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Balls for Gishtas
While Takao frequently helped him with his lucky items – he didn't receive much choice in the matter, of course – this was something new. This morning as he waited in front of his house with the rickshaw, his outstretched hand cradled a fuzzy green ball. This meant that not only had Takao listened to the latest Oha Asa broadcast of his own volition, but had taken the time to acquire Cancer's lucky item. Midorima felt the pride of leading someone down the proper path in life.
"Cancer is only in third place today, so doubling up on my lucky item will be helpful." He accepted the gift from Takao, and it sat in his palm with a Marimo ball from the ornamental pond in his family's back yard.
Now if only his influence could spread to increased seriousness so Takao would stop standing there vibrating like an idiot. He looked down at the spheres of algae in his palm, then back at Takao's hand clamped over his mouth, crinkles at the corners of his eyes and a slight shaking of his shoulders giving away the hidden laughter.
Of course. He pushed up his glasses.
"Yes, Takao, I'm aware that the Marimos are green and so is my hair. Only a fool would find this remarkable."
There was another convulsion before he pulled himself together. "Ha ha...ah you got me, Shin-chan."
"Now if you will get the importance of being on time for practice." But first, according to an online resource he consulted earlier this morning, Plastic bags are the easiest way to travel with Marimo moss. He removed a bag from his pocket and placed them both inside to keep them safe during the ride. Midorima chose not to comment on the idiocy of trying to pedal a cart while slouched so far over the handlebars he would have feared Takao had collapsed if he couldn't see his feet working the pedals.
He entered the locker room carrying the Marimos in their pouch, dangling at about chest-height. If Takao's jerky movements had been a sign of a flaw in his personality, his other teammates' various eye twitches looked like a sign of serious blood pressure problems.
"Oh, for-!" There was an epidemic of hands over mouths today. Before Miyaji could get out any specific threats, Kimura pulled him away.
After practice, Midorima's day continued in a similar strange fashion, making him extra grateful for the two lucky items. The problems he might have faced if he weren't so prepared! It was nothing to glare at anyone who stared at him, but there was a moment at midday when he thought Takao might choke on his lunch. And it was just after he took the Marimos out of their sack and started rolling them in the palm of his hand to make sure they were maintaining their roundness and staying damp enough to survive the day. Having to help him would have endangered the lucky items themselves.
They all survived, free of any moments when Takao had to consider his relative worth compared to algae, and the end of the school day brought a practice match against Touou. Midorima would realize later it was fate, and Virgo's second-place ranking, that led him to be a minute later than usual walking down the hallway to the locker room.
"They're that one guy's, right?" Aomine stopped and looked at the plastic bag with a smirk. "I knew there was a reason he put up with you."
Midorima wasn't naturally vulgar, but he also wasn't naïve. The first fact had served him well throughout the day, but now it all came crumbling down with a few words and that stupid expression on Aomine's face.
He was carrying Marimo balls.
In a sack.
Balls.
Takao gave him-
"TAKAO!"
"Cancer is only in third place today, so doubling up on my lucky item will be helpful." He accepted the gift from Takao, and it sat in his palm with a Marimo ball from the ornamental pond in his family's back yard.
Now if only his influence could spread to increased seriousness so Takao would stop standing there vibrating like an idiot. He looked down at the spheres of algae in his palm, then back at Takao's hand clamped over his mouth, crinkles at the corners of his eyes and a slight shaking of his shoulders giving away the hidden laughter.
Of course. He pushed up his glasses.
"Yes, Takao, I'm aware that the Marimos are green and so is my hair. Only a fool would find this remarkable."
There was another convulsion before he pulled himself together. "Ha ha...ah you got me, Shin-chan."
"Now if you will get the importance of being on time for practice." But first, according to an online resource he consulted earlier this morning, Plastic bags are the easiest way to travel with Marimo moss. He removed a bag from his pocket and placed them both inside to keep them safe during the ride. Midorima chose not to comment on the idiocy of trying to pedal a cart while slouched so far over the handlebars he would have feared Takao had collapsed if he couldn't see his feet working the pedals.
He entered the locker room carrying the Marimos in their pouch, dangling at about chest-height. If Takao's jerky movements had been a sign of a flaw in his personality, his other teammates' various eye twitches looked like a sign of serious blood pressure problems.
"Oh, for-!" There was an epidemic of hands over mouths today. Before Miyaji could get out any specific threats, Kimura pulled him away.
After practice, Midorima's day continued in a similar strange fashion, making him extra grateful for the two lucky items. The problems he might have faced if he weren't so prepared! It was nothing to glare at anyone who stared at him, but there was a moment at midday when he thought Takao might choke on his lunch. And it was just after he took the Marimos out of their sack and started rolling them in the palm of his hand to make sure they were maintaining their roundness and staying damp enough to survive the day. Having to help him would have endangered the lucky items themselves.
They all survived, free of any moments when Takao had to consider his relative worth compared to algae, and the end of the school day brought a practice match against Touou. Midorima would realize later it was fate, and Virgo's second-place ranking, that led him to be a minute later than usual walking down the hallway to the locker room.
"They're that one guy's, right?" Aomine stopped and looked at the plastic bag with a smirk. "I knew there was a reason he put up with you."
Midorima wasn't naturally vulgar, but he also wasn't naïve. The first fact had served him well throughout the day, but now it all came crumbling down with a few words and that stupid expression on Aomine's face.
He was carrying Marimo balls.
In a sack.
Balls.
Takao gave him-
"TAKAO!"