
4.
They come third in the Winter Cup. It's fine. Kazunari only cries a bit when they lose to Rakuzan in the semis.
They win against Kaijou, which is obviously better than not winning, but Kazunari feels kind of a dick over how easily Shuutoku dominates while Kise is benched. The Kaijou captain, Kasamatsu, is giving it his all and whipping the team up, and they push Shuutoku pretty hard, but it's just not a fair game when Shuutoku have their Miracle and Kaijou don't. Kaijou are gracious losers, at least, though it must smart for the third-years.
He tries to catch Kasamatsu's eye afterwards, because he likes and respects Kasamatsu based on their roughly ten minutes of interaction. Plus, he's kinda cute. Kazunari bets he's a great captain for someone like Kise. Kise won't be able to get away with anything under Kasamatsu's eye.
They converge on Shin-chan and Kise at pretty much the same time. Their respective Miracles are easy to spot even in a crowd of basketballers, so Kazunari just makes for the green head towering above all others.
They've finished their talk by the time Kasamatsu and Kazunari catch up with them. They both look serious. Kise actually looks more handsome when he's not smiling winsomely.
"It's very unfortunate that Kise-kun injured his leg," says Shin-chan. "I was expressing my sympathy." He doesn't look hugely sympathetic, but with Shin-chan you can't just go by the look on his face, or you'd assume he'd never known happiness in his life.
"Uh-huh, sympathy, that's very you. I was disappointed not to face him either. Kaijou really pushed us, but it wasn't really fair when we had you but they didn't have him, if you get my drift. Kise's the only one on that team who could have matched you. I guess we won't know who's really better til next year, huh?"
"I'm sure Shuutoku will again emerge victorious over Kaijou, as should be perfectly obvious." But Shin-chan has a little smile on his face. Kazunari realises that Shin-chan is teasing him. Oh, wow, Ootsubo's dream of Kazunari 'rubbing off' on Shin-chan really has come to pass.
"You're so much better-looking when you smile," says Kazunari. Shin-chan goggles at him through the stupid but endearing dark glasses he believes are a disguise and is wearing indoors like a douche.
"That's completely irrelevant," he says, so crossly and so haughtily that Kazunari knows he's embarrassed so he's coming over all tsun.
"You're blushing," says Kazunari gleefully. He's not even surprised when Shin-chan strides off without him, forcing him to jog to keep up.
5.
"I apologise for disturbing you in Golden Week," says Shin-chan, very formally, like he's come to sell Kazunari insurance instead of dropping round to see a friend.
"Disturbing what? It's just me, my sister's out at a friend's house and Mom's there too because she's friends with that girl's mom and she's probably yakking herself hoarse. Come in, I'll get you a drink."
Shin-chan removes his shoes with the greatest care. Kazunari thinks it's cute how he always makes sure to line them up neatly. He can't believe he used to think it was weird and anal-retentive instead of endearing.
"I brought you your lucky item," says Shin-chan once they're sitting at the living room table. Kazunari's game is paused on the screen. Shin-chan's stuffed penguin is sitting on its own cushion. He hands over a red pencil with dignity.
"Thanks, Shin-chan." Kazunari looks at it and turns it over like it's a business card, then puts his hands in his lap with the pencil. "Is Scorpio's luck particularly bad today?" Shin-chan does sometimes bring him a lucky item if Scorpio is ranked bottom that day. "That's sweet of you to bring this."
"Fourth, actually."
"Uh-huh." Kazunari squints at Shin-chan across the table. Okay, this has never happened before. He looks between the red pencil, Shin-chan, and the penguin. It's not that Shin-chan can't be kind and generous, but coming round to give him his lucky item when Scorpio is ranked fourth is out of character. There's something else going on.
There's an awkward pause. At length, Shin-chan clears his throat.
"I had a plan for how I would steer the conversation around to the topic I came to talk to you about. It was going to be very clever and delicate. Unfortunately, I have forgotten it completely."
"Shin-chan, your ears are red," says Kazunari because he can't think of anything else. Shin-chan is super cute when he's embarrassed. The gears are turning in Kazunari's brain.
"I must ask you something," croaks Shin-chan. It's not just his ears that are red. His glasses are slipping down his nose but his hands are clenched tight in his lap instead of pushing them back up. He's somehow managed to sit seiza and it looks phenomenally uncomfortable.
"Shin-chan, you sound like you're going to propose. You look like you're going to propose."
The words are still coming out of his mouth when the lightbulb clicks on above his head. Shin-chan's mouth opens but nothing comes out. The way he's looking at Kazunari...
Okay. He's going to have to make a decision. It's a big one. Shin-chan has gone full dere, which is quite something on a 190cm athletic teenaged boy with glasses and a serious face and a big plushie penguin.
Luckily, Kazunari's into that. He's more into it than he'd realised before about five seconds ago. He's very, very into everything about Shin-chan.
"Put your hand on the table. No, palm up."
Shin-chan puts his taped left hand on the table, just as Kazunari tells him to. His long-fingered precious left hand.
Kazunari takes it with his right hand. He puts them palm-to-palm, then he interlaces their fingers. Shin-chan lets him. Can he feel Kazunari's pulse through their joined hands? Probably not, but Kazunari feels like he's throbbing all over, like he's one big exposed nerve. His heart is in his mouth.
"Does that answer the question you were going to ask me?" Please, please.
Shin-chan nods. He's looking at Kazunari's face, but not quite managing to look him in the eye. Kazunari feels the same way.
"Shin-chan's really cute," he manages. He squeezes Shin-chan's big hand. Shin-chan squeezes back.