Midorima stared at the picture on the next page of the album for a long moment, then slowly raised his eyes to meet Takao's.

"Takao?"

"Yeah, Shin-chan?"

"Did you take this picture under water?" he asked. "The quality is appalling."

Takao frowned. "It's not that ba –"

"Yes it is. Why is the quality of this one so horrible when the others were perfectly adequate?" demanded Midorima.

Takao muttered something under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"I said I didn't take the other pictures. I ordered them off a website," said Takao. "I told you, most of The Shadow's oldest works aren't around anymore. They got scrubbed off or painted over. Of those first four, "Alone In The Crowd" is the only one that's still around."

Well, that explained why the quality of the photographs had noticeably deteriorated in just one page. Though that did beg another question.

"How can you be that horrible a photographer?" demanded Midorima.

"I'm not that bad."

"I can't even tell what this picture is supposed to be of."

Takao huffed. "Then you should change your glasses prescription."

"My vision is perfectly fine as long as I'm wearing by glasses," said Midorima. "I can read the caption perfectly fine. Therefore, it's clear the problem lies with your photography skills."

"I did the best I could," said Takao, suddenly cheerful again. "I've got the hawkeye, not the shutterbug's eyes."

Midorima sighed. "You used your camera phone, didn't you?"

"Yes I did," admitted Takao. "Why?"

"The quality of picture you can get on your old model can only be mediocre at best. Even a skilled photographer can only do so much without a good camera."

"Maybe we can borrow one from the school," suggested Takao. "The library has some that you can check out, I think. They're probably not top notch, but they're better than the cameras on either of our phones. We could get online and buy copies of all the other pictures we need, but I think sensei would like it better if we took as many pictures as we could ourselves."

"Probably," Midorima agreed. "But there's no need to borrow a camera from the library. My father has a good one that I'm sure he'll let us borrow. I take it you know where all the graffiti we need to photograph is?"

"Yep!" Takao said, brightening again. "Most of the street art from his first happy phase is still around. The Shadow's basketball themed art was mostly left up because it was good enough that it looked like it had been professionally done. And it was a deterrent to other taggers."

"How so?" asked Midorima.

"There's an unwritten code for street artists," said Takao. "If someone achieves the level of anonymous fame that The Shadow does, it's bad form to paint over their work. Do that and other street artists will hunt down everything you've ever painted and mark it out, as well as all your future works. And switching your tagger's sign won't help you either. Your art style is like your handwriting. People can recognize it easily enough."

Takao seemed to know an awful lot about this. Midorima wondered if he engaged in graffiti himself, but decided not to ask. It would only encourage him.

"You sure seem to know a lot about this," Midorima said instead.

Takao grinned innocently. "Do I?"

Yes, Takao definitely was into tagging. Midorima knew it for a fact now.

He decided to change the subject.

"Well, at least you know enough to take us to all these places," he said. "I expect you to make a list of all the ones you think should be included in our survey, and give the list to me. Then I'll work out the most practical schedule for us to photograph them."

"Nope!"

"What?"

"I said 'Nope!'" repeated Takao.

"And why not?" asked Midorima, realizing he was going to regret asking.

"Because then you won't get the experience of seeing them in chronological order," said Takao. "How could I deny you that?"

"I don't care about seeing them in chronological order," said Midorima. "I care about completing our assignment."

"Don't worry about the assignment. We'll get it done."

"Takao –"

"Art is meant to be experienced," Takao said. "You don't watch the middle of a play first, or read the first line of a poem last. We're going to visit The Shadow's art in order, and that's final."

Midorima scowled.

"Now, come on."

"What? Where are we going?"

"To get your dad's camera. Then to go see this one in person." Takao tapped the overly blurry photograph to indicate what he meant.

"It's getting late, Takao. I don't think it's a good idea to go hunting down street art after dark. Not to mention the lighting won't be good," said Midorima.

"Oh, no need to worry about that," said Takao impishly. "We're going to an art museum."

After borrowing a camera from Midorima's father, Takao took them to a small modern art museum. Midorima had never been there, despite it being relatively close to his house. Admission was cheap to begin with, and they got a student discount which made it even better, so Midorima decided to return at a later date, when he had more time to look around, and no obnoxious friend making annoying commentary.

"This way, Shin-chan! Over here," said Takao, trying to lead him by the hand.

Midorima pulled his hand away and gave him an annoyed look. "Why is a piece of street art in an art museum? And how? Surely no one would knock down a wall just to preserve some graffiti."

"Not all street art is painted on walls, Shin-chan," said Takao, infuriatingly patient, as though he was talking to an idiot. He started walking, without trying to drag Midorima behind him this time, though Midorima had little choice but to follow anyway, since Takao presumably knew where he was going. "It can also be on sidewalks, or windows, posters or billboards. Or fences."

"Fences?" asked Midorima doubtfully.

"Not those screen fences that you're probably thinking of," said Takao. "I mean like the ones made of plywood that they use to fence off construction sites. That's what this one was. I don't think The Shadow knew that the construction site that fence was blocking off was going to be an art museum. This very art museum, in fact. But when the museum was finished, it had the construction company take down the fence very carefully, and saved The Shadow's artwork. Best business move they ever made . . . well, maybe deciding to sell Shadow Bird plushies in the gift shop was the best business move they ever made. Wait, no, they would have never thought to sell stuffed Shadow Birds if they hadn't saved The Shadow's street art on their fence, and brought it into their collection. So yes, that was the best business move they ever made. And it's their biggest draw, no pun intended. And here we are."

They had come to a large round room that seemed to house the museum's better pieces. Or at least the pieces that the museum considered better. This room was a little nicer than the other rooms Midorima and Takao had walked through to get here. None of the rooms had been shabby, but this one had higher ceilings and softer lighting. The art was spaced far apart on the walls at equal intervals. Directly across from the entrance, so that it was the first piece anyone entering the room saw, was the painting by The Shadow.

The Shadow and someone else, Midorima realized.

He took it in as he walked toward it. Like Takao said, it had been painted on plywood, so Midorima had been expecting that. What he had not been expecting was to see another tagger's sign on it, right beside The Shadow's. Yesterday, he wouldn't have even recognized it as a tagger's sign, but now he could tell what it was without even having to be told. It was an orange flame. A very happy orange flame, outlined in black and painted with a grinning little face. An orange arrow was sprayed next to it, with the words, "hi, i'm spaRk."

Right next to it was the blue Shadow bird, and beside him were the words, "i MADE A FRiEND."

Above them was their actual art. Three words painted in orange.

bASKETBALL

fRiENDS

fOREVER

The first letter of each word, it was clear to see, had been done by Spark. Aside from being painted in the same scrawling lowercase letters that Spark had used to introduce his signature, they seemed more raw, like the artist was new to spray paint, and wasn't quite confident in what he was doing.

The rest of the letters had clearly been done by The Shadow. They were in all caps, except for the I's which The Shadow always seemed to paint lowercase, and they were done in a bold, block-like style with very thick lines.

And beneath them, to the left of Spark, was a basketball. Probably painted by The Shadow, Midorima thought. It was perfectly round, and detailed with thin, neat lines.

And this piece spoke to Midorima, just like the other pieces of The Shadow's art that he had seen. Or maybe because he'd seen them. Would he have felt so much for The Shadow if he'd seen this painting without knowing the context of it?

Probably not, Midorima admitted. He wasn't exactly the kind of person who appreciated emotions and bonds of friendship. At least not when he couldn't empathize with them. But after seeing The Shadow's loneliness in his earlier artwork and empathizing with that, seeing that he had made a friend made Midorima feel . . . happy. Happy for him, the Shadow. And just . . . happy in general, he guessed.

He wouldn't admit it, but Takao had probably been right. He would probably appreciate all of The Shadow's artwork more if he saw it in order.

"Hurry and take a picture," said Takao urgently. "Hurry. Before someone comes."

"What?"

"There's a no photography rule," said Takao. "And it's unusual for this room to be unguarded. I thought I was going to have to distract whoever was here while you took the picture but you're in luck. So hurry up and take a picture."

Normally, Midorima was opposed to rule breaking, but this was for a good cause. And the good cause was his grade. He quickly set to getting his father's camera out of his bag. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Takao tense and look toward the door.

"Crap, someone's coming. Hurry!"

"I am hurrying!"

"Hurry faster!"

"Why didn't you tell me to begin with that there was a no photography policy? Then I could have taken the picture as soon as I saw the room was clear," griped Midorima.

"You could have. But you wouldn't have appreciated it as much. Hurry, Shin-chan!"

It was already too late, Midorima realized. He could hear footsteps in the hall, just outside the room's entrance. They would have to go with Takao's original plan of Takao distracting the attendant, while Midorima took a picture, and hope they weren't caught. Midorima didn't want to get banned from here. He wanted to return at a later date.

He hid the camera under his coat, right before the person in the hall entered.

Then he got a look at the person and realized that hiding his camera probably hadn't been necessary. This person wasn't a security guard or art museum attendant. He probably wasn't even associated with the museum at all. Because for one, he was a teenager, around the same age as Midorima and Takao. And for another, he was dressed like Midorima and Takao, still wearing a jacket like he'd just come in from outside. Not like someone who worked here part time, who would have taken their coat off before making rounds through the galleries.

The teenager had bright orange hair and was smiling broadly. Or at least he was until he caught sight of Midorima and Takao. Then he froze, and his smile was replaced by a look of surprise.

Midorima blinked, and had just started to wonder about the orange haired teen's reaction when beside him, Takao started spluttering in surprise.

"You – you're . . ."

Midorima looked at his friend, concerned. He'd heard Takao sound surprised before, but this was different. There was something in his tone now that was worried and strained. And this orange haired stranger was the cause of it.

He turned his gaze back to the other teen sharply, just in time to see him tear his gaze away from Midorima to look at Takao in confusion. Then Midorima realized that this guy didn't know Takao. He hadn't even seen Takao until Takao started spluttering. Which meant that his startled reaction . . . had been in response to seeing Midorima.

The surprise of eliciting that kind of reaction from a total stranger was just starting to settle in when Midorima received another shock. One that nearly gave him a heart attack.

Because someone else, who Midorima hadn't even realized was in the room spoke up, right in front of Midorima, as though he'd appeared there from out of thin air.

"Hello, Midorima-kun."

I wonder who that could be . . . lol

The art described in this chapter is up on yellowoctopus333's DeviantArt page. The link's in my profile, so make sure to check it out!