Predator [UNDER EDITING]

Chapter Eighteen

~Point of View: 1st~
~Character: (F. Name) (L. Name)~
~Location: Interhigh Gymnasium~

"He talks about me?" I ask Takao. Somewhat struggling to keep up with him. "I bet he says strictly negative things. We never did get along." I almost trip when he takes a quick turn.

He easily rights me, using the arm he has draped over my shoulders. "Nah, Shin-chan actually says a lot of good stuff about you," Takao says simply. Being more mindful of how he guides me. "He really admires you, Kitsune-chan."

I stare at the Shutoku player as if he's grown two heads. "He admires me?" I beginning snickering. "Midorima doesn't really 'admire' anyone from what I've seen. If anything, he criticizes something until it dies."

I begin giggling as another thought crosses my mind. "I bet, if given the opportunity," I say between giggles, "Midorima-kun would criticize something that has died." I shake my head, not sure why I'm finding this so funny. I stifle my laughter as best I can, but my shoulders shake from withheld snickers every now and then.

I then turn my gaze to watch the people around us. More people swarming the area now. None of them pay us much mind, however. Perhaps they think I'm apart of the Shutoku team? Like a manager or something? I shake my head dismissively. Not liking that thought. Nope, I'm not resigning myself to that thought.

"I wouldn't say that, Kitsune-chan," Takao says drawing my attention. "Shin-chan often praises your skill, and wishes nothing but the best of luck to you." He pulls me a little closer by my shoulders. Out of the way of a frantic brown haired manager.

"Luck?" The word tastes foreign and vile to me. "Luck is the last thing I have in my life." I look away from his observant eyes. Deciding to focus of the gymnasium doors instead. Wandering if Seirin has already started their game.

"I'd say you have massive luck, Kitsune-chan," Takao suddenly says seriously. He pulls me over to the side of the room, and grips onto my shoulders. His eyes locking with mine critically. "According to the article about the attack, you're lucky to have gotten out of it with the injuries you did. The doctors speculated that if your savior hadn't came in when he had, then you wouldn't have come out of that alive.

"On top of that, your recovery thus far has been extremely fast compared to most other patients. And your injuries are healing properly," he says. "Many people who heal as quick as you, don't heal properly. I'd say that's luck." His grip grows a bit tighter, and I surprisingly don't feel any pain.

Catching my expression he smirks a bit. "My point," he says with a slight dip of his head. "Some will say you've miraculously beaten the odds, Kitsune-chan. Others will say you're just strong. But I believe you just have a lot of good luck." He starts walking again, gently guiding me by my shoulders.

"I still don't quite believe that, but sure. Let's go with it," I say a bit doubtful. Vaguely wondering if Takao is just as, or perhaps more, obsessed with the zodiacs and luck crap as Midorima.

"On a different topic," I say as I break my thoughts off again. "What's with the nickname?" I glance at him as we step into the gym. The first game is already in motion, five minutes into the first quarter.

But people are still hurrying up and down the stands. To their seats, friends, teams . . .

So Seirin is already playing, I note. A bit disappointed, but I shake it off. I was busy talking, so it's understandable that I didn't hear it start. I mentally freeze. Am I really justifying why I wasn't here when it started?

Takao must catch my mood shift, for he playfully nudges me with his shoulder. "I call you Kitsune-chan because you remind me of a fox. Sly, cunning, intelligent, and breathtakingly beautiful," he says simply.