Every day, Midorima Shintarou does everything humanly possible—and every day, he comes in second. Second in exams. Second on the court. Always one step behind Akashi Seijuurou, the captain who seems to excel at everything without breaking a sweat.
When a sudden downpour catches Midorima without an umbrella, it's Akashi who appears with a spare, offering it with that same gentle, unreadable smile. Midorima accepts it grudgingly, determined to return it the next day and forget the whole thing.
B
The Forgotten Umbrella - Memory at the Fingertips — The Warmth That Returned, and the Meaning I Cannot Grasp
The March morning was still cold. His breath came out in a thin white cloud that lingered for a moment, then vanished. Midorima Shintarou pushed up the bridge of his black-rimmed half-frame glasses with his middle finger. His fingertip was trembling, just slightly.
A notice board on the school building wall read "Graduation Ceremony." He stared at the characters through his lenses. In his pocket, a small wooden-carved bear pressed its hard edges against the pad of his finger. It was today's lucky item, as designated by that morning's *Ohayou Asa* horoscope program. Cancer's ranking for the day: fifth place.
(Not bad. But not good, either.)
Graduation, huh. He understood it in his head. Today marked the end of his days at Teikou Middle School. As vice-captain of the basketball club, as one of the Generation of Miracles, and—as the one who stood at Akashi Seijuurou's side.
(I couldn't say a single thing. Not until the very end.)
He pressed his lips together. The back of his teeth felt rough and dry.
Nearly two years had passed since that rainy day. The day Akashi had offered him a folding umbrella in front of the school gate, in the pouring rain. Akashi's smile then had been genuinely warm. But he hadn't seen that smile in a long, long time. The one-on-one with Murasakibara Atsushi. From that day forward, Akashi had changed. The warm captain had vanished, and what remained was an ice-cold ruler who did nothing but repeat, "It's to win."
(Where did you go?)
He murmured it in his heart, and no answer came. There had never been an answer.
——
The graduation ceremony was held in the gymnasium. Before it began, Midorima walked alone to the back of the gym. The narrow passage between the school building and the gymnasium. An unremarkable place, the kind students used to skip class. But to Midorima, it was special. Here, he had thought about things countless times. About Akashi. About the umbrella. About his own feelings.
He leaned his back against the wall and looked up at the sky. Thin clouds drifted slowly across it.
(Today, it ends. All of it, ends.)
He closed his eyes—and that was when it happened.
"Fancy meeting you here, Midorima."
A voice. Midorima opened his eyes. Akashi Seijuurou was walking toward him from the far end of the passage. His vivid red hair was neatly groomed, as always. His right eye red, his left eye orange—heterochromatic. His small frame was dressed in the graduation ceremony uniform.
(Akashi.)
His body went rigid. Akashi stopped in front of him and gave a soft laugh.
"What are you doing out here so early in the morning? The ceremony isn't for a while yet."
His voice was gentle.
(...What?)
Something was off. Akashi's voice was different. It wasn't that cold voice. Not that icy voice that only repeated "It's to win." This was—
(It's the voice from that day.)
His chest stirred uneasily.
"...Nothing in particular. What about you—what are you doing here?"
He answered, feigning composure. Akashi smiled faintly.
"I was taking a little walk, too. On the last day, I wanted to walk through this school one more time."
(Ore.)
He repeated it in his mind. He'd just said *ore*. Akashi's first-person pronoun had changed to *boku* after that day. He'd started calling Midorima "Shintarou," too. But now, Akashi had said *ore*. He'd called him "Midorima."
(What does this mean?)
He stared at Akashi's face through his glasses. Akashi noticed his gaze and tilted his head.
"Is something wrong?"
"...No. It's nothing."
He looked away.
(Something is strange. No—it isn't strange. This is the Akashi from that day. But why now, at this moment—)
Questions churned in his head. And then it happened. Akashi brushed his bangs aside. Gently, with his fingertips. That motion—
(...!)
He stopped breathing. The gesture of sweeping his bangs from right to left, softly. It was exactly the same as the Akashi from that rainy day. In the downpour, before offering the folding umbrella, Akashi had brushed his bangs aside the same way. So the wet strands wouldn't get in his eyes. The angle of his fingertips then. The turn of his wrist. The way he released the tension. All of it overlapped with the Akashi standing before him now.
(It's the same.)
His heart leaped hard. He was following Akashi's fingers with his eyes. Slender, long, sharp fingers—the kind that played shogi and chess. Those fingertips brushing his bangs. The memory came back vividly. The sound of rain. The wet asphalt. Akashi's smile. *"Use this. I have a spare."* That voice echoed deep in his ears.
(Are you still the way you were that day?)
He looked at Akashi's face. Akashi gazed back at him with a calm expression.
"Midorima. This might be the last time I talk with you."
He said it with that warm smile from that day. Midorima's chest tightened.
(The last time, he says.)
He drew a breath.
"What are you talking about?"
He shot back, with his usual居高 attitude.
(That's not like you. You were never the kind of man to say things like that. You always thought only of winning, always looked forward—you had nothing to do with such weak words. So why now—)
Confusion spread through him. Hearing his words, Akashi lowered his eyes just slightly.
"It's the truth."
He said only that, quietly.
(The truth. So you think this will be our last conversation.)
He bit his lip.
"...Are you going somewhere?"
He was asking in a voice so low it surprised even himself. Akashi shook his head.
"That's not what I mean. It's just that today, we walk separate paths. Different high schools, each of us. So the chance to talk like this, just the two of us—it won't come again."
(Separate paths. I know. I've known all along. But hearing it said to my face, it hurts this much—)
He clenched his fist.
"...Even if we're at different schools, as long as we both keep playing basketball, we'll meet on the court. At the national tournament. I promise you."
(This is a declaration of war. I will beat you. Wherever you go, I'll stand in your way.)
Hearing those words, Akashi smiled as if delighted.
"Yeah. I'll be looking forward to it."
That smile was the smile of the Akashi from that rainy day. Deep in his chest, something grew hot.
(This smile. This is what I've wanted to see all along. This smile.)
Behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed.
——
"Seijuurou! So this is where you were."
A bright voice rang out suddenly. Midorima and Akashi both turned toward it at once. Nijimura Shuuzou had been passing by the back of the gym. Short, neatly trimmed black hair. Strong brown eyes. A friendly grin. He was the former captain of the Teikou Middle School basketball club—one year above Midorima and the others.
"Don't be late for the ceremony. If the captain shows up late, it'll look bad."
He approached Akashi as he spoke. Akashi turned toward Nijimura. And in that instant—Nijimura's feet stopped dead. His eyes went wide at Akashi's face.
(Nijimura-san...?)
Midorima tensed. For just a moment, Nijimura wore an expression as if something had startled him. Then, slowly, he shifted his gaze toward Midorima. Those eyes held something complicated—as though he'd realized something.
"...Midorima."
His name was called in a low voice.
"Yes?"
He answered tensely. Nijimura opened his mouth as if to say something. But before he could, Akashi spoke.
"Nijimura-san. I'm sorry to have worried you. I'll head to the ceremony hall right away."
Akashi gave Nijimura a slight bow. Nijimura stared hard at Akashi's face.
"...Yeah. That's right. You're always so proper—I wasn't worried."
He forced a smile.
(What was it that startled Nijimura-san just now?)
He couldn't stop wondering about Nijimura's expression. Nijimura turned back toward Midorima.
"Midorima. If you've got something you want to say to Akashi, now's the time."
He said it quietly.
"...Huh?"
The words caught in his throat.
(Now's the time. What am I supposed to say? To Akashi, what—)
His mind went blank. There were things he wanted to say. Things he'd never been able to say. About that rainy day. About the umbrella. About his smile. About how he had changed. And then—
(I—about you—)
He parted his lips. But no sound came out.
"...Well, don't get so worked up about it. It'll work out somehow."
Nijimura clapped Midorima on the shoulder. That hand was warm.
"See you both at the ceremony."
With that, he left the back of the gym. Midorima watched his retreating back.
(Nijimura-san knows something. Something about Akashi.)
He clenched his fist.
(And I know nothing. Am I going to end this without ever knowing?)
——
"Midorima."
Akashi's voice pulled him back. Akashi was looking at Midorima's hands. Midorima's hand. In it—a folding umbrella was gripped tight.
(Damn.)
That morning, before leaving the house, he'd picked it up without thinking. The folding umbrella he'd borrowed from Akashi on that rainy day. He'd never returned it—had kept it for nearly two years.
(Why now, of all times—)
He tried to hide it. But it was too late. Akashi's eyes had landed on the umbrella.
"You still have that umbrella."
He smiled softly. Midorima's heart pounded violently.
(You still have it. You remembered that umbrella.)
He drew a breath.
"...I meant to return it. All this time. But I never found the right moment."
He said it quickly.
(No. The truth is, I just couldn't bring myself to return it. If I gave this umbrella back, it felt like nothing would remain of my connection to you.)
He gripped the umbrella tight. Akashi watched his hands and shook his head quietly.
"It's fine for now."
"...What?"
"You don't have to return it now. Keep it."
Akashi said it and looked straight into Midorima's eyes. Those eyes—right red, left orange.
(It's the Akashi from that day.)
He couldn't look away.
"Keep it. And someday, I want you to return it."
It was a quiet voice.
"...Someday, you say."
"That's right. When you feel like talking with me again."
He smiled as he said it. Deep in his chest, something crumbled with a sound.
(When I feel like talking with you again. Will such a day ever come? It can't. Because you're going to disappear from in front of me.)
He gritted his teeth.
"...Where are you going?"
His voice was shaking. Akashi looked slightly troubled.
"I'm not going anywhere. It's just that today, our paths divide. That's all."
With that, he began walking toward the gym exit.
"See you at the ceremony, Midorima."
He said it without turning back. Midorima watched his retreating figure. The vivid red hair, lit by the morning light, looked as if it were burning.
(How many times have I watched you walk away?)
He gripped the umbrella. An odd sensation lingered in his fingertips. That movement of his fingers. That smile. That voice. All of it was the Akashi from that day.
(But why. Why, at this very moment, has the old you come back?)
He searched for an answer. But the answer was nowhere to be found.
——
The graduation ceremony proceeded quietly. The gymnasium was filled with the entire student body. Midorima watched the stage from the row of underclassmen.
(Akashi is reading the farewell address.)
At Teikou Middle School's graduation ceremony, a representative student reads the farewell address. This year's representative was Akashi Seijuurou.
(What words will you—the cold you—read before the whole school?)
He held his breath, waiting for Akashi to appear. Quiet footsteps echoed through the gymnasium. Akashi Seijuurou stepped onto the stage. Vivid red hair. Neatly groomed bangs. Right eye red, left eye orange—heterochromatic. He stood before the entire student body and bowed slowly.
"I am Akashi Seijuurou, representing the graduating class."
His voice carried clearly to every corner of the gymnasium.
(...!)
Midorima stopped breathing. That voice. That posture. That expression. All of it was the Akashi from that day.
"Three years ago, we passed through the gates of Teikou Middle School. That day, with hope and anxiety in
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